Nigerian universities and the challenge of producing industry-ready graduates

CHUKS OLUIGBO

Nigeria’s university education system is faulty. Employers and human resources experts have been saying so. The system, they say, has failed to equip graduates with the right skills suited for today’s work environment. Today’s organisations hire people to perform specific tasks that help them in achieving their business goals. They don’t want graduates that parade just certificates, but graduates with the right working skills who can contribute to the development of the organisation. They want technical competence; they also want candidates properly equipped with complementary skills such as problem-solving ability, interpersonal skills, effective communication skills (oral and written), reflective and critical thinking ability, organising skills and ability to translate ideas to action.

Unfortunately, the average graduate of a Nigerian university lacks most of these skills. That is why we often hear employers lament that Nigerian graduates are unemployable. But the graduate is not totally to blame. What skills are Nigerian university teachers imparting? What skills do they themselves possess? Do they have a mindset different from civil servants in government ministries, departments and agencies? Of course, you cannot pluck palm fruits from an orange tree. And so, year-in year-out, the Nigerian university system churns out graduates without the requisite skills to fit into today’s challenging work environment.

One basic reason for this is that not much of teaching is going on in our universities today, due largely to the quality of teachers. The quality of teachers in the universities has dropped considerably. The old system whereby best graduating students in each department were retained as graduate assistants has been discontinued in virtually all the universities. As such, these would-have-been great academics find their way out of the education system and, in many cases, out of the country where they make immense contributions, while the average or below average graduates, failing to find jobs elsewhere, return to the university to get higher degrees and become university teachers. Niyi Osundare, professor of English at University of New Orleans, USA, captures the situation more succinctly: “The students we are producing now are half-baked not because they lack potential, but because those potentials are never actualised. It’s high time we began to examine those that are teaching in our university system. Mediocre teachers will always produce mediocre students. It is a logical process. Unless those students are lucky or they are extraordinary and so decide to learn beyond their teachers. Effective, conscientious teaching is vanishing from our universities.”

Another angle to the problem is that many university teachers do not bother to update their knowledge. How much research, for instance, is going on in our universities today? The truth is that many of our university teachers do not embark on any research. If they ever do, it’s for selfish reasons: for journal publications so that they can get promoted (the age-long “publish or perish” syndrome) – it’s nothing that benefits the students, nothing that benefits the society. And so, in this age of information revolution, university teachers keep regurgitating to students the selfsame notes they themselves had received as undergraduates ages ago, as though in slavish obedience to a certain cast-in-stone code: add nothing, remove nothing. The argument about government not funding research enough may well be valid, and one can’t excuse government’s dereliction of duty, but what have the university teachers done with the little that’s been available over the years?

Added to the above is the obvious lack of communication between the university (the gown) and the larger society (the town). Nigerian universities operate like islands – except, of course, when they demand better welfare from government, like now that ASUU is on strike. They don’t know what the society needs and so fail to tailor their curriculum accordingly. For instance, of what use have the tonnes of term papers, degree projects, Masters and PhD theses on varied subjects produced by students on a yearly basis been to industry, to society? How have these research works aided government in its policy formulations? None whatsoever. Instead, these efforts, every passing day, continue to gather dust in library shelves that even subsequent students don’t bother to visit – probably of their utter irrelevance. But these research projects can become relevant if they focus on particular problems that industry seeks solution to, and industry can actually sponsor such research works – for its own good.

There is, therefore, an urgent need for a thorough review of the entire system, not just the regular surface scratching. For instance, changing the Department of History to Department of History and International Studies, or the Department of Archaeology to Department of Archaeology and Tourism Studies without commensurate change in the course content or in the requisite skills of those who teach the courses is like pouring old, soured wine into a new wineskin: the sour taste remains. You have merely exchanged a monkey for a baboon. So, for any real change to happen, it’s the curriculum, not the name, that needs to change.

