Nigeria is at a critical juncture that demands introspection, courage, and decisive action. We are a country with a proud and vibrant intellectual heritage, from the thought-provoking prose of Chinua Achebe to the global literary resonance of Prof Wole Soyinka, Prof. Zainab Alkali, Prof Niyi Osundare, the list is inexhaustible. Our history is rich with voices that have challenged injustice, shaped global conversations, and inspired generations. But today, that proud legacy is fading.
We are witnessing the rapid devaluation of intellect in our society. This is not a distant threat, but a pressing issue that demands immediate attention and action.
Our libraries are growing silent, and our bookstores are becoming relics of the past. Reading was once a cherished pursuit, a link to new worlds and deeper understanding. Now, it competes with the ever-present glow of smartphones and the dopamine-fueled scroll through social media. Figures like Peller, Jarvis, and Sabinus dominate headlines and trend lists, not because they uplift the national conscience but because they entertain, distract, and momentarily numb a generation craving escape from reality.
But what does it say about us when the people we celebrate most are not the thinkers, the writers, the educators, but entertainers and influencers whose fame is often detached from depth or substance? What message are we sending to the next generation?
Our children witness the neglect of those who enrich the nation’s soul. Meanwhile, entertainers bask in the spotlight, featuring at lavishly sponsored events, distorting our children’s understanding of success. We are raising a generation that sees knowledge not as a source of pride but as a burden. This is not just a cultural issue, but a national emergency, and it’s time we address it.
This intellectual neglect isn’t confined to popular culture; it is deeply institutional. The recent figures released by the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) are heartbreaking and horrifying. Between May and August of 2024 alone, 84 Nigerian academics, including seasoned professors, lost their lives—not in war, not from age, but from the slow, grinding poverty that has become the price of serving in Nigeria’s education sector.
Their deaths are not accidents. They are the predictable outcome of deliberate neglect. The “No Work, No Pay” policy and chronically unpaid salaries have left those shaping the minds of our future unable to afford the most basic necessities like food, shelter, and healthcare. They die quietly, without fanfare, with chalk dust still clinging to their fingers.
Consider the tragic passing of Dr. Inih Ebong, an associate professor of Theatre Arts who was unjustly sacked 24 years ago and never received justice in his lifetime. At 73, he died in a country that abandoned him. His wife’s trembling voice, announcing his death, was more than grief; it was the echo of a nation that has failed its own.
General Mamman Vatsa’s words now ring with chilling clarity:
I will hate to think that by the time you finish with me, my children shall be so scared of the system that they shall never come near it, for a lean liberty is better than fat slavery.”
He was right. Nigeria is steadily becoming a place where pursuing knowledge and justice is difficult and dangerous.
And yet, what has been the government’s response? Platitudes, empty promises, occasional statements of concern, and no will to act. If serious about reversing this decline, we must move beyond lip service and implement fundamental reforms. The time for change is now.
We can support our educators by ensuring regular salary payments, adequate healthcare, and pensions that honour their service. Beyond the support for educators, the publishing industry can be revived by reducing the crushing costs of printing, importing materials, and distributing books. We can also create platforms for writers, thinkers, and educators to thrive, not merely survive. This could involve establishing more literary festivals, increasing funding for research and development, and providing more opportunities for public engagement. We owe it to those who taught us, those who write our stories, and those who still believe in the power of ideas to build a better world.
A nation that neglects its builders will inevitably forget its future. If we are to reclaim our position as a centre of intellectual and artistic excellence, we must invest in our educators, protect our writers, and reignite the love of reading in the hearts of our youth. The future of Nigeria depends on it.
.Abdulazeez is a poet and the author of the poetry collection “Soul Rants: A Journey from Within.” She is the Communication Officer at the Caprecon Foundation and the Treasurer of PEN International, Nigerian Centre, and she resides in Lagos. Contact: +234-8034816865 (mailto:umuhfaisal@gmail.com)
