UNN: A Call to Restore Our Heritage

For me, it was the Margaret Ekpo Refectory. My heart sank. I felt the grief of a son standing before his father's broken house, feeling the shame of not being able to protect what was his.

Named after the passionate women’s rights activist and politician, this grand building with its tall arches and spacious dining hall stood as a symbol for many students at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. In this place, students did more than just eat.

The refectory used to be a hub of ideas where politics met philosophy, and literature mixed with ideology. It was where friendships formed, movements started, and dreams grew. Future professors and politicians debated here; union leaders prepared to become the voice of the nation. The spirit of Nigeria could almost be felt there. It was truly a university.

So, you can imagine my shock when I saw videos from student hostels, especially the famous Eni Njoku Hostel. The videos showed overflowing toilets, broken plumbing, crumbling ceilings, dirty bathrooms, and students living in sewage. One report called the conditions “repulsive,” saying students had to cook outside in filthy surroundings. How far we have fallen.

Sadly, the problems go beyond just the buildings. The UNN’s Quality Assurance Strategic Plan shows an even worse situation. It points out that declining academic standards are a major threat, mentioning weak graduate programs, lack of staff, unstable academic calendars, poor teaching conditions, limited staff training, weak research support, and poor digital readiness. With brain drain, poor administration, and a slow loss of prestige, it seems UNN’s issues are not just about buildings; they are deeper.

As a Nsukka local who grew up near the university, I could not hold back my tears seeing those videos. The University of Nigeria has always meant more than just a school. Founded by Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe with the inspiring motto, “To Restore the Dignity of Man,” it played a key part in rebuilding the dignity of our people.

After the Nigerian Civil War, few places helped heal and rebuild the Igbo nation like the University of Nigeria. While Enugu Rangers gave us back our sporting pride, UNN restored our intellectual confidence and shaped how we saw the world after the war.

For a people politically sidelined after the war, having an institution like the University of Nigeria meant a lot. But UNN was never just a symbol. It brought in some of the best scholars from Nigeria and beyond. It was a top university. It was once home to the legendary Chinua Achebe and the famous Chimamanda Adichie spent her early years there. It stood for excellence. Getting into Nsukka was a big deal.

Like many young people of my age, it was UNN or nothing.

I took JAMB exams more than once because I wanted to be a Lion. Even though I eventually got admitted, it was not for my first choice, so I had to go somewhere else. Yet every time I heard a graduate proudly shout, “Lion!” or “Lioness!”, it reminded me of a dream I could not fulfill. Maybe that is why this decline feels so personal.

In my opinion, we all failed UNN. Yes, past federal governments are largely to blame for years of underfunding. But that reason alone is not enough. We must also look at our own mistakes.

Vice Chancellors, Governing Councils, Pro-Chancellors, politically connected contractors, students, alumni, and the wider university community all share some blame. Too many people have treated UNN like an inheritance to exploit instead of a legacy to protect. Many want to take, but few want to nurture.

Ironically, the university itself knows this truth. UNN’s problems are not just due to lack of funds; they also result from poor governance, bad resource management, lack of accountability, and ineffective leadership. To their credit, UNN’s alumni have helped keep the university going over the years. That should be acknowledged. But they can do much more.

UNN’s alumni network is one of the strongest in Africa. It includes respected scholars, celebrated writers, successful businesspeople, distinguished judges, skilled doctors, influential politicians, and wealthy entrepreneurs. Few African universities can boast such talented individuals. If they come together, they could change UNN for the better.

The first step should be to protect the integrity of its leadership. The position of Vice-Chancellor must never again be a reward for political favor or internal connections. The future of the school relies on appointing leaders who care about education and not just personal gain. But this issue goes beyond Nsukka.

As Igbos, we justly protest the many wrongs done to us by the Nigerian government. But we also need to ask ourselves a tough question: how well have we managed the institutions we control? Reflecting on ourselves does not mean hating ourselves.

Years ago, my brother-in-law, who had advanced prostate cancer, needed radiotherapy. Even though he lived in Enugu and could go to the University of Nigeria Teaching Hospital (UNTH), he ended up getting treatment at Lagos University Teaching Hospital (LUTH) where they had the right expertise. It was not that UNTH lacked the needed equipment. It was a matter of the culture of the institution.

After experiencing care at both hospitals, he often spoke about the professionalism, organization, and quality of care he received at LUTH compared to UNTH. Same country. Same federal hospital system. But the patient experience was completely different.

Another story I heard from a colleague at UNTH was about funding approved for an apheresis machine, which could save many lives. But the purchase fell through because a powerful South-East politician who claimed credit for the approval wanted a large kickback before the equipment could be bought. Faced with the choice of paying the bribe or losing the project, the hospital lost the machine and the region lost a critical medical resource.

These stories show a deeper issue. We can be great as individuals but often fail as caretakers of shared institutions. We build beautiful private homes while our public institutions fall apart. We celebrate personal success but ignore our shared heritage. This contradiction needs serious reflection, and I often wonder, where are the elders in this discussion?

Fortunately, there are reasons for cautious hope. The current Vice-Chancellor, Professor Simon Ortuanya, seems to understand the scale of the problems and the need for change. His administration has started fixing internal roads, reopening unused facilities, planning major hostel renovations, and expanding student accommodation. More importantly, the university recently gave the go-ahead for a TETFund-sponsored Research Laboratory and Demonstration Farm to Afri-Fruits Limited.

Unlike the politically motivated projects that clutter our landscape, this initiative could greatly improve agricultural research, innovation, and food security in the South-East and beyond. Given Nsukka’s rich farmland and agricultural history, the university could become a center of excellence in agricultural science again. We need more projects like this.

The University of Nigeria is still one of Africa’s great institutions. Its decline was not inevitable and can be reversed.

But fixing its buildings, reviving its academic spirit, improving governance, and restoring its reputation will need more than just government funds. It will require honesty, sacrifice, accountability, and a shared sense of ownership.

Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe established UNN to restore the dignity of man. Perhaps our challenge today is to restore the dignity of the institution itself.