Students in Nigerian universities have stories to tell, but hardly anyone to tell them to. For our weekly series, Aluta and Chill, we are putting the spotlight on these students and their various campus experiences.

Our subject for this week had a lot of expectations before she enrolled for her Master’s degree programme. She soon realised the system was not built to add to what she already knew. She shares her frustration about her uninterested lecturers and their regurgitated lessons.

Tell me about how you started this master’s journey.

I finished my first degree in Biochemistry in 2016. I was going to apply for my master’s degree programme immediately, but the school management —  Unilorin where I did my undergrad — changed the admission requirements and made an NYSC certificate a prerequisite before your application could be considered.  So I applied in 2018, and got in. 

Why did you want to do your masters immediately? 

It felt like the next thing to do. There were no jobs — although I once worked briefly as an executive assistant — and travelling out of the country was not an option, so I believed going back to school could give me an edge. I believed a postgraduate degree would give my employability a huge boost.

That’s fair. Why did you go back to your alma mata?

I like my comfort zone, and Unilorin has become one. Also, Unilorin made a good impression on me during undergrad. There were no strikes and the stability banged, so I thought it was better to continue with a system that worked.

Ah,  I see. Were you excited to start your degree? 

Naturally, I don’t get hyped for anything. The masters was a means to an end – it was me trying to put myself out there.I had expectations, though. I thought it was going to build on and expand what I had already learned during my time as an undergraduate. I expected that everything I did there would be driven by research, but I have only a few months to go, and most of the things I’ve done, save for my dissertation, are purely theoretical. This irks me a lot, especially since we were only about 40 in my class, as opposed to the over 200 classmates I had when I was studying for my first degree. There was supposed to be more interaction with lecturers, but they’ve been aloof.

That’s quite the twist.

Yes, it is. When the series of events started, I was like what’s going on? I could have about four lectures scheduled for a day, and only one lecturer would show up. And the lecturer that showed up wouldn’t say anything I hadn’t heard or learned before. The best ones would give a quick rundown of the course and leave us to figure the rest out. There was this lecturer who came and dumped an exact material I used for a course I did when I was studying for my first degree. Yes, it’s that bad. Most of the things I’m learning are exactly what we did when I was an undergraduate.

By the time I wrote my first-semester exam, I realised that I might have played myself. I contemplated putting a stop to it and getting out of the messy arrangement, but I’d spent money and it wouldn’t make sense to anyone or myself if I dropped out of school at the time. But the fact that I couldn’t really do anything about it made me sad. Really sad. 

How did this affect your relationship with your master’s degree?

It filled me with a lot of anxiety, and I may have become disillusioned with the idea of getting a postgraduate degree. It became clear that I had to look for other means to get the knowledge I was looking for, and Youtube came into the picture. 

Tech always comes through.

Even before I started my masters, I’d always turned to Youtube about pretty much everything. I was in a molecular biology class, and as usual, nothing was making sense. The lecturer came in for a moment, dropped the material, and went on his merry way. I was close to freaking out on how to consume it with little guidance, when a classmate casually mentioned Youtube. It felt like a breakthrough – I was actually surprised that I hadn’t thought of that. Youtube became my classroom in every sense. And get this; I feel like these Youtube lessons are more interactive than what goes on in the lecture rooms. It’s strange that I’m getting more from strangers thousands of miles away. But it works, and I’ve decided to stick with it.

How much did these Youtube lessons level the playing field for you?

It’s helped in ways I didn’t even think of. I used to be so anxious about lecturers going AWOL and the sheer volume of materials I’d have to consume on my own, but after I discovered Youtube, I was prepared to walk into any exam hall knowing I wouldn’t flunk any exam. Really, it’s changed a lot, and I’ve learned more from Youtube than I have from any lecturer. Can you believe that? 

I can. But what do you think is the reason for the apathy on the part of your lecturers?

