Are Fulani herds men your friends? – Viola Okolie

Are Fulani herds men your friends? – Viola Okolie

If Fulani Herdsmen and Boko Haram were to suddenly converge upon your hamlet at the same time and by some quaint stroke of luck, the herdsmen were able to overcome Boko Haram,
would you then be safe to assume that Fulani Herdsmen are your friends?

If Nigerian police on the other hand, were to chance upon a rampaging band of Boko Haramists tearing your village apart; and by some strange stroke of luck, the Nigerian police were fully and better armed, and didn’t need you to roger for fuel first, and had men who were more inclined to stand and fight than to pull off their uniforms and berets and mingle with the crowd…
…and this fictional band of Nigerian police were to tackle the haramists headlong and end up defeating them and liberating your village, would you be considered a mad man if you declared “The Nigerian Police is my friend?”

This in spite of the fact that their pot-bellied brothers are bound to delay you over N50 roger until you miss a multi-million naira contract; the IPOs decide the merit of cases brought to them on “who go fit roger pass” – accused or accuser; and the police spokesman has recently declared the duplicitous pepper spray an “offensive weapon.”

Who would you be in a greater hurry to embrace and declare your “friend” and messiah from the evil and rampaging insurgents?


Okay, a tape trended a couple of days back, where a randy he-goat of a university don was suggesting to his student that if she could give “it” to him five times, he would reciprocate with a much needed 7 marks that would raise her scores from a failing 33, to a passable 40.

As in, whatever “it” was, if Aunty delivered it to Uncle 5 times; she would be able to thumb her nose at someone who narrowly missed passing the course by one mark, and prepare happily, for the next level of the course she already woefully failed and for which an attempt to at least understand the course either through sitting a make up exam or carrying over the course to the next session; was subverted by “It” raised to the power 5.

At this point, I would have said “none of my business”, but for the fact that the student was beginning to be slowly immortalized by Nigerians. All that was left was to send her name down to Imo state for Ndaa Rochas to commission one statue on her behalf. This girl, depending on what end of the joint you were smoking, was suddenly crowned a hero, shero or sheroine.
*In Mr. Ibu’s voice* Leelee?!?!?!


When we were in school, we had a group of (mainly female) students, that we referred to as “nonacademic students”. They were in school with you, matriculated with you and wore their gowns and took pictures on matric day which they gleefully shared as evidence that they were in a tertiary institution – in case anyone was nosing around – and then they kind of faded into the background. You hardly saw them again in class until it was time to sit continuous assessment tests and/or write exams.

Then they would come into the class, oozing strong perfumes that could easily choke out everything you had crammed in preparation for the exams from your head, sit there looking pretty and flicking their hair – perhaps their only contribution would be their matric numbers which they would write at the top of their answer scripts.

Yet at the end of the entire academic race, you that had spent your four to five years plus countless nights plus extra semesters and carry overs; and these nonacademic students, would play the same draw match with the university.

Second Class Honors – Lower Division.

What happened na?
These Aunties would have quietly gone to negotiate with the lecturers to receive grades in exchange for – let your imaginations run wild here please, just know that there were different grades of girls and therefore, negotiations were usually grade by grade; kala kala – and were awarded marks and degrees which they could not defend, even if their lives depended on it.

Last last, they are “graduates”.
Bachelor of whatever it is they scammed the university of, with one or two “horns” as the case may be.

So, why would I equate this una angel with rusty iron wings with these class of nonacademic or at best, unserious students?

Well quite simply, by listening to the tape she presented as evidence to nail the professor of the crime of academic fraud. It was a case of thief catch thief where there was no honor among them and therefore one was under no obligation to maintain their coven’s code of silence.

Professor had broken their code by asking for five rounds of “it”.

Beyond that, the verbal and non-verbal cues were littered all over the tape for someone who was listening keenly and not just for entertainment purposes.

This is a popular (not to mention infamous) professor who was also a church pastor to boot, one would imagine that his phone would be ringing off the hook with all sorts of calls from all sorts of people and yet, this girl jumped straight into discussion without introducing herself. The only explanation that makes sense for me, is that he saved her name as “5 “it” for seven marks”. Other than that, they knew themselves.

Oh, and he did mention, “If I was not interested in doing “it”, I would not have given you audience” – I don’t know but that did not sound like someone making an offer, but someone to whom an offer was made, an offer he was considering based on certain indices known only to him.


Are we even going to talk about how someone who had gone undercover as Nigerian Universities latest undercover agent, helping to unearth the “rot” in Nigeria’s academic sector and was taking a tape as evidence, was not cognizant of the fact that that tape would be subject to scrutiny and therefore did not ensure that she established the fact that she had (1)passed the course and was being marked down (2) queried her marks for which she was then being offered an opportunity to trade “it” for seven marks, etc…

The tape was riddled with all these verbal and nonverbal cues – they were right there in our faces.

But we are supposed to ignore them all so that what will happen again?

The rot in our tertiary institutions are twofold: lecturers who trade grades for sex; and students who trade sex for grades.

Both are a malaise in the sector. Both need to be identified and flushed out of the system.

None is a “victim” in the true sense of the word and even though the lecturers should have a higher sense of responsibility; the “nonacademic” students should also not be allowed to continue to proliferate their trade in the campuses, something they almost always attempt to transfer to the work place.

So, while we are grateful to Aunty for ratting out her partner in crime, we would advise her not to breathe easy.

Olosho wey report him customer to police, the two of them dey the same level of trouble. She should brace herself and wait for the inevitable.
She put out a tape in public space, she cannot prevent analysis of it and neither can she prevent the prof from putting up a spirited defense in a bid to discredit her.

We are grateful to her for helping us to flush one of the idiots disgracing the tertiary institutions with their restless third legs and putting the body of Christ to shame when they are by day one way and by night another; but…

Students who also opt for negotiation of marks rather than studying, are also a cancer in the system and need to be flushed out.

Now that prof is out of the way, hopefully this haunty would reveal the inner Einstein that was suppressed by the randy prof if not, let the academic natural selection have its way.

Because embracing her as a hero (shero, heroine), is akin to embracing Fulani Herdsmen and declaring them your “friends” for delivering you from the clutches of Boko Haram.

We think you'd love these too...

Related posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *