Good Nigerians Sponsoring my Masters Trip: In Kind and Cash -By Hussein Adegoke

On the 13th of April 2021, I decided to embark on the journey of my masters programme at the Federal University of Technology, Akure, having made applications into the school in late December of 2020. The matriculation ceremony was scheduled for the 15th of April. My intention was to attend the event then go back home to chart the course on which the programme would run for me. Arriving in Akure in the dead of the night, at about 11pm, there was almost no place for me to lay my head. So, I took asylum in the gate house of the school where security men (‘the Sheriff’) dock. This Sheriff who hosted me – without having seen or known me from Adam – would be the first ‘good’ Nigerian I recognized.

The following morning was the 14th of April which was 24 hours away from the matric day. I was directed to a mosque down South of the school where, in the words of an esteemed friend who had left the school, ‘I would be meeting jolly good friends who would assist you in your pursuit’. Alas! The first man I spoke to at Obakekere (the nomenclature given to the South of the school) happened to be my very coursemate. He had expressed curious surprises at my coming which was running up to two months after full resumption. It was at that point I learnt that a handful of lectures and a couple of assessments had gone by. In a nutshell, this brother (his name is Abdulrahman) had calmed my fears. He guided me to my department which I would ordinarily have found difficult to locate in good time. He introduced me to my class governor, Ogaga Ohfasa Junior, and a couple of my departmental collegiates. Abdulrahman Agbede took his time out to ensure that I paid my school fees at the appropriate places. He readily made the second ‘good’ Nigerian in my encounter.

Meanwhile, the story about school fees is the biggest plot in this treatise. Well, having garnered some funds ahead of the programme, I had squandered my savings elsewhere thinking the admissions would be more delayed. As I had nothing on me to offset my school fees, I quickly reached out to my brother-in-law, ‘MD’, as fondly called by admirers who doubles as my mentor – one man who is a cheerful giver – to seek help. I requested that he loaned me some money; all these being ahead of my late arrival in Akure. He had unhesitantly sent me the funds between 48 hours. But it was to my utmost shock when this man’s wife, my own sister, called to say that her husband had foregone the money. ‘A hundred and fifty thousand naira?!’ I exclaimed. No one had before then dashed me such humongous sum. The other time I got something close was when I would receive a hundred-thousand-naira annual bursary from a scholarship board (as an undergraduate). ‘MD’ has a large heart, no doubt. His name readily comes to mind as the Yoruba’s cliché of ‘afuni-ma-wobe’ (giver who looks away) is rendered. It was of course to no consternation then when the news that ‘MD’ had become unfaced for the next councillorship position in Alimosho constituency of Lagos State heralded. MD is one business tycoon I know who started from the most pedestrian level and now giving back benevolently to the community that made him. He has empowered many, promoted a few and employed – into his several small-scale businesses – young astute Nigerians who are dogged and resilient to work. There is no gainsaying in this supposition as this treatise has already announced this writer as a beneficiary of the bearer’s sheer magnanimity.

My masters programme, even as it is yet uncompleted, has been riddled with deluge of troubles. As I had to run from “pillar to post” – and this is one funny phrase to my coursemates each time I churn it – my assets suffered for it. On that fateful day, the 22nd of May 2021, my infinix S5 phone (128 gig) got stolen from the lecture theatre in which I was going to pass the night. The phone is beyond a hundred thousand naira now, as we speak, even if I had bought it for a lesser amount. I lost myself in some random slumber having had a tiresome day in Prof Arum’s zoom class that spanned across three hours and having been involved in a host of other endeavours during the day. In the end, I could not retrace the phone which must have been carted away by some tiny ugly hungry miscreants.

It would be important that I mention the loss of that precious asset – call it a gadget – that I had not envisaged its indispensability up until that moment. For one thing, that singular event brought upon me rhapsodies of tribulations that I had not envisaged for the duration of my coursework. But for the jolly good Nigerians I met; my pains were alleviated. I was privileged to meet with Brother Qassim, a young astute Jamb student, who lent me his alternative phone. Without Qassim’s humble gesture, it would have been impossible for me to reach out to friends and coursemates who might keep me abreast of crucial class developments and as well help me retrieve the documents I lost with the missing phone. It was in this regard that Brother Mukthar Adeshokan, too, had come be a fortress. He was the same man who earlier furnished me with the materials on my late resumption.

Talking about well-meaning Nigerians still, I remember having pushed a letter through to the university postgraduate school for my admissions deferment circa April this year, 2021. It took serious admonitions from, and interventions of, Agbede and Adeshokan before I conceded to running the programme yet upon my late resumption. To the glory of God, to the philanthropism of the new aspirant for Lagos State House membership, and to this duo and several people unmentioned, on the 8th of October 2021, I had conquered 2 semesters, 39 units and 13 courses forming the course-work part of my masters programme. For the nicety of many Nigerians, their humble gestures without need for reciprocation, there is hope in our country’s robust future, however impalpable.