By Olugbenga Oyeniran
As Nigeria’s public universities continue to battle underfunding, dilapidated infrastructure, and
recurring strikes, it’s worth revisiting a headline from just two years ago: Aare Afe Babalola, Nigerian legal titan and education advocate, donated £10 million to King’s College London. The generous endowment established the Afe Babalola African Centre for Transnational Education—a digital hub designed to empower African students.
The initiative is visionary. The impact will likely be significant. And yet, it brings back a long-standing concern: why do some of Nigeria’s most transformative educational investments land abroad, while public universities at home still struggle to stay afloat?
To be clear, Afe Babalola has been one of Nigeria’s most consistent supporters of education. He established Afe Babalola University (ABUAD), arguably one of the most innovative private universities in the country. His efforts in philanthropy include funding an auditorium and hostels at the University of Lagos, building a nuclear medicine facility at UCH Ibadan, and contributing to the growth of the Federal Polytechnic, Ado-Ekiti. So this is not an attack on the gesture itself, nor on the legacy of the man behind it.
But the King’s College donation—and others like it—raises an uncomfortable question: When
will Nigerian public universities benefit from endowments of this magnitude?
Alhaji Aliko Dangote, Africa’s richest man, has also shown a solid commitment to local education. His most notable contribution includes a 10-block hostel complex at Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, which now houses over 2,000 students. His philanthropic arm, the Dangote Foundation, has supported basic education initiatives and school infrastructure through partnerships with SUBEB across states like Lagos. His impact on education is significant—but again, his larger-scale branding efforts tend to be more visible on international platforms.
Similarly, Tony Elumelu, through the Tony Elumelu Foundation, has pledged $100 million to support 10,000 African entrepreneurs in ten years, blending education with enterprise. Domestically, he donated a state-of-the-art multipurpose IT centre to Ambrose Alli University (AAU), his alma mater, through the UBA Foundation. These efforts prove that his philanthropy isn’t abstract—it’s deeply rooted in Nigeria’s growth. Also, General T.Y. Danjuma and Senator Daisy Danjuma have committed substantial resources through the TY Danjuma Foundation, which supports healthcare, education, and poverty alleviation across Taraba, Edo, and other Nigerian states. Their focus on grassroots impact reflects a deep commitment to Nigeria’s development and shows that sustained local philanthropy is both possible and impactful.
These individuals are not absent from Nigeria’s education sector. Far from it—they have built, donated, and transformed institutions. But here lies the heart of the issue: when large-scale endowments—like the £10 million to King’s College—go to institutions already thriving, one must ask: why not place similar bets on Nigeria’s struggling public universities?
A donation of that magnitude to a Nigerian federal university could revolutionize a department, establish a research institute, or rebuild failing infrastructure. Our public institutions—like the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, the University of Ibadan, and Ahmadu Bello University—remain crippled by lack of funding. Students suffer; lecturers seek opportunities abroad. The institutions that once produced Nigeria’s brightest are now caught in cycles of neglect.
This is not to discourage international philanthropy. Global partnerships are valuable, and educational diplomacy has its place. But a true legacy also requires local transformation. What we need is balance—a strategic commitment to both global vision and domestic responsibility.
Nigeria’s philanthropic elite must begin to view investment in local public universities not as
charity, but as a vital piece of national development.
It is my conviction that our universities are not beyond saving. What they need is consistent,
high-impact support that restores them to global competitiveness. We must reimagine public education not as a lost cause but as a mission field for nation-building. Imagine a scenario where UNILAG launches a Centre for African Innovation funded by private endowment, or ABU houses a West African Digital Research Hub named after its benefactor.
These names—Babalola, Dangote, Elumelu, Danjuma—have already shaped Nigeria’s history.
But they can also shape its future—by ensuring their most transformative contributions take root on Nigerian soil, where they are most needed. Education is power. Let’s ensure that power begins at home.
