In Nigeria’s public universities, the student-lecturer relationship has long been a tense and fragile one. Beyond the lecture halls and exam scripts lie deep-rooted issues of mistrust, intimidation, and silent victimisation. Increasingly, students are sharing their experiences online, shedding light on a system many describe as arbitrary, vindictive, and dangerously unpredictable.
A chilling account shared anonymously revealed how a final-year student was told by a professor that she didn’t sit for a crucial exam. “You own is even better,” she began, narrating how the professor confidently declared she should “go and join the next set.” The student only escaped being forced to spill (repeat an academic year) thanks to another professor who intervened and asked for the script to be checked. “Got 48 in the exam without CA. I for spill o,” she wrote, grateful for what seemed like divine intervention.
Another respondent recalled approaching a lecturer about a strange grade, only to be met with disdain. “This man told me, ‘Ehen, did you fail? Was it an F?’” The dismissive tone reflects a common experience among students: that raising concerns is not just unwelcome, it can be dangerous.
One postgraduate student recounted how a minor disagreement led to academic consequences. “I once got a C because I complained about moving a lecture to 1-3pm on Friday,” she said. “A few years later, I took a course with the same lecturer during my master’s and it was the only C I got in the entire program.” The implication was clear—grades, in some cases, are not a reflection of academic performance but personal vendettas.
In another case, a student of Agriculture from the University of Ilorin described what happened during a notorious mass failure incident in a course believed to be AGY203. “I had a C, my friend Farhan got a D, so we went to the lecturer,” the student said. According to her, the lecturer’s response was both unsettling and revealing: “‘You guys were lucky, many people failed,’ she said laughing.” Despite being dissatisfied, the student said, “I kuku didn’t say anything—I was happy with mine.”
Such experiences speak to a broader culture in Nigeria’s public universities where fear and survival instincts often trump a student’s right to question academic outcomes. With little transparency and no effective grievance systems, students are left to either quietly accept injustice or risk retaliation.
Some lecturers, students claim, wield power in ways that extend beyond academics—rewarding loyalty and punishing dissent. The lack of oversight creates an environment where arbitrary grading can go unchecked. Stories of students failing after falling out of favour or simply asking for clarity on results are disturbingly common.
Even more disturbing is the normalization of these behaviours. Students, especially undergraduates, are often told not to “make noise” or “fight” for fair grading because doing so could endanger their academic future. “We always hear, ‘Just let it go, you still have more courses with him,’” said a student from a South-West university.
In cases where students demand remarks or script verification, many report being stonewalled or gaslighted. Some lecturers even pretend scripts are missing until pressured by higher authorities. “It’s psychological warfare,” one graduate said. “You need backing, luck, or miracles to survive.”
The lack of a proper, student-centered feedback mechanism in most public universities contributes to the toxicity. In developed systems, grading is transparent, and students can challenge results without fear. But in Nigeria, students say the odds are stacked against them.
As technology and reforms slowly enter Nigerian higher education, many hope these outdated and abusive academic cultures will be phased out. Automated grading, anonymous evaluation, and real student-lecturer accountability are just a few of the urgent reforms needed to restore fairness.
Until then, Nigerian students continue to endure a system that too often treats their academic fate as a game of chance. As one student put it bluntly, “It’s not even about passing or failing—it’s about surviving the system with your dignity and sanity intact.”
