By Sonnie Ekwowusi
There is no limit to the number of strange happenings in this our *obodo* Nigeria. Just when you think you have heard it all, more bizarre developments keep pouring in, to your complete bamboozlement. Just as history was once scrapped from our secondary school curriculum, the Federal Government now plans to scrap social science courses — or what it has dubbed “irrelevant” courses — from Nigeria’s universities.
This is crude. I do not want to call it idiotic, but it is certainly delusional. It is not reform. It is a short-sighted intervention that betrays a profound misunderstanding of what a university is — and what a nation needs to survive. It is a bad carpenter who quarrels with his tools. At the centre of this policy is the Education Minister, Tunji Alausa, who argues that disciplines—particularly in the social sciences—that do not guarantee immediate employment should be scrapped. It is an argument that sounds pragmatic, even sensible, until one examines its implications.
For what is being proposed is not curriculum reform, but intellectual amputation. Speaking at the “Renewed Hope Conversation” at the University of Abuja, the Minister of Education, Tunji Alausa, declared that courses offered in Nigerian universities deemed disconnected from market realities—particularly in the social sciences—would be scrapped. His argument is blunt: universities must produce graduates who are immediately employable, and disciplines that do not guarantee jobs have no place in the system.
Unsurprisingly, stakeholders in the university system and across the education sector—including the Congress of University Academics (CONUA), the Non-Academic Staff Union of Educational and Associated Institutions (NASU), and the National Parent Teacher Association of Nigeria (NAPTA)—have berated the Federal Government, warning that the policy could do more harm than good.
Their concerns are neither sentimental nor self-serving; they are grounded in a clear understanding of how universities function and what societies require to thrive. Admittedly, many Nigerian graduates are not employable because they lack the requisite skills demanded by industry. Employers are looking for skills, not just certificates. Our conception of the university is deeply flawed. Many institutions are busy churning out certificate-bearing graduates and little else. There is, therefore, cause for concern.
If countries such as Italy, South Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, and the Philippines have invested in technical and vocational education that equips students with practical skills—and are now reaping the benefits—what stops Nigeria from following suit? However, it is difficult to see how these structural deficiencies—which have crippled the university system for decades—can be resolved by scrapping social science courses or other so-called “irrelevant” disciplines. The problem is not that such courses exist; it is that universities are underfunded, curricula are outdated, and industry linkages are weak.
Scrapping courses without addressing these underlying issues is akin to treating symptoms while ignoring the disease. By targeting the social sciences for elimination, the government risks hollowing out disciplines essential for governance, policymaking, conflict resolution, and national development. No serious economy thrives without economists, political analysts, sociologists, and public administrators. The irony is stark: the same government that relies on policy experts appears ready to dismantle the academic foundations that produce them.
The problem with Nigerian universities is not that they teach social science courses. The problem is that they teach them poorly, in underfunded institutions, with outdated curricula, weak industry linkages, and demoralised staff. To respond by abolishing disciplines is to confuse failure of execution with failure of purpose. No serious country builds its future by narrowing its intellectual base. Economists shape fiscal policy. Political scientists interrogate governance. Sociologists decode social tensions.
Strip these away, and what remains is a state that cannot understand itself, let alone reform itself. It bears repeating: Nigeria’s education crisis is not the product of “irrelevant” courses. It is the consequence of chronic underfunding, decaying infrastructure, outdated curricula, and weak linkages between academia and industry. Scrapping disciplines will not fix these systemic failures; it will merely mask them. The claim that social science graduates will have no place in the future economy is equally unconvincing. The global labour market increasingly rewards skills such as critical thinking, communication, adaptability, and problem-solving—competencies deeply rooted in the disciplines now under threat.
Far from being obsolete, the social sciences are indispensable in a world grappling with complex challenges. The ongoing strike by NASU, SSANU, and others further complicates matters. Industrial harmony is a precondition for meaningful reform. Attempting sweeping policy changes in the midst of labour unrest risks deepening mistrust between government and university stakeholders. Reform imposed without consensus is unlikely to endure. The ongoing strike reflects unresolved grievances over pay, conditions, and broken agreements. Infrastructure is collapsing.
Morale is low. Funding is inadequate. In such a context, talk of scrapping courses is not reform—it is a distraction. There is also a dangerous precedent embedded in this policy. Decisions about academic programmes are not the business of ministerial fiat. They belong to universities—their senates, their councils, and their regulatory frameworks. Once government begins to dictate what can and cannot be studied, academic freedom becomes a casualty, and universities become extensions of political authority. And then there is the flawed economic logic.
The assumption that social science graduates are inherently unemployable belongs to a bygone era. Modern economies prize precisely the skills these disciplines cultivate: critical thinking, communication, adaptability, and analysis. In a world defined by complexity, these are not luxuries—they are necessities. The real scandal is not the existence of “irrelevant” courses. It is the chronic underfunding of education, the decay of infrastructure, the persistence of obsolete curricula, and the failure to connect learning with industry. These are the issues that demand urgent attention. Scrapping disciplines will not solve them; it will merely conceal them.
If Nigeria truly seeks education reform, the path is clear: fund universities properly, modernise curricula, invest in technical and vocational education without destroying intellectual diversity, and build strong partnerships between academia and industry. Above all, respect the autonomy of universities. What Nigeria requires is not a purge of “irrelevant” courses but a comprehensive overhaul of its higher education system: adequate funding, curriculum reform, stronger industry collaboration, and respect for university autonomy. Anything less amounts to policy theatrics. A nation that diminishes its universities diminishes itself.
The choice before Nigeria is not between “relevant” and “irrelevant” courses. It is between seriousness and folly—between building a knowledge economy and dismantling it in the name of expediency.
