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“Eze Goes to School” No More: Why Nigeria’s Students Now Wander African Streets

Introduction

In the early 1980s, Nigeria’s children encountered a small but powerful book in their secondary school curriculum: Eze Goes to School, written by Onuora Nzekwu and Michael Crowder. It was more than a story; it was a mirror of a nation’s aspirations. Education was a treasure: rare, dignified, and transformative. To be a student was to be a prince or princess in your own right. Teachers commanded respect. Boarding schools felt like foreign missions. Every child yearned to move from primary to secondary school, and then to the university. Education was the ladder out of poverty, the passport to dignity, and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Today, that ladder is broken. The promise has been betrayed. And the shame is not hidden; it is exported.

Eze’s World: Hope, Hunger, and Honour

To say the least, the authors of Eze goes to School presented Eze’s worldview. Eze Adi is a brilliant, curious boy from a poor rural family. His parents, though struggling farmers, believe deeply in education. Eze walks long distances to school, often barefoot, often hungry. He faces poverty, bullying, and a corrupt, inefficient school system. Yet he remains determined, honest, and hopeful. Education is his dream, his pride, and his path to a better life.

Eze’s struggles were real, but they were dignified. His suffering had meaning because the society around him believed in the value of education. Teachers encouraged him. His community respected learning. His father sacrificed for him. The school system, though imperfect, still held the promise of upward mobility. Eze’s world was hard, but hopeful.

Nigeria Today: A Landscape of Shame and Embarrassment

Fast‑forward to the present. Nigeria, once the beacon of education in West Africa, now exports its shame across the continent. The same country that once attracted students from Ghana, Sierra Leone, Kenya, and beyond now sends its own children to other African countries, often without adequate funding, planning, or dignity.

The Realities of Today’s State‑Funded Scholarships

  • Students are sent to African countries with little or no remittance to sustain them.
  • Some are expelled because the federal government or their home state stops paying tuition.
  • Some become homeless when landlords evict them for unpaid rent.
  • Others wander capital cities: stateless, stranded, and humiliated.
  • Many are unable to return home because they cannot afford transport.
  • Their governments ignore their cries, deny responsibility, or blame “bureaucratic delays.”

This is not just mismanagement. It is national disgrace.

From Eze’s Pride to Today’s Pain

Below is a structured comparison of how Eze felt about school versus how many Nigeria’s children feel today.

Theme

Eze’s Experience (1980s Nigeria)

Nigeria’s Students Today

Value of Education

Education seen as salvation; a noble pursuit

Education seen as uncertain, unstable, and often pointless due to unemployment and strikes

Support System

Parents, teachers, and community encourage learning

Students face neglect, underfunded schools, and indifferent leadership

School Environment

Challenging but inspiring; teachers respected

Fraught with strikes, dilapidated buildings, and demoralized lecturers

Government Role

Minimal but not destructive

Actively undermines education through corruption, underfunding, and failed scholarships

Emotional Landscape

Hope, determination, pride

Anxiety, frustration, shame, and disillusionment

Outcome

Eze rises through hardship to succeed

Many students drop out, flee abroad, or remain stranded in foreign countries

What Students of the 80s Say Today!

The conscientious students of the 80s do not recognise the Nigeria they once dreamed in.

They ask:

  • Why must a Nigeria’s child go to Benin Republic, Morocco or Togo to study basic courses?
  • Why must a student beg for remittances from a government that promised a scholarship?
  • Why must a child sleep under a bridge in a foreign land because their state governor or the federal government stopped paying rent?
  • Why must the “Giant of Africa” outsource its education to smaller nations?

Eze, who once walked barefoot to school with pride, is now walking with shame: not because of poverty, but because of leadership failure.

The Giant of Africa? Or the Giant of Excuses?

Nigeria still calls itself the “Giant of Africa,” yet:

  • Ghanaian universities are filled with Nigeria’s students.
  • Benin Republic thrives on Nigeria’s tuition fees.
  • Ugandan and Kenyan institutions host stranded Nigeria’s scholars.
  • South African universities reject Nigeria’s applicants due to unpaid fees from state governments.
  • Moroccan landlords evict Nigeria’s students from their properties.

This is not giant behaviour. This is national embarrassment.

Conclusion

Eze Goes to School was a story of hope. Today’s Nigeria’s educational reality is a story of humiliation. The contrast is painful, but necessary. Eze’s generation believed in education because the system, though imperfect, believed in them. Today’s generation is abandoned: sent abroad without support, stranded without dignity, and forgotten without remorse.

If Nigeria wishes to reclaim its pride, it must rebuild its educational system from the ground up; fund it, respect it, and protect it. Until then, the nation will continue exporting not excellence, but embarrassment.


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