To achieve this, the gown and the town must communicate effectively to arrive at course content that meets society’s immediate and long-term needs. As Babatunde Fashola, Lagos State governor, rightly said in his speech at the Lagos State University (LASU) on June 6, 2013 to mark his 2200 days in office: “Our human resource is the most important resource we have and will ever have. Our students in tertiary institutions are in the generation right behind us. They are the ones who are being prepared for the job market and leadership responsibility. They are the ones who will replace me and the commissioners, the permanent secretaries, the legislators and the judges, indeed the entire public service. They are the ones who in a short time will bear the responsibility to refine our crude oil, generate our electricity, produce our water, manage this university, build our trains, secure our state and country and generally be responsible for our people’s well-being. All of these will happen very soon. The question then is this: Do these leaders in waiting and in training understand what we are doing? Do they understand why we are doing it? What are the choices of study that they themselves have made? Why did they make them? Does our society still require those skills they are learning? Is there an inherent flaw in the training we are offering in a way that it does not connect with our societal needs? Why do we have so much to do in our country and yet still have so many unemployed people?”

Therefore, as a way of bridging this gown-town divide, universities need to begin, from time to time, to invite industry experts to interact with both students and lecturers to share on-the-field experiences. There is no reason, for instance, why a fellow who has spent a lifetime in a particular industry, say, automobile, cannot get a place as adjunct professor in the Mechanical Engineering department of a Nigerian university. For all you care, such a fellow sharing hands-on experience with students might have greater impact than a professor’s whole semester’s lecture notes.

Finally, aside from interacting with the rest of society to ascertain their needs, our university teachers need to constantly update themselves with the latest developments in their fields of specialisation through research, conferences, workshops, etc. This is the only way they and the graduates they produce can remain relevant in an ever-changing world.

The art and business of shoemaking in Nigeria

All across the country, Nigerian cobblers are making exquisite pieces that are competing favourably with footwear manufactured in any part of the world in quality, design and patronage, writes CHUKS OLUIGBO

Tunji Oriade likes to dress classy, always a cynosure of all eyes. This Monday morning is no exception. As he walks through the expansive waiting lounge into his office dressed in his signature white shirt, red tie, dark suit, and shiny dark shoes, all eyes are on him, eyes shiny with admiration. But what catches the most attention to this young, fast-rising executive are his shiny dark shoes branded ‘Made-in-Italy’. Many of his colleagues imagine the huge amount he must have coughed out for the obviously high-quality shoes. However, it is only Oriade and his shoemaker that know that the shoes are not that expensive, nor are they from Italy or any foreign country for that matter; they are made in Nigeria by Nigerians.

Like Oriade, many upper and middle class Nigerians are increasingly patronising made-in-Nigeria footwear disguised as foreign shoes, consciously or unconsciously. All across the country Nigerian shoemakers are manufacturing exquisite pieces that are of equal – or sometimes even higher quality – with shoes manufactured in any part of the world.

Favour Adekola, a banker who resides in Ikeja, says she gets most of her shoes from a local shoemaker in her area. She, however, adds that she does not reveal the true source of her lovely shoes to anyone in her office for fear of being laughed at, reason being that most of her colleagues claim they are in love with Italian shoes and can’t wear made-in-Nigeria. “But the reality of the matter,” says Adekola, “is that there is truly no difference between what I wear and their so-called Italian designs. In fact, they are even the ones who most of the times turn around to admire my shoes and ask for the source. Sometimes it occurs to me they might as well be wearing repackaged made-in-Nigeria in the name of Italian designs.”

Indeed, the business of shoemaking in Nigeria is becoming a lucrative one. Nigerians today have increasingly shown keen interest in locally produced shoes and are beginning to patronise them instead of foreign-made shoes or second-hand imported shoes.

“Shoemaking business seems to be generally lucrative because everybody wears shoes,” says Okechukwu Ude, a lawyer who resides in Festac, Lagos. “The demand is continuous as no one can leave their house without wearing something on their feet. And some people can change their shoes every now and then. This is especially true of women who want a different pair of shoes for every single dress in their wardrobe.”

Before now, shoemakers in Nigeria relied on locally sourced materials. That was in the boom days of the leather industry in Kano, northern Nigeria. The supply chain was such that the wholesalers, who were mainly based in Onitsha, went to Kano to get the supply; dealers in Aba would then go to Onitsha to get their supply; and people from other parts, including Lagos, would then go to Aba. And Aba and Kano were known as epicentres of local shoe production.

In a 2012 article, Salisu Ibrahim refers to Dukawa and Kofar Wambai quarters in Kano Metropolis which have been known for shoemaking from time immemorial. Here, according to him, the youths pride themselves with shoemaking business, and observers believe there is no household which does not engage, one way or another, in the production of shoes and car seat covers or both. Products made in Kofar Wambai include various high quality leather shoes ranging from styles made for royalties, sandals for men and women, and different styles of cover shoes of different leather designs and quality.

