Opinion

Protecting Local Languages From Extinction

Published

2 years ago

November 22, 2023

Researchers say that language loss occurs when the language has no native speakers and automatically becomes a “dead language”. For the Nigerian ethnic languages, the picture is grim and worrisome as younger generations become incapable of speaking their native languages, because most of our local languages are obviously one of the endangered languages. Languages are not just a means of communication, but a medium of conveyance of the culture and history of indigenous peoples. When languages go into extinction, humanity loses not only cultural wealths but also an important ancestral knowledge embedded in particular indigenous languages. No one can preserve the culture, nor tell the story of a people more than the people themselves, using their indigenous languages.The introduction of English language by the colonial masters as a facilitating agent of colonialism produced multifarious challenges to African languages, especially in the Nigerian sphere.
Though the English language may appear more advanced, versatile and sophisticated, having evolved over the centuries, it lacks the requisite lexicons for perfect translations of most indigenous communications. It therefore becomes a challenge to tell indigenous stories in a foreign language. The clash of the English language and culture with the local languages and cultures, as colonialists invaded African communities, made the English language dominate local languages in several ways. Though the colonialists made efforts to develop alphabets using local phones, and to script the local languages in Nigeria, English remained the official language standard in education, civil and religious endeavours. In their limited knowledge of the variants of local languge phones the colonialists created some distortions of local translations and scripts, which remain to be corrected, while the locals in trying to cope with the new language blended local languages with English to create corrupt variants of English now called the Pidgin English.
While the colonialists continue in their true language, leaving the locals to fumble with pidgin according to their levels of education, it remains the responsibility of local communities to advance their languages from where the colonialists had stopped, bearing in mind that the native language is the only perfect means of preserving indigenous cultures and identities. Abandoning native languages for ready-made foreign languages, is an easy way to wipe-off cultural heritages, and kill local histories and the knowledge they convey.It is therefore a thing of concern that 63 years after colonial independence, no single local language from the numerous ethnicities in Nigeria is considered a Nigerian official language, rather than the colonialist’s language, the English language, even with the consideration to add French. How then do we build nationhood? The populations of most ethnic peoples in Nigeria are more than the population of most advanced countries who have promoted their languages around the world, yet we allow ours to stand inferior.
The situation has come to a height where concerned indigenous people begin to express fears that their languages may go into extinction within the foreseeable future. The fear became more pronounced when in the year 2012, United Nations Educational Cultural and Scientific Organisation (UNESCO) predicted that half of the 7,000 plus languages spoken around the world, including specific Nigerian languages, will become extinct if nothing was done to save them. Already the colonial invasion of Nigeria in the nineteenth century, aside from some of its benefits, suppressed many ethnic civilisations to the point of extinction. Today, the descendants of the Kanen-Bornu, Nri, Nok, Benin, Oyo and Ife, kingdoms hear stories of their histories and identities as folklores, recorded and told in a foreign language, and mostly documented and told by foreigners.In some cultures, the loss of a way of life, through the dismantling of ethnic norms and the forceful fusion of nationhood by the British colonialists without the express consent of the entities involved, introduced deeply flawed arrangements that effectively confused and corrupted local democratic spirits.
Nigeria was set-up as nation under a name given by foreigners, set-up on borrowed constitution, a borrowed justice and governance system. According to Chinua Achebe, in his book, ‘There Was A Country,’ “Africa’s post-colonial dispossession is the result of a people who have lost the habit of ruling themselves.”By nature, Nigerian ethnicities were remarkably creative, egalitarian, resourceful, resilient, adventurous and progressive, though without the sophistication of writing skills and advanced learning institutions. Current cultural trends in Nigeria have become mostly propelled in English or in its local variant of Pidgin, in ways that lose connections with the roots of our communities that the creative message and essence is mostly lost. Indigenous peoples should borrow superior advancements from other cultures while preserving that which is precious in theirs, and convey emerging trends in their various languages. After all, all cultures and languages borrow from one another to advance in versatility and trend.
In Nigeria, some parents have become so disconnected from their local cultures that names of children are now outlandish, inspired by names of popular actors and actresses from foreign movies, with no bearing on local meanings. Some children now have first names and surnames that give no hint of their ancestral nor ethnic identity, and some even give their children names like Golden, Prevail, Marvelous, Precious, etc, words which are either verbs or adjectives.To advance our languages, government should promote the use of local languages in schools and in religious and social gatherings. Study text books, in various subjects, should be produced in the local languages. Efforts should be made to develop and widen the lexicons of our local languages to give local expressions for emerging terms in arts, science, mathematics, sports, commerce, technology, tools and appliances, as well as in religious and political discussions. Traditional rulers, as true custodians of the various cultures, should see to it as a duty to propagate their languages by promoting communications in indigenous langauages but not by holding unto unprogressive observances.

