
KSUSTA Students' Desperate Wait for NELFUND Loans: Cracks in Nigeria's Education Safety Net
By Kebbi Daily News on Fri Oct 17 2025
Trapped in Bureaucracy: KSUSTA Students' Desperate Wait for NELFUND Loans Exposes Cracks in Nigeria's Education Safety Net
Aliero, Kebbi State – In the lecture halls of Kebbi State University of Science and Technology (KSUSTA) in Aliero, frustration simmers like the relentless Sahel sun. For hundreds of students, the promise of federal intervention through the Nigerian Education Loan Fund (NELFUND) has morphed into a cruel mirage. Funds have flowed to the institution—over ₦793 million disbursed as early as March 2025—but many undergraduates remain ensnared in a web of administrative inertia, unable to access what should be their lifeline for tuition and upkeep. This isn't mere delay; it's a symptom of a fractured system where good intentions clash with entrenched inefficiencies, threatening to derail the educational dreams of Nigeria's most vulnerable youth.
The students' plea, echoed in a viral open letter circulating on social media, cuts to the heart of the matter: "Despite NELFUND disbursing funds to our university for students, we are yet to receive ours." Signed by a coalition of KSUSTA undergraduates, the missive details months of unanswered queries, mounting debts, and the specter of academic suspension. One student, speaking anonymously to avoid reprisal, shared, "We've paid partial fees out of pocket, borrowing from relatives who can barely afford it. How do we repay loans we haven't even touched?" This echoes a broader outcry, with a April 2025 X post from a KSUSTA affiliate blasting the management for ignoring verification requests for three months, leaving institutional fees in limbo.
NELFUND, launched in 2024 under President Bola Tinubu's administration as a cornerstone of the Student Loans (Access to Higher Education) Act, was billed as a game-changer. Modeled after successful interest-free schemes in countries like Malaysia and Ethiopia, it aims to disburse up to ₦500,000 annually per student for fees and ₦20,000 monthly stipends for living expenses—targeting over 1.5 million beneficiaries by 2025. By September 2025, the fund had pumped over ₦100 billion into Kebbi State alone, supporting more than 500,000 students nationwide. Yet, beneath these headlines lies a troubling reality: disbursement to universities doesn't guarantee delivery to students. At KSUSTA, the March payout covered 1,200 eligible applicants, but follow-up audits reveal persistent bottlenecks.
The root cause? Data submission failures. In a damning revelation just days ago, NELFUND released a list of 203 tertiary institutions—including KSUSTA at position 135—that failed to upload verified student data for the 2024/2025 cycle. This oversight halts the final transfer, stranding funds in institutional coffers. As one X user lamented in a broader critique of the scheme, "Universities are determined to mess up this students loan disbursements," highlighting cases where graduated students still receive stipends without refunds, or institutions impose "processing fees" on top. At KSUSTA, this manifests as a verification blackout: Students apply via the NELFUND portal, get pre-approved, but the university's non-submission freezes the process.
Interpreting this fiasco requires peering beyond the procedural fog. Nigeria's tertiary education sector, long plagued by underfunding (with federal allocation hovering at a meager 7-8% of the national budget), views NELFUND as both boon and burden. Universities like KSUSTA, a state-owned institution founded in 2006 to drive agro-tech innovation in the northwest, grapple with outdated IT infrastructure and overworked admin staff. Submitting JAMB matriculation numbers, BVN-linked bank details, and session verifications for thousands of students demands robust digital backbones—resources many lack. A February 2025 report from the Foundation for Investigative Journalism detailed similar "inconsistent disbursements," where students faced hostel denials despite loan approvals, forcing self-funding that spirals into debt traps.
But is incompetence the full story? Whispers of deeper malaise persist. The National Orientation Agency (NOA) flagged in April 2025 that some universities and banks are "allegedly holding back" approved loans, even barring exam access until self-payments. Anti-corruption watchdogs, tipped off by NOA, are probing claims of diverted funds funneled into non-educational slush accounts. In Kebbi's context, where poverty rates exceed 70% and youth unemployment fuels banditry, such delays aren't benign—they're incendiary. A student at KSUSTA, majoring in agricultural engineering, told this reporter, "Without this loan, I'll drop out. My family's farm barely feeds us; how can I focus on lectures when hunger lectures louder?" Data from the National Bureau of Statistics underscores the stakes: 40% of Nigerian undergrads cite finances as a dropout trigger, with northern states like Kebbi hit hardest.
Zooming out, KSUSTA's plight mirrors a national epidemic. NELFUND's July 2025 resumption of upkeep payments cleared arrears for 3,600 students, but complaints surged anew by October, with X threads decrying "poor execution and communication." Graduates slam delayed refunds, while active students navigate "rejected" statuses post-disbursement—a glitch that left thousands in July 2025 confusion. The House of Representatives' August probe into NELFUND operations unearthed procedural lapses, including unmonitored institutional handoffs. Experts like Dr. Aisha Abdullahi, an education policy analyst at Ahmadu Bello University, argue this reveals a "trust deficit" in federal-state partnerships. "Funds reach vice-chancellors, but accountability evaporates," she notes. "Direct-to-student payments, as trialed in pilot phases, could bypass this—yet bureaucracy resists change."
The implications ripple far. For KSUSTA's 15,000-plus students, many first-gen learners from nomadic Fulani communities, delays exacerbate inequality. Women, comprising 35% of enrollment, face amplified risks: Unfunded studies often lead to early marriage or informal labor. Economically, stalling skilled graduates hampers Kebbi's pivot to tech-agri hybrids, vital against climate shocks. Politically, it erodes faith in Tinubu's "Renewed Hope" agenda; X sentiment analysis shows #NELFUND trending with 60% negative tones in October alone, branding it a "beautiful idea turning into a slow, confusing struggle."
NELFUND's response has been tepid. A October 15 X reply to a complainant emphasized, "We can only disburse to institutions that respond with data," shifting blame upstream. Yet, the fund's MD, Akintunde Sawyerr, warned institutions in April against "faulting procedures," hinting at sanctions. For KSUSTA, the university's March commendation of Governor Nasir Idris for waiving late fees rings hollow amid silence on loans. No public statement addresses the data failure; instead, portals remain glitchy, with students shuttling between NELFUND's site and campus bursaries.
This interpretive lens demands action, not platitudes. Reform NELFUND's model: Mandate direct bank transfers for stipends, audited via blockchain for transparency. Empower student unions with oversight dashboards—KSUSTA's, revitalized post-2025 elections could lead. Federally, tie allocations to data compliance, with clawbacks for defaulters. States like Kebbi must invest in digital admin; a ₦500 million federal grant for university IT could unlock billions in stalled loans.
As the harmattan winds sweep Aliero, KSUSTA students huddle in hostels, textbooks gathering dust. Their letter ends with a clarion: "Immediate action required." In a nation where education is the great equalizer, ignoring this isn't oversight—it's sabotage. Until the system evolves from reporting disbursements to ensuring delivery, NELFUND risks becoming another broken promise in Nigeria's hall of good intentions. The clock ticks; for these scholars, every delayed naira is a stolen tomorrow.