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HEAR OUR TEARS AND SEE OUR CRY




Now in his 200 level at the university, Chinedu could still remember vividly how happy he felt when he gained admission into the department of Mass Communication, University of Nigeria, Nsukka, just about nineteen months ago. How he saw the campus beckoning to his dreams and aspirations. But ever since he stepped into the university, he has been met with shocking revelations, contrasts to all he had imagined his university days to be like.
Chinedu woke up this Tuesday morning feeling exhausted. He had read all through the night and had to sleep around 4am. He was what university students call "a bookworm". But beside the young lad who read often and showed strong academic zeal was one disillusioned by the poor state of education in Nigeria. Whenever the thought of the state of his university and that of other higher institutions of learning in Nigeria came to his mind, he was plunged into depression. He has always tried to show what he can do while in the university but was not given the opportunity. So, this morning, he woke up with this thought; and his mood was all but cheerful.
To steer his mind away from that lonely road of depression, he picked up his school bag and brought out the university's newsletter which he collected from a lecturer in his department. As if to stir him the more, one of the articles in it read: "THE VC, JONAH AJANEKA, URGES STUDENTS TO SEE THE UNIVERSITY AS A PLACE TO PRACTISE THEIR INTENDED CAREER." He began to read the article. About halfway into it Chinedu shouted, 'Rubbish! Trash! Mere talk!' He looked like an enraged lion. 'Is it not the same thing I have been trying to do ever since I gained admission into this university,' he said, between a question and a statement.
Truth is, Chinedu knew he was a good writer. Right from his secondary school days he published his articles, essays at any opportunity he had. He made sure his works are published in his church's brochure and his school's annual prize-giving day magazine. He entered the university hoping to mount the bigger stage. But the more he tried, the more he is deterred by the system. Recently, he was told bluntly by his HOD that the department cannot help him with the finance to publish an annual academic achievements magazine for the department.
The idea had not that myopic. Chinedu had hoped to publish a university-wide magazine. But when he presented the idea to the necessary body he was advised to take the idea to his faculty. At the faculty the Dean commended the idea and quickly added that the faculty is handicapped financially. 'The idea is great and worthwhile, but to be sincere to you, there's no money. Count on us on other supports but finance,' the Dean had said. The Dean advised him to take the idea to his department. 'Through the help of your department's alumni, you could publish for the department, and what a stepping stone that could be.'
 'Thank you sir,' was all Chinedu said, was all he could say as he stood up and made for the door.
So, when he left the HOD's office that day he was disillusioned. And now he has a paper in hand that quite contrasts his experience.
'Hypocrites! Hypocrites!' Chinedu screamed again as he threw the paper to the wall. Amid that his phone rang. He rose from his bed and made his way to his reading desk where he had dropped his phone. It was a foreign number.
It was his friend Hasan Mohamad. He had gone to Canada to study. Chinedu remembered how he was persuaded by his father to school abroad, but out of patriotism, or what he now calls ignorance, he opted for a university education in Nigeria.
Chinedu's father had done the necessary things to have Chinedu also go to Canada, but at the eleventh hour, Chinedu rejected the offer. He told his father if Soyinka and Achebe could make it in Nigeria, he too could.  They were his icons. But now Chinedu began to see the clearer picture. He had concluded that education in Nigeria during the days of Achebe and Soyinka had an overwhelming influence of the colonialists, which explains why they were successful. In an article he had written, one of his concluding paragraphs read: "This day, the academia has turned into an employment option of last resort. Anyone who seeks employment and couldn't find heads into our teeming tertiary institutions claiming the title of an academic." This, on its own, saddened Chinedu. Before he gained admission into the university, he had held the academics in high esteem, seeing them as a distinguished set of people. While in the university, Chinedu had written to his friend Hassan telling him that only a few measured up to that standard.
 Hassan sent him a voicemail telling Chinedu that his school accepted his proposal to publish, promising to call him at night. Chinedu didn't utter a word. He just stood like one hypnotised. When he regained himself he dropped the phone, walked to where he dropped the newsletter took it up and tore it into shreds. He made for the bathroom, quickly had his bath, wore his clothe and went to the embassy, hoping he was still eligible after eighteen months.
 

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