Editorial

That FEC’s Decision On Tertiary Institutions

Published

8 hours ago

August 22, 2025

The recent decision of the Federal Executive Council (FEC) to impose a seven-year moratorium on the establishment of new federal tertiary institutions in Nigeria has generated considerable consternation. While the government justifies this embargo as a corrective measure to address chronic underfunding and infrastructural decay, the policy appears more palliative than transformative. Indeed, the moratorium risks exacerbating regional inequalities and stifling legitimate educational aspirations.

Nigeria’s higher education sector is currently in a state of palpable disrepair. With about 68 Federal universities, 42 polytechnics, and 28 CoEs, 29 specialised institutions, 5 uniformed universities, serving a population of over 200 million, the capacity deficit is glaring. UNESCO recommends that 26 per cent of a nation’s annual budget be allocated to education, yet Nigeria routinely spends less than 10 per cent. This fiscal parsimony has engendered dilapidated facilities and perpetuated academic stagnation.

It is incontrovertible that existing universities are underfunded and underutilised. For instance, according to the National Universities Commission (NUC), some federal institutions have enrolment figures below 5,000, a paltry number when compared with their infrastructural potential. This inefficiency is not merely a result of proliferation but of inadequate strategic planning and insufficient capital injection.

The moratorium, though ostensibly pragmatic, seems reactionary and counterproductive. The Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) has embarked on over 16 strikes since 1999, each rooted in the government’s failure to honour financial commitments. Instead of resolving these contractual breaches, the authorities now prefer a sweeping ban which penalises prospective students. Such a posture appears both disingenuous and myopic.

Chronic underfunding has also produced alarming lecturer-student ratios. In some universities, a single lecturer shoulders over 400 students, undermining pedagogical integrity and academic rigour. Laboratories remain ill-equipped, libraries are antiquated, and hostels overcrowded. To deny new institutions in underserved regions on this basis is to mistake symptoms for causes.

The fulfilment of existing funding agreements is indispensable for sustainable reform. Without honouring these compacts, any moratorium becomes a cosmetic intervention. Nigerians are weary of rhetorical promises; they crave empirical results and tangible improvements. The government must therefore demonstrate fiscal discipline and administrative accountability in addressing these long-standing grievances.

While the argument for consolidation rather than proliferation is persuasive, an outright embargo for seven years is injudicious. Nigeria’s demography is youthful, with nearly 70 per cent under the age of 30. Each year, over 1.7 million candidates sit for the Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME), yet only about 600,000 secure admission. A moratorium, therefore, aggravates exclusion and fuels disillusionment.

Although Nigeria already boasts a significant number of higher institutions, geographic imbalances remain. Several states, particularly in the North-East and North-West, still lack adequate federal presence. Denying these regions new universities in the name of consolidation perpetuates educational inequity and widens socio-economic disparities.

Higher institutions should thus be established on the basis of meticulous need assessment, not political expediency. Where demand outstrips supply, expansion is inevitable. For example, the nation’s law schools are woefully inadequate, accommodating fewer than 6,000 students annually, despite tens of thousands graduating from faculties of law nationwide. This bottleneck delays the professional progression of aspiring lawyers.

If the moratorium inadvertently covers law schools, the consequences will be deleterious. Thousands of law graduates will remain in limbo, unable to be called to the Bar, thereby forestalling their professional careers. Such an outcome contradicts the principles of justice, fairness, and national productivity. Needs-based expansion, rather than wholesale prohibition, is the rational approach.

To guarantee quality, clear and transparent criteria must be articulated for new institutions. Accreditation, staffing, infrastructure, and sustainability must become the touchstones of expansion. Nigeria must shift from quantity-driven proliferation to quality-oriented growth. This requires rigorous evaluation mechanisms and non-negotiable standards.

Meanwhile, the unregulated proliferation of private universities also warrants scrutiny. Over 111 private universities exist, many of which operate below minimum academic standards. Driven largely by pecuniary motives, these institutions prioritise profit over pedagogy. Consequently, the marketisation of education erodes quality and exploits unsuspecting families.

Therefore, a dual policy is required: stringent criteria for public institutions and robust regulation of private ones. This balanced approach ensures that higher education remains both accessible and credible. The pursuit of profit should never eclipse the sanctity of learning. Public interest must remain paramount.

Going forward, Nigeria needs a roadmap anchored in prudence and accountability. Rather than an indiscriminate moratorium, the government should invest in rehabilitating existing universities while selectively establishing new ones where demonstrable needs exist. This pragmatic equilibrium would reconcile efficiency with inclusivity.

