Controversy Erupts Over December 2025 Historical Rally Inclusion in Côte d’Ivoire Championship
By Mwambazi Lawrence & Rob Styles
The December 2025 Historical Rally, initially unveiled as a special commemorative event to relive the early hours of the legendary Bandama Rally, has now turned into a full-blown motorsport soap opera the kind that could make even Netflix ask for the rights. What was meant to celebrate Côte d’Ivoire’s rich rallying heritage has instead become a circus of confusion, frustration, and horn-honking outrage among competitors and team managers.
FISA, the Ivorian Motor Sport Federation, had a noble idea or so it seemed. A “classic rally” to relive the glory days, they said. But then came October 3, 2025, when FISA’s Technical Director decided to spice things up by announcing that this nostalgia tour would actually count toward the 2025 National Rally Championship standings. This was revealed after the season had officially ended, long after drivers had hung up their helmets and switched to family life and fried plantains.
It was like calling back players for an extra penalty shootout after the trophy had already been lifted. Most drivers couldn’t tell whether to laugh, cry, or just start looking for their old rally overalls in the laundry basket.
The problem? According to FIA rules, only cars with official Historic Technical Passports are allowed to participate in such events. The catch? FISA doesn’t even have a technical commission to issue them. It’s like organizing a flight with no pilots and announcing boarding anyway.
To make matters worse, Côte d’Ivoire currently has fewer than four cars that qualify as “historic,” meaning most of the active championship contenders would be sidelined. The situation paints a picture where 90% of the drivers would be cheering from the sidelines while a select few take the stage. Some joked that they might as well enter their grandmothers’ Peugeot 206s and call them vintage.
And just when you thought the gears couldn’t grind any louder, FISA reportedly planned to stretch the eligibility cutoff from the year 2000 to 2006 conveniently allowing a few lucky cars (and familiar names) to compete. For many, this felt less like regulation and more like “family discount racing.” The new rules seem to bend faster than a control arm after a rough landing.
Then there’s the rally itself 1,500 kilometers over three days, with a format straight out of the 1970s. Back then, cars were steel beasts, and men fixed punctures with a hammer and a prayer. Today’s machines, delicate and thirsty, would need at least 15 refueling stops and an accountant to track the AvGas bills. At 3,000 FCFA per liter, the real race might be who runs out of cash first.
Modern rally stars like Gary Chaynes and Frédéric Nobou would have to trade their performance notes for endurance strategies. Mechanics will be packing extra coffee instead of spare tires, and co-drivers might start writing their wills instead of pacenotes.
While the intention may have been pure to honor the Bandama legacy the execution feels more like a comedy of errors than a championship finale. Instead of uniting the motorsport community, the rally seems to have divided it faster than a gearbox failure.
The Historical Rally could have been a grand tribute roaring engines, dust clouds, and vintage glory. Instead, it’s turning into a three-day drama of regulations, fuel bills, and disbelief. The only thing truly “historic” about it might be the level of confusion it leaves behind.
When December comes, Côte d’Ivoire might not just be hosting a rally it might be hosting the biggest motorsport sitcom Africa has ever seen.
Email: m.lawrence@mmpll.com
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