Why Must a Nigerian Graduate Walk for Opportunity?

When a young graduate from Ebonyi State decided to trek from his hometown to Lagos State in search of a meeting with Afrobeat superstar Davido, the story quickly captured national attention. To some, it was a dramatic act of fandom; to others, a daring pursuit of opportunity. But beneath the spectacle lies a deeper narrative—one that raises uncomfortable questions about education, opportunity, and the state of hope for young Nigerians.

This trek is not merely about celebrity admiration. It is a symbol—of frustration, resilience, and a desperate search for visibility in a country where thousands of educated young people struggle to translate years of study into meaningful livelihoods. The graduate’s long walk reflects the distance many Nigerian youths must travel—figuratively and sometimes literally—between education and opportunity.

Nigeria produces graduates in their hundreds of thousands every year. Yet the economy absorbs only a fraction of them. For many, the promise that education guarantees a future has proven hollow. Degrees are earned, certificates framed, but jobs remain scarce. In this vacuum, unconventional routes to success—social media virality, celebrity proximity, and public spectacles—have become alternative ladders to relevance.

The Ebonyi graduate’s trek confronts us with a hard truth: when institutions fail, individuals improvise. When formal systems close doors, hope searches for windows—sometimes on foot, under the sun, across dangerous highways. The journey, therefore, is not an indictment of ambition but a question posed to the nation: why must a graduate resort to such extremes to be seen?

There is also a cultural dimension. Celebrity culture in Nigeria has grown powerful, often filling the void left by weak public institutions. Musicians, actors, and influencers now represent not just entertainment but possibility—proof that success can emerge from obscurity. For a young graduate, meeting a figure like Davido is less about autographs and more about access: access to networks, patronage, and a chance—however slim—at a breakthrough.

But should hope be outsourced to celebrities? Should the path from the classroom to economic stability pass through chance encounters and public stunts? These are the questions this trek forces us to confront. A functional society should not depend on benevolence or viral luck to integrate its educated youth into productive life.

The story also reflects regional inequality. Graduates from states like Ebonyi often face compounded challenges—limited local industries, fewer corporate headquarters, and reduced exposure to national opportunity pipelines. Lagos, by contrast, remains the symbolic destination where dreams are believed to materialise. That a graduate must walk hundreds of kilometres toward this promise underscores how uneven development has become.

Yet, amid the concern, there is courage. The trek reveals determination, physical endurance, and belief—qualities any nation should harness, not waste. If such resolve were matched with structured opportunities—skills pipelines, entrepreneurship support, fair recruitment systems—Nigeria would unlock enormous human potential.

Ultimately, an Ebonyi graduate’s trek is not just his story. It is a mirror held up to the nation. It asks whether Nigeria is listening to its young people, whether education still matters, and whether dignity of labour remains attainable without spectacle.

Until those questions are answered with policy, opportunity, and inclusion, more young Nigerians will keep walking—toward cities, toward fame, toward anything that looks like hope. And the nation must decide whether to keep watching or finally clear the road ahead.

u