By: Joseph Nwankwor

Opinion

Curbing Youth Unemployment In Nigeria

Published

2 days ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “A nation that fails to empower its youth risks mortgaging its future.”

Youth, generally defined as individuals between the ages of 15 and 35, represent a critical phase of human development—a transition from adolescence to adulthood marked by ambition, energy, and the pursuit of purpose. In Nigeria, this demographic constitutes a significant proportion of the population, making it one of the country’s greatest assets. However, this strength is increasingly undermined by a persistent and troubling challenge: youth unemployment.

Unemployment, the condition of being without gainful employment despite the willingness and ability to work, remains a major global concern. In Nigeria, however, it has reached alarming levels, particularly among young people. With estimates suggesting that a substantial percentage of Nigerian youth are either unemployed or underemployed, the consequences have become deeply embedded in the nation’s social and economic fabric.

The impact of youth unemployment is both widespread and severe. Economically, it leads to increased poverty levels and reduced productivity. Socially, it fuels frustration, hopelessness, and disillusionment among young people. This often manifests in rising rates of crime, cyber fraud, substance abuse, and involvement in political violence. When young people are unable to find legitimate means of livelihood, they may become vulnerable to negative influences, posing a threat not only to themselves but to society at large.

One of the primary drivers of youth unemployment in Nigeria is the inadequacy of the educational system. While many young Nigerians graduate from tertiary institutions each year, a significant number lack the practical and technical skills required in today’s job market. The disconnect between academic curricula and industry demands leaves graduates ill-prepared for employment, thereby widening the gap between education and employability.

Furthermore, Nigeria’s heavy dependence on the oil sector has contributed significantly to the unemployment crisis. Over the years, this reliance has led to the neglect of other critical sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology—sectors that have the potential to generate large-scale employment. The failure to diversify the economy has limited job opportunities and stifled innovation, leaving many young people without viable career paths.

In addition, rapid population growth continues to put immense pressure on the labor market. Each year, thousands of graduates enter the workforce, but the number of available jobs remains insufficient to absorb them. This imbalance creates intense competition for limited opportunities, leaving many qualified individuals unemployed for extended periods.

Access to finance also remains a major barrier for young Nigerians who wish to venture into entrepreneurship. Despite the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit that many youths possess, the lack of access to credit facilities, mentorship, and business support systems makes it difficult for them to establish and sustain their own enterprises. This challenge is further compounded by infrastructural deficits, such as unreliable power supply and limited access to technology.

Security challenges across various parts of the country have also worsened the situation. In some regions, economic hardship and lack of opportunities have made young people susceptible to recruitment into violent or extremist activities. This not only exacerbates insecurity but also diverts the energy of the youth away from productive engagement.

Addressing youth unemployment in Nigeria requires a comprehensive and collaborative approach. The government must take the lead by implementing policies that promote economic diversification, particularly by investing in agriculture, manufacturing, and the digital economy. These sectors hold immense potential for job creation and can absorb a large portion of the unemployed youth population.

Equally important is the reform of the educational system to emphasize skill acquisition, vocational training, and entrepreneurship. Schools and institutions must align their curricula with market needs, ensuring that graduates are equipped with relevant and practical skills. Public-private partnerships can play a vital role in facilitating internships, apprenticeships, and job placement programs.

The private sector also has a crucial role to play in driving job creation and innovation. By investing in youth-focused initiatives and supporting startups, businesses can help unlock the potential of young Nigerians. Additionally, financial institutions should develop more accessible and youth-friendly credit schemes to support small and medium-sized enterprises.

On an individual level, young people must embrace self-development, adaptability, and continuous learning. In an increasingly competitive and evolving global economy, acquiring digital skills, engaging in vocational training, and exploring entrepreneurial opportunities can significantly improve employability.

In conclusion, youth unemployment remains one of the most pressing challenges facing Nigeria today. However, it is not an insurmountable problem. With deliberate policies, strategic investments, and collective action from government, the private sector, and individuals, Nigeria can transform its youth population into a powerful engine of growth and development. By empowering young people with opportunities, skills, and resources, the nation can secure a more prosperous and stable future.

IVARA Favour Isaac is a student of Pan-African Institute of Management and Technology.

By: Ivara Favour Isaac

Opinion

Ozoro Festival: Tradition or Tyranny?

Published

2 days ago

March 30, 2026

The Tide

Quote:“These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.”

