After more than four decades in academia and public service, former Vice-Chancellor of Obafemi Awolowo University, Prof. Michael Faborode, recalls his career, leadership lessons, and the challenges of translating university research into practical solutions. In this interview with Funmi Ogundare, the professor of Agricultural Engineering, who recently clocked 70, he discusses indigenous technology, institutional development, and his plans to advance higher education and innovation. Excerpts:
After over four decades in academia and public service, what does retirement mean to you at this point in your life?
To me, retirement means taking a break from it all, pausing to savour the legacies I have left behind, and charting a new engagement of stewardship to humanity and humane causes, albeit in less demanding ways. It has been a hectic, non-stop, pulsating working life of selfless service. Many were surprised to realise that I had clocked 70 years. To me really, the true measure of a life of leadership is what continues to flourish after a leader leaves office or one leaves the scene. Looking back over the many seasons of my life, I have come to appreciate that every opportunity to learn, to teach, to lead and to serve has been part of a much larger journey than I could ever have imagined. Along the way, I have been shaped by remarkable teachers, inspired by gifted colleagues, encouraged by faithful friends, and continually challenged by generations of students whose curiosity and aspirations renewed my own sense of purpose. Whatever I have been privileged to contribute has always been enriched by the lives and contributions of others. The memories I am leaving behind are captured in two books that were unveiled at my valedictory. Friends, academic colleagues, mentees and even senior compatriots, in one accord, decided to publish a collection of reflective essays, otherwise called a Festschrift, in my honour. It is titled ‘Technology, Leadership and Governance: Reflections in honour of Professor Michael Oladimeji Faborode’. The second book, which blends my own autobiographical reflections with those of some eminent scholars, is titled ‘A Tall Dream: Knowledge, Leadership, Institutional Transformation and Nation Building’, which traces my life journey from the cradle in my small village of Supare-Akoko in Ondo State to the Vice Chancellor’s office at Ife and beyond. Both are compelling reads, especially the memoir, and I hope people will take in their values. In fact, the evolution of the title of the book, ‘A Tall Dream ‘ and what the back-cover tree connotes, as narrated in the book, are themselves significantly interesting.
Looking back to your early schooling, did you ever imagine that your journey would lead to becoming an engineer, scholar and university administrator?
That is a very interesting question. As recorded in ‘A Tall Dream’, the most remarkable memory from my years at Victory College, in addition to being a comprehensive college offering a variety of technical and vocational subjects including technical drawing, wood and metal works, etc., came through an event that appeared entirely ordinary at the time. In early 1972, the school hosted an agricultural show that included a demonstration of a newly developed yam pounding machine designed by researchers from the University of Ife. As students, we watched with genuine curiosity as technology was applied to solve an everyday problem familiar to virtually every household. The machine attracted widespread attention because it represented something unusual: an indigenous technological innovation responding directly to local needs. How could I have known that the inventor of that machine, Prof. Gabriel Ayodele Makanjuola, would later become my teacher, mentor, and academic supervisor? How could I have imagined that I would eventually study Agricultural Engineering at the University of Ife, working within the very intellectual tradition whose fruits I had witnessed years earlier as a secondary school student? Even more remarkably, I could not have foreseen that my postgraduate journey would later take me to the University of Newcastle upon Tyne, where Prof. Makanjuola himself had received his doctoral training. I guess Victory College did not simply prepare me for university; it broadened my imagination, cultivated my intellectual discipline, and nurtured my habit of careful observation. However, I could not have imagined then the exciting possibility that knowledge could be applied to solve practical problems affecting ordinary people, nor that of becoming a scholar, let alone a university administrator, and ultimately a vice chancellor. But I can now say that it all started from home in Supare. There, I learnt to respect work, value education, accept correction, and appreciate the importance of serving something larger than oneself. The journey that would eventually lead me into engineering, scholarship, institutional leadership and public service did not begin with ambition. It began with formation from home.
What are the three most important lessons you have learnt from your 40 years in academia?
There are, of course, several lessons, so choosing the three most important will be difficult. However, if I must, I’ll identify what has shaped my life most profoundly: my time at university. Long before I held leadership positions, the university shaped how I thought, questioned, and understood the world. It taught me that knowledge carries responsibility; scholarship finds its highest purpose in service; and institutions matter because they preserve and transmit values from one generation to the next. Over the years, I came to see the university not simply as an academic community but as one of the nation’s most strategic institutions. Governments may change, economic conditions may fluctuate, and technologies may evolve, but universities provide the continuity through which societies renew themselves. They educate future leaders, advance scientific discovery, preserve intellectual traditions and create the ideas that influence public policy and national development. Their impact extends far beyond the boundaries of their campuses because the graduates they produce and the knowledge they generate ultimately shape every sector of society. My years in university leadership also revealed that this broader mission cannot be fulfilled through academic excellence alone. Universities must continually adapt to changing national realities while remaining faithful to their core values. They must build partnerships with industry, strengthen research ecosystems, embrace innovation and cultivate governance systems that inspire trust. I learned that institutional transformation requires more than strategic plans; it requires a shared sense of purpose that enables staff, students and stakeholders to work together in pursuit of a common vision. Hence, universities remain among humanity’s greatest institutions because they create something that appreciates rather than diminishes with time: knowledge. Yet knowledge alone does not transform nations. It must be organised, shared and applied through institutions capable of converting ideas into solutions that improve society.
