After years upon years of legal back and forth, a special offences court in Lagos state recentlyjailed two subsidy fraudsters. Mamman, son of Ahmadu Ali — former chairman of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP)who was once minister of education — was awarded 14 years imprisonment. Also to spend 14 years in prison is Mr Christian Taylor, his co-defendant. They were found guilty of collecting N2.2 billion in subsidy payments for “importing” 20 million litres of petrol when, in fact, they did not bring in even half a gallon. At the time of the offence, N2.2 billion translated to a cool $13 million. That was enough to buy a private jet —or address the little matter of buying drugs for our hospitals.

That was the story of petrol subsidy in Nigeria — when we went all out to “protect the poor” by burning scarce public resources on financing the ego and libido of the rich and the powerful. This is yet another conviction in the subsidy scam series since 2012, when President Goodluck Jonathan directed the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) to probe allegations of fraud. He had suspended the deregulation of the downstream sector in response to public protests against the increase in petrol price from N67/litre to N140 on New Year’s Day.He also reduced the price to N97 after a turbulent week of opposition-inspired “aluta continua”, Lagos and Kano being the epicentres.

As a result of the probe by the EFCC, three individuals and one company have now been convicted. In addition to Ali and Taylor, Brila Energy Limited and its representative, Rowaye Jubril, were convicted in 2017. Jubril was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment while Brila was ordered to refund nearly N1 billion to the government. Oluwaseun Ogunbambo, managing director of Fargo Petroleum and Gas Ltd accused of forging documents to claim N3.7 billion subsidy payment, remains on the run.These are just a few of the court cases over the scam.In the end, the total amount that was stolen under the policy “to protect the poor” ran into probably trillions of naira during the lifetime of the subsidy.

Mr AbdulRasheed Bawa, a member of the EFCC special team that probed the scam, has justwritten a book, ‘The Shadow of Loot & Losses: Uncovering Nigeria’s Petroleum Subsidy Fraud’, on the scandal. Bawa, who later became chairman of the EFCC, tells in heartbreaking details the monumental scam. The book reveals the extent of the evil that was visited upon this country in the name of petrol subsidy. It is a damning story, a story of the atrocious collusion by politicians, business moguls and government officials to rape the national treasury to stupor — through ghost importing, over-invoicing, manipulation of bills of lading, round-tripping, double claims, diversion and smuggling.

For those who may not know, I used to be a petrol subsidy fanatic. I started turning my back on it only in January 2012 when Jonathan unsuccessfully tried to end it. I saw and heard things that were not lawful to utter. I used to support petrol subsidy principally because of the notion that Nigeria as an oil-producing country should not be selling petroleum products at the same prices as non-oil producing countries. I used to argue that nearness to raw material should make a product cheaper, often illustrating it with the fact that tomato is cheaper in Keffi than Ketu. I was never impressed with the argument that oil, as a globally traded commodity, commands different pricing economics.

I vehemently opposed the argument that selling petrol cheaper in Nigeria was making smuggling to neighbouring countries a profitable and pleasurable enterprise. My counter-argument was that government was punishing ordinary, law-abiding Nigerians for its own failure to police our borders. I just believed petrol was too critical to the cost of living to be left to market forces. In fact, I said the only thing Nigerians were enjoying was petrol subsidy and all attempts to remove it must be fiercely resisted. For every argument in favour removing subsidy, I had a ready counter— whether or not it was viable. I did not realise I was aiding and abetting an organised crime of gargantuan proportions.

Theoretically, I am still pro-subsidy — I believe that all fingers are not equal and the government must step in to help the poor  by “balancing the equation”. However, I now believe such funds should go into more impactful areas such as agriculture, health and education, not petrol. Bawa calculated, based on data from the Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA) and the Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI), that we spent about N17 trillion on petrol subsidy from 1999-2023, viz: N812 billion (1999-2006), N794 billion (2007-2009), N3.9 trillion (2010-2014) and N11 trillion (2015-2013). This is not how to spend N17 trillion.