In recent days, national attention has turned to the small community of Ozoro in Delta State, where what was once described as a cultural fertility rite—the Alue-Do Festival—has become the subject of outrage, grief, and urgent national reflection. According to accounts from notable indigenes of Ozoro and the Isoko ethnic group, the festival was originally conceived as a symbolic ritual intended to bless couples struggling with conception. In theory, it was meant to celebrate life, continuity, and communal identity. However, what reportedly unfolded on March 22 bore no resemblance to any noble cultural ideal. Videos circulating widely on social media show groups of men chasing women, forcibly stripping them, and subjecting them to sexual assault in public spaces. These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.

They compel us to confront a difficult but necessary question: when does tradition cease to be culture and become tyranny? It is encouraging that prominent voices—including the First Lady, the Minister of Women Affairs, human rights organisations, and women’s advocacy groups—have condemned these barbaric acts. The Delta State Government has since banned the Alue-Do Festival, while law enforcement authorities have reportedly made arrests. Yet beyond the immediate outrage lies a deeper and more uncomfortable conversation—one that communities across the country must confront honestly: the thin line between culture and abuse. “Culture is not static—it evolves, or at least, it should.” Culture is often described as the soul of a people, encompassing traditions, beliefs, and practices passed down through generations. Nigeria is richly endowed with diverse cultural heritage, much of which we rightly celebrate.

However, when culture becomes a shield for harmful practices, it loses its moral authority. When actions that violate fundamental human rights are justified in the name of tradition, we must ask: whose culture is this, and at what cost? The events in Ozoro illustrate how a practice that may once have held symbolic meaning can devolve into something deeply harmful. Even if the Alue-Do Festival began as a benign fertility rite, its present manifestation—marked by violence and coercion—cannot be defended. “Culture must align with dignity, consent, and respect—anything less is not tradition, but abuse.” One of the most persistent arguments in defence of controversial practices is that they are “part of our heritage” and therefore beyond criticism. Yet harmful practices—child marriage, inhumane widowhood rites, and domestic abuse—have long been justified using this same reasoning. This argument is not only flawed; it is dangerous. No culture is above scrutiny, particularly when it endangers the rights and safety of its people.

History reminds us that many practices once considered “normal” are now widely condemned. Societies progress by questioning and reforming such practices—not by clinging to them. Nigeria is not exempt from this reality. As a nation governed by law and constitutional principles, we cannot afford to tolerate practices that undermine the rights of citizens—especially women. At the heart of the Ozoro incident lies a broader societal issue: the perception of women as objects rather than autonomous individuals. The actions of the perpetrators were not isolated—they were enabled by a mindset that sees women’s bodies as accessible, controllable, and, in some contexts, communal property. “Women are not possessions, prizes, or objects of exploitation—they are individuals with rights, agency, and dignity.” This mindset reflects a deeper systemic problem often described as “rape culture,” visible in victim-blaming narratives, the dismissal of harassment, and the silence that frequently surrounds abuse.

For meaningful change to occur, this mindset must be confronted directly. Parents, religious institutions, government agencies, and the media all have critical roles to play in reshaping societal attitudes. Traditional institutions also wield significant influence, particularly in rural communities. With that influence comes responsibility—not only to preserve culture but to ensure that cultural practices align with contemporary standards of human rights and decency.The reported denial by the Ovie of Ozoro Kingdom of knowledge of the recent festival raises important questions about oversight and accountability. Community leaders and members alike must rise to their responsibilities. Cultural practices are sustained by collective acceptance. Silence, indifference, or complicity only perpetuate harm. While cultural reform is essential, it must be accompanied by accountability. The arrests made in connection with the incident are a step in the right direction, but they must lead to tangible outcomes. “Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done.”

Allowing perpetrators of sexual violence to go unpunished sends a dangerous message—that such actions are tolerable. This fosters a culture of impunity. The law must be clear and unequivocal: sexual assault, in any form and under any guise, is a crime. It is not a cultural expression—it is a violation.It must be emphasised that calling for the abandonment of harmful cultural practices is not an attack on tradition, but a call to refine it. Culture, at its best, is dynamic—it adapts while preserving its core values.“Tradition should uplift, not oppress.” Modernising culture does not mean erasing identity. It means ensuring that traditions remain relevant, inclusive, and respectful of human dignity. As Nigeria continues to evolve, it must decide what kind of society it aspires to be: one that hides behind tradition to justify abuse, or one that embraces progress while honouring its heritage responsibly. The outrage over the events in Ozoro is justified—but outrage alone is not enough

. It must translate into action: legal, cultural, and educational. We must state, without ambiguity, that no tradition justifies the violation of human dignity. We must hold perpetrators accountable and challenge the attitudes that enable such acts. True development is measured not only by infrastructure or economic growth, but by how a society treats its most vulnerable members. “If a cultural practice dehumanises, degrades, or endangers, it has no place in a modern society.” Where tradition fails to uphold dignity, it ceases to be culture. It becomes tyranny.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

Bazia EXCO @ One: NUJ Rivers Reawakened

Published

1 week ago

March 23, 2026

The Tide

Quote: “For the first time in years, Rivers journalists are not just hearing promises—they are seeing a union that works.”

