The gates of the University of Ibadan (UI), Nigeria’s premier university, stood calm and nearly silent during our recent visit. With the semester break still in effect and students expected to resume academic activities on April 22, the once-bustling campus wore a peaceful look. However, behind the quiet, we found stories—real, raw, and riveting—from students who remained on campus or came visiting.
As our team roamed the university’s expansive grounds, we met Samuel, a wide-eyed 100-level Physics student who lives off-campus. With an easy smile, he shared a glimpse into his weekend rhythm. “First thing for me is to talk to God,” he began. “After prayers, I do light workouts, cook something nice, and then sit with my books for a long reading stretch. That’s my weekend formula—God, food, and study.”
Just across the lawn near the Faculty of Law, we met Elizabeth, a new entrant into the world of UI. Fresh from her secondary school days, she’s yet to fully taste university life. “I haven’t even met my classmates,” she said with a shy chuckle. “But I’m hopeful. I know when school resumes next week, everything will begin to feel real. I can’t wait to find my own circle of friends.”
At the heart of the historic Mellanby Hall, we met Inioluwa, a 300-level student of Veterinary Medicine who didn’t mince words about his academic experience. “Vet Medicine is not beans,” he said with a laugh, masking the fatigue in his voice. “From 8am to 5pm daily, we are either in lectures or practicals. If you cross a lecturer wrongly, na quiz or test fit land on your table.”
When asked about the teaching quality on campus, Inioluwa nodded with cautious approval. “Our lecturers sabi book, no doubt,” he admitted. “But some just don’t know how to break it down for everyone. You go dey class and still go home confused. But they try. Everybody dey manage am.”
Saturdays and Sundays offer little relief for Inioluwa. “Weekend is strictly for rest and mental reset,” he explained. “You use that time to sleep well and gear up for the wahala of the coming week. Trust me, this course no dey play with person.”
Speaking on preparations for the upcoming semester, Inioluwa revealed his concerns. “Next session na council exam level. It’s a big deal,” he said seriously. “I just dey pray make I get good hostel space. Where I stay now dey okay, but the toilet situation fit make person cry.”
Outside the hostel blocks, the UI campus had occasional visitors strolling its shaded paths. One such visitor was Simeon, a 200-level student from the Department of Electrical and Electronics Engineering at LAUTECH. He had come to visit a friend and was quick to reflect on his own campus routine. “For Lautech, weekend no be rest day o. Na laundry, assignments, and church activities full am.”
Simeon’s face lit up when he spoke of structure. “I like to plan my days. Every weekend must have a purpose. A life without a plan is like traveling without a map—you just dey waka aimlessly.”
Though Simeon was only visiting, he had a deep appreciation for UI’s tranquillity. “This place quiet well-well,” he observed. “You go fit read without wahala. But I hear say when session start, everywhere dey hot like market.”
As the sun began to dip behind the Senate Building, our final conversation was with Rukayat, a 200-level student of Communication and Language Arts, who had just returned from Ibadan city center. “Sometimes you just need to leave campus, even if it’s just to see town,” she said. “It helps you feel normal again. I use weekends for both fun and focus.”
The stillness of the UI campus may soon give way to the hustle and bustle that characterizes academic sessions. But within that calm, the stories of these students linger—each voice revealing how much the weekend means, not just as a pause from learning, but as a personal canvas where they paint their pace, passions, and purpose.
