
How Tunde Onakoya Turned a Chess Marathon in Times Square Into a Movement for African Education
In the early hours of April 2024, a Nigerian chess champion sat down at a board in the middle of Times Square, New York City, and refused to get up for 60 hours. What followed was not just a record-breaking endurance feat — it was a calculated act of advocacy that placed Africa’s education crisis on one of the world’s most visible stages.
The Man Behind the Move: Who Is Tunde Onakoya?
Tunde Onakoya is not simply a chess player. Born and raised in Ikorodu, a densely populated suburb on the outskirts of Lagos, Nigeria, Onakoya grew up in circumstances that gave him a firsthand understanding of educational inequality. He learned chess as a child and eventually channeled that passion into founding Chess in Slums Africa, a nonprofit organization that uses chess as a tool to reach children in some of Nigeria’s most underserved communities — including the streets of Ikorodu, Makoko, and Majidun. The initiative has since expanded its footprint across the African continent, introducing the game to thousands of children who had never previously encountered structured learning opportunities.
Onakoya’s approach is deliberate: chess, he argues, teaches critical thinking, patience, and problem-solving — skills that transcend the board and translate directly into academic and life success. His work had already earned him international recognition before April 2024, but his Times Square attempt would bring his mission to an entirely new global audience.
The Record Attempt: What Actually Happened on That Board
The previous Guinness World Record for the longest chess marathon stood at 56 hours and 9 minutes. Onakoya set his sights on surpassing it by playing a continuous match against American chess champion Shawn Martinez in Times Square — one of the busiest and most photographed intersections on Earth. The location was intentional. Visibility was the point.
The rules governing a Guinness World Record chess marathon are strict. Players are permitted only short, timed breaks each hour — typically no more than a few minutes — and must remain engaged with the game throughout. Sleep deprivation, physical fatigue, and the psychological pressure of sustained concentration compound with every passing hour. By the time Onakoya crossed the 56-hour threshold, he had already outlasted the existing record. He continued. When the clock finally stopped at 60 hours, he had added nearly four hours to the record books, completing the longest verified chess marathon in history — pending official Guinness confirmation, which the chess and advocacy communities were closely awaiting.
Celebrity Support, Public Momentum, and the $1 Million Goal
The attempt did not go unnoticed. Crowds gathered in Times Square across multiple days, and the event drew significant attention on social media platforms. Nigerian Afrobeats superstar Davido — one of the continent’s most globally recognized artists — made a personal appearance to show support, amplifying the campaign’s reach to millions of followers worldwide. The presence of high-profile figures helped transform what could have been a niche chess story into a mainstream human interest event.
The fundraising target was ambitious: $1 million USD, earmarked for expanding access to education for children across Africa. Within the first 24 hours of the marathon alone, the campaign had raised approximately $22,000 — a promising early figure that reflected genuine public investment in the cause. Donations came from individuals across multiple continents, drawn in by the combination of athletic endurance, cultural pride, and a clearly articulated humanitarian mission.
Why This Matters: Africa’s Education Deficit in Context
The stakes behind Onakoya’s record attempt are grounded in a sobering reality. Nigeria alone has one of the largest out-of-school child populations in the world, with UNESCO estimates consistently placing the figure above 10 million children. Across sub-Saharan Africa, barriers including poverty, gender inequality, conflict, and inadequate infrastructure keep tens of millions of school-age children from accessing even basic education. These are not abstract statistics — they represent lost potential on a generational scale.
Onakoya’s choice to stage his record attempt in New York City, rather than Lagos or Abuja, was a strategic one. International fundraising requires international visibility. By planting his cause in Times Square — where media infrastructure, tourist foot traffic, and social media amplification converge — he ensured that Africa’s education crisis was framed not as a distant problem, but as an urgent, solvable one that the global community had a role in addressing.
What Comes Next: Beyond the Record
As of the time of writing, the chess community and Onakoya’s supporters were awaiting formal ratification from Guinness World Records, a process that involves reviewing documentation, adjudicator reports, and verified timekeeping logs. Regardless of the official timeline for confirmation, the cultural and humanitarian impact of the attempt had already materialized. Onakoya’s story — a child from Ikorodu who learned chess in a slum and then broke a world record in Manhattan to fund education for others like him — carries a narrative weight that no press release could manufacture.
Sixty hours at a chess board is, in the end, a means to an end. The real game Tunde Onakoya is playing is far longer, and far more consequential — and by every measure, he is winning it.


























