“A new platform to represent Botswana,” says Amos on his coaching role in Iran

On a bright London evening in 2012, a teenager from Marobela wrote Botswana’s name into Olympic history. Nijel Amos, just 18, surged down the home straight of the 800m final, chasing the great David Rudisha in what remains one of the fastest races ever run. Rudisha took gold with a world record; Amos claimed silver — and with it, Botswana’s first Olympic medal. Back home, jubilation swept through towns and villages. Streets filled with singing and flag-waving; a nation had found its sporting hero. That silver medal felt like gold, a symbol of what was possible for a small African country on the grandest stage. Thirteen years on, the roar of the crowd has long faded. The spikes that once danced on the track now rest quietly. Amos’ career — a journey of brilliance, controversy, and redemption — has taken a new turn. The Olympic medallist, now 31, is not preparing for another race but shaping others to run theirs. His new title: National Middle Distance Coach for the Islamic Republic of Iran. “It’s an emotional transition, to be honest,” Amos says from Iran. “Botswana will always be home — it’s where my journey began, where I stood on the Olympic podium, and where my heart will always belong. Representing the country as an athlete was one of my greatest honours.” He pauses before adding, “Now, stepping into a coaching role in another nation doesn’t take that away — it actually gives me a new platform to represent Botswana in a different way. Everywhere I go, I carry my roots with me. The lessons, the values, and the pride of being Motswana guide how I coach and lead.” Amos sees this new chapter not as an exile, but an expansion. “I don’t see it as leaving Botswana,” he says. “It’s about expanding Botswana’s presence in the world of sport.” A career of brilliance and burden Amos’s rise was meteoric. That 2012 silver came after only a few months of international competition — he had just competed at the World Junior Championships. The 1:41.73 he clocked in London remains one of the fastest times in history. For a while, he looked destined to dominate the 800m for a generation. He went on to win the Diamond League, several African titles, and a Commonwealth Games gold. Yet, his story was never a simple sprint. Injuries, inconsistency, and off-track challenges shadowed his progress. Then came the darkest chapter. On 12 July 2022, Amos was provisionally suspended for testing positive for GW1516, a banned metabolic modulator. In May 2023, his three-year ban was confirmed — backdated to July 2022. His athletic career effectively froze. “I made mistakes,” he admits quietly. “But I learned from them. The hardest moments teach you the most.” By the time his ban expired in July 2025, speculation was rife: would Botswana’s golden boy return? The answer was no. Instead of lacing up again, he picked up a stopwatch. “When my competitive chapter closed, it was clear to me that the next step was to become a master of the game — through coaching,” he says. “It’s always been my dream to grow within the sport. So when the opportunity with Iran’s national team came up, I was ready. I had prepared myself for this transition, and it felt like the right moment to give back to the sport that shaped me.” From the track to the tactics board The job offer came directly from the Iranian Athletics Federation. “They approached me,” Amos explains. “Honestly, the timing couldn’t have been better. I had just completed my coaching course, so stepping into a hands-on role felt like the perfect next step. Having the opportunity to apply what I’ve learned, share my experience, and help shape a growing athletics programme made it an easy decision.” His role in Iran is wide-ranging: designing training programmes, overseeing technical preparation, and guiding middle-distance athletes through national and international competitions. Yet for Amos, coaching isn’t just about workouts and race plans — it’s about people. “One big thing I’ll bring into my coaching is understanding the athlete as a whole person — not just as a performer,” he says. “I know what it feels like to chase times, deal with pressure, injuries, and expectations. So, I want to build a system that focuses not only on performance, but also on mental strength, balance, and personal growth.” His coaching philosophy is grounded in empathy and discipline — lessons forged in both triumph and turmoil. “Talent alone is never enough,” he says. “Structure, consistency, and belief make the difference. I’ll emphasise discipline, smart training, and long-term thinking — helping athletes see beyond just one race or one season.” In his words: “My philosophy is to coach with empathy, demand excellence, and create an environment where athletes can thrive both on and off the track.” Building belief in Tehran Iran may not be the first nation one associates with middle-distance running, but Amos sees enormous potential. “The talent is there — you can see the natural strength, discipline, and hunger to learn,” he says. “What’s exciting for me is that the foundation is already being built. The athletes are motivated, and there’s a clear desire from the federation to grow the sport the right way.” His immediate focus, he says, is on structure and sustainability. “We’re focusing on technical efficiency, race intelligence, and introducing modern recovery and conditioning methods that match global standards,” he explains. “At the same time, I want to help these athletes believe they can compete with the best in the world. Once that belief meets structure, the results will come.” Iran, he insists, has what it takes to produce world-class 800m and 1500m runners — “it’s just about refining the process and trusting the journey.” Lessons from two worlds Having been coached by some of the best minds in athletics, Amos intends to fuse international knowledge with local insight. “Iranian athletes have incredible natural ability and hunger — they just need the right system, mindset, and support around them,” he says. “I want to take the international methods I’ve experienced — from training science to mental preparation — and adapt them to suit our environment here. It’s not about copying what others do, but creating something uniquely ours.” That adaptive mindset, he believes, can bridge cultures. “The Middle East has a very strong sense of discipline and structure,” he says. “I’ve found that once athletes understand why they’re doing something, they commit fully.” Yet Amos is also acutely aware of the contrasts between his homeland and his new base. “From my experience, the biggest difference between Africa — especially Botswana — and the Middle East lies in structure and investment,” he says. “In the Middle East, there’s a very clear system: strong financial backing, modern facilities, sports science, and well-defined athlete pathways. Everything is planned from the grassroots to the elite level.” Africa, he reflects, has something money can’t buy. “We have the raw talent and hunger — that’s something special. But often we lack the systems to sustain that talent over time. Our athletes grow up training on passion and natural ability, not always with access to proper recovery, nutrition, or performance monitoring.” He hopes to see Botswana invest in building systems that match its spirit. “The talent is there — I’ve seen it. We just need to create an environment where that talent can truly grow.” Redemption and renewal Amos’s move to coaching in Iran might surprise those who remember him as the smiling prodigy from London 2012, but perhaps it shouldn’t. His story has always been about adaptation — from prodigy to professional, from champion to student, and now, from athlete to mentor. He knows he will always be remembered for that Olympic night, for the silver medal that turned into gold in the hearts of Batswana. But now, his mission is different — quieter, perhaps, but no less meaningful. “This next chapter is about sharing what I’ve learned globally, while still being a reflection of where I come from,” he says. “I want to help shape the next generation — to give them what I had, and what I didn’t.” For a man who once carried Botswana’s hopes on his shoulders, the new role feels like destiny fulfilled — not on the podium, but beside the track, guiding others toward it. “I’ve stood on the Olympic podium,” he says softly. “Now I want to help someone else stand there.”

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