In the face of severe neglect, deprivation, and continuous public ridicule, Nigerian lecturers have remained unwavering in their commitment to national development. Despite working under some of the most challenging conditions, these intellectuals continue to shape the minds that drive Nigeria’s economy, governance, and global reputation. They are the silent builders of the nation, yet they are often the most despised, underappreciated, and impoverished among public servants.
Over the years, Nigerian lecturers have been ridiculed and insulted, mostly when they dare to demand better funding for education, improved infrastructure, and decent wages. Instead of being seen as partners in progress, they are treated as adversaries—vilified for advocating the very reforms necessary to salvage our decaying education system.
Yet, in spite of the absence of state-of-the-art laboratories, poorly equipped studios, outdated libraries, and crumbling lecture theatres, Nigerian lecturers persevere. They work long hours, sacrifice personal comfort, and still produce graduates who not only sustain the country’s workforce but also excel globally, proving their worth in competitive international arenas.
A Profession Under Attack from All Sides
Nigerian lecturers face attacks from every possible stakeholder—students, parents, government officials, the general public, and even fellow colleagues. Everyone seems to have an opinion on what is wrong with the academic community, yet few acknowledge the suffocating conditions under which these scholars operate.
More recently, lecturers have been reduced to beggars. Their salaries, stagnant for years, have lost value in the face of rising inflation. University-based unions have been demonized simply for reminding the government of its responsibilities. Many lecturers can no longer afford basic healthcare, with stories circulating of professors scared to take their spouses to hospitals due to bills they cannot pay. Some have resorted to selling their cars just to survive. Others now commute via public tricycles (Keke Napep) or motorcycles (Jincheng, Nanfang, Bajaj)—a reality that once seemed unimaginable for individuals who trained some of the best minds in this country.
Worse still, the erosion of dignity has reached a point where many lecturers are no longer credit-worthy. It is the height of poverty when a respected academic wakes up and realizes he cannot afford the most basic necessities of life, cannot meet the needs of his family, and cannot even walk into a neighborhood kiosk without fear of being denied credit.
Sacrifices Without Rewards
Despite these hardships, Nigerian lecturers continue to produce world-class graduates, win international research grants, publish ground-breaking articles cited across the globe, and contribute significantly to global knowledge production. Their students go on to excel in postgraduate programs abroad, winning medals and making Nigeria proud. Yet, back home, their mentors and trainers languish in poverty.
Compare this to other sectors in Nigeria: politicians do not beg for improved welfare. Judges, lawmakers, and executive appointees do not have to stage protests to get their salaries reviewed. Their welfare packages are quietly negotiated, approved, and implemented without delay. But for university lecturers? Their salary structure has been “under review” since 2009, with promises that remain unfulfilled to date. Even the so-called budgetary provision for the revitalization of universities and Earned Academic Allowances remains a mirage—nothing to celebrate until the funds are actually released.
And yet, through all this, Nigerian lecturers remain steadfast.
A Question of Strength: How Do We Keep Going?
At times, I wonder where this resilience comes from. How do Nigerian lecturers still wake up every morning and show up in lecture halls, knowing that their labor is undervalued? How do they keep mentoring students, conducting research, and supervising these when they are battling personal financial crises?
In recent times, there have been reports of some lecturers resorting to extortion—charging students for thesis defenses or other unofficial fees. While this is condemnable, should we not ask ourselves: Has the government and society itself not played a role in pushing lecturers to this point? But that is a discussion for another day.
A Well-Deserved Commendation
Today, I choose not to dwell on the failings of the system. Instead, I want to commend Nigerian lecturers—not just for surviving but for thriving against all odds. I salute those whose students have won international medals, whose research work is cited globally, and who, despite all the frustrations, continue to inspire the next generation of Nigerian scholars.
To our university unions, I acknowledge your sacrifices and fearless dedication to the cause. History will remember your struggle. May God grant us leaders who, out of patriotism, will ensure that we at least have “transport fare” to collect our heavenly rewards—because even that, at this point, is not guaranteed.
To my fellow Nigerian tertiary institution workers, I say: Good morning and keep the faith.
By Dr. I. M. Lawal, ABU Zaria
Email: lawalabusalma@gmail.com