When President Bola Tinubu assumed office in May 2023, his first policy pronouncement was “subsidy is gone”. His predecessor, President Muhammadu Buhari, had not made any provision for subsidy for the second half of 2023. Tinubu effectively brought it forward by one month. The truth, of course, was that Nigeria was heading for ground zero. The NNPC had been importing petrol at N600/litre and selling it at roughly N190. The worst part was that in the past, we used to pay for subsidy from our oil earnings. However, from around 2020, we were actually borrowing to import petrol and sell at a third of the cost. We even mortgaged our future oil earnings to import petrol!

Still, anytime I reflect on the jump in the pump price from less than N200 to over N800 (it crossed the N1,000 mark at some point) in the past two years, I ask myself whether this is really happening. The consequences have been grim: high transportation costs for motorists and low-income earners, as well as high energy costs for businesses. The fall in the value of the naira compounded a dire situation for a country that relies heavily on imports, including pharmaceuticals, clothing, education and medical treatments. It was as if the whole world was going to crash on us. Yet, it was not as if we were left with many options. The economy was running on empty. We were close to liquidation.

When Tinubu marked his second anniversary in office, I read comments and analyses, both local and foreign, on his stewardship. The contradictory views are quite fascinating. The polices which some commentators are commending are the same others are condemning. Take, for example, his two most far-reaching policies: removing petrol subsidy and liberalising the FX market. While these policies have shot the cost of living to the highest in a generation, they have also tackled a regime of corruption that had been damaging the economy for decades. And while many economists and investors are taking to the dancefloor in pleasure, the less privileged are reeling on the floor in pains.

Although I was critical of the way and manner Tinubu went about his twin policies (which I thought and still think were neither well planned nor properly executed), he took a decision that had been very difficult for past presidents. Some would take the decision and quickly backtrack after the public backlash and labour strikes. What I have found more intriguing today is that petrol can be N900/litre this week and N875 next week. When oil prices change, the prices of petroleum products react. The FX market is now following the same pattern — the naira is going up and down from time to time, just like major currencies. With no fixed rate, many speculators are now in the middle of nowhere.

Tinubu’s policy seems to be: “no subsidy, no subsidy scam”. You can’t claim payment for what doesn’t exist. Bawa’s revelations are, for me, a final nail in the coffin. Not even one kobo should ever go into petrol subsidy again. We have crossed the Red Sea and must never go back to Egypt. The next challenge is for Nigerians to start holding their leaders accountable and responsible for a judicious use of the “savings” since there are no more deductions for subsidy from the federally collected revenues. The NNPC can no longer withhold revenues from the federation account under the nebulous headline of “subsidy deductions” — although I know we are still paying some legacy bills.

Above all, it is now left for us, as active citizens, to make it a duty to put the president, governors and council bosses under the spotlight, to make sure these “saved” funds are targeted at providing amenities that will benefit most Nigerians, especially the poorest of the poor, amenities that we can feel and touch (not “audio”), amenities in healthcare, education, roads and other critical infrastructure that will be impactful and meaningful. I don’t think we need to be begged to be more active. Otherwise, of what benefit is abolishing subsidy only to spend the savings on waste and graft? That would mean we are suffering for nothing. Our latter days could end up worse than the former.

AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…

MOKWA MAYHEM

A flood submerged Mokwa, Niger state, last week, killing more than 200 people, with over 1,000 still missing, according to media reports. As many as 2,000 homes were destroyed in the havoc. Pray, how do you console a man who watched his wife and newborn baby swept away by the flood? Devastating! However, before we start blaming the disaster on adultery and fornication, the truth is that climate crisis is real. Seasonal flooding will not end soon. Just as many countries are prone to hurricanes and typhoons, many Nigerian states are vulnerable to flooding. What we need now is proactive leadership — the type that plans ahead to save lives and property. Foretold. Forewarned.

