I have been chasing football across the world for more than three decades.
I have stood in stadiums where the air trembles with anticipation, where strangers become friends for 90 minutes, and where a single goal makes nationality, race and language disappear. That is the magic of football. That is why the FIFA World Cup became the world's greatest sporting event.
It was never just about the game. It was about the gathering.
I experienced that spirit in France. I watched fans from different nations celebrate together in the streets of Marseille. French, Portuguese, Welsh, Ugandan—different flags, one heartbeat. The organization was smooth, the welcome genuine, and after the final whistle, the city belonged to everyone.
I experienced it in Germany. Precision, efficiency and hospitality combined to create an atmosphere where football came first. In crowded fan zones and busy beer halls, nobody asked where you came from. They asked which team you supported.
I experienced it in Russia in 2018. Despite political tensions dominating international headlines, ordinary football fans were welcomed. The metro ran through the night. Volunteers guided visitors with smiles. Stadiums were full, vibrant and alive. Fans from every continent shared stories, meals and memories.
South Africa in 2010. Brazil in 2014. Qatar in 2022.
Different cultures. Different languages. Different continents.
Yet they all understood one principle: if your heart beats for football, the gates should be open.
That is why the 2026 World Cup leaves me deeply troubled.
Canada rejected my visa application.
The reasons given were difficult to understand. I was told I had too much money in my account. I was told I had insufficient family ties in Canada. I was effectively told that wanting to visit for a few days to watch football was not enough.
Yet I have travelled internationally before. I have visited Canada in the past and complied with every immigration requirement. I entered legally. I left legally. I never overstayed.
Today, approaching 60 years of age, with a home, a farm, a career and a life established in Uganda, the suggestion that I pose a migration risk feels detached from reality.
What hurts most is that my experience is not unique.
Across Africa, countless genuine football supporters face enormous barriers to attending global sporting events. Many save for years to afford tickets, flights and accommodation. Many dream of witnessing the world's greatest players before age and circumstance make such journeys impossible.
For them, the obstacle is often not cost. It is access.
Of course, every nation has the sovereign right to secure its borders. Public health concerns, immigration controls and security assessments are legitimate responsibilities of governments.
But there must also be a way to distinguish between genuine supporters and those who present actual risks.
If additional screening is necessary, then create additional screening. If testing is required, then implement testing. If verification is needed, then strengthen verification.
Do not close the door on entire groups of people because of assumptions, fears or stereotypes.
Football has always been one of the few remaining institutions capable of bringing humanity together. In a stadium, a Ugandan farmer, a Brazilian teenager, a Japanese student and a Canadian truck driver can celebrate the same goal with the same joy.
The World Cup should represent that ideal.
Instead, many fans increasingly fear that it is becoming an event accessible only to those born in the right countries or holding the right passports.
That is not the vision football promised the world.
FIFA speaks constantly about inclusion, diversity and global unity. Those values must extend beyond marketing campaigns and opening ceremonies. They must be reflected in the experience of supporters who make enormous sacrifices to attend the tournament.
Because football without its global audience loses something essential.
Africa contributes some of the world's greatest players. It contributes passion, culture, colour, music and energy. African supporters help make football what it is.
A World Cup without broad access for African fans may still fill stadiums.
But it risks losing part of its soul.
And without that soul, football becomes just another event.
The stadium remains.
The lights remain.
The television cameras remain.
But the spirit that makes the World Cup truly global begins to fade.