Opinion

Nigerian Languages Must Not Die

Published

13 years ago

August 17, 2012

Before me on my table as I write this article is a letter
from a school in Enugu State, stating that for my nephew who intends to
continue his seminary training in the
state to be admitted into the Senior Seminary, he must have credit in Igbo
language.

The letter further states that despite the boy’s brilliant
results from a junior seminary in Rivers State, he must sit for an external
examination in Igbo language, and excel, before he can be qualified to continue
his training for the priesthood.

The poor boy has been sad and devastated since he got the
information. He seems confused as to what next to do since he did not study
Igbo or any Nigerian language both in primary and secondary schools.

He sees the seminary’s insistence on credit in Igbo language
as unfair and a setback in his ambition of being a priest. I however, consider
the decision as laudable.

I see it as a measure that will promote the study of
Nigeria’s indigenous languages which is fast going into extinction.

At an event recently, the President of the Institute of
Project Managers of Nigeria, Dr Victoria Okoronkwo, raised alarm over what she
called an emerging trend, which might lead to loss of local languages and
dialects, if urgent measures were not taken to check it.

Okoronkwo disclosed that studies showned that 60% of most
Nigerian profound dialect speakers are above 50. Quoting a United Nations
report, she said the percentage of children that speak local dialects is
thinning down. “This may result in loss of our identity, our culture, our moral
values and heritage. Hence, preserving our dialects is an important national
challenge that requires our urgent and collective responsibility”.

Similarly, other experts had revealed that most Nigerian
indigenous languages would be extinct in the next three decades, while about 90
per cent of them were projected to be replaced by dominant languages.

Observations show that many people no longer speak their
dialects. Many parents, especially the educated ones, do not communicate with
their children in their dialect and really don’t care if their children speak
their language or not. All they want is for their children to speak English and
other foreign languages. Parents of different ethnic groups most times also
decide to speak a neutral language especially to their children, thereby denying them the identities of their parents.

Beyond this, is the worrisome attitude of some people making
a person who speaks his or her language feel inferior. A young woman recently
narrated to me how her friends who are all of the same ethnic group with her,
mock her whenever she speaks her native language in their midst. For being
proud of her language they nicknamed her, “bushmo” indicating that she is a
primitive, local girl.

Language is defined as arbitrary oral symbols by which a
social group interacts, communicates and self, expressed. It enshrines the
culture, customs and secrets of the people. So, instead of looking down on
people who speak their language, and making them feel their language is
something to be ashamed of, we should try to instill pride in them and emulate
them.

The truth is that English and other foreign languages we
promote can never be our language. No matter how proficient you are in English
and speak it with the English accent, you are not an English man or woman. You
remain a Nigerian. Many of us spend thousands of naira to hire English and
French teachers for our children, (which is not bad), how much do we spend to
teach them their native languages which is their identity?

Countries like China, India, Brazil, and Japan have used
their indigenous languages to excel, why can’t Nigeria do the same?

A professor of Yoruba, Oluyemisi Adebowale of the Department
of Linguistics and languages, Adekunle Ajasin University, Akungba-Akoko, Ondo
State, at a public lecture recently said that for Nigeria to be relevant in the
globalised world, it must emphasie the rejuvenation and sustenance of its
indigenous languages.

The Federal Government’s National Policy on Culture
emphasises the need for conscious and concerted efforts by all levels of
government to promote the teaching of our languages and inclusion of the same
in the school curricular. This policy if fully implemented, will no doubt see
to the revival and promotion of indigenous languages in Nigeria. Schools,
particularly private schools, should be thoroughly monitored to see that they
implement the policy as many of them are very good at promoting foreign
languages, cultures and ideas at the
expense of our own.

Universities and other higher institutions should tow the
line of the Enugu State Seminary and obtaining of the credit in a Nigerian
language a prerequisite for admission into the institutions. National dialect
essay competitions should be organized regularly to promote the use of our
dialects in the best grammatical way possible . This will ensure sustenance and
preservation of the dialects.

