FEATURE | NIGERIA’S  ROTTING LIBRARIES: Kano’s Viral Video Spotlights National Neglect

A viral video from Kano lays bare the crumbling state of libraries across Nigeria, raising urgent questions about the nation’s commitment to education and the preservation of intellectual heritage. 

Kehinde Adegoke reports.

A viral video showing the chaotic, congested state of Kano’s historic Murtala Muhammed Library has triggered public anger and forced the Kano State Government into a defensive posture — but behind the immediate controversy lies a deeper, more disturbing national crisis that no single video can fully capture.

The Library — and What It Represents

The Murtala Mohammed Library Complex is not just any public library. It is the official Kano State Government library — a three-floor facility located on Ahmadu Bello Way in the Nassarawa Government Reservation Area, with a conference hall, a dedicated children’s section, an American Corner, an ICAN Centre, a National Teachers Institute wing, and parking for over 300 vehicles. 

Officially opened on April 25, 2000, by then-Governor Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, it is named after General Murtala Ramat Muhammed — Nigeria’s fourth Head of State, born in Kano, assassinated on February 13, 1976 — one of several edifices in the city bearing his name alongside a hospital, a mosque, and a major road.

It is also, in 2026, a library with no official website, no digital archive, no online catalogue, and no social media presence beyond a Facebook page with 5,322 likes. An institution designed to be the repository of knowledge for millions has left almost no record of itself in the digital age. The irony is not subtle: a library that houses the knowledge of others cannot be found, accessed, or explored from outside its physical walls.

The Viral Video — and the Government’s Response

The footage that swept Nigerian social media depicted piles of books, furniture, and shelves in disarray — leading many viewers to conclude that the iconic library had been abandoned by the current administration.

In response, Commissioner for Information and Home Affairs Ibrahim Abdullahi-Waiya issued a strongly worded statement categorically denying claims of abandonment. He explained that the library is undergoing comprehensive renovation and modernisation, and that the contract was awarded to Global Firm Limited. As work commenced on the upper floor, the contractor removed furniture, bookshelves, and other materials and temporarily relocated them downstairs, creating the congested and disorderly appearance captured in the video.

However, the government simultaneously voiced dissatisfaction with the contractor’s slow pace and eventual abandonment of the site. Abdullahi-Waiya stated that appropriate measures are being taken against Global Firm Limited in line with the terms of the agreement.

This is not the first time Kano’s government has moved to upgrade the facility. As recently as September 2025, the State Commissioner for Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs inspected 300 new laptops and desktops delivered to the library complex during an earlier phase of renovation — a development that received almost no public attention at the time.

Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf‘s administration insists the project remains active and that a world-class facility with modern reading halls and digital resources is the intended outcome. Many Nigerians will be watching to see whether that promise holds.

A National Pattern — Not a Kano Problem

The controversy has thrown a national spotlight on a deeper, more disturbing crisis that extends far beyond one viral video.

Across Nigeria, public libraries have increasingly become symbols of governmental neglect and decay. From the incomplete National Library headquarters in Abuja — which has lingered for nearly two decades despite huge sums spent — to state libraries in Enugu, Plateau, Niger, and Cross River that now stand in various stages of dilapidation, the story remains painfully familiar.

Many of these facilities suffer from leaking roofs, outdated book collections, rodent infestation, broken furniture, and a near-total absence of modern digital infrastructure. Even libraries in federal Unity Schools and public universities have not been spared — prompting repeated outcries from the Nigerian Library Association over the years.

This widespread neglect persists despite regular budget allocations and periodic promises by successive administrations to revive reading culture and improve access to knowledge. Critics argue the problem derives from a combination of poor project supervision, frequent contractor abandonment, chronic underfunding, and the low priority given to intellectual infrastructure relative to roads and bridges.

The Deeper Consequences

The consequences of this crisis go far beyond optics.

In a country where millions of young people still lack reliable internet access, functional public libraries remain essential for students, researchers, civil servants, and self-educated citizens. Their continued decline contributes directly to poor reading habits, declining educational outcomes, and a weakened national capacity for research and innovation.

The Kano case perfectly illustrates the national pattern. A contractor was awarded a major renovation job, allegedly failed to deliver, and left a historic library in a condition that sparked public embarrassment. Such situations raise serious questions about procurement processes, project monitoring mechanisms, and governments’ willingness to enforce accountability when projects stall.

The Dig

The viral video has achieved what years of quiet advocacy could not — it has forced both state and national attention back to the sorry state of Nigeria’s public libraries.

But a video is not a policy. Public anger is not an audit. And a government statement promising a world-class facility is not a completion certificate.

Nigeria’s libraries do not need another promise. They need a contractor that shows up, a government that monitors the work, and an accounting for every naira spent on every renovation that stalled, every shelf that rotted, and every book that was never replaced.

The Murtala Muhammed Library complex has stood on Ahmadu Bello Way since 2000. It was named after a man who, in 200 days in office, launched reforms that Nigeria is still reaping the benefits of. Twenty-five years later, his library cannot be found on the internet — and its books are piled on the floor.

That is not a renovation problem. That is a national statement.

𝗞𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲 𝗔𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱-𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝟭𝟱 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘀, 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗴𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗔𝘀 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗘𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗘𝗢 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗡𝗲𝘄𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗺, 𝗔𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘄𝘀𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵𝘀, 𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗳𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗺.TheDiggerNews.com | www.thediggernews.com | 08039135472 | Ibadan, Nigeria

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