By: Ogunleye Kolapo Olayemi
It is that time of the semester again. The air on campus has changed. As we can all see, greetings are flying everywhere like a plate of jollof rice at an owambe.
That your coursemate who has walked past you for four semesters without even a simple nod as a courtesy? He now calls you “my leader” and asks about your family, your children, and even grandchildren. The guy who never remembered your name is now your best friend, shaking your hand with both hands like a governor at a market rally. Ah, somebody even almost dọbalẹ (prostrated) for me at the front of my hall cafeteria last week. I wanted the ground to swallow me because of the shame on his behalf.
Welcome to election season at the University of Ibadan. A season where amnesia is cured overnight and courtesy becomes the grand campaign strategy.
It is fascinating, really. For three or even four years, some of these aspirants did not know you existed. Even if you greet some of them, to answer, na war. Now they greet you like you just won a lottery. For three years, they never asked how lectures were going. Now they stop you mid-walk to “check on you.” I mean, don’t you find this attitude embarrassing?
The supposed leaders of tomorrow, who are meant to change the trajectory of the country for good, are taking a leaf from the book of the mainstream politicians. Perhaps we’re never leaving the trenches?
It is the exact script Nigerian politicians have used for decades. Before elections, they commission boreholes, share cups of rice, and remember every market woman’s name. After elections, they disappear into thin air. Our campus politicians have simply inherited the family business.
We as a student community should shame this deceptive behaviour more. Let us be honest with ourselves. If we reward this kind of theatre with our votes, we are training our future leaders to keep doing it, both here and later in bigger political spaces they will eventually enter. Today it is “my leader.” Tomorrow it is going to be 5 cups of rice, 5k at a polling unit.
As a student community, we owe it to ourselves not to condone this. Not to smile along and pretend the sudden closeness is normal. We should be asking harder questions. Where was this respect during the last three years we’ve been bumping at each other at the faculty, but never a “hello?” We’ve been in this hall for 3 years, and you never once said “Hi,” so why the sudden familiarity? Where was this friendliness when I needed help understanding a particular topic and you looked through me like glass?
This is a call to the University of Ibadan students’ community, and a simple test every voter on this campus should apply. If a person has existed beside you for years without warmth, without courtesy, without any form of engagement, and then suddenly transforms into the most jovial, greeting, hand-shaking human being during the campaign period, that transformation should not be a reason to vote for them. It is a good reason not to.
It’s pretty understandable that not everyone can be jovial or laugh with everyone. I myself fall into this category. It only becomes deceptive when you wear a new attitude just to cajole people to vote for you. We should never accept this behaviour. It’s condescending and a simple way to call us fools.
The person who deserves your vote is the one whose respect for people was consistent long before there was anything to gain from it. The one whose track record speaks, not their sudden charm offensive.
It is completely fine to campaign. It is fine to introduce yourself to people you have not met. What is not fine is performing a personality you have never worn a single day before now, all because you want something from us.
Your work should speak for you. Your ideas for the department, or for the hall, your record of service, the things you have actually done, these are what deserve to be on the campaign trail. Not your sudden gift of greeting. Not your new prostrating knees. Not the “my leader” you now sprinkle on everyone within earshot.
We see it. We know what it is. And this semester, as a student community, we should not condone it. We should shame it, and then vote accordingly.
T for thanks.
