by Chernor Mohamadu Jalloh

IPAM – University of Sierra Leone
Email: cmjay2025@gmail.com

In Sierra Leone today, it’s not uncommon to hear university students say, “I’m only here for the paper.” That “paper” refers to their degree—a document many see as their ticket to a job, a promotion, or elevated social status.

This statement, often whispered during exams or in lecture halls, is more than a casual remark. It reveals a deeper crisis in our education system. What was once a transformative journey of learning, critical thinking, and service has now become transactional. Education has lost its soul. It has become a means to an end—not a mission with meaning.

Cracks in the System

Signs of this decline are everywhere. Universities are overcrowded and starved of resources. Public primary and secondary schools are dilapidated, plagued by inadequate teaching materials and demoralized staff. Some teachers are underpaid, others go months without a salary. National education policy lacks strategic direction. What we have is a system churning out graduates—many of whom are poorly equipped for the workforce or for active civic life.

And it shows. From weak governance to growing unemployment and widespread apathy, the ripple effects of a broken education system are undeniable.

From Pride to Peril

It wasn’t always like this. Sierra Leone was once celebrated as the “Athens of West Africa”—a place of academic excellence, home to Fourah Bay College, and a magnet for scholars across the continent. In the 1960s and early 70s, education was a national pride. Scholars studied abroad and returned eager to contribute—teaching, building institutions, and shaping the nation.

But by the late 1970s, something changed. As Professor Joe A.D. Alie recently remarked in a widely circulated TikTok clip, “You cannot divorce tertiary education from what’s happening in the country. The university reflects the broader issues that have long affected Sierra Leone.” According to him, the cracks began in the ’70s, and by the 1980s, deep structural decline had set in. The politicization of institutions, rampant corruption, and growing materialism eroded the foundations of education.

Wisdom or Wealth? What Do We Really Value?

A perfect illustration of our shifting values lies in how we remember two prominent Sierra Leoneans: Bailor Barrie, the wealthy diamond dealer, and Davidson Nicol, the distinguished academic and diplomat. Both made significant contributions in different arenas. Yet today, Barrie is remembered more for his wealth than his impact. Nicol’s intellectual legacy is often overlooked.

This tells us everything: we now celebrate wealth over wisdom, shortcuts over substance, and status over service. And education is paying the price.

Entitlement in the Lecture Hall

These attitudes are playing out daily on university campuses. As an exam invigilator, I recently witnessed a shocking exchange. A student, reprimanded for flouting exam rules, responded with swagger: “There’s life beyond university. I could feed some of you for two years.” He added, “Some of you wouldn’t dare come near me outside because I’m superior.”

Such arrogance speaks volumes. Many students today are already public servants or businesspeople. They attend university not to grow, but to tick a box. Education is just another rung on the ladder—not a platform for development.

The Grip of Nepotism

This toxic culture of entitlement is fueled by cronyism, nepotism, and a general disregard for merit. Some students hold public office before earning a degree. Others feel untouchable because of family connections. Academic standards are mocked. Lecturers are disrespected. Integrity is optional.

Universities must draw the line. No one forced these students to enroll. If they refuse to abide by academic standards, they should be suspended. Institutions must protect their values—even if it means rustication.

Back to Fix What They Broke?

Ironically, many of those who failed the public in service later return to academia—not to learn, but to chase credentials. They want degrees, not discipline. They want titles, not transformation.

We now live in a country where “Dr.” or “Hon.” often means very little in terms of real knowledge or competence. This obsession with titles over substance is killing professionalism—and it’s time we called it out.

Time to Reset the System

If Sierra Leone wants to truly recover—economically, socially, politically—it must start with rebuilding education. And not just the buildings. We need a complete mindset shift.

First, re-think admissions. Let’s prioritize those genuinely eager to learn and contribute to national development—not those chasing a promotion.

Second, support our educators. Many work under punishing conditions—low pay, poor facilities, and zero motivation. Yet they are the backbone of the system. Invest in them, train them, and respect them.

Third, overhaul the curriculum. The world is moving forward while we cling to outdated syllabi. We need critical thinking, digital literacy, civic education, and creativity in our classrooms. Education should prepare young people for employment, leadership, and responsible citizenship.

Reclaiming National Values

Beyond institutions, we need a national shift in values. As a society, we must start celebrating intellect. Honor teachers. Respect thinkers. Our role models should include educators, scientists, artists, and public servants—not just wealthy traders and power-hungry politicians.

This cultural change starts at home. It should be reinforced in schools, broadcast in our media, and modeled by our leaders.

Final Word: Back to Athens

The late Professor Davidson Nicol once said, “The dignity of a nation is reflected in the minds of its people.” If we continue to undervalue education, we risk sliding further into mediocrity. But if we can restore purpose, integrity, and vision to our education system, we can rise again.

Let universities be sacred spaces—not just for acquiring credentials, but for shaping minds and character. If Sierra Leone truly wants to reclaim its reputation as “The Athens of West Africa,” we must return to what made Athens great: truth, inquiry, excellence, and public service.