A few days ago, the National Institute for Cultural
Orientation (NICO) commenced a one-month intensive indigenous language
programme in Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, Efik, Fulfulde, Gbagyi, Izon, Nupe and Tiv.

According to the Executive Secretary of the Institute, Dr
Barclays Ayakoroma, the programme tagged, “Nigerian Indigenous Language
Programme”, was initiated by the institute in response to the disheartening
state of indigenous languages in Nigeria. This move is most commendable and
should be imitated by other relevant government agencies.

We all have to promote and preserve our indigenous languages
as that is our identity and pride. Until we start speaking our languages,
particularly the small dialects, we may not be able to make an impact.

Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

Ndifon’s Verdict and University Power Reform

Published

1 day ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”But beyond the courtroom victory lies a pressing question: What next? How do we ensure that Nigerian universities no longer serve as hunting grounds for predatory academics? How do we guarantee that students—especially young women—can pursue education without fear of victimization?”

The conviction of Professor Cyril Ndifon, suspended Dean of Law at the University of Calabar, to five years in prison by the Federal High Court Abuja, provided a rare moment of relief amid the week’s troubling national events. Beyond punishing one individual, the judgment signaled that accountability—especially regarding sexual harassment and abuse of power in Nigerian higher institutions—may finally be gaining traction. For years, many students, especially young women, have quietly endured intimidation, coercion, and the misuse of academic privilege. Reports and surveys have consistently shown the depth of this problem. A 2018 World Bank survey estimated that 70% of female graduates had faced some form of sexual harassment in school, while a Nigerian study recorded sexual violence as the most common form of gender-based violence on campuses.

Ndifon’s case has therefore become symbolic—challenging the belief that powerful academics can act with impunity. Justice James Omotosho’s ruling went beyond the conviction; it exposed the systemic rot that enables abuse. His description of Ndifon as a predator highlighted how institutions fail when they lack strong, independent structures for accountability. Although the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) proved its case beyond reasonable doubt, many similar cases never reach court because victims remain afraid, discouraged, or convinced that the system will not protect them. A major difference in this case was that a government agency fulfilled its responsibility rather than letting the matter fade, as often happens with campus scandals. Too often, allegations arise but internal committees stall, victims lose hope, and the accused quietly escape consequences.

This time, however, the judiciary refused to allow such evasion. The court’s decision to center the victims and dismiss attempts to discredit them set an important precedent at a time when survivors are often blamed or pressured into silence. Yet the bigger question remains: What next? How can Nigerian universities become safe spaces where students, particularly young women, can pursue education without fear? First, reporting systems must be overhauled. Traditional structures—where complaints pass through heads of departments or deans—are inadequate, especially when senior officers are the accused. Independent, gender-sensitive complaint bodies are essential. Some institutions, such as the University of Ibadan and Godfrey Okoye University, have already taken steps by establishing gender-mainstreaming units. Other universities must follow suit, ensuring confidentiality, protection from backlash, and transparent investigations.

Second, proven cases of harassment must attract real consequences—not quiet transfers or administrative warnings. Sexual exploitation is not a mere disciplinary issue; it is a crime and should be promptly escalated to law-enforcement agencies. Treating criminal behaviour as an internal matter only emboldens perpetrators. Third, students must feel safe to speak up. As a senior lecturer at the University of Abuja advised, silence fuels impunity. Students need to believe that justice is attainable and that they will be supported. This requires consistent sensitization efforts by student unions, civil society groups, gender advocacy organizations, and ministries of women affairs. New students, in particular, need early guidance to understand their rights and available support systems. The recent approval of the Sexual Harassment of Students (Prevention and Prohibition) Bill, 2025, prescribing up to 14 years imprisonment for educators convicted of harassment, is a step in the right direction.

