By Ganiu Bamgbose, PhD
Every year, a familiar academic ritual takes place. A ranking organisation somewhere publishes a new list of universities, and universities, academics, alumni and the media immediately begin to celebrate, debate or lament the positions occupied by Nigerian institutions. One university has moved up. Another has dropped. One has become the “best” in the country. Another has overtaken its traditional rival. Social media becomes a theatre of comparison, while institutional publicity units quickly turn favourable positions into banners, press releases and congratulatory messages.
But beneath this annual excitement lies a question that deserves greater attention: who is ranking our universities, what exactly is being ranked, and how relevant are the parameters of the ranking to the realities of our universities and societies?
This is not an argument against university rankings. Rankings can provide useful comparative information. They can stimulate institutional reflection, encourage universities to improve their research visibility and expose weaknesses that may otherwise remain hidden. The problem begins when a ranking becomes more than an indicator and is treated as a definitive verdict on the quality, relevance or worth of a university.
There is, therefore, a need to distinguish between the ranking, the ranked and the ranker.
The ranker determines the parameters. The ranked institutions supply, directly or indirectly, the data upon which the assessment is based. The ranking is the final numerical or categorical representation of that exercise. Yet, in our enthusiasm to celebrate the final list, we often pay insufficient attention to the assumptions, indicators and priorities that produced it.
A university ranking may give considerable attention to research citations, international faculty, international students, academic reputation, employer reputation, research income or global partnerships. These are legitimate measures of certain dimensions of university performance. But are they sufficient measures of what a Nigerian or African university ought to be?
Consider a university whose graduates become teachers in rural communities, doctors serving underserved populations, civil servants transforming public institutions, entrepreneurs creating employment and researchers addressing local environmental, linguistic, agricultural or health challenges. How adequately does a ranking system capture these contributions?
This is where the conversation becomes particularly important for African universities.
Our universities must not become permanently trapped in the psychology of waiting for external validation. We should certainly know how the world sees us, but we must also ask how effectively we are serving the people whose taxes, sacrifices, aspirations and communities sustain our institutions.
A Nigerian university should be able to ask itself questions that may not necessarily determine its position on an international ranking table. How many of our graduates are genuinely employable? How relevant is our curriculum to Nigeria’s development challenges? How much of our research has solved identifiable local problems? How accessible is quality education to students from disadvantaged backgrounds? How effectively do we support innovation? How strong are our laboratories, libraries and digital infrastructure? How quickly do we process students’ results and certificates? How safe and intellectually stimulating is the campus? How well do our graduates communicate, think critically and contribute to society? And as it applies to me as an academic: how happy is the workforce at the centre of this yearly ranking ritual?
These questions are not inferior because they are local. Indeed, they may be more consequential to the communities served by our universities.
There is also the question of research. African universities should certainly pursue global visibility, publication and citation. However, citation should not become the sole destination of scholarship. A research paper that attracts hundreds of citations is valuable, but so is research that changes agricultural practice in a Nigerian community, improves language education, influences public policy, strengthens healthcare delivery or preserves endangered cultural knowledge. The challenge, therefore, is not to reject international rankings but to contextualise them.
African universities need robust internal and regional assessment frameworks that complement international rankings. The African university of the future should be able to measure itself against a multidimensional scorecard involving research quality, teaching effectiveness, graduate outcomes, innovation, community impact, infrastructure, ethical governance, staff welfare, student experience, international collaboration and contribution to national development.
Such a framework would not necessarily produce one “best university”. Instead, it would reveal institutional strengths and weaknesses. A university might excel in medical research while another demonstrates exceptional community engagement. Another might distinguish itself in teacher education, while another develops outstanding technological innovations. This approach recognises that universities can have different missions without reducing institutional worth to a single position on a table.
There is also a danger in the annual glorification of ranking positions. When a university rises by a few places, celebration is understandable. But the more important question should be: what actually changed? Did teaching improve? Did research become more impactful? Did staff welfare improve? Did students receive better facilities? Did graduates become more competitive? Did the university solve more problems within its community?
Conversely, when an institution falls in a ranking, the response should not automatically be panic or embarrassment. Rankings can fluctuate because methodologies, datasets, reputational perceptions and institutional reporting change. A fall should provoke institutional inquiry, but not necessarily collective shame.
The Nigerian university system needs something deeper than a yearly ceremony of ranking and celebration. It needs a culture of continuous self-assessment.
Every university should know what it exists to achieve and should develop measurable indicators for determining whether it is achieving those objectives. The National Universities Commission and other relevant bodies can facilitate a broader Nigerian or African framework that recognises both universal standards and contextual realities.
Ultimately, the question is not whether Nigerian universities should care about rankings. They should. The question is whether rankings should determine what Nigerian universities care about.
A university must be internationally visible without becoming intellectually dependent on external validation. It must compete globally while remaining responsive locally. It must pursue citations without abandoning impact, chase excellence without sacrificing relevance and seek recognition without confusing recognition with achievement.
The ranker may tell us where our universities stand in relation to certain indicators. The ranking may provide a useful mirror. But the ranked institution must possess the courage to look beyond that mirror and ask the more difficult questions.
What are we doing? Who are we serving? What problems are we solving? And by the standards that matter to our people, are we becoming better universities. Perhaps that is the ranking that Nigerian and African universities urgently need.
(c) 2026 Ganiu Bamgbose writes from Lagos.
Ganiu Abisoye Bamgbose, PhD
Department of English,
Lagos State University, Ojo
[email protected]
08093695359, 07084956118
