Cameroon’s Coaching Soap: From “Untouchable” to Out, Brys Leaves with €65k

[YAOUNDÉ, Dec 16, 2025 — Cameroon Concord] — Marc Brys spent months acting like Cameroon’s football institutions were optional — ignoring protocols, escalating public quarrels, and turning the Indomitable Lions’ bench into a personal courtroom. Now the story appears to have reached its simplest ending: paperwork, exit, and a reported €65,000 settlement — not the “billions” whispered in corridor propaganda.

Belgian football media reported in mid-December that a strange but “official-looking” document surfaced referencing a €65,000 severance-style arrangement tied to Brys’ departure.  In earlier reporting, the saga had already shown how unstable the “Brys file” was: in July 2025, FECAFOOT announced his exit, while Brys denied resigning, claiming his email was likely hacked — a public mess serious enough to make global wires. 

What matters now is not the number alone, but what it represents: Cameroon once again paying — politically, financially, and psychologically — for a governance crisis that should never have been allowed to swallow the national team.

The €65,000 exit — and the myth of “3 billion”

Let’s be clear: the €65,000 figure making the rounds (and cited by Belgian outlets as appearing on a document linked to the departure) is nowhere near the fantasy sums some actors pushed in WhatsApp rumours. 

But even “only” €65,000 raises the real question: why should Cameroon pay anything for dysfunction that the coach himself fed daily? If your contract authority is disputed, your working relationship poisoned, and your conduct repeatedly antagonistic, an exit should be about accountability, not consolation.

Brys’ core problem: disrespect as a management style

Brys’ Cameroon chapter wasn’t defined by tactics. It was defined by posture — the stubborn insistence that FECAFOOT could be bypassed, that the federation president could be insulted, and that public pressure would force Cameroon to bow.

This wasn’t “strong personality.” It looked like institutional sabotage dressed as courage. A national team is not a private project. A coach does not get to choose which institutions exist — especially not in a country where football is identity, diplomacy, and social oxygen.

FECAFOOT vs MINSEP: the real battlefield he exploited

From the start, the Brys appointment sat inside a known fault line: government authority (MINSEP) versus federation authority (FECAFOOT). Reuters reported that Brys signed a deal with the sports ministry in April 2024 while FECAFOOT conspicuously stayed away — a warning sign that the marriage was already broken before the wedding photos. Reuters

Instead of navigating that tension with discipline, Brys appeared to weaponize it — playing one side against the other, feeding the chaos, and then acting surprised when the fire reached his own chair.

“No FIFA route” — and why that matters

A key point in your brief is important: Brys was reportedly not contracted by FECAFOOT, which complicates the classic “go to FIFA” narrative people like to throw around when they want to sound legal. That’s exactly why this case ends in administrative settlement politics, not a clean sporting-court showdown.

And that’s also why Cameroon must learn: stop building national-team structures on legal ambiguity. If authority is split, the national team becomes a hostage.

So what should happen now?

Not violence. Not street vengeance. Institutional consequences. If Cameroon wants this cycle to end, it needs a cold, public cleanup:

1. Publish an official timeline of appointments, letters, and decisions (MINSEP + FECAFOOT).

2. Independent audit of financial commitments tied to the Brys era (who authorized what, and why).

3. Disciplinary dossier: catalogue breaches of duty (attendance, communications, insubordination claims) and make the conclusions public.

4. Governance reset: one clear chain of authority for the national team — no more double-command confusion.

Because the real disgrace is not only a stubborn coach. The disgrace is a system that keeps producing the same chaos — and then acting shocked when it explodes on live television.