By Aisha Mamman Mustapha
Gloria Bitrus Birma, a civil servant and mother of three in Maiduguri, shared her own experience: “It’s a serious issue. The academicians and parents must pay attention. For me, sometimes I seize my children’s phones and tell them to read. Even their spiritual prayers are being neglected because of these devices. They are always online. It’s a waste of time and money because you must subscribe before being online.”
There was a time when the glow that guided young people at night came from lanterns placed on books. Today, the light comes from smartphone screens — tiny rectangles of distraction that have quietly replaced the classroom, the library, and sometimes even the mosque.
Across tertiary institutions in Northern Nigeria, a disturbing trend is unfolding: academic performance is declining, while attention to frivolities on social media is soaring. Students are dancing more than they are studying, scrolling more than they are solving, and posting more than they are pondering. Advertise business
The smartphone — once celebrated as a gateway to global knowledge — has become, for many, a silent saboteur of ambition.
“It’s a threat to human development,” said Bukar Ali Kammari, a concerned parent from Maiduguri. “If this continues for the next decade, it will be difficult to find qualified academicians. Even worse, Islamic knowledge is becoming rare because our children are prioritizing Western distractions over their faith. Many have dropped out from Islamiyyas and Tsangaya schools once they grow up.”
His voice trembled with worry as he added a painful insight: “This ignorance is part of what leads to insurgency. You see these groups like Boko Haram, ISWAP, and ISIS — they manipulate those who lack both Islamic and Western education. My advice to our youth is to pursue both types of knowledge. That’s the only weapon that can protect them from false ideologies.”
In campuses across the North — from Kashim Ibrahim University to the University of Maiduguri — lecture halls echo with a new rhythm. The professor’s voice competes with notification tones. Students take notes with one hand and scroll TikTok with the other.
Amina Mustapha, a Biotechnology student at Kashim Ibrahim University, confessed honestly: “I only read when it’s close to exams. I’m trying to stop using my smartphone too much, but it has become a habit.”
Her words reflect the silent battle many students face — the tug-of-war between discipline and dopamine. Research by TechPoint Africa (2024) reveals that the average Nigerian youth spends about seven hours daily on social media platforms, mostly on short-form video apps. Each swipe releases a dose of pleasure, training the brain to seek quick satisfaction instead of deep focus. Advertise business
Educationists say this constant stimulation weakens attention span and critical thinking — two pillars of academic excellence.
The impact of this digital obsession is not limited to academics alone. It’s eroding the moral and spiritual foundation of society.
Gloria Bitrus Birma, a civil servant and mother of three in Maiduguri, shared her own experience: “It’s a serious issue. The academicians and parents must pay attention. For me, sometimes I seize my children’s phones and tell them to read. Even their spiritual prayers are being neglected because of these devices. They are always online. It’s a waste of time and money because you must subscribe before being online.”
Her words echo the frustrations of countless Nigerian parents who watch helplessly as their children prioritize virtual validation over real values.
Smartphones were meant to democratize knowledge. They were supposed to connect students to global classrooms, online libraries, and academic communities. But somewhere along the way, the tool turned into a trap.
Lecture notes have been replaced by viral memes. Research papers gather dust while filters and hashtags bloom. The classroom is now a backdrop for selfies, and the university has become an audience for viral trends.
A senior lecturer at the University of Maiduguri, who requested anonymity, lamented: “Many students today have information but no understanding. They can quote motivational posts but cannot write a coherent essay. The mind that is constantly distracted cannot be creative or analytical.”
What we face today is more than a technological problem — it’s a cultural shift. In the past, knowledge commanded respect; today, entertainment does. The intellectual is ridiculed; the influencer is idolized.
A generation once inspired by scholars like Sheikh Ja’afar Mahmud Adam and Chinua Achebe is now enchanted by viral personalities and digital comedians. The smartphone has not only changed how students learn but also what they value.
But all hope is not lost. Solutions begin with awareness — and discipline. Parents must return to active mentorship, setting digital boundaries at home. Religious and educational institutions must merge moral instruction with digital literacy, teaching students not only how to use technology but how to control it.
Universities should integrate courses on media ethics, time management, and responsible technology use, while student unions and campus organizations can promote “no-phone study zones” or reading challenges.
Above all, the youth themselves must rise to reclaim their future. They must realize that no app can replace hard work, and no algorithm can substitute for wisdom.
As Bukar Kammari wisely noted, “Only the combination of Islamic and Western education can produce the kind of balanced intellect that our society needs. Without that, we are raising a generation that scrolls through life but never truly lives it.”
The light of the smartphone will continue to glow in the dark — but whether it brightens or blinds depends on how wisely we use it.
Aisha Mamman Mustapha is a student of Mass Communicationof Kashim Ibrahim University.