The first year in office of the Paul Bazia-led executive of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ), has offered something many had almost given up on—renewed confidence in union leadership. For a body as critical as the NUJ, whose responsibility goes beyond professional coordination to include the welfare, protection, and continuous development of journalists, expectations are always high. Unfortunately, past experiences had conditioned many members to expect less—less action, less visibility, and less impact.This is why the past twelve months stand out. Within a relatively short period, the Bazia-led administration has demonstrated a level of drive that distinguishes it from its predecessors. There is a noticeable shift from inertia to activity, from routine administration to purposeful leadership. Initiatives captured in the one-year report point to an executive that understands both the urgency of its mandate and the frustrations of its members.

Particularly commendable is the renewed attention to journalists’ welfare. For too long, welfare issues have lingered without meaningful resolution, leaving many practitioners feeling unsupported. The current leadership’s efforts—through engagement, structured support, and timely interventions—signal a welcome change in priorities. Equally important is the push toward professional development. In an era where journalism is rapidly evolving, capacity building is no longer optional. The administration’s commitment to training and skill enhancement reflects an understanding that a stronger union must be built on more competent and competitive professionals. There is also something to be said about visibility and voice. A vibrant NUJ must not only serve its members internally but also stand as a credible voice in the public space—defending press freedom, promoting ethical standards, and constructively engaging critical issues.

Encouragingly, the current executive appears more present and responsive, giving the union a renewed sense of relevance. Perhaps what resonates most, however, is the sense of movement. For many members, the difference between the present and the immediate past is not subtle—it is clear. Where there was once stagnation, there is now direction. Where there was doubt, there is growing belief. Beyond the visible strides recorded within this first year, what perhaps deserves even greater applause is the restoration of institutional confidence within the Nigeria Union of Journalists. For a long time, many members had grown disenchanted, viewing the union more as a ceremonial body than an active force capable of defending their interests and advancing their welfare. That narrative, however, is gradually changing. The Bazia-led executive has not only initiated programs but has also rekindled a sense of belonging among members.

Meetings appear more purposeful, engagements more intentional, and decisions more reflective of collective interest. This psychological shift—subtle as it may seem—is one of the most critical achievements of the past year, because a union that its members believe in is already halfway to effectiveness. It is also important to underscore the contrast with the immediate past, not as an exercise in criticism, but as a necessary context for measuring progress. Where previous administrations struggled to translate plans into action, the current leadership has shown a greater bias for execution. Projects that once lingered in discussion stages are now seeing tangible movement, and issues that were previously deferred are receiving attention. This difference in approach—moving from prolonged deliberation to decisive action—has helped reposition the union as a more responsive and relevant institution.

While no administration is without its shortcomings, the willingness to act, even in the face of constraints, marks a significant departure from what members were accustomed to. Looking ahead, the expectations of members—and indeed the wider public—will only grow stronger. With a solid first year behind it, the Bazia-led executive now carries the burden of consistency. Members will expect deeper welfare interventions that go beyond immediate relief to more sustainable support systems. They will look for expanded training opportunities that prepare journalists for the rapidly changing media landscape. They will also expect a firmer, more courageous voice on issues affecting press freedom and professional integrity. Above all, they will demand continuity—assurance that the progress recorded so far is not a fleeting phase but the beginning of a sustained transformation.

Meeting these expectations will not be easy, but it is precisely this challenge that defines enduring leadership. That said, this moment of applause must also serve as a moment of reflection. A strong first year inevitably raises expectations. Journalists in Rivers State will now look beyond initial achievements toward consolidation. Welfare interventions must become more structured and far-reaching. Training programs must be sustained and expanded. Advocacy must become more consistent and impactful. Most importantly, the unity of the union must be strengthened, ensuring that all members feel included and carried along. Transparency will also be key. Continued open communication about finances, decisions, and challenges will deepen trust and set a standard for accountable union leadership. The task ahead is clear: to convert early momentum into lasting institutional progress.

For the Bazia-led executive, the opportunity is significant. It has, within one year, reawakened belief in what the NUJ Rivers State Council can be. The next step is to ensure that this renewed energy does not fade, but instead becomes the foundation of a stronger, more responsive, and more respected union. For the members, the message is equally clear—expect more, demand more, and support what works because in the end, a vibrant union is not built by leadership alone, but by a collective commitment to progress. And for now, under Bazia, that progress has truly begun.

By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi