BY BABAFEMI OJUDU
“Something is wrong with us. In my town, Ado-Ekiti, you beg artisans—welders, bricklayers, carpenters, electricians—to work for you. And people still claim there are no opportunities.”
That was a short message I posted on my Facebook page a few days ago. What I didn’t add is that when these artisans eventually show up, the quality of their work is often poor.
Building a modest bungalow in Ado-Ekiti in 2003 was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. I had to redo the roofing, electrical wiring, and ceiling—twice—all due to shoddy workmanship, low-quality materials, and a lack of attention to detail. No one should have to go through that ordeal even once, let alone twice. Only God knows how many homes have gone up in flames or collapsed due to this kind of negligence.
Initially, I assumed this was a local issue—until a flood of comments from across the country revealed otherwise. Clearly, this is a national crisis.
And it’s rooted in our misguided approach to education.
For years, Nigeria has been obsessed with establishing more universities. Federal, state, and private institutions continue to spring up like mushrooms. Every new administration seems eager to plant a university as a political trophy, as though that alone defines good governance. But with rising unemployment and economic stagnation, we must pause and ask: do we really need more universities, or is it time to rethink the kind of education Nigeria truly needs?
The truth is, we are producing far more university graduates than the job market can absorb. Thousands graduate each year with degrees that offer little practical value in a struggling economy. Meanwhile, there is a glaring and growing shortage of skilled technicians—electricians, plumbers, mechanics, welders, machine operators, software developers, and other hands-on professionals.
Even worse, our society has created a false hierarchy—one that places university education far above technical education. This elitist mindset has discouraged generations of young Nigerians from acquiring the practical skills that could earn them a living or even launch them into entrepreneurship. We have idolized white-collar degrees and neglected the blue-collar skills that keep nations running.
Why do we continue churning out graduates in banking, finance, and business administration when there are so few jobs waiting for them?
What Nigeria urgently needs is a revolution in technical education. We need private individuals, religious institutions, corporate bodies, and state governments to invest meaningfully in high-quality technical schools and vocational training centers. These should be places where young Nigerians can learn 21st-century skills in areas like solar energy, robotics, smart agriculture, industrial automation, digital fabrication, and coding—alongside reimagined traditional vocations like carpentry, tailoring, and auto mechanics.
A graduate of a technical school who can install solar panels or maintain industrial machinery may have better job prospects—and earn more—than a university graduate with a second-class degree in an oversaturated field. More importantly, a tech-savvy youth can become a job creator rather than a job seeker. That’s the kind of shift Nigeria desperately needs.
Countries like Germany, South Korea, and China have transformed their economies by investing heavily in technical and vocational education. They understand that progress depends not just on thinkers, but on doers.
A few years ago, I visited construction sites in Australia and was amazed by the confidence and competence of the young workers. Likewise, a two-week visit to a farm in Israel opened my eyes to what’s possible. There, five young farmers—average age, 29—manage 800 acres of tomatoes and watermelon. Using drip irrigation and year-round cultivation, they gross nearly $10 million annually, serving both local and export markets. That is the kind of workforce we need to be building.
Nigeria must follow suit. We need to recalibrate our national priorities. Our education policy must embrace a more balanced model—one that recognizes the dignity, value, and necessity of technical expertise. This includes revamping curriculum standards, incentivizing private investment in technical education, and launching a nationwide campaign to end the stigma around vocational learning.
Let’s stop producing university graduates only to watch them join the endless queues of the unemployed. Let’s equip our young people with the tools they need to build, repair, innovate, and transform their world.
Nigeria doesn’t need more universities. It needs more techies.
