By Oyewole O. Sarumi
The recent publication of a list by the United States Department of Homeland Security identifying seventy-nine Nigerian nationals among what it termed the “worst-of-the-worst” criminal aliens slated for deportation has generated understandable outrage, shame, and deep emotional reactions within Nigerian and diaspora communities.
The offences attributed to those named are grave: drug trafficking, sexual violence, robbery, fraud, assault, and manslaughter. These are not minor infractions; they are serious crimes that deserve firm legal consequences wherever they are committed.
Yet the intense reaction within Yoruba communities, particularly to the appearance of many Yoruba names on the list, goes beyond legal condemnation. It strikes at the heart of a people whose collective identity has historically been rooted in moral formation, communal responsibility, and a culture of excellence.
However, to respond only with cultural indignation would be insufficient and, in some respects, evasive. While individuals are fully responsible for their crimes, societies and leadership structures shape the moral ecosystems in which individuals are formed.
When leadership deprioritises education, abandons youth development, tolerates political thuggery, and privileges prestige projects over human capital, it weakens the ethical foundations of society.
What we are witnessing in the international embarrassment of criminal deportations is therefore not merely the failure of individual character, but also the long-term consequence of leadership failures at home.
This article is a rejoinder, not in defence of criminals, but in defence of Yoruba values, Yoruba civilisation, and the millions of law-abiding Yoruba men and women across the world whose lives of integrity are now overshadowed by the misconduct of a few. It is also a call for serious introspection among political elites whose policy choices have hollowed out the very institutions that once made Yorubaland a beacon of education, character, and competence.
Yoruba Civilisation and the Moral Architecture of Omoluwabi
The Yoruba are one of Africa’s most historically coherent civilisations, with a cultural memory stretching back centuries before colonial contact. The civilisational achievements of ancient Ile-Ife and Oyo testify to sophisticated systems of governance, artistry, metallurgy, trade, and social organisation. Yoruba cosmology, language, and ethical philosophy developed organically around communal interdependence, respect for elders, dignity of labour, and moral self-discipline. Central to this worldview is the concept of Omoluwabi, a moral ideal that emphasises good character as the highest form of human achievement. In traditional Yoruba thought, wealth without character was hollow; power without integrity was dangerous; and intelligence without moral restraint was destructive.
This moral architecture was not abstract philosophy. It was embedded in child-rearing practices, communal sanctions, rites of passage, storytelling, proverbs, and public recognition. A child was not raised by parents alone, but by the village. Deviant behaviour attracted communal correction. Honour accrued not only to individual achievement, but to the family and community that produced such a person. This system of moral formation helped produce generations of disciplined professionals, educators, civil servants, entrepreneurs, and public intellectuals who earned respect far beyond Nigeria’s borders.
It is therefore painful to witness behaviours that contradict this legacy being publicly associated with Yoruba identity in international spaces. Criminal conduct abroad does not merely stain individual reputations; it symbolically injures a collective moral heritage that was painstakingly cultivated over centuries.
Education as the Engine of Yoruba Modernity
If Omoluwabi was the moral engine of Yoruba society, education was the modern vehicle through which that moral vision was translated into social progress. The Western Region of Nigeria, under the leadership of Chief Obafemi Awolowo, pioneered free primary education in the 1950s, decades ahead of many parts of Africa. This policy was not merely about literacy; it was a civilisational strategy. It created a mass of educated citizens who could staff civil service institutions, lead professions, build industries, and participate meaningfully in democratic life. The South West became synonymous with schools, teachers, libraries, publishing houses, universities, and a thriving intellectual culture.
This educational advantage produced generations of firsts: the earliest cohorts of Nigerian doctors, lawyers, engineers, journalists, academics, administrators, and technocrats. Yoruba professionals were prominent in shaping Nigeria’s post-independence institutions and were respected across Africa and the wider world for competence and discipline. Education was both a pathway to social mobility and a moral instrument of character formation. Schools were not merely sites of instruction; they were spaces where discipline, civic duty, and ethical conduct were cultivated.
When Political Leadership Abandons Education: The Silent Collapse of a Proud Legacy
One of the most painful ironies in the present Yoruba predicament is that the region once celebrated as Nigeria’s intellectual engine has, through the negligence and short-sightedness of its political leadership, gradually undermined the very foundation that made it great. The South West of Nigeria was historically synonymous with educational excellence. From the pioneering free primary education policy of the Western Region in the 1950s under Chief Obafemi Awolowo, to the early establishment of quality secondary schools and universities, Yorubaland built a reputation for intellectual seriousness, social mobility through education, and disciplined leadership formation. Education was not merely a sector; it was a cultural project and a civilisational mission.
Today, that legacy is visibly eroding. Public primary and secondary schools across both urban and rural communities in the South West are in a state of neglect. Many classrooms are dilapidated, learning materials are outdated or unavailable, teachers are poorly motivated, and learning outcomes have declined. Disturbingly, recent national education data and independent research now show that even the South West, once the pride of Nigeria’s literacy indices, has begun to record out-of-school children in some states. This is a moral and political failure of historic proportions. A zone that once exported teachers to other regions of Nigeria now struggles to guarantee basic learning conditions for its own children.
Even more corrosive is the political instrumentalisation of youth unemployment and hopelessness. Many young men who should be in classrooms, technical colleges, or apprenticeships are instead recruited by politicians as thugs, errand boys, and enforcers during electoral seasons. This normalisation of political violence and moral compromise deforms character at a formative stage of life. It teaches young people that proximity to power matters more than competence, and that intimidation can replace merit. At the same time, economic desperation and social decay have pushed many young women into transactional relationships and prostitution, practices that were once strongly frowned upon in Yoruba society and only whispered about in dark corners. What was once culturally unacceptable is now becoming socially visible, not because values have changed for the better, but because survival has been weaponised against dignity.
