In the evolving world of work, internships have been positioned as a bridge between education and employment, offering young graduates an opportunity to gain practical experience and apply classroom knowledge in a professional setting. In theory, this sounds noble and mutually beneficial. However, in Nigeria, a troubling trend has taken root — the silent crisis of unpaid internships. This practice is not only exploitative but also deepens inequality, stifles talent, and undermines the very essence of workplace fairness.
Across industries, from media houses to law firms, NGOs to corporate organizations, the idea of offering “exposure” and “experience” in place of financial remuneration has become normalized. Many organizations frame it as an act of generosity, giving fresh graduates a chance to “learn on the job” while conveniently sidestepping their ethical and often legal responsibility to pay for labour. What is worse is that many interns are not just making coffee or shadowing staff; they are performing critical tasks that contribute directly to organizational goals, drafting reports, handling client correspondence, managing social media accounts, assisting in project execution, and sometimes even leading initiatives. Yet, they go home with nothing more than a handshake or a “thank you” at the end of the month.
The argument from employers is often that these young people are “gaining invaluable experience” and that the opportunity itself should be enough reward. This perspective ignores the lived realities of these interns. Many of them commute long distances, incurring transportation costs that eat into their already strained resources. Others have to buy professional clothing to meet workplace dress codes, not to mention the basic human need for food and shelter. In urban centres like Lagos and Abuja, where the cost of living is unforgiving, expecting young people to work for months without pay is nothing short of economic cruelty.
The long-term implications of this practice are dangerous for the Nigerian labour market. First, unpaid internships create a gatekeeping system that favours only those from financially stable backgrounds. Young people from lower-income families are often forced to decline such opportunities, not because they lack talent or ambition, but because they simply cannot afford to work for free. This means that workplaces lose out on diverse perspectives and skills, perpetuating elitism in professional spaces.
Secondly, it sends a damaging message to the incoming workforce that their labour is disposable. When young graduates start their careers being told — directly or indirectly — that their time, energy, and skills do not deserve financial compensation, it becomes harder for them to negotiate fair pay in the future. This fuels the wider culture of underpayment and wage stagnation in the country, where even full-time employees are often grossly underpaid for the value they bring.
From a legal standpoint, Nigeria’s labour laws are not explicit enough in protecting interns. While the Labour Act covers “employees” with clear employer-employee relationships, many internships are structured in a grey zone where the intern is neither a full-time staff member nor an independent contractor. This legal ambiguity allows organizations to exploit young workers without fear of consequences. Unfortunately, government agencies and labour unions have not done enough to address this gap, leaving interns to fend for themselves in a system stacked against them.
But the situation is not without solutions. The first and most urgent step is to establish clear regulations on internship remuneration in Nigeria. Even if employers cannot afford to pay interns the same as full-time staff, there should be a mandated stipend that at least covers basic transportation and feeding. This is not just a matter of kindness; it is a matter of fairness. Labour, no matter how “junior” or “temporary,” deserves compensation.
Employers must also rethink their hiring practices. If an organization truly values learning and capacity building, it can create short-term paid apprenticeship programs that provide structured training while offering a livable allowance. This way, the arrangement remains a learning opportunity without being exploitative.
Finally, young people themselves must be empowered to demand better. This is where HR professionals, career coaches, and advocacy groups have a crucial role to play in educating graduates about their rights and encouraging collective action when faced with exploitative offers. The power of social media has shown time and again that public pressure can force organizations to rethink unethical policies. If unpaid internships are publicly called out for what they are — unpaid labour — the culture will begin to shift.
The future of Nigeria’s workforce depends on how we treat those just entering the labour market. Unpaid internships may seem like a harmless tradition or a necessary compromise in tough economic times, but in reality, they are a silent crisis eroding the foundations of workplace fairness. A nation that tells its youth to “work for free” is a nation that undervalues its own future. It is time for Nigeria to recognize that paying interns is not charity, it is justice.
Samuel Jekeli a Human Resources Professional writes from Abuja, Nigeria