It’s just the way the system is set-up. The ‘anyhowness’ this country is notorious for. I have no idea of what’s going on behind the scenes but I feel like they would rather write papers and attend seminars and conferences. It’s how they amass respect in the academic circles after all. The more they get published, the higher they climb the rungs of the ladder. Of course, there will be a conflict of interest and a disconnect.

Have you tried letting any one of them know?

Absolutely not! You can never win with Nigerians, especially when they are older than you. The power play everyone with a modicum of authority likes to exhibit is quite comical. I’m not here to make a wave or put a target on my back, so the best thing to do is to find a way to make the arrangement work. This, if anything, only exposes how much of a trainwreck the educational sector and academic standards in Nigeria are. You know, I blame myself a lot for this.

Why is that?

I didn’t exactly research the master’s degree programme at my department. I thought I was familiar with the workings of Unilorin and knew everything I needed to know. I feel awful about it now. At least,  I could have asked one or two people and worked with whatever I got from them. Even if I was still going to come here, I would be equipped with the heads-up and wouldn’t deal with the rude shock I got. 

This masters is the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I’m just here, fighting not to switch to auto-pilot. On some days, I woke up and wondered why I even bothered to go to class since there was a high chance that the lecturers wouldn’t show up. That was last year when I was still doing coursework. I’m writing my dissertation now, and still, I’m in that zone where I become tired and uninterested every time I turn on my laptop to work. I still contemplate dropping out. I won’t do it, but it’s nice to think about it. I’m pushing through, but life could be better. Nigerian education is going to complete and utter shit, and it needs a fix. ASAP!

Amen! 

It’s unfair the way the education structure is set up. The lecturers could really do better. To be fair, some of them seem like they enjoy what they do. On the other hand, others couldn’t care less – it’s very clear from their body language. If I wasn’t a cast member in this movie, I might even laugh at it.

Do you think you might have a better experience in a different school?

There’s no way to know for sure. However, if this had happened in a different school, I wouldn’t feel so defeated. I would know that  I explored another option. My lack of adventure seems to be my undoing. I’m not even going to lie; it feels like I’m wasting my time here. The only thing that fuels my excitement is that there is a certificate waiting for me at the end of it. This misery is temporary, and I can’t wait for it to end. I will defend my dissertation in a few months, go home, wait for my result, and eventually, I will forget that this fuckery ever happened.

Is it safe to say you are done with school?

The plan was to start my PhD process immediately after masters, but with my experience, that will have to wait – and that’s if I want to go down this road again. I’m not entirely ruling it out; the idea of a PhD sounds nice, but it’s going to have to wait.  I’m so tired. Nothing in this country works, and I can’t let it consume me.

I feel you. If you had to do this again, what would you change?

Go to a different school, maybe. Also,  I would ask more questions to get a better insight into what I’m getting myself in. This could have changed everything for me.

What are you looking forward to the most?

First, the plan is to forget that this ever happened and move on with my life. Moving on with my life means finding a job, which I have already started searching for. I’m looking forward to breaking into the labour market. It’s time to become an adult.

Are you currently studying in Nigeria or elsewhere and have a story to share about your life in school? Please take a minute to fill this form and we will reach out to you ASAP.

Can’t get enough Aluta and Chill? Check back every Thursday at noon for a new episode. Find other stories in the series here.

You’ve heard about post-NYSC depression, but it feels abstract to you. It’s just your passing out parade. You are elated. For starters, you’ll ditch the khaki and forget the nightmare that was CDS. You take a slew of pictures, both hands cradling your certificate stretched towards the camera. You’re also ambivalent. You say goodbye to the friends you made during your service year. You promise to keep in touch. You leave to face the real world. Slowly, you begin to realise how messy the job eco-system is and how real post-NYSC depression is.

