Many who are 50 years and above (and a few in their 40s) who attended secondary schools in Nigeria as boarding students might be familiar with that phrase: ose igberaga (the week of arrogance).
For those who might not be familiar with this phrase, it simply speaks to our first week at school after a long vacation. It is the week when most students would have returned with food items and money meant to last them for most of the term, to supplement the food provided by the school. We would return to school with our portmanteaus filled with items such as biscuits (cabin and later, Okin), margarine, canned fish in sauce (Geisha was the main brand then), sardines, bread, garri, kulikuli, sugar, powdered milk (Nido was popular then), chocolate beverage (Pronto comes to mind), Ovaltine, Bournvita, tin milk, and others, collectively referred to as “provisions.”
Our boarding fee then was N30 (those that came before us paid less) and in exchange, we had three good meals. When I say good, I mean good meals. The dining department was well-staffed with cooks who really knew how to cook well and who did not fail to cook enough food for the hundreds of us living on campus.
I always looked forward to all the meals, especially breakfast and dinner. For breakfast, we would be served yam or bread with fish sauce. We had unlimited access to tea. The big aluminum bowls with lids were used to serve us dinners. Our portions were generous, and you could ask for extras if needed. Some of my mates were known to ask for extras. There would always be fried fish heads as extras, which, as a sign of fairness, would often be given out to junior students as extras. Of course, the sharing also got rotated among various classes sometimes too. We were well-organized into different dining tables, with each table comprising students from different class sets to allow for interactions and mentorship. Overall, the food prefects oversaw the dining room, and if they were your friends, you would often have some privileges like being allowed to take your food to the hostel, which was normally a no-no.
The school’s classrooms were top-notch equipped with functional desks and chairs in good conditions, and the landscape, complete with beautiful, well-trimmed flowers and tendered lawns, was beautiful to behold. The different science laboratories were well-equipped with everything we needed to make the study of Biology, Chemistry, and Physics easy. Our typewriting pool was stocked with several typewriters in good conditions for the use of the commercial students. Sports did not take a back seat as we had a lawn tennis court, football field, and other sports equipment. The school had a school bus in excellent condition with a driver. The bus was used for different school activities including excursions, sporting and academic activities.
Insecurity was not an issue. The school had local security guards, hostel teachers who lived by each hostel, and many teachers, including the principal, who lived within the school premises. We had a school poultry that was well stocked with chickens.
At the time, we did not lack teachers and support staff. Teachers were both local and foreign. There were Ghanaians, Indians, and Beninese. The students came from different parts of Nigeria and of different religious backgrounds. We all existed in harmony without issues. For many of us at the time, it was a mini paradise.
Back to the week of arrogance. The week would bring the best and the worst out of people. It was a week when characters were formed and exhibited. There were cunning students who would take advantage of the naivety of the children of the rich by befriending them to gain access to their food and wallets. There were those who would use force and bullying, especially some seniors, to take items that belonged to others. There were those who, out of their weakness, genuine giving spirit, care for others, or to gain favor or relationships, would give out part or all of their items to others. There were those who would steal the money and items others had brought. Yet, there were those who, out of principle, would stay true to their lack and stay contented. Those who misbehaved, when caught, were punished. So, there was consequence for bad manners and illegal actions.
Even though officially, students were not allowed to bring such items to the hostels, there was an unspoken secrecy among the students to not tell on each other. Some senior students would use that to blackmail vulnerable students to share their items with them. Different characters were formed at that time.
So, the week of arrogance was generally the week most students shunned dining hall foods, ate biscuits with butter, drank Bournvita or Ovaltine beverages, gave money to girlfriends and boyfriends, and generally “showed off.” It was also the week when a few would show the character of restraint and good management of their items. While the majority would have run out of food and money after the first week due to poor management, a few who managed theirs well would still be okay. Again, characters were formed at that young age.
Despite some misbehavior by a few students during the week of arrogance, the majority looked forward to it as an opportunity to share, love, and support one another. Students from wealthy homes often brought extra provisions for their friends from less privileged backgrounds. It was a time of genuine care and support, fostering positive relationships and teaching many how to manage their resources wisely.