Raw materials for the industry, Ibrahim reports, were normally sourced locally. Then, animal skins were processed locally into leather. However, things seem to be changing as the products are now processed and manufactured abroad, and many local shoemakers now have to source their materials from abroad. This has somehow apparently sidelined these artisans, and as these products are imported back into the country, their prices have become exorbitant.

But in spite of these challenges, the youths of the area are not daunted. "Our people are very hardworking; they are fully occupied, they have been producing shoes as was the practice by our forefathers and we are ready to continue with it in spite of the challenges," Ibrahim quotes Muhammad Awwal, chairman of Shoemaking Multipurpose Cooperative Society in the area, as  saying.

Simon-Peter Ogbede, director of Storms Climax Cobblers, Lagos, says he sources his materials from abroad. “Most of our materials come from abroad, mostly from Italy and Spain. We prefer these foreign materials because they are of better quality than the local ones. Some also come from China, but they are usually of lesser quality,” he says.

Ogbede, who is also the chairman of Young Cobblers Association in the Ojo area of Lagos, has been in the business of shoemaking for 18 years. However, according to him, he seems to have been born with the skill. He says he began practicing with his father’s old boots in the military barracks in his junior secondary school days. He would cut the boots into tiny pieces and then try to produce slippers or sandals with the pieces using condemned soles.

But there are still smaller practitioners in the industry who cannot as yet afford the foreign materials. One of such is Ahmed Oniyide, 24, who runs a small cobbling outfit in the Ojo area of Lagos. Someday, Oniyide hopes to grow big and register his proposed business name, Ahmzy Pumping Shoe Cobbler Built Boutique, with the Corporate Affairs Commission. But until then, he would have to continue buying his raw materials from Sadiku, Mushin. “That is where we buy our materials from. The dealers at Mushin in turn get their supplies from Aba. Besides Mushin, there are other smaller markets in Lagos where these materials are sold, but Mushin is the central market,” he tells me.

While many Nigerians still think that foreign-branded shoes are of better quality than Nigerian-made shoes, Ogbede says such people are deluding themselves. “Many of the so-called foreign shoes in the Nigerian market today are actually made in Nigeria, but we label them made in Italy or Spain for easy marketing. You know, our people are obsessed with so-called foreign products,” he explains.

“Similarly, most of the shoes that come from Dubai are made in Nigeria and sent to Dubai where they are somehow retouched and shipped back to this place. I have had to supply shoes, Pam slippers and sandals to friends who came from Dubai, UK and the US.”

The locally produced shoes, Ogbede says, have an advantage over the foreign ones, which makes it possible for the local shoes to outperform those from other countries. “We use the same quality of materials that they use in Italy and Spain. In fact, there is even no way of distinguishing between our products and the ones that come from abroad in terms of design and quality, but the advantage we have over them is that we understand the terrain better, so we adapt our products to local conditions. For instance, the soles they use in Italy cannot survive our rainy environment, but ours do,” he says, adding that he gives at least one-year guarantee on his shoes.

As the quality of these locally-made shoes improves, the patronage too is increasing. Even though a good number of Nigerians still complain that locally-made shoes are not there yet in terms of finishing, quality of materials, durability and glamour, many are beginning to think otherwise and are increasing their patronage for local shoes.

“A lot of Nigerians are beginning to realise that these Nigeria-made shoes also have very good quality and they are patronising us. I, for instance, supply to some boutiques and shops around, but they are the ones who make the gain. Because they know these shoes are made here, they price them very low, then go to their shops and sell at the same rate with the imported ones.” He, however, admits that the industry is not there yet. “At the individual level, many of us are still struggling. The government should in fact give out grants in form of machinery which we need for the work. So far, there has not been any form of government encouragement.”

But in spite of the bottlenecks, the future looks bright for the footwear industry in Nigeria, and Ogbede is confident that the country will soon take over the African shoe market. “Most African countries are using made-in-Nigeria shoes at the moment. I see Nigeria actually taking over the industry from Italy. The only problem currently is that the quality of some of our products is still very poor because of cost. Government needs to really help us. They need to come up with policies to protect the local shoe industry as well as organise exhibitions or establish shoe markets where we can showcase our fantastic products. Left to us, we might not be able to do these things on our own.”