This is an ongoing topic, so we asked four Nigerian graduates to share their thoughts about this syndrome:

Henrietta, 23

It’s funny how post-NYSC depression creeps up on you; one moment, you are anticipating a pay bump from the #19,800 allawee, the next thing, you’re fighting for dear life. I was so eager to see the end of NYSC that the thought that I might not find a job was pretty much non-existent. Like how hard can it be to find one? I came back home, excited for what I thought was coming. I sent out scores of applications. Not one got back to me.

The one or two that reached out turned out to be networking/GNLD gigs. Three months at home with no stream of income fed my frustration, and it started to consume me, then the depression came with it. I didn’t clock how dire my situation was until my dad started giving me #1000 every day. He meant well, but the more I accepted the money, the more I became disillusioned with my existence. This went on for six months until the first job came. Nobody should have to deal with such a strong feeling of helplessness. 

Kingsley, 23

I always kind of felt like I would have it rough after NYSC.  But then I got a lifeline about two months to the end of NYSC. A company I applied to got back to me and invited me to write their aptitude test. I served in the North, so I jumped on a bus and travelled to Lagos – I missed an end of month clearance because of this. They invited me for the interview, then the congratulatory email came two weeks later. Radio silence followed. They’d promised to let me know how to get my appointment letter and when to start work. They never did. When I followed up, they ‘regretfully’ told me that they would not be going with me, after all. No explanation. No apology.

This hit me profusely. I was beginning to think that I had my stuff on lock, so it was a big setback. Of course, the depression I thought I’d dealt with came rushing back in. I’m not sure how I survived it. Sure, I have a job now, but I still think of the road not travelled. And somehow, I feel like it was my fault. 

Ola, 25

Post-NYSC depression is as real as it gets. I lived through it for four months after NYSC. It’s hard to see your guys making moves and you’re there seeming not to make any progress at all. For me, the depression started to filter in when I moved back with my parents. That was a tough pill to swallow. It felt like I’d failed at this adulting thing before I even started. I had no choice, though, I went back to them and faced the scorn and mockery that came with it.

It was a dark time. I was so vulnerable, and it didn’t seem like I was going to climb out of the hole. I took a teaching job because it was that or nothing, but it saved my life. Getting out of the house every day did a lot to take my mind off the state of things. I don’t know if the depression is still there, but I’ve decided to keep it moving.

Bolanle, 22

I was there when my sister went through her post-NYSC depression phase, and I knew what it did to her. I was not going to be another number. The safest option was to go back to school, so I could buy myself more time. My masters’ application came through, but the session didn’t start until three months after NYSC ended. Luckily,  I got an unpaid internship. I took it because the point was to get busy. It was hard to watch my sister when she was stuck in that vicious cycle, and it’s hard to watch some of my friends who struggle with it now. Last-last, everyone will be alright, but I tell people to get busy, somehow. That’s the quickest fix.

You’ll also like this: All The Things That Happen Between The End Of NYSC And Your First Job

What does it mean to study at a university in Nigeria? There is no comprehensive answer, so to say. However, we can all agree that the university is a world of its own, one where your existence hardly matters to anyone but yourself – and if my 4 years of studying in one taught me anything, it’s how the university will try to bring you down, but you have to fight, and more importantly, survive. 

It’s a struggle (as everything in Nigeria is) and you need every help you can get to make sure you live your best life and get out with your sanity intact, hence this article. Chances are that you’ve seen these in other variations. In that case, they can serve as a reminder of what you’ve got to do.

Accept that everything won’t work out the way you want

If I’ve realised anything from writing Aluta and Chill, it’s that the university has a powerful hold on students and try to drag them down as much as it can. Yes, the university will deploy many means to bury you and leave you for dead, but if you take a moment to anticipate its moves, you can protect yourself. A basic, yet important thing to do is to embrace the fact that you might record a couple of Ls along the way, but you won’t let them be the reasons that you snap.

Prove indispensable to your lecturers

Dealing with Nigerian lecturers is a stressful affair because you don’t know who is sane and who is not. But if you find ways to make yourself indispensable to them, for example, become a class representative; you will be putting yourself in a prime position to have it easier than others would. Don’t forget that this is Nigeria; the people you know matter.

