Opinion
Revisiting Animosities In Universities
That a criminal charge of sexual harassment against a Professor of Microbiology, ended in an acquittal, should not be a surprise to anyone. Section 353 of the Criminal Code Act would classify sexual harassment of a female student as indecent assault, while Section 367 deals with rape, defined as forcing a female of any age into the sex act without her consent, or inducing such consent by threat. In 1963, a female witness for a defendant told late magistrate Herbert Nwazota, that an unwilling woman would hardly be raped, because “her shouts and aggression would be such that the rapist cannot continue”. Similarly, such case of rape or harassment would be reported immediately, which is a vital point in the evidence concerning such matter. But when complaint about such assault comes a long time after, there is the possibility of an after-thought, or someone instigating the report, with a possible malicious intention to get even with someone. An alleged act done in a secret place, with no third party as an independent witness, would hardly hold water in a court.
Considering the level of animosities prevalent in Nigerian universities, it is possible that the Microbiology Professor acquitted by a court recently, may be a victim of a toxic academic environment. When a professor’s monthly salary was about N10,000, the academic environment was not what it became with current salary structure. Rot in the university system came in tandem with the gross devaluation of the Naira. Many lecturers moved out of the country as job satisfaction, productivity and integrity became rare values in Nigeria. As PhD became an acronym for “pull him down” syndrome, Nigerian universities became a toxic environment. In world-class universities, highly experienced and dedicated lecturers could become professors even with first degree certificates, but in Nigeria no one becomes a professor without a PhD degree. The result of this policy was that becoming a professor was characterised by fraud, chicanery, duplicity and malpractices, especially since one would retire with professorial salary as pension. It is quite human that nobody would want to slave himself to death for a system which does not reward diligence, hard work and dedication to duty. In the words of late Captain Elechi Amadi, Nigeria does not place value on naked honesty, hard work and personal sacrifices. But flattery pays!
Animosities in Nigerian universities started building up between 1974 and 1995, when strikes, “sorting” and other malpractices became more common. Military politics had a share in much of the rot in universities, as some female students with strong relationships with military officers could elevate or destroy lecturers. Through connections or calumnies, the process of elevation or destruction could make or mar any lecturer. The result of this trend was the use of female students to make connections and get contracts and appointments. Some lecturers became millionaires! The process of acquisition of university certificates is like anything else in Nigeria, characterised by malpractices and the ability to get away with serious pranks, so long as one has some connections in appropriate quarters. There were also situations where highly-placed moneybags and men of timbre and calibre would register in universities, attend lectures at their own convenience and let money and good relationship provide certificates that they have no need for, except for adornment purposes. Thus ego, meanness, envy and pettiness flourished among lecturers.
Sadly, the relationships between rich and high calibre students and lecturers resulted in using students to rubbish the reputation of some lecturers, especially those considered to be “too strict and rigid”. Also, between 1974 and 1985, cult phenomenon became more prevalent in universities as well as increasing cases of examination malpractices. Decree No. 20 of 1984 had to be promulgated to deal with examination offences in universities. Similarly, Decree No. 47 of 1989, was made to address campus cultism, as different from offences against public order and unlawful assembly. Statistics of campus cultism indicated that a large number of those who faced student disciplinary committee were children of highly-placed parents in society, especially children who grew up in barracks. Similarly, female students who reported high cases of sexual harassment against lecturers, were those who were most irregular in class attendance. Thus, cases of “sorting”, sexual harassment and other allegations about malpractices, were linked with poor examination performances and irregularity in class.
Cases of plagiarism and book piracy were also found to be linked with scramble to become professors, of which soured relationships between some students and lecturers, were traced to malpractices in publications. There were particular cases where female students who had little respect for lecturers they knew to be fraudulent coined such appellations like “Professors of Otularingology” spelling of medical specialists in ear-nose-and-throat discipline was deliberately altered for the purpose of this sly prank. There were also other derogatory names for various category of lecturers. Hypocrisy flourished! What is really disturbing about animosities in the universities, is the role of some Vice Chancellors in some campuses. There are some vice chancellors who adopt divisive strategies as ready tools of administering the campus environment. Either they surround themselves with boot-lickers and tale-bearers, some factions of student-cultists, or members of their religion or ethnicity. Thus, formation of cliques in universities is one major cause of division and animosities in the universities. This also goes along with listening to gossips, especially coming from female students against some lecturers who are not in the good book of vice chancellors.
Thus, the culture of collegiality gives way to paternalism and possible witch-hunt of perceived suspected rivals of vice chancellors or ill-disposed staff. The level of fascism in some Nigerian universities is unbelievable but real, and sometimes religion is used for divisive and surveillance purposes. In situations of divisiveness, prejudice and animosities, promotions can be selective and unfair, in spite of the fact that assessments for staff promotion is handled by a committee. There are also many interest groups whose purposes range from playing some advocacy roles, to serving as lobbyists and informants. There are lecturers who are more of politicians and would hardly be there to teach and supervise their students, but would spend lots of times with power-holders. Also, there has been some strained relationship between academic and non-academic staff in the university system, arising from many factors. While this is no attempt to condemn one’s constituency, the vital issue is that there is professional envy and animosities in universities. Sexual harassment is a ready tool to get even with rivals.
Dr Amirize is a retired lecturer from the Rivers State University, Port Harcourt.
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
