When Bureaucracy Forgets Its Purpose: Why the NYSC Should Stop Policing Women’s Names
By Jerry Adesewo
There are moments when government institutions become so consumed by procedure that they lose sight of purpose. They become preoccupied with enforcing rules that neither improve governance nor solve any real national problem. The latest controversy surrounding the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) appears to be one of those moments.
The petition by human rights lawyer Faisal Manir, challenging the NYSC’s requirement that married female prospective corps members adopt their husbands’ surnames, deserves serious national attention—not merely because of the legal arguments it raises, but because it exposes a troubling culture of misplaced priorities within public institutions.
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According to the petition, the NYSC registration portal compels married women who wish to retain their maiden names to accept their husbands’ names before their registration can be completed. The lawyer argues that the practice violates Sections 37, 38(1), and 42 of the 1999 Constitution, which guarantee the rights to privacy, freedom of conscience and religion, and freedom from discrimination. He has, therefore, called on the Director-General of the NYSC to immediately suspend the policy or face legal action.
Whether the courts eventually agree with every constitutional argument is a matter for judicial interpretation. But even before we arrive at that stage, one simple question deserves to be asked.
Why is this the hill the NYSC has chosen to die on?
The NYSC was established in 1973 to promote national unity, integration, and service. Its core responsibilities include mobilising graduates, deploying them across the country, promoting cultural exchange, and supporting national development.
Nowhere among those objectives is the policing of a married woman’s surname.
Over the years, the scheme has grappled with challenges that genuinely deserve urgent institutional attention. Corps members have repeatedly raised concerns about insecurity in places of primary assignment. We have witnessed tragic cases of young Nigerians dying during service, serving in unsafe communities, or struggling with poor accommodation and inadequate welfare. Employers often fail to provide basic support, while the scheme itself continues to confront logistical and administrative challenges.
These are matters that directly affect the welfare, safety, and dignity of corps members. Against that backdrop, insisting on what surname a married woman should bear appears not only unnecessary but profoundly disconnected from the realities confronting the scheme.
As someone who believes institutions exist to make life easier for citizens—not more difficult—I find the policy difficult to justify. A woman’s surname is, first and foremost, part of her legal identity.
Some women choose to adopt their husbands’ names after marriage. Others retain their maiden names for professional, cultural, personal, or religious reasons. Both choices exist in Nigerian society, and neither diminishes the validity of a marriage.
Indeed, many female academics, judges, journalists, lawyers, diplomats, and public servants continue to bear the names under which they built their professional reputations long before marriage.
Should government be compelling them otherwise?
The petition raises an additional dimension that cannot simply be ignored. For many Muslim women, retaining their father’s name is not merely a personal preference but a matter of religious conviction rooted in their understanding of Islamic teachings on lineage. If that is indeed the basis of their choice, then compelling them to abandon it raises legitimate questions about freedom of religion and conscience.
Ironically, the NYSC itself has, over the years, demonstrated flexibility in accommodating religious diversity in other areas—from dress codes to worship and dietary considerations. It would therefore seem inconsistent to insist on uniformity where identity and religious belief intersect.
This is not an argument against marriage. Nor is it an attempt to discourage women who willingly adopt their husbands’ surnames. Choice is the operative word. Government should protect choice, not eliminate it.
Public institutions become stronger when they focus on outcomes rather than unnecessary controls. Every hour spent defending an avoidable policy is an hour diverted from solving genuine administrative problems.
The NYSC has an opportunity to demonstrate responsive leadership by reviewing this requirement before it becomes another prolonged legal battle. Doing so would not weaken the institution. On the contrary, it would show that the scheme understands the difference between administrative necessity and bureaucratic overreach.
The greatness of an institution is not measured by how rigidly it enforces every rule but by how wisely it distinguishes between what truly matters and what does not.
At a time when Nigerians expect public institutions to become more efficient, more humane, and more citizen-centered, compelling women to change their names should not rank among the priorities of a national service scheme.
The NYSC was created to build a stronger Nigeria—not to determine what a married woman should be called.
Sometimes, the strongest institutions are those willing to admit that a rule no longer serves any meaningful public purpose and simply let it go.