NELFUND’s Promise for 1 Million Students sinked by N80bn Theft Risk

NELFUND’s Promise for 1 Million Students sinked by N80bn Theft Risk
NELFUND, the Nigerian Education Loan Fund, entered the national spotlight with high hopes. For students across the country, it wasn’t just another government program—it felt like a rescue mission. The idea of receiving interest-free loans without political hurdles or family embarrassment lit up young minds, especially for those struggling to pay fees or keep their education going.
NELFUND’s promise was clear: a fully digital, human-free loan process designed to cut out corruption. It sounded like a miracle in a system where students often miss out on scholarships rigged for the elite. Suddenly, dreams of becoming engineers, doctors, or lawyers didn’t have to die in silence. People called it a game-changer, and for good reason.
But in Nigeria, hope is often short-lived.
Not long after its launch, troubling stories began to surface. Students and watchdogs alleged that some universities were already slicing into the loans. Reports claimed that university officials had started making illegal deductions, turning the lifeline into a cash cow. Some even taxed the loans, pocketing money meant for books and tuition.
NELFUND pushed back hard. They called the claims “reckless” and dismissed them as misinformation. But for many Nigerians, especially those used to scandals, suspicion had already taken root. No audit was needed. Their instincts screamed corruption.
After all, Nigerians have seen this movie before.
Big ideas arrive with bright banners and loud promises. Then, the system chews them up. The country’s deep-rooted corruption often kills bold initiatives before they take off. If funds vanish or get diverted, students drop out, research ends, and the economy loses out on much-needed skills.
The threat to NELFUND is real—and it’s growing.
When large funds flow into a weak system, they attract the worst players. History has shown us that public money meant for good causes—like education or health—often disappears. Digital platforms can be hacked. Loan data can be tampered with. Kickbacks can reroute disbursements.
That’s not just theft. It’s sabotage.
When education breaks down, it’s not just about the students. The entire country suffers. Nigeria needs doctors, tech workers, engineers, and thinkers. Without that, growth stalls. And when young people see the system as unfair, they flee—triggering more brain drain.
To understand what’s at stake, look no further than the oil sector.
Since 2021, Nigeria set aside nearly $3 billion to repair three major refineries: Warri, Kaduna, and Port Harcourt. The money was supposed to bring them back to life and cut down on fuel imports. The government held press briefings and camera shows. But behind the scenes, the same old problems returned.
Within weeks of those “restarts,” things fell apart. Warri shut down. Port Harcourt operated below 40% capacity. Kaduna never got moving. Then came the storm.
The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) launched a full investigation. What they found was alarming. Three top officials were arrested. One had N80 billion in their personal account. Thirteen others, including former Group CEO Mele Kyari, were also named.
This wasn’t just mismanagement. It was betrayal.
Experts had warned that the refinery ceremonies were fake. “A charade,” one energy consultant called it. And they were right. The money was wasted. Refineries stayed broken. And fuel prices remained unstable.
The story mirrors NELFUND too closely. Both are major public investments—one in energy, the other in education. Both are vital to the country’s future. But both now face the same danger: corruption. If officials siphoned off money from the refineries with ease, what’s stopping them from looting student loans?
This comparison matters because the damage could last decades.
When students are robbed, they drop out. Inequality grows. National development slows down. It’s like cutting the roots of a tree and expecting it to bear fruit. In the same way, failing refineries mean Nigeria must keep importing fuel, wasting foreign exchange and hiking costs for ordinary people.
President Bola Tinubu addressed the issue during his May Day speech. He called out corruption for what it is—a system that feeds the greedy and punishes the poor. He vowed to fight it. But the speech lacked a plan. No new laws. No action steps. Just more words in a country tired of hearing them.
That gap between talk and action is dangerous.
Nigerians are not asking for miracles. They want systems that work. Students want to go to school without begging or bribing. They want to learn, graduate, and get jobs. They want to give back to their families and communities. That dream is simple—but corruption keeps getting in the way.
NELFUND has the power to change lives. But only if it’s protected. If it falls into the same traps as the refineries, it will become another expensive joke. And this time, the price will be paid in lost futures and broken dreams.
Now is the time to act—not with speeches, but with real reforms.
Close the loopholes. Punish the corrupt. Build strong digital firewalls. Allow independent monitors to track loan use. And most importantly, make sure that no student is robbed of their chance to succeed.
Because in the end, stealing from students isn’t just theft.
It’s the slow killing of a nation’s potential.
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