At the members’ concourse inside Allianz Stadium, where AFC Asian Cup matchday rituals usually involve pre-game pints and a scan of the team sheet, something rather unexpected has taken the field.
Not players, but portraits.
Lining the walls are striking photographic images of footballs. But not the pristine, panel-stitched kind you might expect at one of Sydney’s premier sporting arenas. These balls are handmade from rags, banana leaves, strips of bark and tightly wound plastic bags. Some are lopsided. Others look as though they’ve survived a thousand backyard kickabouts.
Together they form Odilo Lawiny, a powerful photographic series by documentary photographer Brian Hodges that celebrates the ingenuity of Ugandan youth and the universal pull of what fans affectionately call the beautiful game.
The timing feels apt. As international football returns to Sydney via the AFC Asian Cup, and fans once again flood the stadium for elite competition, Hodges’ images offer a reminder that the soul of football is not forged under floodlights alone. Sometimes it begins on a dusty patch of earth, with a ball made from whatever happens to be within arm’s reach.
In rural Uganda, where formal equipment is often scarce, children craft their own footballs from discarded materials. In the Acholi language, people call these improvised creations odilo lawiny, spinning them into existence from rags, socks, leaves, tyre fragments or plastic bags, all bound together with string or vine.
The result is rarely symmetrical, and almost never built to last. A ball might survive weeks of spirited play – or unravel spectacularly after one particularly enthusiastic volley.
But perfection is beside the point.
Across Uganda, people play football on any patch of relatively flat ground. Goalposts might be marked with rocks or branches. The playing surface could be grassy, sandy, weedy or bone-dry. Some players sprint barefoot, others in worn trainers or rubber sandals. Yet, the energy is unmistakable – a swirl of laughter, rivallry and pride as children chase the ball with the same intensity seen in stadiums half a world away.
For Hodges, capturing these objects became a way of telling a deeper story about resilience and creativity.
“These precious jewels are a symbol of Africa’s passion for football. Each is a unique work of art. They speak of people who manage to do so much with so little,” he says.
A careful documentary eye captures each ball, presenting it like a museum artefact – isolated against a clean background and illuminated with quiet reverence. Removed from their dusty playing fields and reframed through Hodges’ lens, the objects become unexpectedly sculptural. Knots, fibres and plastic layers reveal a kind of accidental design language – improvised engineering that is both practical and strangely beautiful.
If the photographs look familiar to readers of glossy travel magazines, that is no coincidence. Hodges’ work has appeared in publications including Conde Nast Traveler, The New York Times Style Magazine and National Geographic Traveler, and his career has taken him across more than 60 countries in pursuit of human-centred stories.
“I’m an insatiably curious explorer trying to understand the world outside my comfort zone,” Hodges says. “I’ve discovered a tool that imparts me with the magical powers of connection to others and opens doors into other cultures. My tool is my camera.”
That camera has now carried this story to Sydney, where the exhibition is playing a rather poetic home game at Allianz Stadium – a venue steeped in football history. Over the years, the stadium has welcomed some of the sport’s biggest names, from Diego Maradona to Alessandro Del Piero, and hosted matches during the electrifying 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup.
Against that backdrop of elite sport and global spectacle, Odilo Lawiny feels like a gentle but meaningful counterattack. Where professional football dazzles with precision passing and million-dollar sponsorships, these humble balls tell a different story – one of ingenuity, imagination and the simple joy of the game.
The exhibition’s opening evening added another powerful layer to the narrative. Hosted by curator and writer Alison Kubler, the conversation also featured Akec Makur Chuot, whose own journey echoes many of the themes within the exhibition.
Born in South Sudan and raised in the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya before migrating to Australia, Chuot went on to become the first African woman drafted into the AFLW. Across 40 games with Fremantle, Richmond and Hawthorn, she carved out a career defined not only by athletic skill but by advocacy and representation.
Today she uses her platform to champion gender equality, diversity and opportunity for women and girls – proof that sport can be a powerful vehicle for change far beyond the final whistle.
The exhibition itself also carries a purpose that extends well beyond the gallery wall. All proceeds from print sales support African Women Rising, which works with women affected by war in Northern Uganda to help them build sustainable livelihoods and lift themselves out of extreme poverty.
Through the generosity of an anonymous donor, every photograph purchased will be matched, effectively doubling the impact.
A curated selection of the works is also on display at Hugh Stewart Gallery, offering Sydneysiders another opportunity to see the series up close.
Yet there is something particularly fitting about encountering the images at a football stadium. Between the roar of crowds and the tension of penalty shootouts, the exhibition acts as a quiet halftime reflection – a reminder that the spirit of football does not begin with sponsorship deals or televised finals.
It begins with a ball.
Even if that ball happens to be made of leaves, plastic bags and a little bit of hope
Exhibition details:
Allianz Stadium Members, Moore Park: February 27 to April 30, 2026
Hugh Stewart Gallery: February 28 to March 29, 2026