Quick presidential assent and domestication by states will strengthen legal protection. As Nelson Mandela said, “A society that fails to protect its women cannot claim to be civilized.” This principle must guide Nigeria’s legislative and institutional reforms. The legal profession has its own soul-searching to do. Law faculties are expected to model ethics and justice. When a senior law academic betrays these values, the damage extends beyond the victims—it undermines confidence in both higher education and the justice system. The judiciary’s firm stance in this case therefore reinforces the idea that the law exists to protect the vulnerable, not shield the powerful. Yet, this moment should not end with celebration alone; it must ignite a broader institutional awakening. Universities must begin to review their staff appraisal systems to include behavioural ethics, not just academic output.

Governing councils should strengthen oversight mechanisms and ensure that disciplinary processes are free from internal politics. Alumni associations and parents’ forums can also play a monitoring role, demanding higher standards of conduct from staff and administrators. Importantly, the government must provide universities with the financial and technical support needed to establish functional gender desks, counselling units, and digital reporting platforms. Only when all stakeholders take ownership of the problem can lasting reform be achieved. Professor Ndifon’s sentencing represents justice for one victim, but it must inspire justice for many more. It should mark the beginning of a nationwide resolve to reclaim Nigerian universities from those who misuse authority. The future of education in this country must be shaped by knowledge, dignity, and integrity—not fear or manipulation. The judgment is a call to action: to build campuses where students are safe, where lecturers are held accountable, and where power is exercised with responsibility. Only then can Nigeria truly claim to be nurturing the leaders of tomorrow.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

As Nigeria’s Insecurity Rings Alarm

Published

1 day ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.”

In recent years, Nigeria has witnessed an alarming evolution of insecurity that threatens not only the stability of the nation but also the broader West African region. Bandit attacks on schools, farms, mosques, and Christian worship centers have become distressingly commonplace, painting a grim picture of a country under siege from multiple fronts. The rise of kidnappings for ransom, coupled with the persistent threat of terrorism from groups like Boko Haram and ISWAP, has ignited fears among communities and hampered economic activities. As neighboring Sahel countries grapple with coups and the spread of extremist ideologies, Nigeria finds itself at a precarious crossroads that demands urgent attention and action.

According to media tally, about 2,496 students have been abducted in 92 school attacks since the Chibok saga of 2014. And prompted by recent incidents in Kwara, Kebbi and Niger states, where hundreds of pupils were abducted, state governments across northern Nigeria are shutting down, or relocating schools. Even the federal government last week, via the Federal Ministry of Education hastily ordered principals of 41 unity schools across northern Nigeria, to shut-down.The increasing frequency and audacity of bandit attacks highlight a troubling trend in Nigeria’s security landscape. Schools, once seen as sanctuaries for learning, have become targets for kidnappers seeking to exploit vulnerable students. These attacks not only disrupt education but also instill fear in families, leading to mass withdrawals from schools. Should we raise a generation of children deprived of their right to education?

Similarly, farms and places of worship have not been spared. Communities that once thrived on agriculture and faith, now live in constant dread of violent incursions. The targeted killings of Christians and attacks on mosques further exacerbate religious tensions, threatening to disrupt the social fabric that holds Nigeria together.The situation is compounded by the unsettling developments in the Sahel region, where coups and the rise of jihadist groups have created a volatile environment. The spillover effects of this instability are palpable in Nigeria, as extremist ideologies proliferate and armed groups gain confidence. The porous borders of the region facilitate the movement of militants and weapons, making it increasingly difficult for Nigerian authorities to contain the threats. As Nigeria struggles to secure its territory, the consequences of failure become more pronounced, with the potential for a broader regional crisis looming on the horizon.

President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.

While such attention can bring much-needed awareness to the plight of affected communities, it also underscores a significant truth: the responsibility for addressing these challenges ultimately lies with the Nigerian government. The inaction and apparent inability to protect citizens from violence and ensure justice for victims send a troubling message about the state’s commitment to safeguarding its populace. The economic ramifications of this evolving insecurity are dire. Foreign investment, a critical driver of economic growth, is deterred by the pervasive violence and instability.