WASTED GENERATIONS

In May 2016, eight secondary students from Kano state who came to Lagos for a quiz competition died in a road accident near Ibadan, Oyo state, on their way back home. Their bodies were then flown back to Kano for burial. They were not worthy of air travel while alive. In May 2025, 22 athletes who represented Kano at the national sports festival in Abeokuta died in a road accident while returning home. The state government awarded N1 million as compensation to each family — more than enough to have bought flight tickets in the first place. Of course, we are not in control of our lives and people die in air crashes, but this says a lot about the welfare of these athletes. Wasted.

HANDSHAKE HORROR

Since the impeachment of Rt Hon Mudashiru Obasa as the speaker of Lagos house of assembly, the relationship between President Bola Tinubu and Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu has gone terribly sour. Not even the reinstatement of Obasa after the botched “coup” has repaired the strains. The internet was initially buzzing with the rumour that Obasa was impeached at Tinubu’s instance. The rumour mongers said it was because Obasa was interested in running for governorship, a position they said was reserved for Seyi, Tinubu’s son. The turn of events terminated the rumour. But no matter Sanwo-Olu’s offence, Tinubu shouldn’t have snubbed shaking his hands in public. Humiliating.

NO COMMENT

Rt Hon Rotimi Amaechi, former transportation minister, marked his 60th birthday with a claim that sent vibrations around the nation: “We are all hungry. If you are not hungry, I am.” It was obviously a political statement ahead of the 2027 elections. But Chief Nyesom Wike, his former ally turned foe, would allow that to pass. The FCT minister, who succeeded Amaechi as governor of Rivers in 2015, fired back: “He was speaker from 1999 to 2007, governor from 2007 to 2015, and minister from 2015 to 2023. He never spoke about hunger during those years. It is clear he cannot stay out of power.” Meanwhile, is it true the venue of the “hungry” birthday bash costs N30 million only? Hahahaha.

The defection of Gov. Umo Eno of Akwa Ibom State from PDP to APC on Friday was not a surprise, after all. I first got wind wind of the plan since last year, and since then, I have written two articles on it. The last, entitled ‘’2027: Will Gov. Eno defect to APC?’’ was published in March. Gov. Eno has taken his time to consult, convince various interest groups and build a consensus among PDP members and political associates for many months before he finally took the decision to move. He wanted to ensure that he moved with as many PDP members as possible. The discussions and persuasions paid off as the governor went into the APC with critical stakeholders: the two PDP senators; all members of the House of Representatives and House of Assembly; all the 31 LGA chairpersons and all but one commissioner. Overall, hundreds of PDP stalwarts, some holding political positions and others who have held various senior political offices, also moved with the governor, creating an unparalleled political change whose impacts would be felt beyond the state.

But the Commissioner for Special Duties and Deep Sea Port, Ini Emeobong refused to defect with the governor and thus resigned from the cabinet, citing ‘’personal conviction’’. Ememobong has served the government right from the administration of Godswill Akpabio as Special Assistant. He was one of Akpabio’s beloved aides who was promoted Commissioner by Gov. Udom Emmanuel after he succeeded Akpabio in 2015. But when Akpabio defected from PDP to APC in 2018, Ememobong became very hostile to Akpabio. Gov. Emmanuel deployed him to Ministry of Information from which he launched series of verbal assaults and insults against Akpabio. During the 2019 elections, Ememobong took matters in a very personal manner, moving from one media house to another to attack Akpabio in the most visceral manner. His decision not to join the APC is therefore meant to save him from the possibility of having anything to do with AKpabio again. Lesson: political disagreement should not turn into personal enmity.

