The rain is falling. The track is cracked. And Demilade Ajayi is still running.
It is a scene that has become routine at the University of Lagos Athletic Track — popularly known as the Kazanji Track — where some of Nigeria’s most promising young sprinters lace up their spikes not on a state-of-the-art surface, but on a deteriorating tartan that splits, bubbles and shifts beneath their feet with every stride.
Demilade, a 400-level Electrical Engineering student and competitive sprinter, does not have the luxury of waiting for better conditions. With the Commonwealth Games Trials fast approaching — pencilled in for around June 19–24 — he is chasing a personal best of 10.7 or 10.6 seconds in the 100 metres, down from his current 10.8.
“It’s all about discipline,” he says, catching his breath after a training session conducted in near-darkness and drizzle. “Right now, a lot of us are still training despite the facilities, despite the conditions. It’s raining right now, it’s dark, and the track — it’s really not in the best condition. But we still keep pushing. We still keep training because we know what we want to achieve.”
A Track Rebuilt for FASU 2024 is Failing
The Kazanji Track was resurfaced ahead of the Federation of African University Sports (FASU) Games — an investment that should have given UNILAG athletes a world-class facility. Instead, within less than a year, the surface began to crack, bubble and peel.
“The material they used was not high quality,” Demilade explains. “When the rain started falling, it started going under the track, and the heat would make the rubber melt and start breaking.”
The problem is also structural. The track sits alongside the football pitch, and footballers routinely cross over the tartan surface while moving to and from the field — wearing boots that slowly chip away at the rubber layer where the most damage is visible today.
“Those areas — that’s where most of the cracks are,” says Joshua Osunlade, another student-athlete who trains on the facility. He describes having to navigate the broken sections mid-stride, leaping over concrete edges at the back of the track just to complete a training circuit.
“It’s kind of risky,” he admits, “but you just have to do it to get the training in.”
Patching efforts have been made, but they have proven superficial at best. “They tried to patch it a number of times,” Demilade notes. “But even those patches keep coming up.”
The Cost of Leaving Campus
For many student-athletes, the instinct to simply train elsewhere hits a hard wall of financial reality.
Yabatech’s track — a popular alternative — requires daily transportation costs that most students cannot sustain without institutional support. The National Stadium in Surulere, while more professionally equipped, costs around ₦1,000 per visit each way. For a student living on campus in Akoka with no sponsorship, that is an impossible daily expense.
“It’s not like they’re actually sponsoring your training as a student,” Joshua says plainly. “So it’s not safe. And if there’s no accommodation there, you have to stay on campus.”
Adebayo Okikiola, another UNILAG athlete known by the moniker FAME, frames it simply: “Even with the bad track and bad facility, we’re still able to make something out of it. That’s what makes us great as athletes.”
He means it as a point of pride. But it is also an indictment.
What Is at Stake
The calendar ahead is not light. UNILAG student-athletes are preparing simultaneously for the Commonwealth Games Trials, FASU, NUGA (Nigerian University Games), and WAIG (West African Inter-University Games) — a convergence of competitions that demands peak physical preparation and optimum training conditions.
“By June we should be starting Commonwealth Trials at Yabatech,” Adebayo says, “And we’re still going to go there to perform. Just like I will be performing in WAUG, NUGA and FASU. So even with the bad track, we’re still able to make something out of it.”
The Fix Is Not Complicated
Those closest to the problem are not asking for the impossible. Their prescriptions are grounded and practical.
First, the track needs proper barricading. Without secured perimeter barriers, the surface remains open to foot traffic from footballers, spectators and casual walkers — all of whom contribute to the ongoing damage. “If there are no barricades,” Adebayo explains, “we won’t have people stepping on the track. Anyone can just come in.”
Second, a maintenance crew needs to be assigned specifically to the track — to clean it, monitor it and address wear before it becomes damage.
Third — and most critically — when resurfacing eventually happens, quality materials and properly vetted contractors must be used. The current crisis is, at its root, a procurement failure. A cheap job produced a cheap result.
“I think what they need to do is actually come and see the way we put in work,” Demilade says, his frustration measured but unmistakable. “Not just on the track, but on the court, the football course, the basketball court. Everywhere. They need to get hands-on experience from the athletes. Talk to them, associate with them. So that they know what we’re experiencing.”
A Call to Action
The University of Lagos has produced Olympic athletes, continental champions and national record holders. Its student-athletes do not simply aspire — they deliver, year after year, on the biggest stages Nigerian university sports has to offer.
They deserve, at minimum, a track that does not put them at risk of injury before they even reach the start line.
The UNILAG management, the Student Union, the Department of Sports and the relevant facilities committee cannot continue to allow a signature sporting infrastructure to crumble through neglect. With FASU, NUGA and the Commonwealth Trials on the immediate horizon, the window for remedial action is narrowing fast.
These athletes are holding up their end of the bargain — training in the rain, in the dark, on broken rubber — representing the university with pride in every competition they enter.
It is time the university holds up its end too.