If you had the opportunity to start your academic career again, what would you do differently?
I will still return to read engineering. My years in engineering have continued to shape my perspective on the excellence, integrity, and resilience of human institutions. Engineering taught me that every well-designed system is expected to perform reliably long after its designer has completed the work. Success is measured not merely by the brilliance of the original design but by the system’s capacity to continue functioning effectively under changing conditions. I recognise that the same principle applies to institutions. Leadership is most successful when the structures, processes and values established during one generation continue to strengthen the institution through the next. The ultimate test of institutional design is therefore continuity, not personality. I also came to understand that institution-building is fundamentally an exercise in patience. Unlike projects with clearly defined completion dates, institutions are never truly finished. Every generation inherits unfinished work, addresses the challenges of its own time and leaves further responsibilities for those who follow. This requires humility. No leader accomplishes everything. No administration resolves every problem. Our task is simply to ensure that the institution is stronger, wiser and better prepared than it was when responsibility was entrusted to us. Progress is therefore cumulative, built patiently through the faithful contributions of many individuals across many years. I thus see engineering not simply as a profession, but as a way to understand society’s challenges and apply knowledge to solve them. It teaches disciplined thinking, systems analysis and the practical application of ideas for human benefit. These principles shaped not only my work as an academic and researcher but also my understanding of leadership, institutional development and national transformation. I will only ensure that my advocacy for resources to support institutional growth structurally is more strident. The world must not tolerate leaders who are selfish, self-centred and nationally unpatriotic.
Why do you think Nigeria has struggled to translate the innovations produced in its universities and research institutions into technologies that ordinary Nigerians can use?
Throughout my career, I have been privileged to work with students, researchers and colleagues whose ingenuity convinced me that Nigeria does not suffer from a shortage of ideas. What has often limited our progress is our ability to create environments in which those ideas can mature into innovations that strengthen our economies and improve the lives of our people. Innovation is therefore not simply the product of individual brilliance; it is the outcome of societies or ecosystems that deliberately invest in research, nurture talent and provide opportunities for innovative ideas to flourish. Indeed, I find myself filled with both hope and responsibility. Hope, because our nation possesses extraordinary intellectual talent, youthful energy and an abundance of opportunities for scientific and technological advancement. Responsibility, because these strengths alone will not secure our future. They must be supported by institutions that encourage discovery, policies that reward innovation and cultures that celebrate creativity, discipline and excellence. If my journey has taught me one lesson, it is that genuine transformation begins with a change in how we imagine ourselves. Nations that believe in their capacity to solve their own problems are more likely to invest in the knowledge, institutions and people required to do so. That is the future I have always hoped for Nigeria: a future built on excellence, sustained by integrity, enriched by innovation and guided by a shared commitment to the common good. It is a future that demands much of us, but it is also a future that I believe remains entirely within our reach. If there is one lesson I would leave with future scholars, it is this: never separate knowledge from purpose. Let research remain rigorous, but also relevant. Let innovation pursue excellence, but let it also pursue service. Let universities continue to defend academic freedom while embracing their responsibility to contribute to society. When these commitments are held together, knowledge becomes far more than an intellectual achievement; it becomes a force capable of transforming nations and enriching humanity. But knowledge alone cannot transform society; Ideas require institutions that can implement them, leaders who can champion them and governance systems that can sustain them. The quality of our leadership, the strength of our institutions and the integrity of our public life ultimately determine whether the fruits of research and innovation become enduring instruments of national development.
What are the biggest challenges currently confronting Agricultural Engineering education and research in Nigeria, and how can Nigerian universities make Agricultural Engineering more responsive to challenges such as food insecurity, mechanisation, post-harvest losses and climate change?
Over the many decades I have devoted to agricultural engineering, I have become increasingly convinced that Nigeria’s (and Africa’s) future will be shaped, in no small measure, by the future of its agriculture and how it cohabits with emerging digital and resilient technologies. Throughout my professional journey, I never regarded agriculture simply as a source of food or employment. I have always seen it as the foundation on which industrial development, economic resilience, and, of course, food security and social stability can be built. Our agricultural systems must be capable of responding to changing climatic conditions, population growth, evolving markets and new technological opportunities. This requires investments in research, improved infrastructure, skilled human capital and institutions that encourage continuous innovation. Agriculture can no longer be viewed as a traditional sector standing apart from science and technology; it has become one of the principal arenas in which knowledge is translated into sustainable development. The curriculum of agricultural engineering in our universities must reflect this holistic vision to be valuable to society by producing responsive graduates who will catalyse the transformation of our agriculture amid contemporary and emerging challenges.
What role should universities play in developing indigenous technologies rather than relying heavily on imported solutions?
