When Did NANS Lose Its Voice?

When Did NANS Lose Its Voice?

By Jerry Adesewo

Every generation produces institutions that become the conscience of a nation.

For Nigeria in the 1960s, 70s and 80s, one of those institutions was the National Union of Nigerian Students (NUNS), later transformed into the National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS). It was not merely a student body; it was a moral force. Governments feared it. Citizens respected it. Military dictators watched it carefully. Its leaders were young, uncompromising and often willing to sacrifice their futures—and sometimes their lives—for principles they believed transcended personal ambition.

Today, that image feels almost nostalgic.

The NANS that once mobilised thousands of students against injustice has increasingly become associated with political endorsements, government patronage, and internal power struggles. It raises a difficult but necessary question: when did Nigeria’s student movement stop speaking truth to power and begin speaking for power?

READ ALSO: Education Ministry Dismisses Reports of Attack on FGGC Monguno, Assures Students’ Safety

No event captures the golden age of student activism better than the “Ali Must Go” protests of April 1978.

The immediate issue appeared modest. The military government of General Olusegun Obasanjo approved an increase in the daily feeding allowance from ₦1.50 to ₦2.00 and raised hostel accommodation fees to ₦90 per session. To government officials, it may have seemed like a routine economic adjustment. To students, it represented a direct assault on access to education, especially for children from poor families.

Student leaders did not react impulsively. They organised congresses at the University of Maiduguri, the University of Ilorin and the University of Calabar, hoping dialogue would prevail. When government refused to reverse the policy, students across the country embarked on coordinated protests under the now legendary slogan “Ali Must Go,” directed at the then Federal Commissioner for Education, Colonel (Dr.) Ahmadu Ali.

What followed remains one of the darkest chapters in Nigeria’s educational history.

On April 18, 1978, University of Lagos student Akintunde Ojo and a pregnant woman were shot dead during clashes with security forces. At Ahmadu Bello University, soldiers and police opened fire on unarmed students, killing eight others and injuring many more.

The protests spread nationwide, and government responded by shutting down universities indefinitely.

Student union presidents—including Segun Okeowo (University of Lagos), Ekpein Appah (University of Benin), Offiong Aqua (University of Calabar), and Bukar Mbaha (Ahmadu Bello University)—were expelled. The National Union of Nigerian Students was banned.

The purge did not stop with students, as renowned academics were removed from office. They lost positions. Some lost careers. Some lost their freedom. Some lost their lives. Yet they secured something much greater. They ensured that the government understood that education was not a privilege reserved for the wealthy. That generation of student leaders believed that universities existed to question society, not merely to produce graduates.

Today’s NANS inhabits a very different landscape. The organisation still commands attention, but increasingly for reasons that would have puzzled its predecessors. Leadership contests are frequently overshadowed by allegations of political sponsorship. National officers are often seen at government events, endorsing policies or receiving official recognition at moments when many students expect vigorous advocacy. The contrast becomes even more striking when viewed against the realities confronting students today.

Over the past few years, public universities have witnessed significant increases in tuition and other institutional charges, forcing many students to defer their education or abandon it altogether. Campuses have endured prolonged industrial actions by academic and non-academic unions, disrupting academic calendars and deepening uncertainty. The cost of accommodation, transportation, food, and learning materials has risen sharply alongside the broader cost-of-living crisis. Questions surrounding the implementation of the student loan scheme, campus security, graduate unemployment, and the declining quality of tertiary education continue to dominate public discourse.

Yet, on many of these issues, the response from the national student leadership has often been muted, fragmented, or limited to press statements that quickly fade from public attention. While engagement with government is an important responsibility, many observers argue that the sustained mobilisation, principled advocacy, and coordinated national campaigns that once defined Nigerian student activism have become increasingly rare.

This is not to suggest that every contemporary student leader lacks conviction. Many continue to champion student welfare under difficult circumstances. However, institutional independence—the defining strength of earlier generations—appears significantly weakened.

Nationwide student mobilisation on the scale of the “Ali Must Go” movement has become almost unimaginable. Why? Part of the answer lies in the changing nature of politics itself.

Military governments presented a clear adversary. Today’s democracy is more complex. Political parties actively court youth leaders. Government appointments, contracts, and patronage have blurred the traditional boundaries between activism and politics. Student organisations themselves are no longer insulated from national political rivalries.

Another reason is the fragmentation of student identity. Social media has amplified individual voices but weakened collective organisation. Where previous generations debated ideology in congresses, today’s activism often unfolds through hashtags, online videos, and fragmented campaigns that rarely translate into sustained national action.

Yet history reminds us that student movements have never been valuable because they were loud. They were valuable because they were independent.

Around the world, universities remain incubators of democratic culture precisely because students ask uncomfortable questions. From South Africa’s anti-apartheid movement to the American civil rights movement and the protests that reshaped Latin America, student organisations have repeatedly served as society’s moral compass.

Nigeria should expect no less.

This is not an argument for perpetual confrontation with government. Nor is it an invitation to romanticise unrest. Responsible engagement, dialogue, and constructive advocacy are hallmarks of mature democracies. But partnership must never become subservience.

The role of NANS is not to be an extension of any government or political party. It is to be the independent voice of Nigerian students, defending access to education, academic freedom, institutional autonomy and social justice regardless of which administration occupies Aso Rock.

Nearly five decades after the blood of Akintunde Ojo and eight Ahmadu Bello University students stained the pages of Nigeria’s history, the question confronting today’s student movement is not whether it can organise another “Ali Must Go.”

The real question is whether it can rediscover the courage, independence, and moral clarity that made such a movement possible in the first place.

History remembers those young men and women not because they won every battle but because they refused to surrender their voice.

Perhaps that is the lesson today’s NANS needs most. Not to become an opposition movement. But to become, once again, the conscience of Nigeria’s campuses—and, by extension, the conscience of the nation itself.