HomeFeaturesOpinionThe NIPSS Question: Premier Think Tank or Adult Reformatory?, By Ozumi Abdul

The NIPSS Question: Premier Think Tank or Adult Reformatory?, By Ozumi Abdul

The NIPSS Question: Premier Think Tank or Adult Reformatory?

By Ozumi Abdul

In September 2023, Vice President Kashim Shettima made a blunt yet revealing statement that sent ripples through Nigeria’s policy and governance circles. While hosting the management team of the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS), led by its Director-General, Professor Ayo Omotayo, the Vice President cautioned that the institute must not degenerate into “a dumping ground for frustrated public officers.” He recounted a time when NIPSS was perceived less as a prestigious training ground and more as a bureaucratic exile— “If somebody is going to be punished, then he is sent to NIPSS for a year.”

This sentiment, though troubling, echoes a perception long held by many within Nigeria’s public and security sectors. Over the years, a number of high-ranking officers and top-level technocrats have rejected their nominations to the Senior Executive Course, citing personal or medical reasons. Behind these withdrawals, however, lie deeper concerns: disillusionment with the institute’s direction, discomfort with its internal practices, or outright disapproval of its evolving reputation.

One well-known anti-corruption czar, who was compelled to attend the course, reportedly endured undue hurdles and was only allowed to graduate after intense internal and legal wrangling. Similarly, a top intelligence operative—close to the Presidency—flatly turned down his nomination, while another senior official managed to secure a last-minute exemption on medical grounds. In elite circles, the once-coveted “mni” title, denoting membership of the National Institute, is increasingly viewed with ambivalence.

These issues came to a head recently during the Senior Executive Course 47, when disturbing reports emerged of alleged bullying and harassment by some directing staff. Participants, many of whom are experienced professionals, senior government officials, and corporate executives, described instances of verbal abuse, public shaming, and treatment they likened to disciplinary drills for junior recruits or schoolchildren. According to a Daily Trust report, one anonymous participant even called for direct intervention from the Vice President’s office, citing an “oppressive learning environment.”

While the conduct of a few directing staff cannot be used to condemn an entire institution, such behavior—if verified—casts a long, disheartening shadow. Some participants, many of them in their fifties, reportedly felt insulted by what they viewed as condescending and authoritarian attitudes from those tasked with facilitating their learning. It raises the question: should seasoned professionals, entrusted with national responsibilities, be subjected to humiliation under the guise of discipline?

In response to the media coverage, Professor Omotayo refuted the allegations. He explained that every participant signs a code of conduct upon entry, acknowledging the institute’s disciplinary procedures. He also insisted that directing staff are assessed on participant performance and are expressly forbidden from using foul or abusive language. However, his denials have done little to quell the growing unease.

The controversy reached a crescendo when Yushau A. Shuaib, a renowned media entrepreneur and founder of PRNigeria, filed a formal petition with the Inspector-General of Police. He accused officials at NIPSS of cybercrime, citing an egregious privacy breach. According to Shuaib, an internal editorial email was mysteriously attached to a disciplinary query issued by Rear Admiral A.A. Mustapha and Professor Elias Wahab, both Directing Staff on the directive of the Acting Director of Studies, Barrister Nima Salman. Not only was the email never shared with anyone at NIPSS, but it also formed part of the evidence used to suspend him from the course. If verified, this could amount to a violation of the Cybercrime Act of 2015, particularly sections that deal with unlawful access to digital communications and electronic surveillance.

Shuaib had previously petitioned President Bola Ahmed Tinubu directly, challenging what he described as an “unjust and vindictive” suspension in NIPSS. He claimed that his troubles began after publishing articles in support of the President’s Digital and Blue Economy agenda and was accused of breaching NIPSS guidelines. A second query, which referenced the intercepted editorial email, arrived shortly after. Following his suspension, Shuaib was barred from lectures, internal activities, and even international study tours—despite having paid the full ₦18.2 million enrollment fee.

The irony is glaring. NIPSS, established in 1979 as Nigeria’s foremost policy think tank, was envisioned as a centre of excellence in multidisciplinary research, strategic leadership training, and evidence-based policymaking. Located in Kuru, Plateau State, it was tasked with preparing senior leaders for higher national service by equipping them with analytical tools, a deep understanding of national and global trends, and the capacity for transformative governance.

In its prime, NIPSS was a revered institution. Alumni included military generals, ministers, permanent secretaries, and heads of parastatals. The “mni” title carried weight in government and diplomatic circles. But today, a growing number of Nigerians are questioning whether the Institute still lives up to its founding vision—or whether it has morphed into a disciplinary camp, operating with opacity, arrogance, and misplaced authority.

What should have been a sanctuary for strategic reflection, elite collaboration, and intellectual freedom is increasingly perceived as a place of conformity and submission. Rather than inspire confidence, recent accounts point to procedural excesses, authoritarian leadership styles, and an institutional culture that stifles rather than stimulates critical thought.

To restore the credibility and relevance of NIPSS, reforms are urgently needed. First, the Institute must re-establish itself as a merit-driven centre of excellence, where public officials go not to be punished or subdued but to be challenged intellectually. That requires recruiting and retaining faculty of the highest calibre—individuals who inspire through dialogue, not fear or unchecked arrogance.

NIPSS should also adopt clearer protocols around privacy, data protection, and digital communication. The allegations made by Shuaib, if proven true, would indicate serious internal lapses with broader legal implications. There must be transparency in disciplinary procedures, with participants granted fair hearing and legal safeguards.

Above all, the leadership must embrace accountability and open engagement. Instead of dismissing media reports and public criticism, the management should encourage feedback, independently investigate credible complaints, and take corrective action. Constructive criticism should be seen as an opportunity to improve, not as an attack on institutional prestige.

NIPSS as Nigeria’s policy engine room, its ethos must reflect the values of democratic leadership—tolerance, innovation, and integrity.

Until these reforms are made, one uncomfortable question will continue to haunt Nigeria’s public consciousness: Is NIPSS still a premier strategic institution advancing national progress, or has it become a reformatory for sidelined elites, stifled voices, and frustrated dreams?

Time—and action—will tell.

Ozumi Abdul is strategic communication specialist and a fellow of ICIR. He can be reached via [email protected]

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