Ogbede is not alone in this optimism. Tai Dehtiar, award-winning Canadian entrepreneur and a recipient of the Ontario Global Trade Award, who is famous globally for his footwear, Oliberte©, told young Nigerian entrepreneurs during his visit to Nigeria in 2011 to explore the idea of manufacturing local shoes for the Nigerian market, saying the market for shoes is so large considering the nation’s growing population. Dehtiar spoke at a forum organised by the Canadian High Commission in collaboration with the Nigerian Economic Summit Group (NESG).

Oniyide, too, is certain that Nigerian shoes can dominate the African shoe market if given the right push. “Why not?” he asks. “We have the quality, we have the designs, and our products are accepted both here and abroad.”

But while Ogbede is asking for government to organise exhibitions, some Nigerian footwear makers are already utilising online platforms to showcase their products. The site http://www.vconnect.com/nigeria, for instance, provides the following list of footwear manufacturers in Nigeria: Bimbo African Enterprises, Palmgrove, Lagos; Last Born Footwear Designer, Ogun State; Ata Gungun Productions, Ketu, Lagos; Oluwadamilare Shoe Works, Egbeda, Oyo State; O James Footwear, Ajegunle, Lagos; Itosco Shoe Works, Calabar, Cross Rivers State; Tomrhy Footwears, Ajao Estate, Lagos; Ben Michael Shoes, Bariga, Lagos; and Bis Place Shoes, Surulere, Lagos.

How much these local products are sold for, practitioners say, varies from shoemaker to shoemaker and depends on a number of factors – the shoemaker’s expertise, the value he places on his services, his location, the financial status of his clientele, and his strategy. “For me, it depends on quality. Here, you can get a pair of quality shoes between N4,000 and N6,000 or more; sandals sell for N2,000 and above, while slippers sell for N1,500 and above – everything depends on quality of material used,” says Ogbede.

But overall, as Bamidele Omeiza, creative director, Bambata Footwear & Accessories, tells Olaoluwa Mimiola in a report, “Footwear making industry is, and will always remain, a good business with enviable financial rewards.”

Many industry practitioners are agreed that footwear-making business requires a lot of creativity, artistry and energy. Yet, whether artistic or not, the skills can be acquired by anyone who puts keen interest. But how long the training takes also depends on how creative the individual is. Oniyide, for instance, does not see himself as born with the creative talent needed for this kind of trade, but he has learnt over time. However, he says he did four years of apprenticeship and another six months of serving his trainer before he could stand on his own.

For Ogbede, who has trained many in the trade, it could take an average of six months to learn how to make slippers and sandals, but for shoes and boots, belts and bags, it could take at least three years. “However,” he adds, “for a very creative individual who also learns very fast, the time can be much more reduced. I, for instance, learnt the basics within one week because I had already been practicing with odds and ends.”

It’s relatively cheap to enter the business of footwear making, Oniyide tells me. With as little as N80,000 to N100,000, one can set up a small shop. This is excluding the shop rent and cost of training, which varies depending on who is training you and the skills you want to acquire. The basic equipment needed by a beginner include sewing machine (industrial or manual), filing machine, adhesive gum, scissors, shoe-lass, hammer, pliers, etc, in addition to materials like leather, soles, lining, hollow punch, etc.

Indeed, locally-made shoes are here to stay. And they are ubiquitous – in high-class boutiques, in supermarkets, in the open market. So, when next you buy a pair of Storms Collections shoes branded ‘Made in Italy’, don’t be deceived, you are actually buying made in Nigeria.

On creative writing workshops in Nigeria

Creative writing workshops have flourished in the country in the past few years. CHUKS OLUIGBO writes that these workshops, since inception, have equipped aspiring writers with necessary tools to pursue and realise their dreams

While flipping through the pages of a national newspaper one misty evening in May 2010, Stanley Azuakola, then an undergraduate student of University of Benin, stumbles on an ad announcing the 2010 Fidelity Bank Creative Writing Workshop to be facilitated by Helon Habila, Nigeria-born award-winning author and Creative Writing teacher at George Mason University, Virginia, USA. Habila, the ad says, is to be assisted by Madeleine Thien, an Asian-Canadian novelist, and Tsitsi Dangeremgba, a Zimbabwean screenwriter.

