As President Bola Ahmed Tinubu navigates the turbulent waters of his first term, the political landscape is already buzzing about a potential second tenure. From opposition politicians to civil society groups, voices of rejection have emerged from various quarters, questioning his policies, economic reforms, and governance style. Yet, amid this chorus of dissent, a surprising demographic has remained conspicuously supportive: the nation’s students. Observers and education professionals have traced this unexpected allegiance to what they describe as the president’s most tangible legacy—his administration’s interventions in the educational sector.
For decades, the Academic Staff Union of Universities, ASUU, has been both a watchdog and a wrench in the gears of Nigeria’s public university system. Prolonged strikes, often lasting months, became a grim ritual, leaving students stranded at home, academic calendars in shambles, and dreams deferred. Parents watched helplessly as their children spent four years pursuing what should have been a three-year degree. The emotional and financial toll was immeasurable. But since Tinubu assumed office, students across the country report a noticeable shift: relative stability in the public university system.
Today, in campuses from Ibadan to Maiduguri, students speak of being able to plan their lives. Coursework follows a predictable rhythm. Examinations come when expected. Graduation dates are no longer a moving target. For many young Nigerians who have known only the chaos of interrupted sessions, this calm is nothing short of revolutionary. It is not that all industrial actions have vanished, but the prolonged, nationwide shutdowns that once defined Nigerian tertiary education have become rare. The difference, as one final-year student at the University of Lagos put it, is “visible enough to feel in your bones.”
But the administration’s appeal to students runs deeper than strike-free calendars. Perhaps the most celebrated intervention has been the introduction of the Nigerian Education Loan Fund, known as NELFUND. For countless students from low-income households, the prospect of tertiary education had become a luxury. Fees, even at public institutions, soared beyond the reach of many families. The student loan scheme, though still in its early stages, has offered a lifeline.
Applications have poured in from every state, and successful beneficiaries describe the relief of knowing that their academic journey need not end for lack of fees. While concerns about repayment frameworks and accessibility remain, the scheme has undeniably shifted the narrative from despair to possibility.
Tinubu’s critics often point to the broader economic hardship under his watch—rising inflation, fuel subsidy removal, and currency volatility. But within the educational bubble, the administration has pointed to increased budgetary allocations to the sector, even if advocates argue that much more is needed.
There have also been ongoing engagements with university unions, including ASUU, aimed at addressing long-standing grievances before they escalate into full-blown strikes. While not every negotiation has yielded a perfect outcome, the mere existence of consistent dialogue marks a departure from the standoffs that characterised previous administrations.
Of course, no system is perfect, and challenges remain. Many universities still grapple with dilapidated infrastructure, underpaid lecturers, and a lack of research funding. The student loan scheme has faced implementation hitches, including delays in disbursement and technical glitches on its portal. Some unions have also accused the government of foot-dragging on renegotiating conditions of service. Yet, for a generation of students who have known only decay and disruption, the current trajectory feels different. It feels like progress.
This is not to say that every student in Nigeria supports President Tinubu’s return. Political awareness varies, and many young people remain critical of his overall economic policies. But among those directly benefiting from the relative peace in universities and the promise of financial aid, a quiet but significant backing has emerged. It is a support born not of blind loyalty, but of lived experience—the experience of finally being able to see a degree through to the end.
As the political season heats up, Tinubu’s campaign strategists would be wise to amplify these educational wins. For the president, the student vote may not be loud or militant, but it is growing. And in a democracy where every ballot counts, the quiet gratitude of young scholars might just prove to be one of his most resilient pillars of support.
Anastasia Enemali
An online Editor, OBSERVERS TIMES
