In a country where national unity remains a noble yet elusive goal, the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC), once envisioned as a pillar of post-war integration and development, now stands at a crossroads. Mounting security risks, outdated frameworks, poor welfare conditions, and rising youth disinterest have fueled an intensifying public debate: Has the NYSC outlived its usefulness?

Committee Set Up to Overhaul a Deteriorating Scheme

Recognising the challenges dogging the scheme, the Federal Government has established a reform committee to revamp NYSC. According to the Minister of Youth Development, Ayodele Olawande, the goal is to make the programme more robust, impactful, and aligned with the evolving socio-economic needs of Nigerian youths. The committee’s key focus areas include corps members’ safety, infrastructural upgrades, and the larger question of whether the scheme still serves any meaningful national purpose.

Yet, for many Nigerians, these reforms are long overdue.

Corps Members Caught in the Crossfire of Insecurity

Arguably the most pressing concern surrounding NYSC today is the safety of participants. Once an instrument of patriotic engagement, the one-year compulsory service has, for many, become a gamble with life. Numerous corps members have fallen prey to the country’s pervasive insecurity.

In August 2023, eight prospective corps members traveling from Akwa Ibom to Sokoto were kidnapped along the Funtua-Gusau Road in Zamfara State. One of them remained in captivity for nearly a year before security forces rescued her on August 21, 2024.

The tragedy doesn’t end there. In July 2021, five corps members from Akwa Ibom lost their lives in a road accident while en route to an orientation camp in Katsina. Similarly, in March 2016, a corps member on electoral duty, Okonta Dumebi, was killed by gunmen during a legislative rerun election in Rivers State. A native of Delta and an orphan, his murder underscored the dangerous environments in which young Nigerians are deployed under the banner of national service.

With rising incidences of kidnappings, bandit attacks, and road-related tragedies, parents now dread allowing their children to serve outside their home regions. Consequently, many are seeking ways to manipulate the system to ensure their children are posted to safer areas closer to home.

Allowances Delayed and Insufficient Amid Soaring Inflation

Even when corps members make it to their places of primary assignment safely, they face another problem: poor remuneration. Although the federal government increased the monthly allowance from ₦33,000 to ₦77,000 in July 2024, implementation only began in March 2025. By then, inflation had already outpaced the value of the new stipend.

Given the skyrocketing cost of living, transportation, and food, ₦77,000 barely sustains a corps member for two weeks, let alone an entire month. The inadequacy of the allowance only adds to the sense that the programme is not worth the stress and risk it demands.

A System Filled with Structural and Institutional Failures

Beyond insecurity and poor stipends, many corps members also face systemic challenges upon arrival at their places of posting. Some are outrightly rejected by the organisations assigned to them, leaving them stranded and desperately searching for alternatives.

Instances of abuse have also emerged, most notably in 2021 when a female soldier, Chika Anele, was caught on camera assaulting a female corps member, Fidelia Ezeiruaku, in Calabar over a minor disagreement about food. The incident sparked outrage and called into question the professionalism of some officers entrusted with supervising corps members.

This kind of mistreatment, coupled with the lack of institutional support, discourages participation and further chips away at the scheme’s relevance.

A Programme with Noble Beginnings, Now Off-Track

The NYSC was established in 1973 by Decree No. 24 under the military government of General Yakubu Gowon. The primary mission was to mend the deep fractures left by the Nigerian Civil War by fostering unity, reconciliation, and national development.

Over the decades, the scheme mobilised over 5.5 million graduates, with 350,000 to 400,000 joining the programme annually. Initially, the initiative made sense—encouraging young Nigerians to learn new cultures and work in unfamiliar regions to break down ethnic and religious barriers.

However, decades later, the country’s political and ethnic divisions remain deeply entrenched. In fact, many political actors and institutions now propagate the very divisions NYSC was designed to heal. Appointments and promotions in public service often reflect ethnic biases and nepotism, undermining the core ethos of national cohesion that NYSC was built upon.

Youth and Public Sentiment Turning Against Compulsory Service

Increasingly, both parents and graduates question the relevance of the programme. In an era marked by economic hardship, insecurity, and the digital transformation of work, NYSC is increasingly viewed as a time-consuming formality rather than a transformative opportunity.

Some corps members find value in the experience, discovering their strengths and planning their futures during the service year. However, many others regard it as a delay to their careers, especially when the risks and bureaucracy outweigh any benefits.

Therefore, the question of whether the scheme should be scrapped or made optional becomes even more urgent. Students, as the primary stakeholders, must be given a platform to express their views. A nationwide poll among tertiary graduates could provide valuable insights to guide government decisions about the scheme’s future.

Time for a New Approach: Voluntarism Over Compulsion

Rather than scrapping NYSC outright, one viable solution lies in making it voluntary. Those who wish to serve can be allowed to do so in areas near their hometowns, reducing the security risk while still allowing for some level of cross-regional engagement. Meanwhile, those who prefer not to serve could opt out without penalty.

In turn, the government could channel the vast funds currently used for NYSC logistics into entrepreneurship development. Empowering graduates with capital to start small businesses or pursue vocational training would arguably offer more long-term value than a year of compulsory service under substandard conditions.

This approach acknowledges a hard truth: unity cannot be forced. National cohesion should emerge from trust, opportunity, and shared prosperity—not enforced mobility.

The Path Forward: Reform or Redundancy?

There is no doubt that NYSC, in its current form, has become a relic of the past. While its foundational purpose was laudable, changing times have rendered its execution problematic and, in many cases, dangerous.

The government must now make a pivotal decision. Will it pour more resources into patching a broken system? Or will it acknowledge the programme’s diminishing relevance and repurpose its intent through voluntary participation, safety-focused deployment, and empowerment-driven alternatives?

The answer lies not in political sentiment, but in the lived realities of the thousands of young Nigerians expected to participate in the scheme every year.

Until these core issues are addressed, NYSC will remain a symbol of good intentions lost in a sea of dysfunction. And Nigeria’s young graduates will continue to ask—rightfully so—if their lives are worth risking for a service that serves them so little in return.