Before the boxers even leave their homes, Dambe’s first strikes are thrown.
Traditional medicine is inserted before it burns over in a fight, all of which are guaranteed to protect them in the ring or deliver a knock-out punch. They also don charms and amulets, dye their fists, and even score their arm with a razor.
They are unstoppable when combined with prayers from “mallams” or spiritual guides, not just in Nigeria but increasingly all over the world.
In the most recent evolution of a sport that has its roots in Hausa speakers, the Dambe World Series fetched its debut on Saturday in Abuja, the capital.
The West African Fighting Championship, the organization that organizes the tournament, founder Maxwell Kalu, said, “We want to professionalize it rather than try to westernize it, or try to make it something else.”
A key objective is also “opening the door in terms of inviting people to compete in Nigeria.”
The national stadium’s ground is the setting for the tournament, which was reportedly run by Hausa butchers in the 10th century.
Abdullahi “Coronavirus” Ali, a 20-year-old man who has been fighting since he was a child, declared, “This one is big, I’m very happy.” “Every day, the audience grows,” he says.
Two amateur fighters worked the ring behind Coronavirus during a pre-tournament exhibition match in Dei Dei, a working-class Abuja exurb, as he spoke to AFP.
Cigarettes swarmed above the crowd while pecking at the rickety wooden stands.
In Dambe, the fighters use their striking arm, which is their striking arm, with one fist tightly bound in rope instead of a glove. Before the fighting arm swings forward like a spring-loaded spring, the other hand reaches out and feels the gap between the opposing forces.
One fighter lost his balance in the middle of the blows, becoming a “kill.” The contest was over.
domestic and international expansion
As Abuja’s elite paved the way for modern skyscrapers and highways, Dambe may have once seemed destined to be confined to the margins in places like Dei Dei.
Along with private organizations like the WAFC, the government has started to care more about preserving and promoting the sport.
With the advent of Instagram and YouTube, Dambe is now a popular destination for fans from all over the world. One promoter reported to the BBC in 2017 that 60% of his viewers were from outside of Nigeria.
At home, the sport has also grown.
A Dambe game in the southern city of Lagos in 2018 attracted both curious about their northern counterparts’ pastimes and enthralled spectators.
For the African Knockout Championship, a mixed martial arts competition in the style of Western culture, athletes from all over the world converged on the megacity earlier this month.
However, Kalu sees foreigners traveling to see a distinct Nigerian style of conflict.
Professionalization also opens up the possibility for stable salaries and safety standards for the otherwise unregulated combat sport.
Usman Abubakar, 20, said, “If I get married, I won’t let my children do it.” His fist was dovetailed in a dark henna color and had charmed scars on his arm, which is reminiscent of a chest injury that required him to sit out for two years.
Foreigners are welcome.
The fighters from Saturday will compete for Nigeria in what is intended to be an international multi-stage series.
British national Luke Leyland traveled from Liverpool last year to compete in a Dambe match, reportedly the first white fighter to do so. The WAFC supported him.
Despite writing glowingly about the experience, one local media report called him “destroyed.”
The idea of sharing the spoils of victory is still a hot topic among Nigerian fighters.
“Coronavirus,” Abubakar, and Anas Hamisu, a third competitor, were all excited about the prospect of more people embracing their sport when asked what would happen if non-Nigerians started competing.
