Our right to reject deprivation (1)

Aliyu Musa

Several years ago in one of the most celebrated court tussles between student activists and university authorities, Justice Andrew Obaseki (retired) observed that: “A university student is a priceless asset and he is on the threshold of a world of useful service to the nation, we cannot afford to destroy him by stigmatizing him with the guilt of offences unless proved guilty before a court.”

As significant as the statement was in Justice Obaseki’s Supreme Court ruling in the case between Garba and University of Maiduguri its full import only came to me many years later, when via a reckless university authority’s decision I was one of 54 students expelled. I was in my final year like many others and our crime was we exercised our right to reject unfair, sub-human conditions on a university campus. And for the next six years we fought to upturn the expulsion through several courts victories that the university chose, in persistent show of anarchism, to ignore; regardless of the damage such action inflicted on our future and country’s.

This week marks another dark eon in our history. It is another time when we show how little we care about life and the future of our country. It tells of how disrespectful we are to humanity and civility. In civilized societies people have the right to register their discontent by means of protests. The police and other agents of violence in the hand of the state owe it a duty to protect them and ensure they peacefully do it.

I have only been to Nasarawa State University once when Professor Adamu Baikie was its vice chancellor. I therefore can only vaguely appraise the condition of infrastructures in the institution. But like most institutions of learning that governments own or fund in Nigeria I am more than certain facilities in the university are in a miserable state. It is the general trend in the country and Nasarawa State University cannot be exempt.

It is also the state of education in the country, where those in public and political positions do not care a hoot whether public institutions are funded or not, or the less privileged are able to access education or not, as long as their own children get the best wherever it is available on earth.

The amount of money ferried out of the country to fund private studies abroad is staggering. In Ghana, Malaysia, India, Britain and the US etc. we are distinguished clients not necessarily because we are accorded any special privileges but due to the huge number of our compatriots studying in institutions in these countries.

A friend recently told me of how immigration officers in one of these countries became very alarmed at the number of young people arriving for studies. They were concerned that a disguised form of human trafficking was in progress. But swift investigations only pointed to highly placed Nigerians desperately trying to keep their own children from a system whose rot they have helped.

There is nothing wrong with studying abroad but what is really incorrect is when many of those sending their children are among the people that have worked hard to collapse the system in their country. I don’t understand what sense it makes to destroy your own home and seek refuge in a neighbor's.

Education is the light to the future, no doubting that, and our children are that future. Their full potential can only be realized if they acquire quality education. And quality education comprises quality teaching, quality facilities and conducive ambience. But how is that realizable when funding is diverted to worthless jamborees?

If there was no prolonged unavailability of water and normal classes were running Nasarawa State University students would not be in the streets protesting. When people are not happy with their situation they are bound to complain or even reject it, if possible by means of force or violence. The sort of violence the state unleashes on the ordinary Nigerian is such that any manner of reaction is not impossible. And the one we saw this week in Keffi is typical.

Postscript:

Last week I had my table full with the arrival of my daughter Hafsa (or Hana as her brother calls her) and so many other things. The system here allows a certain period of time off work as paternity leave. But to enjoy such privilege you must have worked for your employer for at least 26 weeks. I have only worked for my new employer for less than 20 weeks. So I missed out on paternity leave. But my colleagues, friends and family have been very helpful. To all those who came or offered to help out, called, sent messages or silently prayed for us we say a very big thank you.