Walking into a lecture hall in a Nigerian university is like stepping into an unknown zone where you’re not quite sure if you’re there to learn or just to survive.
It’s one of those things no one really talks about, the feeling that your lecturer is more of an obstacle than a guide.
You’re there, ready to soak up knowledge, but instead, you’re left battling the clock, the pressure, and the unpredictable moods of someone who holds your future in their hands.
If you’ve been a Nigerian student, this probably sounds all too familiar.
That looming dread whenever you step into certain lecture halls, knowing that the lecturer at the front has the power to make or break your entire semester based on nothing more than their mood.
Nigerian universities aren’t exactly known for being student-friendly and that’s putting it lightly.
But beyond the usual chaos, there’s an underlying issue that nobody talks about enough, which is the power lecturers have to push students into corners, sometimes without reason, and often with no consequences.
The worst part is that some lecturers aren’t afraid to abuse that power.
They can make the classroom feel more like a warfront, where your worth is measured by whether or not you fit their personal preferences.
And what happens when a student speaks up?
The threats.
The subtle jabs.
The fear of retaliation.
It’s a vicious cycle that goes on and on, leaving students questioning their place in the classroom.
The Ugly Truth Is:
It doesn’t have to be this way.
The very people who are supposed to uplift us, who are supposed to help us become better thinkers, better problem solvers, better human beings, are sometimes the very ones holding us back.
When the very people who should be guiding you through your education use their position to make you feel small, something is seriously wrong with the system.
What happens to the student who is constantly undermined?
The one who works their ass off, but still gets a grade that feels more like a punishment?
Or the one who is ignored because they don’t conform to a certain stereotype of what a “good student” looks like?
They leave that lecture hall not just defeated academically, but mentally and emotionally drained.
So, what can we do about it?
It’s easy to say, “Report them.” But let’s be honest here: How many students actually have the nerve to challenge a lecturer who can decide your fate in the blink of an eye?
How many of us are ready to risk it all, our grades, our reputation, even our mental health, just to call out unfair treatment?
That’s the sad reality.
The power imbalance is so steep that students often feel helpless, afraid to speak out because they know the repercussions won’t just affect them in the moment they could affect their entire academic career.
But we can’t keep letting this slide.
We need to start demanding respect.
Not just for the grades we get, but for the way we’re treated.
It’s time for students to stand up, against unfair practices that make the academic experience feel like an emotional rollercoaster.
There’s a difference between being “tough” and being unfair. The kind of “toughness” that pushes students to be better, to think critically, to challenge ideas, that’s what education should be about. But tough doesn’t have to mean cruel. Tough doesn’t have to mean making us feel small or worthless.
Students deserve to be treated with respect.
We deserve a space where we are valued for our thoughts, our contributions, and yes, even our mistakes. Because, let’s face it, mistakes are part of the process. We’re here to learn, not to be terrorized.
It’s time to stop letting fear dictate how we navigate our academic journeys. We need a system where lecturers are held accountable for the way they treat the people they’re supposed to be mentoring.
Education is supposed to open doors, not slam them shut in your face.
It’s time to reclaim the respect we deserve, to demand a campus where every student feels like they belong.