But there are more significant implications of the governor’s movement. In terms of 2027, both the Senate President and the governor would be returned unopposed for second term. The PDP, hitherto the strongest political platform in the state, is now too enfeebled to offer any formidable electoral challenge to them. By joining the APC, Umo Eno has also escaped the trap inherent in the intractable leadership crisis in his former party. The leadership tussle had the potential to cause legal problems for him in 2027. APC members are also excited at the change of their political fortunes and the expectations that Gov. Eno’s entry into the party would redress the deprivation they had suffered over the years. The party has been under the grip and control of Senator AKpabio since Bola Tinubu became President. He alone decided who got a political appointment from the federal government, and the beneficiaries were mostly his close acolytes from his senatorial district.

Persons like Obong Umana Umana (former minister of Niger Delta Affairs); Atuekong Don Etiebet (former Minister of Petroleum); Obong Nsima Ekere(former Managing Director of NDDC) who joined the party long before AKpabio were all sidelined within the party. Other members who had political appointments under President Buhari were even denied reappointment by Tinubu because the Senate President had come up with his preferred nominees. Eno is coming into a party that is made up of two camps: one being a small group of contented and favoured members led by Akpabio and the other, a larger segment, made up of discontented and dejected members, who felt sidelined by leadership style of the Senate President. The dejected ones are now excited that Gov. Eno would recognize and reward them for their sacrifice and contributions all these years.

‘’The coming of the governor into our party is good for the state and provides hope for a new beginning’’, said former minister Umana to me soon after the Eno’s defection. ‘’We as members will have to work with the governor and help him to bring reconciliation, harmony and cohesion to the party’’, he added. Umana himself had defected from PDP when he served as Secretary to the State Government under Gov. Akpabio to APC in November 2014 because he was denied the governorship nomination. His defection rally was a big event in Uyo attended by Bola Tinubu (then APC National Leader); Atiku Abubarkar (presidential aspirant); John Odigie-Oyegun (then APC National Chairman) and other top party henchmen. I joined the party that day too – my first, and so far, only membership of any political party. The core and bulk of members of APC in Akwa Ibom are those who joined with Umana in 2014, but they have been at the receiving end of Akpabio’s scorched earth policy. Their main concern now is whether Akpabio will give the governor a free hand to lead and manage the enlarged APC with fairness and equity; or whether the Senate President would want to turn the governor into a stooge and corner all opportunities for himself and allies. That was the cause of his fight with Gov. Udom Emmanuel which eventually led to his defection in 2018, and now people are wondering whether history will repeat itself.

I raised this point with Umana. His response: ‘’They (Akpabio and Eno) had managed their relationship fairly well in the last two years. The governor has his own style, so I do not foresee any problem’’. Other APC members are also hopeful that Eno and Akpabio will work together this time. Elder Aniefiok Isatt, businessman, says: ‘’I think Akpabio has matured politically and he has learned his lessons too. The fact that he has an important job as Senate President in Abuja should keep him away from meddling into party politics in the state’’. Atuekong Etiebet, a former minister who had also endured some indignities under Akpabio, notes that the governor’s defection ‘’is a completely new ball game’’, while Barr. Edet Eyo Bassey, a former State Publicity Secretary of the Party, believes that the entry of the governor has offered ‘’some psychological reliefs to some of us who have worked hard for the party, but had been abandoned as if we don’t matter’’. He noted that Umo Eno will bring all members under one canopy and treat them fairly. The governor himself has pledged to be fair to all, irrespective of party affiliation. He said at the Government House Banquet Hall while announcing his defection: ‘’Together with the old and new, we will build our dear state with unity; peace and inclusivity; love and kindred spirit’’ in accordance with the lyrics of the State’s Anthem.