For me, a technology’s greatest value lies not in its sophistication but in its relevance and fitness for purpose. Throughout my career as an agricultural engineer, I was continually reminded that the most successful technologies are not necessarily the most advanced; they are the ones that respond effectively to the needs, resources and circumstances of the people they are intended to serve. Technology becomes transformative when it is appropriate, accessible and capable of improving everyday life. This conviction shaped much of my own work in engineering and agricultural development. I never regarded technology as an end in itself. Rather, I saw it as an instrument for expanding opportunity, increasing productivity and improving human well-being. Whether designing equipment, supporting research or strengthening institutions, I remained convinced that innovation should be guided by the realities of society rather than by the attraction of novelty alone. Technologies that cannot be adopted, maintained or adapted within local contexts seldom achieve lasting impact. Our challenges are distinctive, and while we have much to learn from the experiences of other regions, our most enduring solutions will emerge when we combine global knowledge with local understanding. Technology should therefore reflect the environments in which people live, the resources available to them and the aspirations they seek to fulfil. Development is strengthened when innovation grows from within rather than being imposed from outside. As illustrated earlier, the yam-pounding machines represent a responsive technology that solves domestic problems.
What were the most difficult leadership decisions you had to make during your career?
Every leader eventually encounters moments when principle is tested by circumstance. From my years in university leadership, I have come to recognise that these moments often reveal more about leadership than periods of stability ever can. They require decisions that are seldom straightforward, where competing expectations, institutional pressures and public scrutiny converge. There was the case of a high-ranking academic staff member accused of plagiarism, that is, using the work of others without clear permission or proper acknowledgement. In such circumstances, “authority should never replace due process”. While leadership inevitably involves making decisions, it also requires the discipline to distinguish between situations that call for quick personal intervention and those that demand confidence in the institution’s own systems. Universities derive much of their strength from shared governance, where responsibility is distributed across senate, council and other statutory bodies. Respecting those structures was not an administrative formality; it was an expression of confidence in the institution itself. As recorded in ‘A Tall Dream’, ‘an investigative committee was constituted and entrusted with the responsibility of examining the issues before it. From the outset, I considered it essential that the committee should carry out its work without interference from my office. Once its assignment had been completed, its report was submitted through the University’s recognised governance structures, where it received appropriate consideration before decisions were taken’. Looking back, I remain convinced that the greatest service a leader can sometimes render is not to dominate institutional processes but to protect them. Institutions earn legitimacy when their procedures are respected, particularly during moments of controversy. Another testy moment came when the leadership of the three combined unions on campus, including, strangely, the academic staff union (ASUU), conspired to mislead their members into believing there was what they called a double deduction of pension savings. Convinced that nothing was amiss and bolstered by a trusted bursar and bursary staff, I asked that we set up a committee comprised of the management and the unions with a membership of six, three from either side and headed by their nominee so that they could control how the investigation was managed. It was unbelievable that they reneged on the committee after realising their insincerity would be exposed. A leader’s character and integrity must be solid enough to withstand challenges to their courage.
You said the true measure of leadership is what continues to flourish after a leader leaves office. What do you believe should remain as your institutional legacy and what is the next step for you as you retire from the university?
From the Festschrift in my honour, I am excited by the stunning coherence and resonance of views from diverse backgrounds and generations who assert that my institutional legacy cannot be reduced to buildings, offices or administrative accomplishments alone; rather, the more enduring legacy lies in stronger academic communities, healthier professional networks and institutional cultures that continue to value excellence, collaboration and service, and have become living legacies because they continue to express the ideals upon which they were strengthened through my exploits. As for my next steps, Nigeria today has more than 300 universities. The difficulties they face are not, for the most part, difficulties of talent; rather, they are difficulties of institutional design, of funding strategy, of the patient and unglamorous work of building partnerships, and of the missing link between a laboratory bench and the industry that needs what that bench has produced. These are precisely the problems I have spent 40 years learning to solve, one institution at a time, and I am not persuaded that the learning ought to retire merely because the man has reached the age at which he must. The MF Centre for Higher Education and Engineering Innovation is established as a working enterprise for that reason. It will ultimately be judged by the institutions it succeeds in strengthening, by the research it carries out from the laboratory into industry, and by the young people it equips to continue that work long after those of us who began it have finished. Let me briefly take you back down memory lane: More than 50 years ago, a boy stood in the grounds of a secondary school, Victory College, in Ikare-Akoko and watched a machine pound yam. He did not know the name of the man who had designed and built that machine. He did not know that he would one day study under that same man, nor that he would follow him to the very university in England at which that man had taken his doctorate, nor that he would spend the whole of his working life within the intellectual tradition that had produced the machine he was watching. I have thought a great deal, in these recent years, about what that boy was in fact watching on that afternoon; he was watching knowledge leave a laboratory and arrive in the life of an ordinary household. Everything I have attempted in the 40 years since has been, in one form or another, an effort to shorten that journey of profitable knowledge transfer, and to see it made a great deal more often. That work is not finished, and no single lifetime was ever going to prove sufficient to complete such a task. But the work is standing, and there are hands prepared to carry it further than I have been able to carry it myself. It has been the privilege of my generation to contribute its chapter. It is now the privilege and responsibility of those who follow to write the next.