Burning with zeal to be part of the workshop, which he sees as a great opportunity to network as well as learn from the experts and fine-tune the budding writing talent in him, Azuakola quickly goes into his bank of short stories, picks one that he thinks is his best, which is also within the 800-word limit specified by the ad, and quickly sends it to the email address provided. Weeks later, he receives a reply informing him that he is one of the 20, out of over 1,000 young Nigerians that applied, selected to participate in the workshop.

And so, from July 16 through 22, Azuakola sat at Gracepoint Resort Hotel, Wuse, Abuja, 9am to 6pm daily, with 19 other aspiring writers from across the country, listening, reading, learning, interacting, sharing, exchanging ideas, experimenting, and battling with numerous writing exercises – with the trio of Helon, Madeleine and Tsitsi mentoring.

Today, three years down the line, Azuakola, who says the week at the Fidelity Creative Writing Workshop was his first time to physically be in the same room with writers, whether established or aspiring, tells me the experience remains one of the most enjoyable, memorable and impactful in his life. “These days I write more of non-fiction pieces, but the influence of that one week always shines through in my work as a reporter, columnist and editor. From the minutiae like being more aware of the common mistakes young (and old) writers make to the more nuanced issues like knowing how to creatively arrange a piece, the experience has always come in handy. There's also the aspect of the solid network of like-minded people built as a result of the one week encounter. More than anything for me, however, the biggest gain was what it did to my mind. Listening to and learning from those award-winning authors in an exclusive environment did something to the way I saw the world and my place in it as a writer. It's hard to describe, but suddenly I could see possibilities more clearly,” he says.

Like Azuakola, many aspiring writers in Nigeria are availing themselves of the opportunity provided by creative writing workshops to rediscover, brush up, fine-tune and polish their raw creative writing talents.

The first celebrated creative writing workshop in the country in recent memory, a collaboration between Farafina and Fidelity Bank, was held in 2007. Facilitated by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, award-winning author of Purple Hibiscus and other novels, that pioneer class had the likes of Uche Peter Umez, Jumoke Verissimo, Eghosa Imasuen, Tolu Ogunlesi, among others. The primary goal of the workshop was to improve the craft of writers and to encourage published and unpublished writers by bringing different perspectives to the art of storytelling.

While Farafina has gone ahead with the Farafina Trust Creative Writing Workshop, supported by Nigerian Breweries plc since 2009 (with an initial donation of N7 million that year), Fidelity Bank shortly began a separate workshop. Both workshops have trained many aspiring writers every year since inception, and have attracted facilitators such as Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina, Aminatta Forna, Sally Keith, Chika Unigwe (winner of the 2012 Nigeria LNG Prize for Literature), South African writer Niq Mhlongo, Ghanaian writer Ama Ata Aidoo, etc.

The workshops usually take the form of a class, where participants are assigned a wide range of reading exercises, as well as daily writing exercises. The participants are expected to receive sufficient training in the art of creative writing so that they could, in the long run, contribute meaningfully to the development of literature in this part of the world.

In his message to the 2012 class of Farafina Trust Creative Writing Workshop, the managing director/CEO of Nigerian Breweries plc, Nicolaas Vervelde, said the workshop has impacted on Nigerian writing positively. “I have no doubt that this special workshop has helped in no small way to improve the skills of Nigerian writers, as well as encouraged both published and unpublished writers by giving them a platform to fulfil the urge for self-expression. I believe our mutual objective is being realised as the creative writers’ workshop continues to attract huge interest within and outside of Nigeria…. It is our hope that the writers that have emerged from this workshop will have the potential to become future Nobel laureates in literature,” he said.

And indeed, some success stories have been recorded from the workshops. These would include Uche Peter Umez, Eghosa Imasuen, Jumoke Verissimo, Jude Dibia, Tolu Ogunlesi, Nze Sylva Ifedigbo, A. Igoni Barret, Gimba Kakanda, Richard Ali, Chinyere Iwuala Obi-Obasi, Ifesinachi Okoli, Fred Chiagozie Nwonwu, among others.

Uche Umez tells me that the writing workshops he attended have impacted on his writing career in many ways. “First, you are made to realise writing is an art that demands passion, discipline and hard work. Secondly, you can’t be a good writer if you don’t read widely,” he says.