Another talking point is how Akwa Ibom State would benefit from Eno’s entry into APC. In his speech, the governor explained that he was defecting because of ‘’enlightened State Interest predicated on the need to align our state with the Center to attract more federal presence’’. Top on the list of the expectations of the government and the people is that President Tinubu would support the state to build a deep sea port, an aspiration that is almost as old as the state. In April, many high ranking citizens wrote an open letter to the President, urging him to support the state to achieve this age old goal. Now that he’s joined the President’s party, Eno will campaign vigorously for the reelection of the President, hoping that the President would, in return, support the state to build the sea port – a point Dr. Ita Udosen, APC South-South Zonal Secretary, aligns with. He says that Akwa Ibom people are solidly behind their governor in the expectation that this dream would be realized under the Tinubu presidency.

Gov. Eno’s movement to APC is one the most eventful political developments this year and will undoubtedly influence the outcomes of the 2027 presidential election. But I am also aware that APC leaders have been piling pressure on the eight non-APC governors in the South to defect to counterbalance the President’s dwindling popularity in the North. So far, Gov. Sheriff Oborevwori has moved, while more pressures are being piled on Gov. Peter Mba of Enugu and Alex Otti of Abia. There are indications that Gov. Charles Soludo of Anambra may defect next year. It is just unbelievable that the PDP leadership has been watching helplessly as their party withers away.

When I was a child, windows were large. Whether of glass or wood, they were designed for tropical Africa —to let in light and air, countering heat and darkness while fostering community. They made homes welcoming. Now, in the pulsating hearts of Lagos and Abuja, new buildings come with pinched tight windows, mere slivers of glass. These slit like windows, tribal marks on the cheeks of painted masks, may glitter but they are not gold. How did we fall for them? The world is warming due to climate change, yet houses in our country are spurning air and turning into ovens. And nobody appears bothered. 

Wander through Lekki or Guzape where new designs gleam with ambition. Places where money could be used to marry function and nature with style. Because houses are indeed cushioned nests and should be both practical and beautiful, not blind to the climate. Stroll through Ikate, Amuwo Odofin, or Port Harcourt, and you’ll see a rash of temperate designs in a tropical region. Why do we import and innovate without thinking? These houses don’t just have slim windows—they lack balconies. When did balconies become so old-fashioned in stifling air? Windows and balconies are lifelines. Yet fad drives us to mould concrete flasks for homes. 

Even with reliable, affordable electricity, these houses with slot-like windows would still be unbearable. But our power supply remains wretched, and fuel prices have soared beyond the reach of most households. So how do builders consider it hip to deliver sweltering mansions that cost fortunes? In middle-class enclaves of our cities, many homes designed for controlled ventilation can no longer run their generators. If homeowners can’t bear the generator burden, why are new houses becoming huge chicken pens? Why do building regulators prescribe a number of floors but not windows? 

In Europe, houses can cope with relatively small windows, as the style suits the climate. In ancient England, King William III had introduced the window tax, making windows a badge of affluence. The more you had, the more the state collected from you.  It may have also helped save heating costs because people bricked up their windows, leaving pinholes to glimpse the world. In that country that is perpetually blanketed by clouds and where summer lacks the will to linger beyond five days energy bills may undermine Healthcare funds. So houses without windows might be healthy. But the doctors in England couldn’t restrain themselves. They cried that sunless homes caused ill health, and the window tax crumbled after nearly two centuries. Are doctors in Nigeria troubled by the airless and shrouded homes sprouting across our country today? If they are, how about prescribing a minimum number and size of windows for rooms and houses in the country? 

In the past, rains didn’t just bring water for humans and their farms, rains sang joy and their cool breath swept through open homes to soothe heads and hearts. Now rains usher floods, sorrow, tangled traffic, and only fleeting and beleaguered breezes. That is why once the clouds thicken, many start to sing, ‘Rain, Rain, Go Away.’ Because between the downpours and the disruptions they cause, stuffiness persists in many homes. High humidity and absent cross ventilation make living in these expensive homes a poultry pen-like experience. There are no balconies for families to sit out, to watch birds, or wave to neighbours, to relish the soothingness of rains and the comeliness of a languid morning sun. 

These new mansions are gilded cages.

