Nigeria’s public university system stands at the cusp of yet another crippling strike by the Academic Staff Union of Universities. The grievances are neither new nor frivolous. For 15 years—since the 2009 FGN-ASUU Memorandum of Understanding—university lecturers have watched their salaries eroded by high inflation.
Successive administrations have either ignored the agreement entirely or implemented it in ways that mock the spirit of negotiation. The result is predictable: low morale, plummeting productivity, rampant brain drain, and a strike record that shames the country.
Sadly, past Presidents Goodluck Jonathan, Muhammadu Buhari and the incumbent recklessly established more institutions, even as inflation decimated the value of the N1.3 trillion 2009 agreement.
Between 2009 and 2022 alone, Nigerian students lost more than three academic sessions to lecturers’ strikes, some lasting eight to nine months.
President Bola Tinubu, during his election campaign, declared that ASUU would not embark on any strike under his watch. Lecturers, in an extraordinary show of goodwill, granted him an extended honeymoon although none of the core issues—earned academic allowances, university revitalisation and salary review—had been resolved. That patience seems now exhausted.
On Tuesday, ASUU threatened an indefinite strike from Friday, claiming that the government had failed to address the outstanding issues within a month-long window, granted after an earlier warning strike, which has now closed.
The message is clear: this administration, like its predecessors, sees no urgency in honouring commitments to the academic community.
The consequences of inaction are already devastating. Nigerian professors are among the poorest paid in Africa and the world. A full professor in Nigeria earns between N500,000 and N700,000 monthly, whereas his South African counterpart takes home $4,789 or N7.18 million monthly.
While lecturers struggle to survive on salaries that cannot cover transportation and housing, the government trumpets the Nigerian Education Loan Fund as a flagship achievement. Of what use is a student loan scheme when campuses are shut?
Worse, while existing universities decay—lecture theatres without seats, laboratories without reagents, libraries without current books—the government announces new universities with fanfare.
This prompts questions: if existing universities cannot be adequately funded, why create new liabilities?
The global picture is even more damning. Nigeria allocates less than 7.0 per cent of its annual federal budget to education. By comparison, South Africa spends roughly 19 per cent of its budget (6.2 per cent of GDP) on education; Ghana allocates around 18–20 per cent.
In the First Republic, the Western Region under Obafemi Awolowo allocated between 28.9 per cent and 41.2 per cent to education, the largest share of the budget.
In the United Kingdom, public spending on education hovers around 5.5 per cent of GDP, while the United States averages 5–6 per cent, supplemented by massive state and private investment.
Nigeria ranks 191 out of 208 countries on the World Top 20 Global Education Index—behind DR Congo, Chad, Niger, and Ethiopia.
The country harbours the world’s second-largest population of out-of-school children, a staggering 20 million.
Every strike compounds this tragedy. Female students, stranded for months, fall into exploitation, while male students drift into crime or menial labour. Some never return.
The once-vibrant Nigerian university system that attracted students from across West Africa, and beyond, now repels them.
If nothing is done, the exodus of academic talent will accelerate. Lecturers already moonlight as Uber drivers, traders, farmers or consultants to feed their families.
This has grave consequences. Research output has collapsed. Nigerian universities barely feature in global rankings. Potential teaching talent looks elsewhere. Ghana, Rwanda, and even Botswana now poach Nigeria’s best minds.
Tinubu has demonstrated that resources can be found when political will exists. Billions are allocated for hajj subsidies, presidential jets, luxury SUVs for lawmakers, and dodgy constituency projects. These funds can be mobilised for education, the very engine of future prosperity.
A special intervention fund for university revitalisation and lecturer welfare is not charity; it is an investment in Nigeria’s survival.
The time for toying with university lecturers is over. The Federal Government should honour the 2009 agreement in full and pay the earned academic allowances without further delay. Tinubu must fulfil the promise he made to Nigerian students and their parents.
If another strike begins, history will record that a government that found money for expensive vehicles and pilgrimages could not find it for the classrooms that produce doctors, engineers, and the next generation of leaders.
Mr President, avert this strike.
