In Nigeria’s educational landscape, the phrase “Ó kàwé mẹ́wàá” — meaning “one who has read ten books” — once symbolized the completion of secondary education. Rooted in Nigeria’s pre-independence era, this colloquialism evokes nostalgia for a time when education was seen as a transformative rite of passage, not merely a path to certification.
The Origins of “Ten Books”
The metaphor likely emerged from colonial-era schooling, where subjects such as arithmetic, English, geography, and history formed a core curriculum. Completing these subjects became shorthand for educational achievement. Yet, beneath this simplicity lay a deeper truth — education had begun to drift from its indigenous roots.
Pre-colonial Nigerian societies embraced functional education, where learning was embedded in daily life. In Yorubaland, bronze-casting apprentices in Ile-Ife mastered both artistry and its spiritual significance. Igbo-Ukwu blacksmiths refined metallurgy through practical training rather than theoretical instruction. These traditional models prioritized skill over certification — a stark contrast to the colonial classroom’s focus on producing clerks and interpreters to serve colonial interests.
The Rise and Fall of Technical Education
By the 1970s, Nigerian education increasingly prioritized paper qualifications over practical skills. The 1982 introduction of the 6-3-3 system was intended to change this, offering technical education as an alternative pathway. However, societal attitudes undermined its success. Technical schools were often seen as institutions for students who had “failed” academically.
A 2019 study by the Nigerian Educational Research Institute found that 78% of parents preferred university degrees for their children, reinforcing the stigma against vocational training. Compounding this was poor funding; by 2022, technical colleges like Government Technical College, Ikorodu, relied on outdated equipment and lacked functional power supplies for practical training. Consequently, polytechnics produced graduates strong in theory but lacking practical skills. A 2020 survey by the Manufacturers Association of Nigeria (MAN) revealed that only 14% of technical graduates met industry standards.
Specialised Universities and the Drift from Purpose
The creation of specialised universities, such as the Federal University of Agriculture in Makurdi and the Federal University of Technology in Akure, was meant to align education with national development goals. Yet, financial pressures led these institutions to expand their offerings, adding popular courses like business administration and mass communication. This shift diluted their original purpose, contributing to Nigeria’s overproduction of white-collar graduates.
For instance, the Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta (FUNAAB), established to drive agricultural innovation, now has more students enrolled in Management Sciences than Crop Production. Meanwhile, Nigeria spends $1.5 billion annually importing rice — a stark reminder of the gap between education and industry needs.
Similarly, the University of Port Harcourt’s Institute of Petroleum Studies, designed to train engineers for Nigeria’s oil sector, now offers MBAs in “Petroleum Management.” Despite this, the Nigerian Content Development and Monitoring Board reports that expatriates still fill 65% of technical roles in the industry.
The Functional Education Void
The Nigerian obsession with certification has marginalized indigenous educational systems that once thrived. The Igbo apprenticeship model (Igba Boy) produced entrepreneurs who built West Africa’s largest trading networks. In Kano, traditional leatherworkers sustained regional economies for centuries. Yet, Western-style education — rooted in memorization rather than skill development — became the dominant model.
A poignant reminder of this shift came during a College of Education lecture, where a professor asked: “If all certificates vanished tomorrow, what skills would our graduates possess?” The room’s silence underscored the crisis in functional education.
Reviving Indigenous Models: The Igba Boy Success Story
Despite its informal structure, the Igba Boy system thrives in commercial hubs like Onitsha. Apprentices train under mentors for several years before receiving seed capital to launch businesses. A 2021 UNDP report revealed that 60% of Onitsha’s millionaire traders emerged from this system — a stark contrast to Nigeria’s formal job market, where 54% of university graduates under 25 remain unemployed (NBS, 2023).
The Uncertain Future of the 12-4 Policy
The recently introduced 12-4 policy, mandating twelve years of basic education followed by four years of tertiary education, aims to expand access to education. However, critics warn that merging academic and vocational tracks risks producing graduates with limited practical skills.
In Lagos State, a 2023 pilot program integrated general subjects like Civic Education and Computer Science into technical school curricula. As a result, students reported spending 80% of their time in classrooms rather than workshops. “We learn about engines in class but never touch one,” lamented a student at Igbobi College.
Conclusion
The nostalgia of “ten books” reflects more than a lost era — it highlights a continuing struggle to balance theoretical knowledge with practical skills. While Nigeria’s education system expanded to increase access, its drift from functionality threatens to leave students ill-equipped for real-world challenges. The revival of indigenous learning models, alongside meaningful investment in technical education, may hold the key to unlocking Nigeria’s economic potential.