New  homes don’t just lack windows; they’re often crammed like sardines to maximise space. Building regulators seem more concerned with revenue generation than well being and health. In many new estates, neighbours in duplexes can practically shake hands through their windows. Developers squeeze housing units into tiny plots, leaving no room for air and sanity.  On some posh streets, a hundred polished homes stand shoulder-to-shoulder, each with slim windows, no balconies, a borehole, and a sewage pit pressed close. Our disdain for health when we chase wealth is comical. 

In many countries, buildings look alike. Most houses in America, like the roads, are similar. The standards are tested and firm. Nobody cuts corners. Building control takes responsibility for public well being. Research decides designs. Nothing is left out. Nothing is left to the caprices of greedy developers. The builders follow approved templates. Everybody masters it from repetition. Building-to-land ratio is strictly enforced. Yet cities have parks where people come to luxuriate and get new air. Only Abuja still has parks in Nigeria. Everywhere else parks are hunted like bushmeat by our greedy leaders and sold. This is why  tiny windows in this country are inexcusable.  Regulation has failed. But doctors should speak up. 

For a communal society, like ours, the consequences go beyond rising respiratory woes or allergies. These airless homes could spark tempers, fray marriages, and fuel unrest. They bake people. Houses without profuse ventilation are not our natural haven. We are not supposed to live in ovens.

On May 30, 2025, Ghana’s Tertiary Education Commission (GTEC) issued what it termed a "final caution" against individuals, especially politicians, entrepreneurs, and other public figures whose vanity drives them to flaunt honorary doctorates and professorships as though these titles had been academically earned.

“The Commission will henceforth take legal action against individuals found flouting these directives, alongside publicly naming and shaming them,” GTEC said in a statement signed by Professor Augustine Ocloo, the Commission’s Acting Deputy Director-General.

 Ghana’s commendable stance follows Malawi’s National Council for Higher Education, which, on March 27, 2025, categorically stated that honorary doctorates and professorships confer no entitlement to use the titles "Dr." or "Prof." in personal or professional contexts. 

According to Malawi’s council, honorary degrees are ceremonial recognitions that are markedly distinct from academic qualifications, and recipients should refrain from using these titles as personal prefixes.

The concerns raised by Ghana and Malawi echo earlier decisions in Nigeria. At their 27th conference, held at Nasarawa State University, Keffi, in September 2012, the Association of Vice Chancellors of Nigerian Universities adopted the "Keffi Declaration," which significantly tightened guidelines for honorary awards.

 Central to this declaration was a prohibition on awarding honorary doctorates to serving elected or appointed government officials. They said such conferrals must recognize genuine contributions to scholarship and societal advancement rather than political influence or wealth.

The Keffi Declaration also placed stringent conditions on awarding honorary doctorates. Notably, institutions without established doctoral programs were barred from conferring honorary degrees, and even qualified institutions were restricted to awarding a maximum of three honorary doctorates annually. 

Arguably the declaration’s most contested provision, however, was its insistence that recipients of honorary degrees must not prefix their names with "Dr." In a country with titular obsession like Nigeria, I knew that guideline would be observed in the breach because it has no force of authority.

But such collective measures represent significant progress toward remedying the degradation of academic culture across various African nations, where honorary degrees have increasingly become symbols of wealth and political clout rather than scholarly achievement. 

It is widely recognized that honorary doctorates in many African contexts have frequently been dispensed indiscriminately, often in exchange for financial contributions or political favors rather than scholarly or societal merit.

Indeed with a few honorable exceptions, most of the people who receive honorary doctorates are the kinds of people Chinua Achebe, in his memoir There Was a Country, famously characterized as "politicians with plenty of money but very low IQs." 

His vivid characterization underscores the crux of the issue, which is the alarming and growing trend of conflating political power and financial prowess with academic excellence.

