I have followed the reactions to Senator Oluremi Tinubu, Nigeria’s First Lady, regarding her comment on akara and kuli kuli businesses with great interest. For context’s sake, Senator Oluremi Tinubu was speaking to journalists about the initiative to empower local women through business grants and suggesting possible businesses they could invest in, not prescribing a career path for every unemployed Nigerian graduate. Whether one agrees with her suggestion or not, the context should matter because it helps us judge the comment fairly. Like many public conversations in Nigeria, the debate quickly became divided, with some people describing the suggestion as an idea for the beneficiaries of the business grants to earn a decent income, while others saw it as an insult to graduates who spent years in school with the hope of building meaningful careers. I understand why both sides feel the way they do, but the more I reflected on the conversation, the more I realised that we had been discussing the wrong issue. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that akara was never really the issue. The deeper issue is how we have come to define education, work, and success in Nigeria.

Unsurprisingly, what caught my attention was not only the statement itself but the reaction it generated. Why did a simple business suggestion immediately become a debate about the value of a university education? Why do many Nigerians still believe that once a graduate is not working in an office, something must have gone wrong? For me, the bigger question is this: how do we measure the success of education? Is education only successful when it leads to a white-collar job? Have we reduced the value of learning to an appointment letter, an office and a monthly salary? Over the years, many Nigerians have been conditioned to believe that there is only one acceptable destination after graduation, and anything outside that path is often seen as settling for less, even when the person is creating value and earning a decent income.

This mindset has contributed to the frustration many graduates experience today. Every year, universities produce thousands of graduates, yet the labour market cannot absorb all of them because the number of graduates far exceeds the opportunities available. The government cannot escape responsibility for this reality because creating an economy where businesses can thrive, industries can grow and jobs can be created remains one of its fundamental responsibilities. However, while we continue to demand better policies and more opportunities, we must also examine the kind of education we have built. For decades, our education system has been better at producing certificate holders than problem solvers. Students are taught to pass examinations, earn degrees, and search for employment, but they are not sufficiently equipped with critical thinking, innovation, entrepreneurial skills, financial literacy, and the practical ability to create value.

The evidence is all around us. Many graduates leave school only to begin learning all over again. They enrol in technology programmes, fashion schools, agricultural training, digital skills, crafts, and different vocational programmes simply to establish themselves and create value. This does not mean they have abandoned their education; it means they are trying to acquire the practical knowledge the system failed to give them. In reality, they are filling a gap that should have been closed long before graduation. Education should not only prepare people to become employees. It should also prepare them to become creators, innovators, and problem solvers who can identify opportunities where others see limitations.

That is why I believe we need to rethink the way we view certain businesses. The issue is not whether a graduate should sell akara, make beads, or start a small business; the real question is what that graduate brings into the business. An educated person should not approach an ordinary business the same way someone without that exposure would. Education should bring structure, innovation, branding, sound financial management, critical thinking, and the ability to grow a business beyond mere survival. That is what education should do for us. It should not change the dignity of the business; it should change the quality of the business.

Perhaps this is why the akara and kuli kuli conversation deserves a different perspective. Many people see only the finished products and ignore the value chain behind them. Akara is not just food sold by the roadside; it begins with agriculture and passes through processing, transportation, packaging, marketing, and distribution before it reaches the consumer. Kuli kuli follows the same path, creating economic opportunities far beyond what many people imagine. I have a friend who is a university graduate and runs a bead-making business, and in some months, she earns more than many fresh graduates in paid employment. Her story is not proof that every graduate should become an entrepreneur. It simply reminds us that education becomes truly valuable when it transforms ordinary opportunities into extraordinary enterprises.

This is why the conversation should move beyond whether akara or kuli kuli is suitable for graduates. The bigger conversation is whether our understanding of success has become too narrow. Nigeria needs professionals, employees, entrepreneurs, farmers, manufacturers, and researchers, but we must stop creating a hierarchy where some forms of honest work are celebrated while others are looked down upon. The dignity of work should never depend on the title, the office, or the appearance of the job. Education should be measured by more than the certificates people acquire or the jobs they secure. It should prepare people to think differently, solve problems, and create value wherever they find themselves. In the actual sense, the real failure is not that some graduates may end up selling akara. The real failure is an education system that teaches people to wait for opportunities instead of preparing them to create them. Education should not determine the dignity of work; it should determine the quality of work. That is the difference between going to school and being truly educated.