Walk into any university library a week before examinations, and every seat is occupied. The reading rooms are filled with students going through their notes, discussing ideas and preparing for their exams.
Walk into that same library in the middle of the semester, however, and the silence tells a different story.
Perhaps that contrast says more about our education system than we are willing to admit.
Across Ghana’s universities, concerns about declining academic performance continue to surface in lecture halls, faculty meetings and academic studies. The explanations often come quickly: students are distracted, they do not read enough, or they simply lack discipline.
While these concerns may hold some truth, they tell only part of the story.
Perhaps the more important question is not why students are performing poorly, but what learning has become.
Somewhere along the line, education seems to have shifted from a journey of curiosity to a transaction.
For many students, the goal is no longer to understand but to pass. The question is no longer, “What can I learn?” but “Will this come in the exam?”
Learning has become a means to earn a degree, secure a job or obtain a certificate rather than an opportunity to discover, question and grow.
Can we really blame students for this shift?
University today looks very different from what it did a decade ago.
Many students are navigating rising living costs, financial uncertainty, family expectations and an increasingly competitive job market that constantly reminds them that a degree alone may no longer be enough. Alongside these pressures are growing concerns about mental health and burnout—challenges that often remain invisible but profoundly affect learning.
A 2025 study involving undergraduate students at the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology found that severe depression was significantly associated with lower academic performance, while students with stronger academic self-efficacy consistently achieved better results. The findings suggest that academic success depends not only on intelligence or effort but also on students’ psychological well-being.
This does not absolve students of responsibility.
Discipline still matters. Preparation still matters. Taking ownership of one’s education will always matter.
But responsibility should not rest on students alone.
We often tell students to work harder.
Rarely do we ask whether we have made learning easier to love.
Curiosity cannot thrive where exhaustion has become normal. Excellence struggles where survival becomes the priority. Before we ask why students are failing, perhaps we should ask what kind of learning environment we have created for them.
Universities were never meant to produce graduates who simply memorise information long enough to pass examinations.
They exist to produce thinkers.
That means classrooms where questions are welcomed rather than discouraged; lecturers who inspire understanding instead of rewarding memorisation; and institutions that recognise student well-being as part of academic success rather than something separate from it.
Students, too, must rediscover that education is more than earning grades. The most valuable lessons acquired at university are often the ability to think critically, solve unfamiliar problems and remain curious long after graduation.
The conversation about declining academic performance should, therefore, move beyond assigning blame.
It should become a conversation about how we can make learning meaningful again.
Because the real crisis is not simply that grades may be declining.
It is that too many students are beginning to see education as something to survive rather than something to embrace.
If we continue to celebrate certificates while neglecting curiosity, we may produce more graduates but fewer innovators, researchers and problem-solvers.
Perhaps the question is no longer whether students are studying enough.
Perhaps it is whether we have made learning worth falling in love with again.
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Story by JisLord Ablorh | univers.ug.edu.gh
Edited by Gabriel Tecco Mensah