Ultimately, education is the bedrock of national development and the crucible of civic enlightenment. By imposing a blanket ban, the Federal Government risks undermining the intellectual capital of the nation. What is required is not a moratorium, but a renaissance—an education system that is adequately funded, strategically expanded, and globally competitive. Anything less would be an abdication of responsibility and a betrayal of posterity.

Editorial

Addressing Unruly Behaviours At The Airports

Published

4 days ago

August 18, 2025

The Tide

It began as a seemingly minor in- flight disagreement. Comfort Emmason, a passenger on an Ibom Air flight from Uyo to Lagos, reportedly failed to switch off her mobile phone when instructed by the cabin crew. What should have been a routine enforcement of safety regulations spiralled into a physical confrontation, sparking a national debate on the limits of airline authority and the rights of passengers.

The Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) wasted no time in condemning the treatment meted out to Emmason. In a strongly worded statement, the body described the incident as “a flagrant violation of her fundamental human rights” and called for a thorough investigation into the conduct of the airline staff. The NBA stressed that while passengers must adhere to safety rules, such compliance should never be extracted through intimidation, violence, or humiliation.

Following the altercation, Emmason found herself arraigned before a Magistrate’s Court and remanded at Kirikiri Maximum Security Prison, a location more commonly associated with hardened criminals than with errant passengers. In a surprising turn of events, the Federal Government later dropped all charges against her, citing “overriding public interest” and concerns about due process.

Compounding her woes, Ibom Air initially imposed a lifetime ban preventing her from boarding its aircraft. That ban has now been lifted, following mounting public pressure and calls from rights groups for a more measured approach. The reversal has been welcomed by many as a step towards restoring fairness and proportionality in handling such disputes.

While her refusal to comply with crew instructions was undeniably inappropriate, questions linger about whether the punishment fit the offence. Was the swift escalation from verbal reminder to physical ejection a proportionate response, or an abuse of authority? The incident has reignited debate over how airlines balance safety enforcement with respect for passenger rights.

The Tide unequivocally condemns the brutal and degrading treatment the young Nigerian woman received from the airline’s staff. No regulation, however vital, justifies the use of physical force or the public shaming of a passenger. Such behaviour is antithetical to the principles of customer service, human dignity, and the rule of law.

Emmason’s own defiance warrants reproach. Cabin crew instructions, especially during boarding or take-off preparations, are not mere suggestions; they are safety mandates. Reports suggest she may have been unable to comply because of a malfunctioning power button on her device, but even so, she could have communicated this clearly to the crew. Rules exist to safeguard everyone on board, and passengers must treat them with due seriousness.

Nigerians, whether flying domestically or abroad, would do well to internalise the importance of orderliness in public spaces. Adherence to instructions, patience in queues, and courteous engagement with officials are hallmarks of civilised society. Disregard for these norms not only undermines safety but also projects a damaging image of the nation to the wider world.

The Emmason affair is not an isolated case. Former Edo State Governor and current Senator, Adams Oshiomhole, once found himself grounded after arriving late for an Air Peace flight. Witnesses alleged that he assaulted airline staff and ordered the closure of the terminal’s main entrance. This is hardly the conduct expected of a statesman.

More recently, a Nollywood-worthy episode unfolded at Abuja’s Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, involving Fuji icon “King”, Wasiu Ayinde Marshal, popularly known as KWAM1. In a viral video, he was seen exchanging heated words with officials after being prevented from boarding an aircraft.

Events took a dangerous turn when the aircraft, moving at near take-off speed, nearly clipped the 68-year-old musician’s head with its wing. Such an occurrence points to a serious breach of airport safety protocols, raising uncomfortable questions about operational discipline at Nigeria’s gateways.

According to accounts circulating online, Wasiu had attempted to board an aircraft while he was carrying an alcoholic drink and refused to relinquish it when challenged. His refusal led to de-boarding, after which the Aviation Minister, Festus Keyamo, imposed a six-month “no-fly” ban, citing “unacceptable” conduct.

It is deeply concerning that individuals of such prominence, including Emmason’s pilot adversary, whose careers have exposed them to some of the most disciplined aviation environments in the world, should exhibit conduct that diminishes the nation’s reputation. True leadership, whether in politics, culture, or professional life, calls for restraint and decorum, all the more when exercised under public scrutiny.