That higher education authorities in Ghana, Malawi, and Nigeria have taken deliberate steps to establish clear criteria and limitations for honorary awards is laudable. These guidelines directly confront practices where institutions with limited academic offerings, sometimes barely established, have historically granted honorary degrees without genuine justification. 

Such indiscriminate practices have severely undermined the value and respect traditionally associated with doctoral titles.

Yet, while Africa’s rigorous approach to regulating honorary doctorates is justified by its unique cultural and political circumstances, it is useful to compare these developments with practices elsewhere. 

In the United States, prestigious undergraduate-only institutions, such as Knox College in Illinois—known for conferring an honorary Doctor of Fine Arts to comedian Stephen Colbert—and Amherst College in Massachusetts, regularly grant honorary doctorates during their graduation ceremonies. 

However, these institutions' practices are typically symbolic gestures of recognition and respect, devoid of the vanity-driven excesses observed in many African contexts.

The crucial difference lies in how recipients use these honorary titles post-award. Internationally, accepted convention dictates that honorary titles be appended after the recipient’s name, using "h.c." (honoris causa) to clearly distinguish honorary from earned academic credentials. For instance, one would write Muhammad Abdullah, LLD h.c., not "Dr. Muhammad Abdullah," and certainly “Dr. Muhammad Abdullah, LLD h.c.,” which I have seen a few times.

 Yet, adherence to this convention varies considerably across cultures and individuals.

Even in the United States, exceptions to the convention exist. A notable example involved a community college president in California who insisted on being addressed as "Dr." after being bestowed an honorary degree by an obscure institution. 

His pretension triggered a humorous protest from his staff, who collectively adopted "Dr." prefixes themselves, sarcastically citing equally obscure honors. Embarrassed, the president ultimately dropped his title.

Historical precedents further illustrate complexities surrounding honorary degrees and their usage. Benjamin Franklin, a foundational figure in American history whom many people outside America through the 100-dollar bill, embraced the title "Dr." purely on the strength of honorary degrees. 

Similarly, Maya Angelou, the renowned African-American poet and activist who had no formal higher education qualifications, insisted on being addressed as "Dr. Angelou" based on the numerous honorary doctoral degrees that several institutions bestowed on her.

In Nigeria, iconic historical figures have also prominently used honorary doctoral titles as if they earned them. Nnamdi Azikiwe, Nigeria's first ceremonial president, widely known as "Dr. Azikiwe," held no earned doctorate. He started his PhD at Columbia University in New York but didn’t complete it.

 Tai Solarin, a revered educational activist and social critic, similarly prefixed “Dr.” to his name based exclusively on honorary recognition. Unlike Azikiwe, he never even attempted earning a PhD.

These examples underscore the deep cultural and historical roots of the practice, which presents significant challenges to the enforcement of new regulations. Indeed, the cultural acceptance of using honorary titles as legitimate prefixes is deeply entrenched, complicating efforts by African higher education regulators to enforce their prohibitions effectively.

Nevertheless, the new regulatory frameworks in Ghana, Malawi, and Nigeria represent critical efforts toward reestablishing the integrity and credibility of academic distinctions. The explicit threat of legal action by Ghana’s GTEC signals a strong commitment to combating egregious abuses of honorary titles, potentially serving as a deterrent against future misuse.

Whether these measures will succeed remains uncertain, especially given the cultural resistance to its reform and the fact that it’s an entrenched practice. However, the very act of publicly addressing and legislatively confronting these abuses represents significant progress. Such regulatory actions signal a praiseworthy commitment to restoring academic prestige and integrity within higher education institutions across the continent.

Ultimately, the effectiveness of these regulations will hinge not just on enforcement but also on widespread public education and the promotion of genuine academic achievements. 

Universities must actively demonstrate the rigorous processes behind earned doctorates and highlight the scholarly dedication and intellectual rigor required. Only through a collective effort to valorize genuine academic accomplishments over superficial honors can the true prestige of doctoral titles be restored.