Get yourself a squad 

In a scene from the first season of Game of Thrones,  Ned Stark, a couple of episodes away from his execution, told his daughter Arya, that “the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives” You might find this useful during your time at university too. Everything becomes a tad easier when you have people to share it with. Find people with similar interests as you and stick together. Chances are that you will get into trouble sometimes, but at least, you will figure out how to finesse your way out of it together.

Build a network

Again, your university experience is a sum of the people you meet and the relationships you build with them – and a great way to do this is to be a part of groups and activities that are not entirely related to schoolwork like campus press clubs, politics, the literary and debating society etc. For starters, these things help you to nurture and hone your skills. Also, think of the pool of people and resources you will have access to.

Just have fun

Let’s be real; no matter how many ‘hacks’ you read about how to live stress-free in the university,  there will still be roadblocks on the path to living your best life. The best you can do for yourself is to hold on tightly to the positives and make as many fun memories as you can. As a kid who would later become king once said “Ha, I laugh in the face of danger”

So yeah, the university will try to end your life, but it won’t. Laugh at its futile efforts and continue to slay.

One more thing

Are you currently studying in Nigeria or elsewhere and have a story to share about your life in school? Please take a minute to fill this form and we will reach out to you ASAP.

Students in Nigerian universities have stories to tell, but hardly anyone to tell them to. For our weekly series, Aluta and Chill, we are putting the spotlight on these students and their various campus experiences.

Adetona Maryam is a 500 level student of Medicine and Surgery. She talks about her lingering interest in the literary arts and how she’s at the forefront of building the Ilorin literary scene.

Tell me how you got into school

I got into University of Ilorin in 2014, but it wasn’t the first time I’d tried to get into the university. In 2013, I wrote UTME and applied to study Medicine and Surgery at University of Ibadan, but I didn’t get it. They offered me Chemistry, which I accepted, but eventually deferred. Instead, I enrolled in an A-Levels school. As a contingency plan, I wrote UTME again the following year. I applied to University of Ilorin this time, went for Medicine again, and I got it this time. That was it.

It seems like your heart was pretty set on studying medicine and surgery, what was the appeal?

I don’t know, but medicine wasn’t the first career choice I made. At some point, I wanted to be a lawyer, then a civil engineer. It was during the end of my secondary school days that medicine got in the mix. It was the first time I got fascinated by the biology of the human body, and medicine was one of the ways I could explore how the human body works and also make a living out of it.

Interesting. How quickly did you settle in school?

It didn’t happen instantly. I don’t make friends easily. I was so lonely in my first year. I was used to the friends I’d made during my A-Levels, and none of them were in Unilorin. Also, I didn’t get hostel accommodation, so I lived off-campus – alone in a room with a stash of Korean movies to keep me company.

Korean movies?

Yes! They were the only thing I watched at that point. I even tried to cook ramen noodles. I would dump noodles into my electric kettle, add water and the spices. I ate from the kettle as I watched the movies. I can’t believe myself when I think about it now, but yes, that happened.

Lmao. So, when did you start to settle in?

I’m not sure. It just kind of happened. My grades were pretty good even when I hadn’t gotten the hang of things. I think that was because most of what I was doing in 100 level was what I’d already done during my A-Level days, so they were easy to break down and understand. Anyway, I finished 100 level and moved from the main campus to medical school.

Was it a big change for you?

In a way, yes. Not to sound like a broken record, but med school is hard, especially when you realise that the amount of work you put in is not proportional to your result. I learned this after my first exams in med school. I passed, but it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be.  Subsequently, all my time was invested in making sure that I made and maintained a good grade. But sometime in 300 level, I thought it was time to do something else that appealed to me – the literary arts.

Oh! What sparked your interest in the arts?

I’ve always been a reader and lover of the arts. Growing up, I found solace in reading and I never lost the drive to immerse myself in everything arts. So, when I eventually settled into school, it was time to take it up again.

