The unspoken price of success in Nigerian higher institutions

Nigerian universities were established to produce knowledge, character, and competent graduates who can contribute meaningfully to national development. From lecture halls in Zaria to campuses in Nsukka, Ilorin, Kashere, and Calabar, the expectation is the same: students earn their grades through hard work, while lecturers assess them with fairness and professionalism. Unfortunately, this ideal is […]

The unspoken price of success in Nigerian higher institutions

Nigerian universities were established to produce knowledge, character, and competent graduates who can contribute meaningfully to national development. From lecture halls in Zaria to campuses in Nsukka, Ilorin, Kashere, and Calabar, the expectation is the same: students earn their grades through hard work, while lecturers assess them with fairness and professionalism. Unfortunately, this ideal is increasingly threatened by the growing problem of transactional relationships between lecturers and students.

Across many Nigerian campuses, stories circulate quietly about lecturers who demand money, gifts, or sexual favors in exchange for marks, project supervision, or the promise of help during examinations. These stories are rarely written, rarely reported, and rarely punished, yet they are widely known. The reality is that transactional lecturer student relationships have become one of the most damaging but least confronted problems in Nigeria’s higher education system.

At the heart of the issue is power. Nigerian lecturers control continuous assessment scores, examination scripts, project approvals, and in some cases, whether a student graduates on time or remains stuck in the system for years. In an academic environment where carryovers and delayed graduation are common fears, this power can easily be abused.

Sexual exploitation is perhaps the most disturbing form of this transactional relationship. Despite policies against sexual harassment in Nigerian universities, students, particularly female students, continue to report cases of coercion disguised as romantic relationships. In reality, the imbalance of power makes genuine consent difficult.

The consequences are visible and painful. Academic standards decline as grades lose their meaning. Employers increasingly question the quality of Nigerian graduates, and society suffers from the output of institutions that reward manipulation instead of merit. Beyond academics, many victims carry emotional scars, shame, and silence long after leaving school. Worse still, institutions often prioritise reputation over justice, quietly transferring offenders instead of holding them accountable.

What keeps this crisis alive is silence. Students fear victimisation, victim blaming, or being labeled difficult. Reporting mechanisms are either weak or not trusted, and disciplinary processes are often slow and opaque. As a result, many victims choose to endure rather than speak, while perpetrators grow bolder.

Lecturers in universities are not just employees; they are mentors, role models, and custodians of knowledge. When they abuse their position, they betray both their profession and the future of the nation. Students, too, must understand that participating in transactional relationships even under pressure damages the integrity of their education and devalues their certificates.

Solving this problem requires more than policies on paper. Nigerian universities must enforce strict sanctions without favoritism, establish anonymous and credible reporting channels, and educate both staff and students on academic ethics. Government agencies and university management must also improve funding and staff welfare to reduce systemic pressures that enable corruption.

Transactional relationships between lecturers and students are not isolated moral failures; they are a national educational crisis. If Nigerian universities are to reclaim their credibility, integrity must be non-negotiable. Education should never come with hidden demands, and no student should have to pay for grades with money, fear, or dignity.

The consequences ripple far beyond individual campuses. When students believe that grades can be purchased or coerced, academic standards decline. Employers begin to question the credibility of Nigerian degrees. And the moral cost, the quiet erosion of trust between students and lecturers, leaves scars that cannot easily be measured.

 

Abdulsamad Danji Abdulqadir, Department of Mass Communication, Federal University, Kashere, Gombe State