Most egregiously, in Emmason’s case, reports that she was forcibly stripped in public and filmed for online circulation are deeply disturbing. This was an act of humiliation and a gross invasion of privacy, violating her right to dignity and falling short of the standards expected in modern aviation. No person, regardless of the circumstances, should be subjected to such degrading treatment.

Ibom Air must ensure its staff are trained to treat passengers with proper decorum at all times. If Emmason had broken the law, security personnel could have been called in to handle the matter lawfully. Instead, her ordeal turned into a public spectacle. Those responsible for assaulting her should face prosecution, and the airline should be compelled to compensate her. Emmason, for her part, should pursue legal redress to reinforce the principle that justice and civility must prevail in Nigeria’s skies.

Editorial

Restoring PH’s Garden City Status

Published

1 week ago

August 15, 2025

The Tide

Port Harcourt, once proudly known as the Garden City, was celebrated for its orderliness and pristine streets. The title was not a mere decorative phrase but a reflection of a time when cleanliness and environmental upkeep were hallmarks of life in the Rivers State capital. Residents and visitors alike took delight in the sight of well-kept roads, thriving greenery, and an atmosphere that spoke of civic responsibility and effective governance.

To preserve this reputation, the state government established the Rivers State Waste Management Agency, popularly called RIWAMA. It was formed from the then Rivers State Sanitation Authority, with the clear mandate to ensure that Port Harcourt and other parts of the state were kept free from refuse and environmental hazards. For many years, this agency was instrumental in sustaining the neatness that gave the city its enviable identity.

However, in recent times, RIWAMA appears not to be living up to its responsibilities. The once reassuring sight of refuse trucks making regular rounds has become increasingly rare. Instead, residents now encounter scenes of neglect, with piles of uncollected waste becoming a common feature across the city. This shift from efficiency to apparent abandonment is raising serious concerns among the public.

Today, heaps of refuse can be found in different parts of Rivers State, particularly in Port Harcourt. From residential neighbourhoods to busy commercial districts, the presence of littered rubbish has become all too familiar. These refuse heaps are not only unsightly but also emit foul odours, creating an unpleasant atmosphere for passers-by and residents.

The dangers posed by this situation go beyond aesthetics. Uncollected refuse provides breeding grounds for flies, rats, and other pests, thereby increasing the risk of disease outbreaks. In a densely populated city like Port Harcourt, the potential for an epidemic is real, and ignoring the issue could lead to a public health crisis. The wellbeing of residents is directly tied to how waste is managed, making the current situation deeply worrying.

Many residents are asking difficult questions. What has happened to the sanitation agency in recent times? Why has it seemingly abandoned its core duties? Is RIWAMA still actively in operation, or has it been crippled by poor funding? These questions demand answers, especially in light of the visible decline in waste management services.

Others wonder whether refuse disposal contractors are still being paid or whether bureaucratic bottlenecks have stalled operations. If funding is the problem, then it is a matter the state government must address urgently. If the issue is one of negligence, then accountability should be enforced. Whatever the case, the status quo cannot continue without risking grave consequences.

The situation is particularly dire in several parts of the city. Areas such as NTA Road, Elioparanwo, and Iwofe Roads are lined with refuse heaps that have remained for days, sometimes weeks. Similarly, the Egbelu/Ogbogoro axis and the Rumuodara stretch along the East–West Road, among others, are grappling with visible waste accumulation. These locations, being key routes for commuters, leave a poor impression on visitors and residents alike.

It is not just the roadside that suffers. Even median strips on affected roads are now blocked by refuse, an alarming sign that waste is being dumped indiscriminately. These once decorative and green sections of the road now serve as unsightly refuse points, undermining the beauty of the cityscape and endangering road safety.

The current rainy season only heightens the urgency of the matter. Rainwater washes refuse from these heaps into other areas, spreading filth and contamination. This water often finds its way into open drains and waterways, further compounding the health risks. The stench from such waste-laden runoffs also lingers in neighbourhoods, worsening the discomfort of residents.

Another grave consequence of this development is the blockage of drainage channels. Refuse swept into gutters and culverts by rainwater can cause severe clogging, which in turn leads to flooding. Port Harcourt is no stranger to flood-related disruptions, and poor waste management only worsens the problem.

It is clear that allowing this situation to persist will harm not only public health but also the city’s reputation. A Garden City cannot thrive amidst filth and neglect. Residents deserve better, and the environment must be safeguarded from further degradation.