Investors are wary of committing resources to a country where the risk of loss is heightened by kidnappings and attacks on businesses.Additionally, agricultural production suffers as farmers abandon their lands, fearing for their safety. The recent upsurge in insecurity coincides with a crucial harvest season, when farmers need to recoup investment to finance the next round. A decline in harvests this year would reverse recent gains of recovery in food production and exacerbate poverty, further straining the nation’s resources. Socially, the implications of failing to tackle insecurity are profound. Mistrust in government institutions grows as citizens witness a lack of effective response to violence and crime. This erosion of faith can lead to civil unrests, as frustrated populations demand accountability and action.

Moreover, the vulnerability of young people in conflict-affected areas increases the risk of radicalization, as they seek identity and purpose in extremist movements that exploit their disillusionment. The South-East crisis is peculiar in this regard. The evolving insecurity in Nigeria is not merely a national crisis; it poses a significant threat to regional stability and international interests. The convergence of banditry, terrorism, and political instability in the Sahel creates a complex security environment that requires a coordinated response. The Nigerian government, in partnership with regional allies and international partners, must adopt a comprehensive strategy that addresses the root causes of insecurity, strengthens law enforcement, and fosters community resilience.

It’s time Nigerians address all regional grievances with reconciliation and empathy, rather than with coercion. As citizens, civil society, and international stakeholders, it is crucial to advocate for effective policies that prioritize security, justice, development and inclusiveness. A collective effort is needed to ensure a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region. Ultimately, Nigeria stands at a critical juncture. The path forward demands decisive action to restore security, rebuild trust, and ensure that all citizens can live without fear. The time for complacency has passed; the stakes are too high, and the consequences of inaction are too grave. A collective effort is essential to navigate this challenging landscape and forge a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region.

By: Joseph Nwankwor

Opinion

The Girl Who Didn’t Dance

Published

6 days ago

November 19, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”

This piece is, primarily, the story of the girl who refused to dance during my first public performance as a pop musician. The event was the birthday party of Okechukwu Ogbowu at the residence of Chief Moses Nma Ogbowu at Omoku in February 1968. Secondarily, it is the story of a group of Ogba/Egbema youths who the chiefs considered rebellious and should, therefore, be watched very carefully. These two anecdotes are woven together by the story of my foray into music as a career in my youth. In 1958, I went on holidays to the home of my uncle Eze JNA Nwachuku at Ahoada. There, I heard a very strange music that tickled my preteen fancy to the point I started singing it using words I made up; I was eight. Back to Alinso Okeanu (Beach) after the holidays, the kids in the cosmopolitan community were wowed by my air and swag while singing the very strange song.

Years later, I learned the real words of the jazz classic “Hit the Road Jack” by Ray Charles. At fifteen, I was arraigned before a juvenile court in Omoku for singing a love song that contained the word “kiss” to the princess of Ogbaland at Ahia Orie market square; though discharged and acquitted, I was bound over to be of good behavior for six months. At sixteen, I got de-robed from the choir of St. Michael’s Church, Omoku for buying a guitar and audaciously changing my name from Enoch. At seventeen, I had my debut at Okechukwu’s birthday party where the girl, who is the primary focus of this piece, did not dance. During the party. I performed three songs: (1) “All My Loving” by The Beatles, which was the song that took me to the juvenile court, (2) “Midnight Hour” by Wilson “Wicked” Pickett and (3) “Please Don’t Tease” by Cliff Richard.

These songs are laden with amorous innuendos and have the words “kiss” and “love”, which were considered sacrilegious in those days. The veiled explicitness of Wicked Pickett’s lyricism didn’t help matters either; it added to the excitement, which became more palpable and the connection between crowd and artiste grew more profound, when Innocent Masi (now Dr. IA Masi mni) placed a five shillings note on my forehead. Everyone at the party virtually summersaulted on the dance floor, which was the interior balcony of Ogbowu’s house, the most beautiful house in Omoku then. The next day, the chiefs held an emergency meeting at the home of Chief S.O. Masi who was Commissioner of Onitsha Province during the First Republic; that province is now Anambra State. The single item on the agenda was the worrisome activities of the youths.

