In Sierra Leone, a troubling phrase echoes through university corridors: “I’m just here for the paper.” That “paper”—a degree—has become a golden ticket for many students, a stepping stone to jobs, promotions, or social clout. But beneath this offhand comment lies a crisis. Education, once a noble pursuit of knowledge and service, has morphed into a transactional game. It’s no longer a mission—it’s a means to an end. And in losing its purpose, Sierra Leone risks losing its future.
A System in Shambles
The signs of decay are impossible to ignore. Universities buckle under overcrowded classrooms and scarce resources. Public schools—primary and secondary—crumble with broken desks, outdated books, and teachers who are overworked and underpaid. Some go months without salaries, their morale as battered as the buildings they teach in. National education policies lack vision, producing graduates who often lack the skills to thrive in the workforce or contribute meaningfully to society.
The fallout is clear: weak governance, rising unemployment, and a growing sense of apathy—all symptoms of an education system on life support.
From Glory to Gloom
Sierra Leone wasn’t always this way. Once dubbed the “Athens of West Africa,” the nation boasted Fourah Bay College as a beacon of learning, drawing scholars from across the continent. In the 1960s and early ’70s, education was a source of pride. Graduates studied abroad and returned with a fire to build the nation—teaching, innovating, and leading.
But the tide turned. As historian Professor Joe A. D. Alie noted in a viral TikTok clip, “The state of our universities mirrors the country’s broader struggles.” He traces the decline to the late 1970s, when politicization, corruption, and a thirst for quick riches began to erode education’s foundations. By the 1980s, the cracks had widened into chasms.
Wealth Over Wisdom
Our values have shifted, and it shows in who we celebrate. Take two Sierra Leonean icons: Bailor Barrie, a wealthy diamond merchant, and Davidson Nicol, a brilliant scholar and diplomat. Barrie’s riches overshadow his legacy, while Nicol’s intellectual contributions fade from memory. This isn’t just nostalgia—it’s a diagnosis. We’ve traded wisdom for wealth, substance for shortcuts, and service for status. Education has become a casualty of this warped priorities.
Entitlement Takes Root
This mindset has invaded classrooms. As an exam invigilator, I recently overheard a student, caught breaking rules, sneer: “There’s life beyond university. I could feed some of you for two years.” He boasted, “Outside these walls, some of you wouldn’t dare approach me—I’m superior.”
The audacity stunned me. Many students today—some already public servants or entrepreneurs—see university as a checkbox, not a chance to grow. Education is a formality, not a foundation.
Nepotism’s Stranglehold
Fueling this arrogance is a culture of cronyism and nepotism. Some students land public jobs before earning their degrees, propped up by family ties. Academic standards are scoffed at, lecturers disrespected, and integrity treated as optional. Universities must push back. If students reject the rules, suspension should be on the table. No one’s forcing them to be here—let’s protect the sanctity of learning, even if it means tough choices.
Chasing Titles, Not Transformation
Here’s the irony: many who’ve failed in public service later return to academia—not to redeem themselves, but to pad their resumes. They crave “Dr.” or “Hon.” titles, not the discipline or insight those should represent. In Sierra Leone today, credentials often outshine competence, and professionalism is dying as a result. It’s time we named this for what it is: a hollow pursuit.
A Roadmap to Recovery
If Sierra Leone is serious about revival—economic, social, or political—education must be the starting line. But it’s not just about fixing buildings. We need a total reset.
We must prioritize students hungry to learn and serve, not those gaming the system for a pay bump. They’re the heartbeat of education, yet they endure low wages and dismal conditions. Pay them fairly, train them well, and give them respect. Our curricula are stuck in the past while the world races ahead. Teach critical thinking, digital skills, civic duty, and creativity—tools for jobs, leadership, and citizenship.
A Cultural Reckoning
Beyond classrooms, we need a national wake-up call. Let’s honor intellect again—teachers, thinkers, innovators—not just tycoons and politicians. This shift starts at home, grows in schools, spreads through media, and must be lived by our leaders.
Back to Athens
Professor Davidson Nicol once said, “The dignity of a nation is reflected in the minds of its people.” If we keep treating education as a hustle, we’ll sink deeper into mediocrity. But if we revive its purpose—truth, inquiry, excellence, and service—Sierra Leone can rise again.
Let’s make universities sacred again, not just credential mills, but crucibles for minds and character. To reclaim our title as the “Athens of West Africa,” we must return to what made Athens timeless. The future depends on it.
By Chernor Mohamadu Jalloh Lecturer of Governance, Public Policy & Development Studies, IPAM – University of Sierra Leone
