Sometimes, I am distraught by the lengths to which some people will go to compromise the integrity of academic qualifications in pursuit of professional recognition, social status, public influence or a position of authority.
It is troubling in a country where millions of young people struggle and sacrifice to acquire genuine qualifications. A certificate should be evidence of learning and perseverance, not a costume worn to impress an audience.
Nigeria has witnessed such controversies before. In 1999, Salisu Buhari, then Speaker of the House of Representatives, became embroiled in a scandal over claims that he had attended the University of Toronto in Canada and held qualifications he could not substantiate. The controversy led to his resignation.
He was subsequently convicted in connection with certificate forgery and false declaration, a case that became an enduring warning about the consequences of misrepresenting one’s educational background. The affair raised questions about scrutiny of people entrusted with public power.
More than two decades later, another controversy has brought academic integrity into the headlines.
I was miffed when I read about the investigation by Premium Times into Anthony Kila.
An investigation by Premium Times published on 3 October 2026 questioned Anthony Kila’s claim to be a professor and a Jean Monnet Professor of Strategy and Development.
A further report, published on 10 October, alleged that several degrees and postgraduate qualifications he said he obtained from institutions in the United Kingdom and Italy could not be substantiated. The newspaper reported that some institutions said they had no record of his enrolment or did not offer the programmes he claimed to have completed.
“What a monumental embarrassment!” I murmured.
The allegations are grave. They must nevertheless be described accurately: they are findings reported by an investigative newspaper, not a substitute for a court’s determination of criminal liability. Kila told the newspaper that he was gathering his academic and professional documents and contacting the institutions concerned.
His response and any further evidence should be considered fairly, but public concern is justified when institutions reportedly challenge claims that they conferred qualifications.
What makes this case especially troubling is the position Kila occupied as Pro-Chancellor of Michael and Cecilia Ibru University in Delta State. A pro-chancellor carries governance responsibilities in an institution whose purpose is to educate, examine, certify and prepare people for service.
When the credentials of someone holding such a position come under serious scrutiny, the question extends beyond the individual. It reaches the institution’s appointment procedures, its verification processes and its duty to protect public confidence in higher education.
Why, then, do people risk so much for titles and certificates they may not have earned? We cannot know an individual’s motives without evidence, but features of public life may help explain the temptation.
First, there is the premium placed on titles. In some professional and social circles, “Doctor” or “Professor” can command immediate deference before a person has said anything of substance. A title may create the impression of authority, expertise and intellectual distinction. Where society is more impressed by the label than by the quality of a person’s work, the label itself can become an object of pursuit. The danger is that the symbols of scholarship begin to matter more than scholarship.
Second, there is the competition for influence and opportunity. Academic credentials may help people qualify for appointments, consultancy work, board positions, speaking engagements and public recognition. If individuals believe that a longer list of qualifications will open doors that merit alone may not open quickly enough, they may be tempted to embellish their biographies. But an opportunity obtained through deception is built on an unstable foundation. The higher the position, the greater the potential damage when the truth emerges.
Third, there is the culture of credentialism. In an earlier column, I criticised Nigeria’s troubling obsession with paper qualifications—a culture that prizes certificates over competence, titles over substance, and academic credentials over integrity and proven achievement.
Qualifications matter. Universities must maintain rigorous standards, and professional roles often require specialised knowledge. But certificates cannot replace integrity, sound judgement, experience or the ability to perform. Nor should a person’s importance be measured by how many initials follow their name. When society worships credentials without asking what they represent, it creates a market for counterfeit prestige.
There is also the question of weak verification. No individual can sustain a false claim indefinitely if institutions, employers, governing councils and professional bodies consistently check the records behind it. A CV should not be accepted simply because it is attractively written or supported by an impressive photograph.
A claimed degree should be verified directly with the awarding institution, using reliable procedures and the candidate’s consent where required. The greater the authority attached to an office, the stronger the obligation to confirm that its appointee meets the requirements.
This is not a call to treat every applicant as dishonest, but for responsible due diligence. Verification protects institutions, the public and honest applicants; a transparent process can also distinguish authentic qualifications from false claims.
