When a noble policy meets an Ill-timed execution: Saving the soul of the book business
By Olufemi Ogunyejo
Policies are like seeds. When planted in fertile ground and watered with care, they bloom into a lush harvest of progress.
When dropped hastily on barren soil, however, they wither, leaving behind frustration instead of fruit. Such is the dilemma Nigeria’s book industry now faces with the federal government’s newly restructured educational policy.
On the surface, the restructuring of the educational curriculum is a welcome development, an ambitious, progressive attempt to modernise learning, align standards, and revitalise the future of our children.
The government deserves applause for the vision. Indeed, any move to reposition our schools for global competitiveness should ordinarily be celebrated with fanfare. But like rain in the middle of harvest, the timing of this reform is wreaking unintended havoc.
The ministry of education’s announcement, which redefines the structure of primary and secondary schooling, came with little sensitization, inadequate consultation, and virtually no road map for implementation.
For stakeholders, publishers, booksellers, printers, authors, teachers, and school owners, the policy descended like a thunderclap on a clear day. The result? Confusion, uproar, and an economic tremor across the entire book ecosystem.
Even before the ink dried on the circular, many schools began rejecting textbooks already supplied for the 2025/2026 academic year, insisting instead on books written to reflect the “new curriculum.”
The irony? At the time of the announcement, the revised curriculum itself was not yet available to guide authors and publishers in developing these materials. How does one build a house without a blueprint?
Behind every glossy textbook lies millions of naira in investment, often financed with bank loans. Publishers pour resources into research, writing, editing, printing, and distribution, long before sales trickle in.
With this abrupt shift, thousands of unsold copies now languish in warehouses like orphaned children. The financial haemorrhage is real. Some small and medium-scale publishers may never recover.
Booksellers too are stranded. Having stocked shelves with recommended titles, they now watch helplessly as schools and parents walk away empty-handed, unwilling to “waste” money on books that might soon be obsolete. Printers, who had just finished massive runs for the new academic session, are equally hit. Machines that roared with activity two months ago now hum with uncertainty.
And what of parents? Already battered by economic hardship, many are confused, reluctant to purchase textbooks that could soon be discarded. In living rooms across the country, conversations echo with worry: Should we buy? Should we wait? Should we protest?
At the heart of this storm are school owners and administrators. Like captains handed a new compass mid-voyage, they find themselves navigating in circles. Should they continue with the old scheme until new books arrive? Should they design stopgap teaching notes? Or should they raise fees to absorb the shocks? In this vacuum of clarity, classrooms become theatres of uncertainty, and learners, the very beneficiaries of the policy, bear the cost.
No policy exists in isolation. A government that appears insensitive to economic realities risks eroding the trust of its citizens. Though the restructuring agenda is noble, its ill-timed rollout paints policymakers as detached from the ecosystem that must translate their vision into reality. To many observers, it seems like an attempt to cure one ailment by inflicting another. Two wrongs, as the saying goes, do not make a right.
Yet, all hope is not lost. The book industry is not a mere cluster of businesses; it is the lifeblood of education itself. Authors, publishers, booksellers, printers, and librarians must not retreat into silence.
They must rise, engage, and enlighten the public on the ripple effects of this policy. Silence will only deepen the confusion. Dialogue, on the other hand, can birth solutions.
Likewise, the Ministry of Education must urgently engage stakeholders in a roundtable. The success of any reform depends not on the beauty of its design but on the inclusivity of its implementation. Policies cannot be served like surprise meals; they must be cooked in the open kitchen of dialogue. As the proverb goes, it takes two to tango.
If government is to restore sanity to our schools and confidence to our business owners, it must quickly.
1. Clarify timelines for the rollout of the new curriculum.
2. Provide interim guidelines for schools and publishers to avoid disruption.
3. Offer economic relief measures for businesses already hit by losses.
4. Institutionalize stakeholder engagement before future circulars are issued.
The way forward: As a publishing scholar, I cannot remain indifferent. I see, first-hand, the ripple effects of this anomaly on our fragile education system. The attempt to solve one problem, the need for curriculum reform, has inadvertently created another: economic dislocation and confusion in learning delivery. This is akin to trying to extinguish a fire by flooding the house, only to leave the structure uninhabitable.
The federal government deserves commendation for its vision, but vision without preparation is like a lamp without oil, it flickers, but it cannot light the path. Let this be a wake-up call: progress is not only about policies crafted in conference rooms but also about timing, consultation, and sensitivity to those whose livelihoods depend on their execution.
If this restructuring is to truly uplift our education sector, government and stakeholders must walk hand in hand, not step on each other’s toes. After all, education is too sacred a pillar to gamble with; it is the very soul of our soul of our nation’s future.
Olufemi Timothy Ogunyejo is a Ph.D. student in publishing and copyright studies
