A 5.5 Billion Naira Dream Crumbling in Kano: Who Will Save Our Youths? —By Muhammad Bashir Abdulhafiz

I am a young Nigerian who loves this country. I believe in the power of hard work, skill, and opportunity. That is why my heart is heavy whenever I think about what is currently happening at the Aliko Dangote Skills Acquisition Center in Kano State. There is a popular saying that the greatest tragedy is not wastefulness, but neglect, especially when what is being neglected holds the key to a nation’s future. For us in Nigeria, few places embody that tragedy today more than the Aliko Dangote Skills Acquisition Center.

This center was established through a public private partnership, with Dangote contributing 35% of the funding and the state government providing 35%, while local governments cover the remaining 30%. This center was not built by the Kano state government alone, but it was built by the collaborative effort of one of the Africa’s greatest industrialists, Aliko Dangote, with part of his own personal resources. The project consumed nearly 5.5 billion naira. He then handed it over freely to the Kano State government as a gift to the people. The goal was simple: give our youths the skills they need to stand on their own, create jobs, and reduce the shameful unemployment that eats away at our society.

But today, that beautiful dream is being neglected to death. Machines are breaking down. Trainers are working without pay for months. And the Kano State government, which accepted this gift, is acting as if nothing is wrong. If we keep quiet, we will lose not just a building, but the future of thousands of young Nigerians.

Let us remember what this center represents. It is a well-built, structured, and organized institution designed for serious skills training. It is not a small workshop. It is a place where young people from Kano, from other states in Nigeria, and even from neighboring countries come to learn modern, and practical trades, skills, and occupational experiences.

The list of skills taught there reads like a roadmap for economic independence:
1. Manufacturing of computers – preparing our youths for the digital age.
2. Manufacturing of solar panel energy – embracing clean energy and solving our power problems.
3. Manufacturing of building and plumbing materials – supporting the construction industry with locally made products.
4. Leather works – producing shoes, bags, belts that can compete anywhere.
5. Catering services and tailoring – timeless skills that never go out of demand.

This center was not just about teaching, it was about production. It was about turning idle hands into skilled artisans and entrepreneurs. For a country like Nigeria, where the population is booming and formal jobs are scarce, such an institution is not a luxury, it is a necessity. When this center was functioning well, it was a place of hope. A young person who had no certificate but had willing hands could walk in and, after training, walk out as a computer assembler, a solar panel technician, or a master leather craftsman. That is the kind of empowerment that changes families, communities, and ultimately the nation.

Now, let me speak plainly about what is happening today.
Reports from inside the center paint a picture of decay. The machines that once produced goods are breaking down one after another. In a skill acquisition center, equipment is everything. If a solar panel production line stops working and no one repairs it, how will the next generation of renewable energy experts learn? If the computer assembly tools gather rust, we lose the chance to build a generation of tech manufacturers.

But the more painful part is this: the staff are suffering. These are the trainers, the instructors, the technicians who give their knowledge to our youths. Many of them have reportedly not been paid their salaries for months. How can we ask them to pour their energy into training others when they cannot afford to feed their own families? Unpaid workers eventually lose motivation, and when they lose motivation, the quality of training falls. Eventually, they leave. And when they leave, the center dies.

Worst of all, the Kano State government has remained largely silent. There has been no visible effort to clear the salary arrears, no urgent plan to repair broken equipment, and no clear vision for keeping the center alive. It is as if the government has forgotten that it accepted a 5.5 billion naira asset and is now allowing it to rot.

Some may ask, ‘Why should I care about a skills center in Kano?’ The answer is simple: because unemployment does not respect state borders. A jobless youth in Kano can easily become a problem in Lagos, in Abuja, in Benue, in Borno, in Plateau, in Zamfara, or anywhere else. When we fail to equip our young people with skills, we are planting seeds of poverty, crime, and instability.

Furthermore, this center is a regional symbol. The fact that youths from neighboring countries enroll there shows that Nigeria once had a reputation as a place of opportunity. If we allow this center to collapse, we are telling our neighbors that we cannot even manage a gift given to us. We lose our standing as a leader in West Africa.

Also, let us think about the original donor. Aliko Dangote did not have to build this center. He chose to because he believed in the potential of our youths. When a private citizen puts his money into a project for public good, the least the government can do is protect that investment. By neglecting the center, the government is sending a dangerous message: that even well intentioned philanthropic gestures can be wasted by poor governance.

An Urgent Appeal to Those in Authority.
I am writing this article not just to complain, but to offer a way forward. I write this not to criticize for the sake of criticism, but out of deep patriotism. We cannot afford to lose this center. I call on the Kano State Government, and all authorities that are responsible to act immediately. Here is my advice:

First, pay the workers immediately.
Salary is not a favor, it is a right. The staff of the center have families depending on them. The government should release funds to clear all outstanding salaries within days. This will restore morale and show that the government values the people who run the center.

Second, carry out a full assessment and repair of equipment.
The government should set up a small team of engineers and technical experts to inspect every machine and facility. A budget should be allocated to repair what can be repaired and replace what is beyond repair. Let the center begin to function again at full capacity.

Third, consider a public private partnership.
If the government finds it difficult to manage the center alone, it should invite the private sector including the original donor to help with management. Sometimes a private operator can run such a center more efficiently, with better accountability. There is no shame in admitting that a partnership might save the center.

Fourth, ensure transparency in funding.
Nigerians are tired of hearing that funds are not available while projects decay. The government should publish how much is budgeted for the center’s running costs and how those funds are spent. Transparency will build public trust and discourage mismanagement.

Fifth, involve the youths themselves.
The students and graduates of the center should have a voice. The government can create a forum where they report challenges and suggest improvements. After all, the center exists for them.

I write this as a patriotic young Nigerian who refuses to watch a national asset die in silence. The Aliko Dangote Skills Acquisition Center was built to fight unemployment, to empower youths, and to give hope to those who thought they had none. It is too valuable to be abandoned.

I appeal to the Governor of Kano State and all officials concerned: please, do not let this legacy crumble. The 5.5 billion naira that built this place was not government money, it was a gift born out of love for this country. That gift must not be wasted.

To the staff, I say: your sacrifice is seen. To the youths who still hope to learn, I say: do not give up. And to my fellow Nigerians, I say: let us speak up when public assets are neglected. Silence benefits only those who wish to hide their failures.

The time to act is now. Revive the center. Pay the workers. Save the dream. The youths are waiting. The nation is watching.

Muhammad Bashir Abdulhafiz wrote from Jos, and can be reached via abdulhafizmuhammad81@gmail.com instantly.