Osun State Library, Osogbo – a building so fine, so grand, standing tall in all its deceptive glory. From the outside, it whispers promises of knowledge, innovation, and intellectual wealth. But step inside, and you’ll find a shocking reality—this so-called ‘repository of knowledge’ is a graveyard of forgotten books and outdated wisdom. A library that should be a lighthouse of learning has turned into a relic of neglect, a classic case of “all that glitters is not gold.”
Established with much fanfare on April 29, 1994, and commissioned by His Excellency, Lt. Gen. Oladipo Diya, the Osun State Library was supposed to be a beacon of knowledge. Fast forward to 2025, and what do we have? A structure standing proud but an interior in ruins, much like a well-dressed man with an empty stomach.
Upon arrival at the so-called “headquarters of knowledge” at Oke Fia, Ilobu Road, Osogbo, The Nigeria Education News team was welcomed not by the aroma of fresh books or the hum of diligent research but by the eerie silence of an institution gasping for life. With doors opening at 8 AM and shutting at 6 PM daily (excluding Sundays), one would assume that within these hours, enlightenment would be in full swing. Alas, the library’s current state could make even a devoted bookworm lose appetite for reading.
The first shock came in the adult library room, which looked less like a knowledge hub and more like a museum of abandoned books. Engineering books were so outdated that even retired engineers would scoff at them. Mathematics books? They belong in a history class, not in the hands of a modern-day scholar. There were no books on Arabic or Hausa, leaving a major linguistic gap in a multicultural state. Spanish and Portuguese? Completely non-existent. How does a library claim to promote global education when it doesn’t even acknowledge multiple languages?
The science section was another tale of woe. Chemistry books were relics of the past, containing theories that have long been updated. Agricultural Sciences? Practically ignored. Architecture and Graphics Printmaking? Nowhere to be found. The absence of law books was particularly damning—how can a state function without accessible legal knowledge? As for English Literature, there were no books in line with the current curriculum, leaving students stranded in a sea of outdated content.
Even in specialized subjects, the library failed spectacularly. Paleontology had a grand total of five books—each old enough to be classified as fossils themselves. Manufacturing? Just one book, and even that was gathering dust. Customs, etiquette, and folklore? Apparently, cultural heritage is of no concern here.
If the book collection was a disappointment, the technological facilities were a full-blown disaster. The research room had been non-functional for over a year, and when we inquired about it, staff members could barely muster the courage to respond. The computers, if they can still be called that, were old desktop models from the early 2000s, sluggish and practically useless for any meaningful research.
Internet access? Forget it. There is no provision for Wi-Fi, When The Nigeria Education News inquired about internet services at the Osun State Library, the response from a staff member was both shocking and laughable. With a weary sigh, he admitted that internet access had ceased to function for the past two years, as if two years without digital connectivity in a supposed centre of learning was nothing to fuss about. When pressed for an alternative, his only suggestion was for visitors to bring their personal laptops and rely on their own mobile data because, unsurprisingly, the library had made no provision for public Wi-Fi.
In an era where access to online research materials is fundamental to education, the idea that a state-owned library operates with the assumption that every visitor comes prepared with their own internet source is absurd. This situation not only highlights the library’s technological backwardness but also underscores a glaring disconnect between the institution’s purpose and its actual functionality. It also mean that, students and researchers who bring their own laptops must rely on their mobile data—if they can afford it. This is a disgrace in an era where the internet is essential for academic research.
Power supply was another comedic tragedy. When the electricity went off during our visit, we naively asked if there was a generator to keep things running. The response? “Yes, but there’s no fuel.” So, visitors are expected to simply wait and pray for power restoration. A library without electricity is like a car without fuel—it’s there, but it’s not going anywhere.
The biggest irony of all? The Osun State Government constantly preaches its commitment to education, yet this decaying institution stands just 1km away from the Governor’s House. For two years, the Governor has been in power, yet he has not set foot in this library. If education was truly a priority, he would have noticed this mess and done something about it.
The reality is simple: this library is an intellectual wasteland. It is not merely underwhelming; it is an insult to the very idea of learning. A state that claims to value education cannot afford to let its flagship library rot into irrelevance.
Imagine a determined student, brimming with ambition, stepping into the Osun State Library with hopes of accessing a treasure trove of knowledge, only to be greeted by books so outdated they predate Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. Picture a diligent researcher, eager to push the boundaries of academia, only to find themselves stranded in a sea of dusty, obsolete materials, with computers that belong in a museum and an internet connection that has been nonexistent for two years. This is not just an oversight; it is a betrayal of intellectual progress. A library is meant to be a sanctuary of learning, a gateway to innovation, and a hub for academic advancement—yet, what we have here is the complete opposite. It is an institution frozen in time, abandoned to decay, and rendered useless by years of neglect. This is not just a failing library; it is an outright crime against education, a systemic sabotage of knowledge, and an indictment on those entrusted with the future of learning in Osun State.
The Osun State Government has no excuse. This library is not hidden away in a remote village; it is in the state capital, just a stone’s throw from the seat of power. If the government cannot fix a library within walking distance of its house, what hope is there for the rest of the state’s educational system?
The era of excuses is long gone—what Osun State Library needs is not patchwork fixes or half-hearted interventions, but a full-scale revival. The shelves must be stocked with up-to-date books across all fields, research facilities must be restored to full functionality, and reliable internet access must become a standard feature, not a luxury. Without these, the library remains a mere shell of what it should be, a mockery of its own purpose. Education is the backbone of any progressive society, and a library is its beating heart. Right now, Osun State Library isn’t just struggling—it is flatlining.
A library that cannot provide knowledge is like a hospital without medicine, a market without goods, or a school without teachers. The time to act is now. If we fail to resuscitate this institution, we might as well engrave its name on the list of abandoned dreams and lost priorities
