By Boma Nwuke

When the Nigerian government announced the inclusion of Mandarin in the secondary school curriculum, it sounded like another bold experiment in education. Beneath the excitement, however, lies a familiar question: will this policy endure, or will it go the way of French, once compulsory in public schools but now reduced to a token subject in only a handful of institutions?
For many, the decision marks a new chapter in Nigeria’s educational journey. Mandarin, alongside a few other foreign languages, is now part of the national curriculum. Already, schools in the Federal Capital Territory have begun implementation, with the Chinese Embassy distributing textbooks and cultural materials to ease the process. Supporters hail it as a forward-looking move; critics dismiss it as another passing experiment shaped more by foreign ties than national priorities.
The choice of Mandarin is not accidental. The Chinese language is spoken by more than one billion people, making it the most widely spoken language in the world. Beyond its numbers, Mandarin has become the linguistic passport to understanding China’s economic, political, and cultural influence in the 21st century.
But in Nigeria, the inclusion raises a familiar question: is this a genuine investment in future-ready education, or yet another foreign experiment that will fizzle out as governments change hands?
To understand this concern, it is worth looking back at history. Decades ago, under the 6-5-4 system of education, French was introduced as a compulsory subject at the junior level. The idea then was to bridge Nigeria with its Francophone neighbors.
French, however, never lived up to its promise in Nigeria’s public school system. Tongue-twisting and difficult for many students, it quickly became a subject of dread. With successive regime changes, French lost its official spotlight, surviving mainly in some private schools and select institutions.
Today, French remains a useful language in international diplomacy and West African integration. Yet, for Nigerian students, its foothold has been reduced to pockets of elitist education, far from the original vision of nationwide fluency.
This precedent naturally raises fears: will Mandarin follow the same path? Will the fanfare of today turn into disinterest tomorrow when the political winds change or when Nigeria’s partnership with China weakens?
Unlike French, however, Mandarin is tied to something more than cultural exchange. It is tied to commerce. China is Nigeria’s biggest trading partner, the country’s largest external creditor, and a strategic player in Africa’s infrastructural growth.
For the government, equipping young Nigerians with Mandarin may appear to be a way of preparing the workforce for future collaborations. It is a gesture towards building a bridge into China’s economic and technological space.
But education is never just about economic alliances. At its core, it is about identity, empowerment, and preparing a nation’s citizens to thrive in a competitive world. The larger question remains: how does learning Mandarin advance Nigeria’s educational priorities?
Nigeria’s students already grapple with underfunded schools, poor infrastructure, and overcrowded classrooms. Adding Mandarin to the curriculum may be forward-thinking, but will it be sustainable in an environment where even English proficiency remains a challenge?
Critics also worry that the policy reflects more of Nigeria’s dependency on foreign powers than a carefully thought-out curriculum reform. Is Nigeria merely aligning with China’s soft power ambitions, or does it have a concrete roadmap for multilingual advantage?
There is, of course, no denying the power of multilingualism. A student who can switch between languages instantly widens his or her world of opportunities. Language is not only about words; it is about culture, perspective, and access.
In this light, learning Mandarin could help Nigerian students tap into scholarships, cultural exchanges, and direct academic collaborations with China. Already, many Nigerian students are in Chinese universities studying engineering, medicine, and technology under various bilateral scholarships.
Mandarin could therefore act as a bridge, not only for trade but also for knowledge transfer. The challenge is ensuring it does not end up as a cosmetic subject taught without depth or continuity.
The Chinese government has been intentional about promoting its language worldwide. Through Confucius Institutes, cultural programs, and education exchange, China has spread Mandarin across Africa, Europe, and America. Nigeria is simply joining the trend.
The difference lies in how Nigeria chooses to own the process. If Mandarin is treated as just another “foreign subject” with no link to national needs, it risks becoming another policy relic like French.
On the flip side, if Nigeria strategically connects Mandarin education with trade, technology, tourism, and innovation, then the policy could produce a generation of Nigerians who are not only linguistically skilled but also globally competitive.
Parents and educators also play a role here. For the policy to succeed, schools must create an environment where Mandarin is not seen as an imposition but as an exciting tool of empowerment. That means training teachers, integrating culture, and connecting the language to real-life opportunities.
Still, the concerns cannot be ignored. China is Nigeria’s largest external creditor, with billions of dollars in loans tied to infrastructure. To skeptics, the Mandarin policy is another way of cementing China’s influence in Nigeria—soft power wrapped in textbooks and culture.
But even that raises an important reality: in a world increasingly defined by global competition, power is not only exercised through trade and technology but also through language. By learning Mandarin, Nigeria may be positioning itself within this new reality.
Yet, the policy must be balanced with the need to promote indigenous languages. While Nigeria embraces Mandarin, it must not neglect Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, and hundreds of other native languages that are at risk of extinction.
True multilingualism is not about replacing one’s language with another but about enriching communication. Mandarin should not be seen as an enemy of Nigerian identity but as a complement, provided local languages are also protected and developed.
At the end of the day, the inclusion of Mandarin in Nigeria’s secondary school curriculum is both an opportunity and a test. It is an opportunity for Nigerian students to access new worlds of commerce and culture. It is also a test of Nigeria’s commitment to sustainable education policy.
The world will be watching to see whether Nigeria treats Mandarin as a serious tool of empowerment or just another fleeting experiment. For now, the question remains: beyond loans, trade, and diplomacy, what does Nigeria truly stand to gain from speaking Mandarin?
Mandarin in Nigerian schools is more than a language policy; it is a litmus test of whether the country can sustain bold ideas in education. If it becomes another abandoned experiment, the loss will not only be in wasted effort but in missed opportunities for a generation. But if Nigeria treats this seriously—connecting it to commerce, culture, and national development,then our students may not just speak Mandarin; they may also speak the language of global relevance.