The state government has a responsibility to act decisively. Whether by overhauling RIWAMA’s operations, boosting its funding, enforcing contractor accountability, or introducing more modern waste management strategies, urgent intervention is necessary. The health of the people and the integrity of the city depend on it.

Port Harcourt’s transformation from a clean, green city into one plagued by refuse heaps should serve as a wake-up call. With committed leadership, public cooperation, and a return to effective sanitation practices, the Garden City can reclaim its former glory. But this will only happen if decisive steps are taken now, before the piles of refuse turn from an eyesore into a catastrophe.

Editorial

2026 CBT for SSCE: How Feasible?

Published

3 weeks ago

August 4, 2025

The Tide

The Federal Government’s audacious ambition to fully switch to Computer-Based Testing (CBT) for the West African Senior School Certificate Examination (WASSCE) and National Examinations Council (NECO) examinations by 2026 is a tall order that deserves a thorough reality check.

In April, the Minister of Education, Dr Tunji Alausa, issued a directive instructing WAEC and NECO to fully implement CBT by the May/June 2026 examination cycle. The plan is to kick things off with objective papers in November, then expand to include both objective and essay components by 2026.

While the drive towards modernisation is, in itself, a welcome idea, the timeline seems overly ambitious, bordering on wishful thinking. Frankly, unless state and local governments roll up their sleeves and invest significantly in critical education infrastructure, this vision is unlikely to get off the ground. The burden lies squarely on the shoulders of all 36 state governors and the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory to ensure that senior secondary schools are equipped with fully functional computer labs powered by solar energy. No half measures.

Even more pressing is the dire need for digitally literate teachers and trained computer instructors. Currently, around 70 per cent of students lack even basic computer skills. The situation is far worse in rural areas, where the infrastructure is practically non-existent. As of 2018, a mere six per cent of public primary schools had computers, compared to 52 per cent of their private counterparts — a glaring digital divide that threatens to leave the most vulnerable pupils further behind.

If this is not urgently addressed, pupils in underserved communities may find themselves out in the cold, with their chances of fair assessment hanging by a thread. Nigeria’s literacy rate stood at 69 per cent in 2022, but that figure masks deep inequalities between urban and rural areas. The cracks in the country’s educational foundation are all too visible.

To many, this sweeping CBT mandate seems like yet another case of “all motion, no movement.” While CBT could, in theory, improve how public exams are conducted, the grim reality is that Nigeria’s schools are simply not equipped to make it work. As of 2019, more than seven million students were enrolled in both public and private junior secondary schools, with over 13,000 public schools serving five million students — yet the quality of infrastructure varies wildly.

It is high time the government got its house in order. Improving learning conditions must take precedence before WAEC and NECO can reasonably shift to CBT. This is not the time for grandstanding or political showboating. To avoid another policy disaster, the necessary groundwork must be laid properly and promptly.

Public education in Nigeria has long been in the doldrums, plagued by policy flip-flops and years of neglect. Many secondary schools still lack basic classrooms, with students forced to learn under trees or in crumbling structures with next to no facilities. Jumping headfirst into digital exams without fixing these core issues is like putting the cart before the horse.

Even JAMB, which moved to CBT over a decade ago, still leans heavily on privately-owned computer centres to conduct the Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME). That reliance has led to a litany of technical hiccups and logistical nightmares for candidates year after year. This year’s outing was particularly shambolic. It is a stark reminder that poor planning leads to poor outcomes.

The hard truth is that, under current conditions, a full transition to CBT for WAEC and NECO is more likely to stir up a hornet’s nest than solve existing problems. The chaos surrounding the delayed English language paper in the last WASSCE is a case in point. Some are even calling for its cancellation. The government’s insistence on pushing ahead with this plan raises questions about whether students’ best interests are truly being served or whether something else is afoot.

To see real progress, governments at all levels must put their money where their mouth is by injecting serious funding into public education and making it both accessible and affordable for every child. Nigeria’s goal of reaching 95 per cent digital literacy by 2030 only adds urgency to this call. Without adequate infrastructure, that goal will remain a pipe dream.

Equally important is the need to democratise decision-making in the education sector. This means actively involving students, parents, teachers, and their unions, not simply handing down directives from on high.

At the end of the day, the 2026 CBT rollout appears to ignore the elephant in the room: the woeful state of Nigeria’s public education system. Without massive investment in infrastructure, robust teacher training, and real commitment from the powers that be, the CBT dream may end up as yet another white elephant, a flashy policy that fails to make any lasting difference to the lives of Nigeria’s students.