CHAN, you hear the crowd? How Kenya, Uganda are out-cheering Tanzania at its own party

TANZANIA: Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania are currently co-hosting the Total Energies CHAN tournament across their stadiums in the three proud East African nations. And so far, believe me, all is good.

In fact, so good that I am not about to morph into one of those Mchambuzi types – you know, the puffed-up armchair critics.

Critics with conspiracy theories, stat sheets and the unshakeable belief that they could run African football better than anyone at CAF.

No, I’ll leave that noble duty to the online experts who have turned WhatsApp groups into their own private World Cups.

My job here is simple: to sit back, enjoy the football and applaud the fact that, so far, the three neighbours have put on a show worthy of praise.

CAF’s President, Patrice Motsepe, is smiling from ear to ear – and not just the polite, diplomatic smile for the cameras. This is the proper, teethshowing grin that says he might actually be sleeping better at night.

And who can blame him? He’s seen first-hand the effort, coordination and sporting spirit Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania have thrown into this CHAN.

Why is he so happy? Because this CHAN is not just any CHAN – it’s the warm-up act, the dress rehearsal, the soundcheck before the real concert in 2027: the Africa Cup of Nations.

Yes, the AFCON. The CAN. The 36th edition of the biennial African football party, set for June and July 2027 – and history alert – the first time it will ever be hosted by three different countries.

It’s also the first time in five decades the CECAFA region has had a turn since Ethiopia staged it back in 1976.

Motsepe and his crew deserve credit.

Not only for trusting us with AFCON 2027, but for reminding the rest of Africa that East Africa has stadiums which can hold their own against most on the continent.

South Africa excluded, of course, because we’ve all seen what they built for 2010.

Therefore, a week into CHAN 2024, I decided to do my own private “rundown” of how things were going.

Opening ceremony? Tick. Hosts’ first and second games? Tick. No dodgy refereeing, no VAR decisions that make you want to throw the remote into the Indian Ocean? Tick.

Smooth team escorts to and from the stadium? Tick.

Security on and off the pitch? Double tick. At that point, I thought to myself: there must be something I’m missing.

And then it hit me. In the face. Hard. Spectator attendance.

Let’s talk about that, shall we?

All three opening matches were played to packed stadiums.

In Uganda and Kenya, the momentum carried on. Even when their national teams weren’t playing, people still turned up. And I mean properly turned up.

The kind of attendance that makes you think there’s free pilau, matooke or githeri being served at half-time.

Huge stadiums, full to the brim. And it’s not like our neighbours lack TV services. They’ve got them. Fancy satellite packages and all.

And yet, they still trek from Wandegeya in Kampala or from Kibera in Nairobi to watch live, in the flesh.

Tanzania? Different story.

After our glittering opening carnival – complete with a Singeli concert loud enough to rattle windows in Bagamoyo – it’s as if the entire country decided to ghost Benjamin Mkapa Stadium.

The day Taifa Stars played Mauritania, for instance, I swear you could count the spectators without removing your shoes.

Someone told me the official count was eleven. Eleven! In a stadium that holds 60,000.

The substitutes probably outnumbered the fans.

So, I asked around. People grinned politely at first. Then came the answers.

First culprit: traffic. With so many Dar roads dug up for Mwendokasi construction, moving across the city is a form of slow torture.

It’s like a competitive sport in itself – one that should be added to the Olympics.

The same journey that normally takes 20 minutes now requires snacks, spare clothes and a heartfelt goodbye to your family – just in case you don’t make it back.

Second problem: parking. Or rather, the complete absence of it.

Go to the Benjamin Mkapa stadium and you’ll spend more time hunting for a space than the match actually lasts.

Some give up halfway and drive home, arriving just in time for the TV commentary to say, “And that’s full-time.”

Third issue: refreshments. This one really gets people worked up.

At Kwa Mkapa, you attend at your own peril if you expect to nibble on anything.

Two games in a single day without a soda or a kachori? That’s not football – that’s fasting.

And Tanzanians watching sport without “bites” is just unnatural.

And then there’s ticket prices.

The cheapest CHAN ticket has been going for a “buku” – one thousand shillings. Many fans argue that’s still too high.

They say drop it to “bati” – two hundred shillings – if you want to fill the stands.

Personally, I suspect if you told some people that the ticket was free, but they’d have to walk from Ubungo to the stadium, they’d still rather stay home with Azam Sports on.

Still, these are wake-up calls for AFCON 2027.

We can’t just assume people will turn up because it’s the biggest tournament in Africa.

We’ll need a plan. Maybe even an East African attendance strategy.

Uganda can share whatever magic makes people in Wandegeya, Katanga, Kawaala and Bwaise walk for hours to Namboole.

Kenya can tell us how they get crowds from Kibera and Mathare to Kasarani without losing half of them to Nairobi traffic.

And we, well… we can at least make sure there’s parking, there’s food and tickets don’t require a micro-loan.

Because here’s the reality: the football is good. The organisation is good. CAF is impressed. And CHAN has shown that our neighbours know how to fill stadiums.

The only weak link in this co-hosting chain is… us. Tanzania. Bongo… if you like.

Let’s be honest – there’s a cultural gap too.

In Uganda and Kenya, live stadium attendance is a social ritual. You dress up, you meet friends, you make an afternoon of it.

In Tanzania, unless it’s a Simba vs Yanga derby, stadium attendance is more of a casual fling than a committed relationship.

People love football here, but the TV is king – and the sofa is the throne.

Kenya and Uganda pulling in crowds for CHAN, even with free TV coverage, is not magic – it’s strategy, culture and a sprinkle of “kitu kidogo” charm.

In Nairobi’s Kasarani, fans turn up not just for the match but because it’s packaged as an event: music before kickoff, MCs hyping the crowd, influencers posting from VIP boxes, transport deals.

And sometimes literal matatu-loads of fans ferried in with free snacks and drinks.

In Kampala, FUFA treats football as a social happening. They plaster posters across the city, run radio talk-shows all week and sell tickets at boda-boda stages, not just online.

Tanzania’s approach? “Here’s the game. You know the stadium. If you want, come. If you don’t, your loss.” That’s not marketing – that’s passive-aggressive scheduling.

Shutting down Azam TV for a few hours won’t create passion in the stands. Fans don’t go to the stadium because TV is off; they go because the experience beats the sofa.

We could learn from our neighbours without shame.

Send TFF spies to Kasarani or Namboole to see how you get 50,000 people in seats even without the home team.

It’s not about bribery – it’s about FOMO. Fear-Of-Missing OUT.

When people feel they’ll miss out by staying home, they’ll go – even if the game ends 0-0.

Right now, we might be barking under the wrong tree. Instead of blaming Azam TV, plant a new one called Make Going to the Stadium Fun Again.

Maybe the Mwendokasi will be done by 2027. Maybe parking will be sorted. Maybe vendors will sell food again.

And maybe – just maybe – that “buku” ticket will drop to “bati” for certain matches. Or maybe we’ll find our own way to fill the stands – Tanzanian style.

Until then, hats off to Motsepe and his team for bringing CAN 2027 to East Africa.

ALSO READ: Tri-nation CHAN sees success in openers

CHAN has been a brilliant rehearsal, proving we can get the logistics, security and organisation right.

Now we just have to convince our own people that a live match is worth leaving the sofa for.

And who knows? Maybe by AFCON, we’ll be the ones Motsepe is grinning about – full stadium, roaring crowd, Singeli blasting in the background and not an empty seat in sight.

If Uganda can do it. If Kenya can do it. Then, surely, Tanzania can too