The consequences of academic fraud reach far beyond the person exposed. Genuine graduates work hard for their degrees, often while facing financial pressure, inadequate facilities and difficult personal circumstances. When someone allegedly invents a qualification, the achievement of those who earned theirs legitimately may be treated with suspicion.
A degree that should signify effort and competence becomes vulnerable to public cynicism. That is an injustice to students, lecturers, researchers and institutions that uphold standards.
There is a further danger when disputed credentials are attached to public commentary or leadership. Audiences may rely on a person’s claimed expertise when assessing economic policy, governance, education or international affairs. A title can influence how arguments are received even before they are tested on their merits. If that title has been misrepresented, public trust is compromised.
The lesson is not that a person without a doctorate has nothing worthwhile to say; many people contribute intelligently without advanced degrees. The lesson is that nobody should need to invent credentials to make a case, and no audience should confuse a title with proof that an argument is correct.
The Kila controversy also demands questions of the university that appointed him. What documents were examined before he became Pro-Chancellor? Were the qualifications independently verified? Who was responsible for the checks, and what procedures will now be reviewed? These are legitimate governance questions, not a presumption that every allegation has already been judicially proved. Premium Times reported that Michael and Cecilia Ibru University suspended Kila after the initial report and removed references to him from its website.
The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission was also reported to have constituted a team to investigate the matter. An investigation must be allowed to establish the facts, and the institution should explain what safeguards it will strengthen.
The state has a role, too. Where evidence establishes forgery, false declarations or other offences, the law should apply without fear or favour. Yet accountability must follow due process. Social media outrage cannot replace evidence, and public condemnation should not become a licence for harassment. The standard must be consistent: neither prestige nor political connections should shield a person from scrutiny, and neither accusation nor unpopularity should remove the right to a fair hearing.
Universities and public institutions should adopt clear verification policies, document their checks and make senior appointments subject to transparent standards. Governing councils must not rely solely on biographies supplied by nominees. Media organisations should also verify the titles of regular contributors and interviewees instead of repeating a designation because another outlet has used it.
Editors have a duty to correct published descriptions when credible evidence shows that a title is unsupported. Professional bodies can contribute by setting clear rules for the use of academic and professional designations.
Individuals, meanwhile, should recover a more honest understanding of achievement. There is dignity in a qualification genuinely earned, but there is no shame in not possessing a degree one has never obtained. Experience, practical skill, integrity and a record of service can earn respect without an invented certificate.
A person who has not completed a programme can state that truthfully; a person who has acquired knowledge outside a university can demonstrate it through the quality of their work. Honesty may close some doors, but deception can bring an entire career crashing down.
The question I began with therefore has a painful answer. Some people may come to believe that the rewards of appearing qualified outweigh the risk of being exposed. They may underestimate the persistence of journalists, the record-keeping of universities and the public’s right to know.
They may also mistake temporary acceptance for permanent legitimacy. But records can be checked, institutions can be contacted and contradictions can be uncovered. No manufactured biography is beyond scrutiny forever.
The Salisu Buhari episode should have taught us that the higher the office, the greater the consequences of false claims. The allegations concerning Anthony Kila remind us that credential verification is not a bureaucratic formality; it is a safeguard for public trust, particularly when a person holds a senior role in an institution devoted to education. We should resist the temptation to turn either case into a spectacle or to pronounce guilt beyond the evidence. But we should be equally unwilling to shrug off serious questions about qualifications.
The challenge is to make verification routine, so that reputation rests on evidence and appointments command confidence rather than appearance of distinction.
Nigeria needs people who are educated, certainly, but it needs something even more fundamental: people who are honest about what they know, what they have achieved and the titles they are entitled to use.
A genuine degree is earned through study; a genuine reputation is earned through conduct.
Neither can be manufactured safely.
In the end, the most important credential is not the one printed on paper, displayed on a website or placed before a name. It is integrity. The qualification that no institution can confer on a dishonest person and no forged certificate can supply.
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Dr. Odaro is a columnist and lecturer in the Department of Journalism and Media Studies, Auchi Polytechnic, Auchi, Edo State, Nigeria.