At the end of the meeting, a chief, whose name and the first book of the Gospels would tango smoothly to the rhythms and rhymes of poetry, threatened to shoot me if he ever saw me near his house with my jita. I perfectly understood his predicament; he had many pretty daughters. Poor fellow, unbeknownst to him, I was yet to know the difference between the birds and the bees. The next evening, Monday Wokocha (late Professor Addison), Gary Omo-Odi and I dared the chief in a daredevil episode that belongs in another narrative. He shot…in the air. That day, my parents seized my guitar and grounded me. Subsequently, my uncle Nwachuku whisked me off to Port Harcourt. Back to the party; yes, everyone at the party virtually summersaulted except a girl from Obite who didn’t step on the dance floor. She was slim, beautiful and quite tall for girls (even for boys) of that era; so, she stood very elegant.

Beyond the call-response greetings that characterize the socio-culture of the people of Ogba and Egbema, she was almost taciturn; she was shy and rarely spoke except when spoken to. However, she had a smile that lit up the environment as it contrasted with her ebony skin that glowed with the radiance of youth. I think Kamala Harris placed an order for that specific smile from the warehouse of the Divine on her way to this dimension. The girl who didn’t dance was Ngozi Elemele; daughter of Chief Samuel Elemele, a devout Christian, business man and highly patriotic Ogba man from Obite. Ngozi’s refusal (or was it inability?) to dance made us tease her that she has “two left legs” hence she couldn’t move them to the pulsating and compulsive rhythm of pop music. She just kept on smiling and that was an impregnable armor against our social arrows.

That calmness under relentless peer pressure earned her the moniker “Nwanjinwa” (Girl Nextdoor) amongst us; it contrasted with “Okoronwangbogbo”(prodigal son), which the vicar at St. Michael’s tagged me as he de-robed me from the choir. Those were the heady days of our lives. In 2024, a social commentator subjected the youths of Ogba/Egbema of that era to a critique. He observed that, irrespective of their youthful exuberance with a dose of mischief, that generation of Ogba/Egbema youths effectively took advantage of the ample educational opportunities provided by government immediately after the civil war. Also, he noted that that party produced four medical doctors, two lawyers, one architect, two general managers of parastatals, two chairmen of local government, three permanent secretaries, one head of service, three professors, and a deputy governor.

Concluding the analysis, the critic held that while many in the group held more than one position in the categorization, Ngozi Elemele, the girl who didn’t dance, held more top level public positions than the rest. She was Permanent Secretary, Commissioner, became Professor and is now Deputy Governor. Today, the Obite girl who didn’t dance at the party in 1968 is gracefully and elegantly waltzing at the center stage of Rivers State politics as Her Excellency, Prof Mrs. Ngozi Nma Odu DSSRS, the Deputy Governor of Rivers State. Her excellent performance in public office is a product of decades of fierce focus on the future, dedication and devotion to duty, resolute resilience, humility and simplicity; years spent climbing the arduous ladder of mainstream bureaucracy from Grade Level 08 to the apex of the pyramid, serving as Commissioner and thereafter venturing into the intellectually challenging trajectory of academics and also peaking at the apex of professorship and, eventually, clenching the coveted position of Deputy Governor of Rivers State.

Naturally, I was very delighted and humbled by the honor and privilege of being chairman of the occasion where Akabuka Community honored Her Excellency with a grand reception on October 25, 2025. It was very gratifying that her boss, His Excellency Sir Siminalaye Fubara GSSRS, supportively graced the occasion as Special Guest of Honor, a reflection of humility and simplicity in high profile office, which is uncommon in our society. Who says focus, determination, drive and hard work do not pay? They did then; they do now and they always will. Are the youths of today listening? “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15).

Akparikolamo!!!

By: Jason Osai