We also learnt about adaptation at that young age. When we got broke and the week of arrogance was over, we would innovate by turning the beans that we did not really like as dinner, into a “reborn” by adding garri and sugar. We would make “eba” by mixing garri and cold water and subject the mixture to a beating with our fist to make it stick together a bit. We called it “feselu” meaning, “beat with your fist”. We embraced team efforts as different students would bring garri, beans, sugar etc to make a meal. Then we eat together in love except in the rare occasion when a particular student might get too greedy without taking the interest of others into consideration. Collectively, we would put such an individual in order. Sadly, the students of together don’t have the opportunity to build cohesiveness or speak against misbehaviors in our community with one voice.
Sadly, that beautiful memory of my old secondary school has been marred by the current reality of the school. The hostels are gone. The buildings are dilapidated. The classrooms have no windows. The teachers’ quarters are no more. The typewriting pool is gone. The school is not secure. The landscapes are history. The adequate teachers and support staff have been replaced with a shortage of teachers and lack of support staff. The discipline of students is gone. Almost everything that made the school our mini paradise is gone, gone, gone!.
During my recent visit to the school, I cried. What could be done? Nothing could be done without the approval of the government, I was told. And such approval would go through a bureaucratic process that could take forever. Yet, the government was doing nothing to attend to the needs of the school. How about the town’s prominent indigenes coming together with the King and the alumni? That is not happening either. It is like a camel passing through the eye of a needle. There is a lack of common goal. There is a lack of genuine interest and communal coordination by the primary stakeholders. Soon, the few that genuinely want to help grow weary and move on.
I thought I was alone until I heard the stories of my friends who went to schools in Abakaliki, Maiduguri, Akure, Minna, Lagos, Kaduna, Offa, Ilorin, Ijare, Ado Ekiti, Benin City, Makurdi, Jebba, Ibadan, Onitsha, Port Harcourt, Abeokuta, Uyo, Enugu, Owerri, Warri, and everywhere in Nigeria. We share the same stories, frustration, and resignation. Our recollection of the week of arrogance lived within our various academic paradises has given way to the reality of paradise lost. Perhaps, with our collective efforts, the paradise can still be regained. Perhaps!
Importance of Maintaining Public School Infrastructure
Maintaining the infrastructure of public schools is essential for fostering a conducive learning environment. The government, community, and alumni each play crucial roles in this endeavor.
Government’s Role: The government is primarily responsible for providing adequate funding, policy support, and oversight to ensure schools are well-maintained. This includes regular maintenance of buildings, provision of learning materials, and ensuring the security of school premises. Adequate teacher recruitment and training are also crucial.
Community’s Role: The community, including the King, Chiefs, prominent and ordinary indigenes, parents and local businesses, can support schools through volunteer efforts, donations, and advocacy for better school conditions. Local involvement fosters a sense of ownership and accountability, encouraging better maintenance and care for school facilities.
Alumni’s Role: Alumni can play a significant role by organizing fundraising efforts, providing mentorship, and contributing resources to their alma mater. Successful alumni can leverage their networks and influence, to garner support for improving school infrastructure.
Impact of a Good Learning Environment
A good learning environment, equipped with necessary infrastructure and materials, profoundly impacts students, the community, and the country.
For Students: A well-maintained school provides a safe and stimulating environment conducive to learning. Students are more likely to attend regularly, stay engaged, and perform better academically. Access to modern facilities and resources enhances their learning experience, preparing them for future opportunities.
For the Community: A good school enhances the community’s social fabric. It becomes a center for community activities and pride, fostering a sense of unity and shared responsibility. Educated individuals contribute positively to their communities, promoting social cohesion and development.
For the Country: Investing in education translates to improved human capital, which is crucial for economic development. A well-educated workforce drives innovation, productivity, and competitiveness. Additionally, educated individuals are more likely to be politically aware, engaged, and participatory, contributing to a more informed and active citizenry. Long-term, this leads to sustainable economic growth, improved living standards, and a robust democratic process.
Conclusion
The decline of once-great schools is a tragedy shared across many towns in Nigeria, from Kaura-Namoda to Lokoja. However, with concerted efforts from the government, community, and alumni, these institutions can be revitalized. By restoring our schools, we not only honor our past but also secure our future, ensuring that the week of arrogance remains a cherished memory and not a relic of a bygone era. Together, we can transform our schools into the academic paradises they once were, fostering generations of Nigerians equipped to build a brighter future.
NB: Johnson Babalola, a Canada based lawyer, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst.