He re-echoes what Reginald Ihejiahi, managing director/CEO of Fidelity Bank, told the 2012 set of Fidelity Bank Workshop participants: “You need to learn. If you don’t read enough, you’re not likely going to write well.” And these workshops are providing that opportunity for aspiring Nigerian writers to read, learn, and better themselves.

Assessing his progress since after the first workshop, Umez says it has been steady, adding, however, that he’s still a work-in-progress. He adds, “I needed the experience at the time, and for every writer, any experience, however little, is integral to their development.”

And truly, Umez has made steady progress, putting his workshop experiences to practice through hard work. Today, even though he tells Henry Onyema in an interview that he doesn’t think prizes define the strength of Nigerian literature, Umez has gone on to win several literary laurels, including ANA/Funtime Prize for Children's Literature, 2007 and 2008 (with Sam and the Wallet and The Christmas Gift, respectively); laureate, UNESCO-Aschberg, Sanskriti Kendra, India (2009); winner, Bath Spa Creative Writing Competition, UK; and his short stories have been highly commended in the Commonwealth Short Story Competition. He was the runner-up for the 2007 Nigeria LNG Prize for Literature, where he was shortlisted alongside Mabel Segun and Akachi Ezeigbo, two Nigerian literary giants. His Runaway Hero also made the shortlist for the 2011 LNG prize.

Like Umez, Tolu Ogunlesi, another success story, agrees that writing workshops have proved to be invaluable opportunities for inspiration and networking, and they have also helped him build communities he can reach out to for guidance in his writing career. Yet, he does not think he can directly connect his career progress with the workshops he has attended. “I don't think workshops help people win awards. And they certainly can't turn non-writers into writers,” he tells me.

And he may be right, considering that there are also many others who have participated in some of these writing workshops over the years but have not found – and may never find – a foothold in the writing world. Of course, as always, many are called but few are chosen.

Could he have done without the workshop experience then? “Yes, absolutely,” Ogunlesi says. “I think I could have done without a workshop experience. Workshops are not magic wands. They're useful opportunities, no doubt, but they're not indispensable.”

He also believes that writing workshops should be encouraged. “Writing is often a solitary task. Writers need the communities and networks and inspiration that workshops help produce/provide. I think we can never have too many of them, especially in Nigeria where writing courses and publication outlets (periodicals) are not as common as they should be.”

Besides the two major writing workshops in the country, other workshops have also sprung up. Abuja Writers’ Forum (AWF), led by Emman Usman Shehu, for instance, has in recent times been organising series of creative writing workshops on all genres of literature.

Azuakola also makes a case for the encouragement of writing workshops in the country. Even though he believes he might have been able to pursue his writing dream with or without a workshop, he does not doubt that writing workshops are relevant and perform a very useful service not just to the individual writers like him who are privileged to participate, but also for the Nigerian literary community which looks forward yearly to these workshops. “We also must not forget that lots of outstanding writers have passed through the workshops and have gone on to produce brilliant works. Whereas some may still have pursued their dreams to fruition without passing through the workshops, for most others, the workshops served as the boost, the catalyst and the smoothener,” he says.

For Okechukwu Egboluche, an aspiring writer, who has applied for writing workshops in the past, creative writing workshops are necessary because learning is an ongoing process, especially for writers. “Nobody has a monopoly of knowledge,” he says. “Creative writing workshop gives budding writers the opportunity to learn new tips from established writers. It is also an opportunity to interact and network with other budding writers too. Iron sharpens iron. Interacting with like minds in the course of the workshop and even after the workshop would help writers to remain committed and improve in the craft. For a writer who is still trying to grow in the craft to interact one-on-one with writers that have made their mark and are still waxing strong in the craft, like Chimamanda Adichie, Helon Habila, Binyavanga Wainaina, Madeliene Thien, etc, is enough motivation that would enable them to do more to succeed.”

He further says that much as Creative Writing is a discipline studied in higher institutions, even though not yet available in the country, many writers succeed not because of their discipline but because of their talent and commitment to it. Thus, for him, writers like him who did not study Creative Writing or Literature see creative writing workshops as an opportunity to learn the nitty-gritty of writing.

This is exactly what Helon Habila, himself multiple award-winning author of Waiting for an Angel, Measuring Time and other great books, has consistently told participants at his workshops over the years: There is no university in Nigeria offering degree programme in Creative Writing. Creative writing workshops, therefore, are one way of getting skills in creative writing in the country, and those who are lucky to be selected should consider it a privilege.