Nigeria’s First Lady, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, has made an unusual and symbolic appeal ahead of her 65th birthday, which falls on Sunday, September 21, 2025. Rather than receive gifts, flowers, cakes, or elaborate newspaper tributes, she has asked well-wishers to channel their gestures of goodwill into donations for the completion of the long-abandoned National Library of Nigeria project. The initiative, coordinated under what has been titled the Oluremi at 65 Education Fund, seeks to revive a project that has lingered for decades despite its national importance.
In her words, “By the grace of God, I will be turning 65 years old on the 21st of September 2025. I have decided to dedicate the day to God for all His blessings in my life and to have a quiet birthday. I wish to appeal to those who would like to send a birthday card, cakes, flowers, greetings in the newspapers, or gifts. Instead, kindly send funds to the designated account for the completion of the National Library. This will be the best birthday present I could receive.” She explained that her lifelong passion for education drives her to dedicate her milestone birthday to this cause.
The fund is coordinated by the Federal Ministry of Education in partnership with Zenith Bank, where a special account has been opened. The First Lady further stressed transparency and accountability, urging Nigerians to see the project as a national duty rather than a personal favor to her. To her, this library represents not just infrastructure, but the preservation of the nation’s intellectual heritage.
The National Library of Nigeria, founded in 1964, was envisioned as the country’s knowledge hub and apex reference center. It was designed to serve as a national repository of recorded knowledge, a place where students, researchers, and policy makers could access both local and international scholarship. However, more than six decades later, that vision remains largely unfulfilled.
In February 2025, The Nigeria Education News conducted an on-the-ground investigation of the National Library headquarters in Abuja, and the findings were disturbing. The library’s Area 2, Garki branch paints a grim picture of neglect and abandonment. Far from being a sanctuary of knowledge, the dull infrastructure, dusty and outdated bookshelves, and underwhelming reading rooms make it resemble a forgotten warehouse.
In an age where technology drives education, the so-called “research room” at the Abuja library is a national embarrassment. It boasts fewer than ten computers, many of them outdated. For a country of over 200 million people aspiring to digital literacy and global competitiveness, such inadequacy makes the institution look like a shadow of its intended purpose.
This disheartening situation becomes even more glaring when compared with global benchmarks. The Library of Congress in the United States, the British Library in London, and the Bibliothèque Nationale de France are not only treasure troves of books but also hubs of culture, technology, and research. The British Library alone houses over 170 million items and provides advanced digital access to scholars worldwide. In contrast, Nigeria’s National Library struggles to meet the needs of even a small community.
Such disparities raise questions about Nigeria’s priorities in education. While other nations invest heavily in libraries as symbols of enlightenment and cultural pride, Nigeria’s own National Library stands as a symbol of bureaucratic delay, poor funding, and national neglect. The gap is not just architectural; it is a painful metaphor for the country’s struggle to keep pace with global educational standards.
Our investigations also took us to the Ilorin Branch of the National Library in Kwara State. The branch, situated in the state capital, presents a mixed picture of modest service and glaring infrastructural shortcomings. Unlike standard national libraries, the Ilorin branch operates from a single multipurpose hall where administration, cataloguing, and reading take place side by side.
Visitors to the Ilorin branch are welcomed at a basic reception desk. Registration is free, but no membership cards are issued, and there is no structured borrowing system. All books must be read on-site, limiting users who might need extended access. While the simplicity appears user-friendly, it underscores the absence of an organized, professional system of library administration.
The library’s entire collection is compressed into just five shelves, with a limited range of books across Law, History, Education, Technology, Humanities, and Social Sciences. Reference materials and General Studies texts are also crammed into this inadequate layout. Scholars searching for specialized resources would be sorely disappointed.
Worse still, the Ilorin branch lacks internet services, computers, and functional toilets—basic facilities expected of any 21st-century knowledge center. The only relief comes from ceiling fans and a relatively stable power supply, though the lack of air conditioning makes the hall stifling during hot afternoons, discouraging extended study sessions.
On the day of our visit, the hall was nearly deserted. By noon, only three patrons were present, suggesting that the poor infrastructure has alienated users. A national library is supposed to inspire engagement, yet Ilorin’s facility repels rather than attracts.
The staffing situation is equally concerning. Most of the administrative functions were handled by SIWES and internship students, while regular staff were either absent or disengaged. The interns, though eager, often disrupted the reading environment with chatter, undermining the core principle of a library as a quiet space for concentration.
The absence of proper office demarcations meant that cataloguing, administration, and user services all occurred within earshot of readers. This created a chaotic and distracting environment, reflecting poor architectural planning and operational inefficiency.
The Ilorin branch may still serve basic educational purposes, but its limitations stand in stark contradiction to the National Library’s stated goals: to promote a reading culture, support academic research, and preserve knowledge for posterity. Without modern infrastructure and digital access, these goals remain unachievable.
The contrast between Nigeria’s National Library and global exemplars reveals an urgent need for a complete overhaul. Education and research cannot thrive in an environment where knowledge repositories are outdated and unattractive. The National Library project, especially its uncompleted Abuja headquarters, must become a top priority for government, private sector stakeholders, and philanthropists.
This is where Oluremi Tinubu’s intervention becomes significant. By linking her 65th birthday to the revival of the National Library, she has set an example for leaders to channel personal milestones into national development causes. Her campaign emphasizes that libraries are not luxuries but necessities for nation-building.
Her appeal also raises a deeper question for the Nigerian society: Can the country truly expect its youths to thrive globally without investing in proper educational infrastructure? If Nigeria continues to sideline such projects, it risks further intellectual marginalization. However, if the First Lady’s vision inspires action, the National Library could transform from a symbol of decay into a beacon of renewal.
As her 65th birthday approaches, Nigerians will be watching to see whether this initiative attracts the needed support. If successful, it may not only complete a long-forgotten national project but also ignite a broader movement to rescue Nigeria’s educational infrastructure from decades of neglect. For Senator Oluremi Tinubu, dedicating her birthday to this cause is both a personal vow and a national challenge, a call for every Nigerian to invest in the country’s intellectual future.
