Yesterday reminded me why football holds such a special place in my heart. A few years back, my former colleague Marto was the guy who never cared much about football. His weekends were reserved for golf and nothing else. But yesterday, he called asking for tickets to the Kenya vs Madagascar game. I had to laugh and even asked him if he had married a football “girlie.”

That call said a lot. Such is the excitement that football is stirring in Kenya right now. Even those who once kept their distance are now joining in. They are being pulled into a wave of patriotism and togetherness that the Harambee Stars have sparked across the country. And honestly, can we keep pretending that Kenyans don’t love football or sports in general? The truth is, we do. What we’ve lacked is the investment and belief to turn that passion into a thriving sports economy. Maybe now is the time to stop ignoring it.

For Marto, perhaps one day he’ll trade a Saturday golf walkabout for a road trip to watch Shabana play. Stranger things have happened, and yesterday proved that football can win hearts in the most unexpected places.

As for the game itself, it was a beautiful day for Kenyan football. For the first time in my lifetime, I watched Kenya play a knockout phase in a major tournament. Yes, we lost to Madagascar in the quarterfinal after extra time and penalties, but I can’t fault the boys. They gave everything. In defeat, they showed the same pride and fight. This spirit carried them through the so-called “group of death.” To qualify top of the group and to push this far is a dream realized for Kenyan football.

Defeats sting, and this one will take a moment to heal, but that’s the nature of football. We pick ourselves up, we keep dreaming, and we move again. For me, yesterday was not just about the result. It was about witnessing history. I captured it through my lens. It was about being part of a story bigger than myself.

I don’t know if Marto is ready for this. Such chilly nights can shatter the hope and dreams of a nation with just a nick of the ball.

Marto might have missed watching this game live. He ended up watching from the comfort of his ‘local’. I just hope this loss did not dampen my hopes. One day, I want to see him on the stands cheering on his team.