In Nigeria’s turbulent political landscape, few issues spark as much public outrage as questions about the authenticity of academic certificate. At the centre of the latest storm stands Uche Geoffrey Nnaji, former Minister of Science, Technology and Innovation, whose academic records from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN) and the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) have generated heated national debate. Yet beyond the sensational headlines lies a sobering reality: this controversy exposes once again how easily questions of truth, record-keeping, and integrity can blur when politics and institutions collide.
When President Bola Ahmed Tinubu nominated his cabinet in July 2023, Nnaji’s inclusion appeared routine. A businessman and politician from Enugu State, he presented himself as a technocrat ready to advance Nigeria’s science and innovation agenda. His submission to the Senate reportedly included a Bachelor of Science degree in Microbiology/Biochemistry from UNN and a discharge certificate from the NYSC. Both documents formed part of his screening file, and the Senate, satisfied at the time, confirmed his nomination. Months later, however, a series of media reports began to raise doubts about the authenticity of those credentials. Some claimed the NYSC could not validate the discharge certificate; others alleged that UNN’s records did not list Nnaji among its 1985 graduates, and that he had failed essential courses, including Virology (MCB 431AB), or missed required rewrites. The ensuing public reaction was swift and divided. For some, it was another proof of widespread forgery among political elites; for others, it was a premature judgment against a man who had not been officially found guilty of any wrongdoing.
UNN’s responses only deepened the confusion. In December 2023, the University’s Registrar, Mrs Celine Nnebedum, issued a letter stating that “Mr. Geoffrey Uchechukwu Nnaji graduated from this university in July 1985 with a Bachelor of Science degree, Second Class (Lower Division).” That document, bearing the institution’s official seal, seemed definitive. But by May 2025, UNN changed course. In a letter to the Public Complaints Commission (PCC), it stated that after a “thorough search” of its archives no record could be found that Nnaji graduated or that any degree certificate had been issued in his name. In October 2025, the Vice-Chancellor, Professor Simon U. Ortuanya, under a Freedom of Information request, affirmed that although Nnaji was admitted in 1981, there is no evidence from available records that he satisfied all requirements, or that the university issued the certificate. These reversals from the same institution created sharp contradictions, leaving the public to ask: which version is accurate?
In the midst of this storm, it was reported by Premium Times that Nnaji filed court documents admitting that although the university once issued a letter confirming his graduation, he was never issued a physical degree certificate, which he attributes to “administrative challenges” and “uncooperative” institutional procedures. His defence contends that studies were completed and requirements fulfilled, and argues that delays or failures on the part of administrative offices, record-keeping gaps, or internal politics are responsible for the current state of ambiguity. Those who sympathize with him point to the larger issue that many Nigerian institutions rely on ageing physical archives, where damage, loss, or non-digitised records are common, and thus absence of proof is not proof of absence.
Meanwhile, critics of Nnaji maintain that as a public figure, he had a responsibility to ensure credentials submitted to the Senate and to NYSC were fully verifiable. They assert that contradictions of this kind feed into broader public distrust, especially when institutions make assertions that are later retracted. A civic activist was quoted as saying, “If the university is wrong, let him sue to clear his name. Silence only breeds suspicion.” The controversy has also prompted questions about how seriously Nigerian universities treat their verification responsibilities, particularly when political stakes are high.
The media, too, has played a central role. Outlets such as Premium Times and others have published investigations quoting both university and NYSC sources. These reports have leaned heavily on leaked correspondence, convocation lists, internal documents, and interviews with officials. None of these sources, however, have delivered a final, judicial or government-constituted investigative report with binding conclusions. The public remains caught between versions, and many commentators warn against allowing speculation to fill in unresolved facts.
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The institutional dilemma is stark. UNN, once known for strong academic integrity, now faces a credibility crisis, regardless of how this case is ultimately resolved. Whether its contradictory letters arose from poor record-keeping, miscommunication, internal pressure, or something worse, the outcome has shaken confidence in higher education verifications across Nigeria. University staff and alumni have expressed discomfort that two official documents from the same institution can tell almost diametrically opposed stories about the same issue. At the same time, NYSC’s role remains unsettled: it reportedly told journalists that the discharge certificate in question “appeared strange” and could not be authenticated, yet no definitive written position with clear evidence has been made public in a way that settles the matter.
History offers relevant precedents. The case of Enugu State Governor Peter Mbah, for example, serves as a useful comparison. In 2023 a Federal High Court, presided over by Justice Inyang Ekwo, cleared Mbah of allegations of certificate forgery regarding his NYSC discharge certificate. The court found that evidence demonstrated his certificate was validly issued. It criticised the NYSC for denying its issuance and awarded N5 million in damages for misrepresentation. The Mbah case underscores how conflicting claims between individuals and institutions can lead to full legal adjudication, rather than prolonged public speculation. Another precedent that scholars often refer to is Adeleke Fariu Arebi v. Ibraheem Adebola Moshood Gbabijo, where claims of forgery were not sustained because the evidence did not meet the constitutional or legal standard required under Section 66(1)(i) of the 1999 Constitution. The decision underscored that to disqualify a candidate or sustain allegations of forgery, the document alleged to be forged must be proven as such, beyond reasonable doubt.
