In Nigeria, the renaming of universities and higher institutions after distinguished individuals has become a familiar, often contentious, gesture. What might seem like a symbolic act of national recognition reveals a deeper truth: institutional identity operates like organisational DNA — deeply embedded, slowly developed, and remarkably resistant to external modification. This genetic-like quality explains why some attempts to rename institutions succeed while others trigger fierce resistance or fail altogether.
Oyo State Governor, Seyi Makinde’s recent announcement to rename The Polytechnic, Ibadan as Omololu Olunloyo Polytechnic sparked DNA-protection responses. Dr. Olunloyo, who died recently at 89, was a former governor of the state and the institution’s founding rector. Though Makinde praised Olunloyo as a technocrat and cultural icon, the decision triggered fierce opposition.
Students blocked roads, alumni associations mobilised, and advocacy groups warned of undermining global recognition and institutional identity. Their alternative proposal — naming a library or road after the late former governor — revealed intuitive understanding that institutional DNA has core and peripheral elements.
Successful renaming shares a crucial characteristic: they reinforce rather than disrupt existing institutional DNA. In 1987, the University of Ife became Obafemi Awolowo University, a change broadly accepted because Awolowo had played a significant role in the university’s founding. The renaming felt like recognition rather than replacement.
Similarly, Anambra State University’s transformation into Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu University in 2014 aligned with regional pride and the revered status of the late Igbo leader. Both changes worked because they honoured the institution’s genetic code rather than attempting to rewrite it.
The 2012 attempt to rename the University of Lagos (UNILAG) as Moshood Abiola University represents perhaps the most dramatic example of misjudging institutional identity’s power. President Goodluck Jonathan’s administration fundamentally underestimated the brand equity that UNILAG had accumulated over decades.
Protests erupted across the campus, with students and faculty accusing the government of imposing change without proper consultation. The UNILAG Alumni Association secured a court injunction, arguing that the university had developed its own prestigious brand that could not be erased by executive fiat. The backlash was so intense that the federal government eventually retreated, learning that institutional DNA cannot be rewritten through political decree.
Similar resistance has emerged around proposals to rename the University of Abuja after General Yakubu Gowon and the Federal University of Technology Akure after former President Shehu Shagari. Alumni consistently express concern that such changes might dilute hard-earned institutional identity and cause disruptions in documentation and international recognition.
While Nigeria maintains established procedures for renaming — National Assembly debates for federal institutions, state assembly processes for state universities — legal compliance does not guarantee acceptance. The successful legislative renaming of Alex Ekwueme Federal University and Joseph Sarwuan Tarka University in 2019 followed due process, yet the emotional and practical upheaval remains significant.
University documentation, transcripts, certificates, and promotional materials require updating. For alumni, such shifts may cast doubt on their degrees’ perceived value in global academic and professional spaces. The process is not merely bureaucratic — it is an assault on collective memory and shared identity.
Newer institutions demonstrate how institutional DNA requires time to solidify. The First Technical University in Ibadan was renamed Senator Abiola Ajimobi First Technical University in 2021 with little resistance. Given the university’s recent establishment and lack of entrenched identity, the change was seen as symbolic rather than disruptive. But such flexibility rarely extends to older, more established institutions with large alumni bases and international reputations.
International comparisons reveal that institutional identity concerns transcend cultural boundaries. Yale University eventually renamed Calhoun College as Grace Hopper College in 2017 after intense scrutiny of its slavery-linked legacy. UK universities increasingly examine benefactors with problematic histories. However, whole-university renaming remain rare globally, with preference for changes to specific departments, colleges, or programmes — preserving institutional stability while engaging with history.
Growing support exists for honouring individuals without disrupting institutional DNA. Rather than renaming entire institutions, specific buildings, faculties, or research centres could bear national heroes’ names. Libraries, auditoriums, or technology parks could serve commemorative purposes while maintaining brand continuity and historical coherence. This approach acknowledges that institutional identity operates on multiple levels — core identity can be preserved while creating meaningful commemorative spaces.
Successful renaming share common genetic markers: strong honouree-institution connections, transparent processes, and public goodwill. Failed attempts suffer from top-down imposition, lack of consultation, and disregard for community sentiment. The ongoing debates reveal that institutional identity functions as organisational DNA — providing continuity, meaning, and resilience against external pressures.
As Nigeria continues commemorating its heroes, the fundamental question emerges: Should national honour require sacrificing institutional identity? The evidence suggests a more nuanced approach — one that recognises institutional DNA as an asset to be carefully stewarded rather than a barrier to overcome.
The decision to rename a university is never just about a name. It is a reckoning with legacy, pride, and the delicate balance between honouring national figures and preserving educational brand identity. In a country still writing its complex history, understanding and respecting institutional DNA may be the key to successful commemoration that serves both memory and mission.