The tragedy is deepened by the failure of South West political leaders to cooperate across state lines in pursuit of shared developmental goals. Historically, the strength of the Western Region lay in coordinated planning, collective vision, and regional solidarity around education, health, and infrastructure. Today, partisan rivalry has replaced regional strategy. Leaders of the same cultural bloc often refuse to collaborate simply because they belong to different political parties, even when cooperation would advance the educational and economic future of millions of children. This fragmentation of vision has left the region without a coherent education renewal agenda, despite shared cultural values and shared developmental challenges.
Meanwhile, public spending priorities reflect a disturbing distortion of leadership ethics. In a context where schools are crumbling and teachers are struggling, resources are channelled into prestige projects such as underutilised airports, lavish government houses, and exclusive estates that benefit political elites and their cronies. These projects may create the illusion of development, but they do not build human capital. They do not nurture minds. They do not shape character. They do not secure the future. Societies rise or fall not on the grandeur of their buildings, but on the quality of their people.
There is a Yoruba proverb that captures this moral logic with painful clarity: if you do not educate your children, you have no moral authority to condemn them when they go astray. When political leaders systematically deprioritise education, they indirectly manufacture the very social problems they later condemn—crime, moral decay, political violence, and youth vulnerability to transnational criminal networks. When a young person grows up in a collapsing school system, without skills, mentorship, or hope of dignified employment, society has already failed them long before they fail society.
From Community Formation to Moral Drift: What Changed?
The erosion of communal child-rearing practices has also contributed to moral drift. Urbanisation, economic pressure, and the weakening of extended family structures have reduced the communal oversight that once shaped behaviour. In many urban settings today, neighbours no longer correct one another’s children, and families are isolated within survival struggles. The social mechanisms that once enforced behavioural norms have weakened. At the same time, global media influences have reshaped aspirations and norms, often glorifying wealth without work, power without accountability, and fame without virtue.
Migration further complicates this picture. Many young Nigerians travel abroad with high expectations but encounter harsh realities of marginalisation, precarious legal status, and social isolation. Without strong moral anchors and support networks, some drift into criminal subcultures. This does not absolve them of responsibility; it underscores the importance of pre-migration character formation and post-migration support systems.
The Many Yoruba Who Make Us Proud
Against this backdrop of concern, it is crucial to reaffirm that Yoruba civilisation continues to produce individuals of extraordinary integrity and global impact. From pioneering intellectuals like Samuel Ajayi Crowther, who transformed African linguistics and theology, to cultural custodians like Akinwunmi Isola, who championed Yoruba language and heritage in literature and drama, to contemporary professionals excelling in medicine, law, technology, academia, and entrepreneurship across continents, the Yoruba story remains largely one of contribution, not criminality. These men and women embody the living tradition of Omoluwabi in modern contexts. They are proof that character formation remains possible even amid social decay.
Rejecting Collective Stigmatization While Owning Collective Responsibility
It is unjust and intellectually lazy to stigmatise an entire ethnic group for the crimes of individuals. Collective punishment and stereotyping are ethically indefensible. At the same time, cultural communities have a collective responsibility to interrogate the social conditions that shape behaviour. Yoruba society must resist denialism and confront the uncomfortable reality that leadership failures, educational neglect, moral complacency, and political corruption have weakened the moral ecosystem in which young people are formed.
Rebuilding the Foundations: What Must Change
The path forward requires a deliberate recommitment to education, character formation, youth empowerment, and regional cooperation. Reinvesting in public education infrastructure, professionalising teaching, integrating character education rooted in Yoruba ethical philosophy, and creating dignified economic pathways for young people are essential. Political leaders in the South West must transcend partisan rivalry to articulate a shared vision for human capital development. Without such a vision, prestige infrastructure projects will remain hollow symbols of progress without substance.
Civil society, traditional institutions, religious bodies, and diaspora networks must also play their part in mentoring youth, restoring communal accountability, and celebrating ethical excellence. The revival of Yoruba values cannot be achieved through rhetoric alone; it requires institutional reform, policy coherence, and moral courage.
A Moral Challenge to Yoruba Political Elites
This moment demands more than lamentation; it demands leadership repentance and renewal. Yoruba political elites must confront an uncomfortable truth: the erosion of education, the normalisation of political thuggery, and the prioritisation of elite comfort over youth development have weakened the moral fabric of society. The shame of seeing Yoruba names associated with grave crimes abroad is not merely a diaspora problem; it is a mirror reflecting domestic policy failures.
History will not judge today’s leaders by the number of airports, government houses, or luxury estates they commission, but by the quality of citizens they help to produce. A society that abandons its schools abandons its future. A leadership class that weaponises unemployed youth for political gain corrodes the moral foundations of the nation. The Yoruba civilisation did not become great by building monuments; it became great by building people.
The challenge before Yoruba political elites is therefore moral as much as developmental. Will they recommit to education as a civilisational priority? Will they collaborate across partisan lines to rebuild the human capital that once distinguished the region? Will they invest in the character and competence of the next generation rather than in personal prestige? The answers to these questions will determine whether future headlines speak of Yoruba excellence or Yoruba embarrassment.
The Yoruba identity is not under siege because of the crimes of a few; it is under siege because of the neglect of many in positions of power. Reclaiming our moral legacy requires courage, humility, and decisive leadership. Only then can we ensure that the global Yoruba story is once again told primarily through narratives of integrity, hard work, intellectual excellence, and love of humanity, rather than through the shameful misconduct of those who never embodied what it truly means to be Omoluwabi.
Prof. Sarumi, a digital transformation architect, writes from Lagos