Legally, the stakes in such controversies are guided by several statutory and constitutional provisions. The Criminal Code Act’s Section 467, for example, defines forgery and prescribes punishment for forging or presenting forged documents, with heavier penalties when public seals or office seals are involved. The Electoral Act 2022 also introduces relevant mechanisms. In particular, Section 29(5) allows an aspirant who participated in the primary election of a political party, who has reasonable grounds to believe that another candidate provided false information in his affidavit or in documents submitted that relate to constitutional requirements for contesting the election, to file a suit at the Federal High Court. Section 29(6) specifies that if falsehood is found, the court may disqualify the candidate and declare the second highest valid candidate the winner. These provisions show that there is legal framework for both accountability and challenge—but also limitations, especially around who can initiate actions and the standard of proof required.
Discussions among constitutional scholars emphasise that allegations, even when severe, do not equal judgments. The burden of proof in forgery cases typically requires showing beyond reasonable doubt that a document is forged, that the person presenting it knew it was false, and that it was submitted in a context requiring truth—for example, for election, office holding, or statutory requirement. Precedent indicates that when a person brings accusations, but the institution or agency cannot provide conclusive records or fails to counter claims with credible evidence, the court often has to examine whether institutional negligence or loss of records undermines or supports the allegations. This is part of what made the Mbah case settle in favor of the governor, because the NYSC could not sustain its claims in court with compelling evidence.
Beyond law and comparative precedent, Nigeria’s academic system faces structural challenges that often complicate such controversies. Many universities maintain physical archives from decades past without consistent digitisation. Registries might lose or misfile records, major administrative turnovers sometimes result in knowledge loss, and in some cases, environmental or infrastructural decay (e.g. water damage, fire, humidity) contribute to loss of documents. Internal communication channels may be weak; letters confirming graduation might be signed without full archival verification, especially when responding to public or media pressure. All of this means that when gaps are found in records, it’s not always clear whether these signify deliberate fraud, honest administrative failure, or something in between.
Comparative lenses help clarify what best practice looks like. In several countries, universities use digitally verifiable degree certificates, cryptographic signatures, or blockchain-like ledgers to ensure that credentials can be authenticated independently. In South Africa, for instance, academic misconduct or claims of fraudulent credentials are often resolved by university disciplinary hearings, external faculty panels, or independent regulatory bodies with authority to demand the release of original files. In Germany, academic titles are tightly regulated, and institutions often retract statements when evidence of plagiarism or fraud emerges, sometimes leading to resignations or formal disciplinary sanctions. While the Nigerian situation is different institutionally and culturally, such comparisons show that mechanisms for transparency and accountability are feasible—and often employed to prevent, not just respond to, scandals.
Ethically, this controversy reaches deep into public trust. In Nigeria, academic credentials carry both symbolic and practical value. They are often markers of merit, social mobility, and legitimacy in public office. When questions arise, they damage not only individual reputations but institutional reputation, educational standards, and civic morale. Youths who aspire to honesty can become cynical; citizens may view honesty and integrity as optional, especially for the powerful. Thus whether or not Nnaji is ultimately found guilty of any wrongdoing, the situation has already inflicted a cost in the realm of public trust.
At the intersection of policy, law, and public expectation lie possible reforms, many of which have been suggested by experts. A national, centralized academic verification database, fully partnered with NYSC, NUC, Ministry of Education, and higher institutions, could vastly reduce opportunities for forgery. Protocols could require that all ministerial or political appointees submit credentials certified directly from institutions, with public disclosure of verification results. Legislative clarity might mandate rigid timelines for institutions to respond to verification requests, and impose consequences for false public statements or institutional misrepresentations. These are not radical ideas, but ones tied to precedents and legal structures already in place.
For now, however, the Nnaji case remains unresolved. There has been no final, binding judgment from a competent court or a properly constituted federal investigative panel that settles all contradictions. Both the university’s latest position and the minister’s defence still stand as claims in dispute. The absence of proof at this stage should not be mistaken for proof of absence. Only a full, transparent process – legal or administrative – with access to all records, witnesses, and verifiable documentation can establish the truth. Until then, any conclusions remain provisional, and fairness demands that no side be accepted uncritically over the other.
In conclusion, the Nnaji certificate controversy is more than a personal scandal; it is a test of Nigeria’s institutional maturity. It challenges universities to uphold academic integrity, the law to serve as arbiter rather than rumor-monger, and citizens to demand truth without prejudice. Ultimately, the issue is not just whether one man graduated, but whether Nigeria’s systems are capable of producing and protecting truth. For a nation that aspires to global credibility, the answer must come not from speculation or media soundbites, but from a due process that restores confidence in both achievements and accountability. God is with us!
Prof. Chiwuike Uba, PhD, is a development economist and governance reform specialist with extensive experience in public financial management, institutional accountability, and socio-economic policy. He is the Chairman of the Board of the ACUF Initiative for Policy and Governance and serves on multiple think tanks focused on promoting evidence-based policymaking, leadership integrity, and transparent governance in Nigeria and beyond.