It started with a writing group I joined when I was in 300 level where everyone workshopped each other’s work. At the time, I didn’t even think that there could be more. Not until I went to an open mic in Lagos. Sometime after that, I  attended Dami Ajayi’s masterclass on poetry and his book reading. I realised that everywhere was popping with literary communities and events, but there was hardly anything in Ilorin. That had to change.

Why did you feel that way?

I needed a space where everyone could come to and express themselves. I mean, I could always go to Ibadan or Lagos to do that, but it had to happen in Ilorin too.

Fair enough. How did it go from there?

Actually, I had spoken to a couple of friends about having this kind of community in Ilorin before I went for these events, but med school became overwhelming, so I ditched the idea. And it seemed like that was going to be the end of it until I attended Dami Ajayi’s book reading. Now, Dami is a medical doctor and an author, and that kind of changed my perspective about how I saw the two things. I realised that I could have both. Luckily, I met someone at the book reading who felt the same way too, so that confirmed that people wanted this thing. I came back to Ilorin determined to make it happen.

 What was the plan?

The original plan was to organise a monthly open mic session, but I felt that this needed to be built around a concrete structure to draw more people in. I hit some of the people I’d talked to up, we set up a couple of meetings where we laid down the structure. That was the first step.

What structure did you decide on?

We agreed to create a book club where we would meet monthly to discuss books and share whatever we were working on with others. We also decided to make it open for anyone to attend our literary evenings. We launched ‘The Shade Book Club’ in September 2019.

Sweet. What was the response like when you kicked off the book club?

It was okay. Quite a number of people wanted to be a part of the club. At the moment, we have about 20 members. I had to bring the registration link down because I wanted it to be as intimate as possible and I also wanted every member to be active. 

The club is about four months old now, has there been any highlight?

Oh, yes! We had our first open mic session in December. We sent the invite out, asking anyone who wanted to perform their work to come out. The response was crazy and people actually turned up. I didn’t see that coming. The venue was filled to capacity. The quality of performances was also great. I was just buzzing by the sheer success of it. And the best part of it was that people reached out to us asking if another one could be organised. It really felt (and still feels) like we are onto something.

It’s interesting that it’s taking shape and you have a highlight already, but what’s the most challenging thing about running the club?

That has to be the struggle of balancing it with my studies. It’s lowkey a full-time job and academics is a full-time job in itself. I’m still trying to figure out the best way to do both, but I believe I’m not doing badly.

Basically, I use a to-do list to plan my day. That’s it. I try to finish the book club tasks as soon as I can. Then it’s back to my academics.

Since the time you became active in the Ilorin literary scene, have you noticed any change?

I think the Ilorin literary scene has improved. People have come to meet us to ask about the possibility of the book club organising book readings for them. The scene is growing and people are here for it. A lot of similar communities are now springing up in the town and bringing their best game on, and I couldn’t be happier about it. It’s overwhelming how much success we’ve recorded in such a short time, really, and I feel like we can only make it better.

Sweet. How has running a book club changed you in a way that med school couldn’t have? 

For starters, I’ve met a lot of good and smart people. In fact, I met my boyfriend at a book reading. My people’s management and leadership skills have improved. This community is the greatest gift I’ve gotten from this school. The goal now is to have a Kwara Arts and Book festival — there’s no concrete plan for it yet, but I really want it. 

What are you looking forward to now?

That’s a tough one. I mean, I’m eventually going to leave this school, but I want to make sure that this club and everything that goes with it doesn’t end with me. I want this club to be a point of reference for literary arts in Ilorin. And I think it’s on its way there.

Are you currently studying in Nigeria or elsewhere and have a story to share about your life in school? Please take a minute to fill this form and we will reach out to you ASAP.

Can’t get enough Aluta and Chill? Check back every Thursday at noon for a new episode. Find other stories in the series here.