The University of Ibadan’s suspension of two tuition-hike protesters spotlights a wider Nigerian crackdown on campus dissent and student journalism that rights groups say threatens academic freedom.

In July, the University of Ibadan (UI) in Oyo State, Nigeria, suspended two student leaders—Ayodele Aduwo, an undergraduate in History, and Olamide Gbadegesin, a Master’s student in African Studies—over their participation in a peaceful protest against tuition hikes that students say have reached as high as 1,000 percent since May 2024.

“Before, we used to pay N20,000 [about $14], but now it’s up to N200,000 [about $132 or €113], depending on the faculty,” Aduwo said. For many families, the leap is punishing in a country where the minimum wage hovers around $46 and roughly 63 percent of the population is under 24—and disproportionately unemployed.

None of this is new in Nigeria’s tertiary sector, where dissent on campus often meets institutional muscle. By multiple accounts, student leaders, activists, and campus journalists increasingly face intimidation—and sometimes arrest—for protesting or publishing investigations. Last year at Usmanu Danfodiyo University, Sokoto (UDUS), a campus press outlet was suspended, followed by further harassment. Abdulrasheed Akere, then the editor, said the pressure took a serious toll on his mental health. “The reporter, Aisha Mustapha, was so scared—she was threatened with losing her degree,” he recalled, adding that she nearly stopped writing altogether.

At the same university, the student-union election was canceled, and caretakers were appointed in the union’s place—freezing students out of the very body meant to hold administrators accountable. In a related case, a Federal University Gusau (FUGUS) student was expelled after airing grievances on social media and has not been reinstated, despite lawmakers urging the university to recall him. At the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, a student reporter was harassed after covering deteriorating housing conditions despite steep fees.

Aduwo and Gbadegesin—both regarded by peers as strong students and outspoken advocates—say their ordeal began on May 13, 2024, during the UI student-union inauguration. Holding placards with another student, Nice Linus (who did not appear at the latest disciplinary panel), they raised a simple message: “FeesMustFall.” The action remained peaceful until, according to the students, university security officers dragged them from the venue, beat them, and handed them over to authorities.

A year later, in July, the university imposed four-semester suspensions and barred them from any union activity. “Our universities are turning into centers of repression,” Aduwo said. “If your ideas don’t align with management, you’re treated like an outcast. But my spirit is not broken. This only deepens my commitment to fight for students’ rights. Whatever happens shows that quality education is far from our institutions.” Aduwo argues that intellectual debate—not force—should prevail.

The punishments have drawn national and international blowback. Human-rights organizations condemned the process, describing a string of opaque and “bizarre” disciplinary hearings. Corporate Accountability and Public Participation Africa (CAPPA), a Nigerian non-governmental organisation, called the suspensions a dangerous affront to academic freedom and democratic rights, urging the university to reinstate the students. The institution has held its line.

For Gbadegesin, who had completed his Master’s defense, the decision was devastating. The suspension has upended his plan to pursue a PhD abroad. “This has affected not just our academics, but our relationships, our reputation, and our freedom,” he said. “We’ve been placed under surveillance, intimidated, and ostracized. But our conviction keeps us going.”

To the students, the protests were about reclaiming the union from what they describe as years of complicity and passivity. They point to a wider pattern: in 2018, Kunle Adebanjo was suspended for reporting alleged irregularities; this year, campus journalists—including a student-press president—were reportedly beaten. The message, they argue, is consistent: challenge authority at your peril.

Media advocates warn that the chill on campus mirrors a broader regional retrenchment. Yinka Olaito of the Africa Foundation for Young Media Professionals called the UI suspensions “a dangerous signal,” noting that freedom of expression—guaranteed under Section 39 of Nigeria’s constitution—is under intensifying pressure across West Africa. “Authorities often hide under the guise of maintaining order,” he said. “But they’re punishing lawful students. The implications are massive—not just for campuses, but for democracy itself.”

Lekan Otunfodunrin, executive director of the Media Career Development Network, fears lasting damage to civic life. “We’re creating a generation too afraid to exercise their rights,” he said. “If university students can’t protest peacefully without being suspended, then what future are we building?”

UI’s vice-chancellor, Professor Kayode Adebowale, did not respond to requests for comment. UDUS’s management, asked about its treatment of student journalists, said it does not oppose campus reporting but insisted that student reporters must adhere to professional ethics, as they “remain the image of the school.”

“Education is a right,” Gbadegesin said. “It must be affordable and accessible, not a privilege for the rich.” The burden now lies with Nigeria’s universities: engage their students, or silence them.