Skip to main content

It Will Be A Thursday

The strike has entered its fifth month. Lord have mercy on us, I don’t even know what to think anymore. There seems to be nothing new, save for the old stalemate. The Federal Government has been begging and the lecturers have been adamant. The students (most of them) have been idle, serving as laboratories for the devil.

Just in case you have no idea about what you are reading, you are not Nigerian hence I’ll briefly summarize what has been happening. On the 1st of July, the university lecturers (college professors as they are called elsewhere) went on an indefinite strike saying that this agreement they entered with the Federal Government in 2009 after a strike was not honored (I got into University in the year 2010 instead of 2009 due to that particular strike).

I had been wondering what students could do to end this strike or accelerate its end. Maybe students affected could go on a protest, shut down the nation and grind everything to a halt and force everyone involved to find a solution (if you want to know how this will be done check here). Another thing that could be done is spamming the reps and senators with petitions calling on them to save the situation. This spamming thing could be via email, text, calls or even by post. When they are pestered they will maybe make moves to salvage the situation or change phone numbers. The last option I will suggest should be carried out when/if the strike reaches its eight month. This involves taking on government websites if you get my drift.

A lot of people have taken sides as to who is right or wrong between the Federal Government and the Academic Staff Union of Universities, the two parties whose actions have kept Nigerian Students out of public universities. I have not taken sides really (okay, to be honest I am leaning to the FG  side, but am sure its naturally because of how mean most lecturers behave towards students). That I think I support the government does not mean it is because I am having a rosy undergrad life; it’s due to built-up animosity toward them lecturers. To think that I plan to be a lecturer in future makes me try to see things from the ASUU point of view. Still, it is my belief that being the brains of the nation the lecturers ought to have devised a less destructive means of arm twisting the government. All I want is the strike called off.

Looking at the bright side of things, this strike will delay my graduation from the university by a few months and this is something I had been secretly wishing for. The reason is simple, under normal circumstances I’ll graduate in 2014 and carry out my national service in 2014/2015 but 2015 being an election year doesn’t appeal much too me. With the heat all turned up I don’t fancy myself bedecked in some dull grey khaki garments in a hostile locality counting votes or being forced to register under aged voters or being almost beaten up when the wrong candidate wins, ermmm this is way out of line, am exaggerating but you get my point right? With this strike, I hope to serve my fatherland when the election dust (if any is raised) has long settled. Thankfully from indications, the elections will be held at the beginning of the year 2015.

The paragraph above is full of shallow thinking, but then all angles have to be covered.

I have a feeling I can bet on; the strike will be called off on a Thursday.


END ASUU STRIKE NOW!!!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Tale of Roasted Maize and Sour Olives

The tale recounted is based on true events Some weeks back, on Nigeria’s Independence Day to be precise, I planned to spend the whole day indoors. That I did, I spent the day watching movies and lazying in bed. It turned out to be a quiet day all through, nothing spectacular until I received a call. An Uncle* of mine who lived in the same compound with us called me on phone and said I should meet him on his side of the house. It was about 4 pm so I trudged to his apartment, expecting to be sent on an errand. When I got there, he simply gave me a cob of roasted Maize and some Olives and that was that. It was very funny, almost awkward. I carried this funny look on my face that made his wife laugh at the situation. He just encouraged me to give it a try. I took huge bite off the cob, shaving off a large swathe of roasted Maize seeds from the cob, and then went for the Olives which turned out to be sour. Dang! The sensation is beyond description, especially when the Olive...
2 comments
Read more

The First Million

It is not in doubt that the second million is easier to make than the first. In fact, many people say the first million is the hardest to make. Back then when I was passing through the unemployment phase, a mentor of mine, advised me to start small saying “ It is easier to get a job when you are engaged with a job ”. Even Corporate Mach said something similar when he wrote that “ It is easier to get a laptop when you already have a laptop ” and he wasn't talking about laptops. I am not going to talk about Tech or money. Just wanted to put it out there that I agree fully. Ever since I presented my manifesto to my beloved, to which she accepted, the greenlight I have received from young ladies has been overwhelming. A certain acquaintance of mine who took upon herself Jezebelian inclinations even went further graphically describe her desires of me. It was quite wild and I get a running stomach anytime I think about it. But that’s not the point. The point is once you break even, t...
Post a Comment
Read more

Who did it?

Madam Shola had always been a very friendly woman ever since I knew her - which was like all my life. One of my funniest memories of her was when her humour made its finest appearance. It was a surprisingly rainy Sunday morning some Decembers ago, and we had just closed from church. My wife and I were dashing to the car hand in hand as it drizzled. "Mr and Mrs Lovebird", madam Shola called. I recognized her voice and stopped to say hello to her. "Good morning ma" "Sam, look at you! You're glowing" she exclaimed, turning to my wife she added "Mercy, you're doing a great job, I give you an A". She said using her right forefinger to make a swoosh in the air. We all laughed. First of all, my name is not Sam neither is it Samuel. Madam Shola had never called me by my name. Never. I'd gotten tired of correcting her and never bothered anymore. Sighting mercy's protruding belly she opened her mouth in mock surprise. "I see wh...
Post a Comment
Read more