Why Gymnastics Matters, Olalere Shares Her Journey

Omowunmi Olalere, Vice President of the Gymnastics Federation of Nigeria, shares her journey into gymnastics, her fight for fair elections, her push for women in sports leadership, and more in this interview with PETER AKINBO.

What made you go into gymnastics?

I didn’t join gymnastics to gain a title. I joined because I wanted to give back. As a business owner, I believe success comes with a duty to the community. I have built businesses, created jobs, and faced tough times. I wanted to make a lasting impact. I asked myself what I could give back that would last beyond my time, and I decided to support a sports federation. This was not just to add my name to a project but to truly invest in people.

Did anything else draw you to gymnastics?

I chose gymnastics because it is a children’s sport. My kids loved it, and I saw something special in it: discipline, courage, flexibility, confidence, and the chance to find amazing talent in ordinary Nigerian kids. I thought if I could help even a few kids discover their potential, my effort would be worth it.

How did your involvement in the federation begin?

In 2021, I became Chairperson of the Southwest Gymnastics Association and ran for president of the Gymnastics Federation of Nigeria. I lost, and I accepted it. I was new and didn’t fully grasp how the federation worked. I saw losing as a lesson, not a failure. I began studying the sport, understanding its structure, meeting important people, supporting athletes, and learning how to grow gymnastics in Nigeria. I sponsored events, supported programs, and invested my time and resources.

Did your contribution get recognised after that election?

Not always. I quickly learned that when you challenge those in power, your efforts might go unnoticed. Because I ran against the sitting president, some of my contributions to gymnastics were ignored. I was not seeking praise. I was doing it for the kids, so I continued.

A Fresh Attempt in 2025

What made you try again in 2025?

By 2025, things had changed. The sitting president had been in office for eight years, and I thought it was time for members to choose a new path. So, I prepared, campaigned, traveled, and spoke with stakeholders. I was not expecting anyone to hand me the presidency. I wanted to earn it through an election. At one point, I had the support of three out of 14 constituencies. I knew I needed five more to have a real chance to win.

What went wrong?

Instead of letting the process go forward, the rules were changed. The Constitution was amended in ways some stakeholders questioned, allowing a third term after eight years. I began to ask questions. Where was the proper approval, the documents, the transparent process? Questions were raised, but I did not feel satisfied with the answers. Then the election happened, which many questioned. Some constituencies were said to be excluded, and the election was challenged. I refused to accept it. There were petitions, meetings, arguments, and interventions. Eventually, the election was annulled, and another one was planned. I thought we would do it right this time, but I was wrong. When the new election was set for October 25, 2025, I got my team ready. People travelled from various parts of Nigeria, hotels were booked, and resources were spent. Some older stakeholders, over 70 years old, came because they believed the process would finally work. But we faced another problem. The annulled election process was being reconsidered, leading to new uncertainty. The gymnastics community was left confused. At one point, gymnastics was even left out of the inauguration process, and everyone was left waiting. I found myself wondering how we got to this point.

Facing Gender Challenges

Do you believe you were treated differently because you are a woman?

I started to feel this uncomfortable truth along the way. I cannot speak for everyone, but I can share my experience. I faced resistance and pressure, making me question whether a woman who dared to challenge the system was unwelcome. There were moments when I felt they expected me to tire out. They might have thought travel would wear me down, meetings would frustrate me, and pressure would make me give up. I refused to be intimidated or treated as unimportant, and I would not accept that being a woman meant I should be grateful for just a seat at the table.

What exactly were you asking for?

I only wanted the right to compete. I was not asking for the presidency to be given to me. I wanted a fair election. If I lost a credible election, I would accept it, just as I had lost before. What I could not accept was being denied the chance to see if I could win.

Why did you accept the position of First Vice President?

After everything, I was persuaded to accept it for the sake of peace. I was hesitant because I knew my worth, my relationships, and my work in gymnastics. I kept asking myself why they were afraid of an election if I was truly not capable. Why not let the stakeholders decide? Why so much resistance to a fair contest? But I eventually chose peace. I accepted the compromise because I wanted gymnastics to move forward and the fighting to stop. I wanted athletes to be prioritized, and I wanted children to compete. I thought maybe I could set aside my disappointment and work within the system.

The Third Term Shock

How did you feel when the incumbent got a third term?

It was shocking. Instead of fixing the ongoing issues with what I believed should be a fair election, the incumbent got a third term after eight years. Suddenly, my compromise seemed to mean I had given up my right to question the process. My willingness to make peace felt like acceptance, my sacrifice seemed like weakness, and my good faith was treated as consent. I began to wonder if my choice to compromise had unintentionally ended the very questions I had raised for a year. That was a painful moment in this journey because I could have kept fighting. Instead, I trusted in peace. I realized this story is not just about me. It is about every woman who has faced situations where decisions were made before she arrived. It is for every woman told to know her place. I do not want a gymnastics federation where women are only useful in supporting someone else's agenda. I want a federation where a woman can campaign, build support, win, lose, and sit at the table because she earned it.

Why are you still standing after all you have been through?

I have spent money and time, travelled, lost sleep, missed business chances, faced pressure, been disappointed, and underestimated. But I am still standing not because I want a chair, but because I believe the chair should belong to whoever the stakeholders choose. If tomorrow that person is someone else, so be it. Let the people choose, let athletes breathe, let women compete, let rules be respected, and let eight years be enough to ask if another generation deserves a chance. Let no one confuse my demand for fairness with bitterness. I am not bitter. I am awake.

What lessons has the experience taught you, especially for the children?

Sometimes I return to why I entered gymnastics. My kids loved the sport, and I wanted to give back, to help kids find their talent and build something lasting. I never thought a children’s sport would teach me so much about power, gender, resilience, politics, and the cost of standing up. But maybe that is the biggest lesson. The children are watching whether the adults will protect the sport they love, whether fairness is real, whether women can lead, and whether courage has consequences or is punished. For their sake, I cannot pretend everything is okay.

Where does your journey go from here?

I entered gymnastics to give. I stayed because I found a sport worth fighting for. I lost an election and learned. I prepared for another and built. I faced resistance and stood firm. I was pressured and remained. I was offered a compromise and chose peace. And when that compromise did not bring the fairness I believed in, I found my voice again. I do not know where this journey will end, but I do know one thing. I will never let anyone make me feel wrong for believing a Nigerian woman has the right to compete, lead, and be heard. This is no longer just my story. It is about women, power, sport, and the courage to stand up.

Do you have a message for young girls in the sport?

Maybe one day, one of the little girls on a gymnastics mat in Nigeria will read this and understand she does not have to ask for permission to dream beyond the limits others set for her. She can compete. She can lead. She can win. And if she loses, she can try again. But first, let her have the election.