On Friday evening, at a youth club not far from some of north-west London’s most deprived housing estates, hoots and yelps of excitement filled the air as children pelted the NFL star Efe Obada with American footballs.
The Washington Commanders defensive lineman, who grew up in foster care in south London after being trafficked to Britain, relied on youth organisations like this one as his “safe place”.
As he ducked and dived his 6ft 6in frame through the hail of balls at the Roundwood Youth Centre in Harlesden, his understanding of what young people need was instinctive: fun and support.
“Being in foster care, the house and some of the foster carers I lived with, wasn’t my safe place,” the 32-year-old told the Guardian. “It was just somewhere I slept. Going to school or just being outside was my safe place. So youth centres gave me that sense of community, allowed me to find my voice, allowed me to make friends. To this day, I am still very close friends with one of my key youth workers.”
The Nigeria-born Obada – who has achieved a 10-year career in the notoriously tough NFL after being trafficked to Britain from the Netherlands and ending up homeless – was using his time back in London during his off-season to press for children like him to have greater opportunities. He is an ambassador for London Youth, a membership charity for community organisations.
Obada’s search for a safe place chimed with that of one of the teenage boys playing ball with him – not far from estates where gang warfare has claimed several lives over the years.
“I come twice a week,” said the boy, who did not give his name. “My dream is playing football. Sometimes, it’s hard at home and when I come here you’re free from whatever is going on. When I play, I clear out my head.”
Obada’s youth club years came before austerity. Since then, hundreds of council youth clubs have closed, leaving what youth groups have estimated is a black hole of £800m to £1bn a year, and children “crying out” for places to go.
“There needs to be more funding for places like this because, if you don’t [fund this], the kids are just going to be out on the road, getting into trouble,” Obada said. “When I was growing up, there were resources that would help me with CVs and to apply for jobs that are just not available any more.
“There were youth clubs that were shut down. There were things to bridge that gap and [help] someone like me who went through foster care … make that transition from teenager to adulthood more easily. And those things just aren’t accessible any more.”
The Roundwood Youth Centre is close to two of the London Borough of Brent’s largest estates, Church End and Stonebridge. Around here, warring gangs have left a trail of fear over the years. In 2015, in the middle of the wave of austerity that caused deep erosion to Britain’s public services, the council cut £900,000 from the youth service budget, resulting in the closure of most of its youth centres.
Nine years on and a recent report by the council’s youth justice service said “serious youth violence, often with links to gangs, drugs and county lines, is a persistent problem”.
Pauline Daniyan, chief executive of London Youth, is among youth leaders calling on the next government to create a single point of responsibility for youth as it is now scattered across Whitehall from the Home Office to the department of culture.
“Have a single minister that is responsible for children and young people … and commit to sustainable funding for the sector,” she said.
In common with many youth organisations since the withdrawal of public funds, the Roundwood operates with the support of charities and donors. The Sport at the Heart charity runs at least four hours of activities after schooldays, attracting more than 100 children a session. They provide hot meals and tackle holiday hunger but also offer friendship, security, mentoring and fun.
Obada said that without the youth clubs he attended – including Lansdowne Youth Centre in Stockwell and Kids Company in Peckham – it would have been harder to assimilate to the UK after arriving at the age of 10. He found himself around gang culture and says he would have ended up in trouble without the support.
“I have younger brothers and kids that I mentor that come to me all the time and they want to progress in life,” he said. “They want to be a part of something. They want their lives to matter and they just don’t have the resources or help to do that.”
For almost an hour, Obada played games with children at the Roundwood in the evening sun, stripping down to his vest for a basketball dunk contest.
In September, he will be back in Washington, in full body armour, braced to clash violently with some of the world’s best paid sportsmen.
“People usually, when they make money, they just go off and never come back to their community or try to influence the next generation,” Obada said. “This is something I feel strongly about.”
