Monday 19 October 2015

HOW TO DROP OUT OF FUTO EFFECTIVELY (Revised Standard Male Version)

The university is a tough place. Trust me. It comes with a freedom that is unequaled by any other. There are two ways to that: The good part is that you can while away your time in university, last last, your parents will sell a piece of land and get you a wife; the bad part is that you can make proper plans for your future before graduation.The best part about dropping out of school in Nigeria is that it decreases your chances of getting a job by 90%! Wonderful!
To help you with the good part, here are some ways you can drop out of school and still become a BILLIONAIRE:
Do not be prepared for Lectures:
 Attending lectures is perhaps the most unexciting activity in the entire world. In fact the president of one big African country is good example of how successful one can be in life without a University certificate. So do not be prepared for lectures.
It can be underwhelming to come to class and be able to complete notes. You know some of these lecturers talk fast, some mumble (or get off topic). So it is best not to look at the course outline and find out what the lecturer is lecturing on that particular day and take notes prior to the class, so you will be overwhelmed with copying everything on class days.
Social Media is Key:
Do not limit yourself on social media.  Facebook, Twitter, Whatsapp,  Snapchat, Instagram and other internet sites  are the real deal. You have to do those things, a lot. Do not, I repeat, do not concentrate on your studies first. Maybe if you have free time, you study.  You are in University (Mahadum) so you should mara hadum!
Assignments Suck:
Do not submit assignments. This is very important to dropping out of school and making it big. When a lecturer gives assignments (they give a lot of them remember), do not mind them at all. If you feel like stressing yourself a little, just submit an empty sheet of paper. Miracles still happen. Like the one you have heard about that did same and the lecturer put two question marks (??) on the script and later filled the score as 77! Isn’t that a miracle?
A friend with weed is a friend indeed:
Another good method is by smoking weed. A lot of it!  Among other things, it helps you imagine how the world would be without school. You can add some Codeine or Tramadol for increased ability for Wishful thinking.  You know this one already so I’ll just move to the next method.
Life is a gamble, don’t stop gambling:
You remember there is always a story about a friend of another friend who won millions of naira on football betting. (It doesn’t matter the exact amount, just put any figure you wish.) You know God works in mysterious ways and who knows, you might just be the next jackpot winner. So keep betting.  You can just get a sure game and stake your house- rent or school fees. God alone knows which hospital ward you will end up in. Don’t forget to remember me when you certainly do.

If you want to apply the religious method, here’s how;
You know Monday is bible study and then Tuesday is counseling. Mid-week service holds every Wednesday and Thursday is evangelism. Don’t forget Friday prayers- you know we wrestle not against flesh and blood…. The sanctuary has to be put in order for Sunday service. Pay your tithes as at when dues.  Don’t bother reading at all; grace is sufficient…even in the exam hall!

If perhaps you cannot cope with that one. Here’s a better clue:
You can constantly lurk around the female hostels in the evenings. You can even extend your tentacles to the other tertiary institutions around. Who knows, you might find your missing rib(s). If you can’t afford Sunic fast food or Eismann fries, take her to the nearest buka. Don’t bother asking her about her favourite food because you already know its shawarma. Whatever the heck happens after this point is all of your business and none of mine!
Better still, if you cannot afford the method above--probably because of either the cost or the responsibility, or both-- here’s a better way.
There a places outside school (there are always such places outside schools) where your physical needs are met at your own expenses. Such places abound around school. All you need do is put your eyes to the ground. There, you don’t need to send recharge cards or buy shawarma(s). What you pay is what you get. Did I say there’s premium service too? – Importation!
If after all these you are yet to decide which is best suitable to you, I’ll make a last ditch attempt offer some help:
You can employ the use of some amount of liquid mixed with a solid particle and help your ministry, if none of those is readily available; saliva is a worthy friend in such need.
Just like king Solomon said; whatever your right hand finds to do, do it diligently.
When you abide by these instructions, you wouldn’t even realize when you would have dropped out of school effectively.
You can add your own method in the comment section.

Thursday 8 October 2015

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE VICE-CHANCELLOR OF FEDERAL UNIVERSITY OF TECHNOLOGY, OWERRI



Dear sir,

 Happy Sallah in arrears. I trust you are well. I decided to write to you to bare my mind. I came to FUTO for the post-utme and I was surprised by what I saw. My elder brother even says the place is heaven compared to when he was an undergraduate in the late 2000s.
To be honest with you sir, I have really suffered. I graduated from secondary school in 2009. Yes. My Aunt gave birth to a baby boy the day I wrote my last paper. The boy walked into the room as I’m writing this letter. His presence just made me realize how long I have stayed at home. Sir, the annoying part of it is that he came in carrying a plate of garri and soup. He is old enough to eat garri!  That’s how long it has been!

I was among those that wrote JAMB that same year and I had a reasonable score too. All we had to do was pay the invigilators to help us with the answers from their phones. Unfortunately, I had a D7- in Maths- in my WAEC exams. It took me a total of 2 years and a Special Center in far away Edo state to get a complete WAEC result.

Sir, the witches in my village were disappointed that I had finally gotten a chance to attend University, and FUTO for that matter.  They began planning against me. Last year, I came to FUTO for the first time.  As those witches would have it sir, I arrived at the examination hall a day after the exam was written, as scheduled. The worst part was that the Okada man told me we had to go through Senate Building before we reach SEET Head, from where I would find my supposed exam hall. So he charged me 500 naira from the school park, after a 10-minute ride. Witches!
So you see when I discovered the exams were to be written at the FUTO ICT Center, I was the happiest man on earth. At last the Okada men have finally gotten payback. No one would have to bike to the exam halls from the park again.

Sir why did it have to be CBT na? I don’t even know what you told those ICT people sef. They were just behaving as if it was one international army exam.  Even one guy wey I use get hope to send me answers couldn’t do anything for me. The idiot said the thing cast. Way no dey!

But sir, you know that the education system has since spoiled. E don tey wey em spoil. And it wasn’t us that messed it up. I wonder why we are the ones to suffer for the labour of our heroes past. I know you will say that the fixing must begin from somewhere. I know you might even say that I am lazy and stupid, but to be honest sir, the longer one stays at home out of school, the faster their common sense diminishes. I wrote another JAMB this year with the help of God and I got 260. I couldn’t even get half of that in the Post-Utme. Chai!
Please sir, don’t let the evil people in my village succeed. They have vowed that I will never attend University. I just want to ask for two things:

1.        Is it possible to conduct another Post-Utme exams for people whose scores are below PMB and Osinbajo’s ages combined?
2.       Can you hire those people that invigilate WAEC examinations for this supplementary Post-Utme?

I know you have the power to do it sir. If you do this for me and my brothers and sisters in this predicament, we will keep praying for you. God bless you in advance.



Yours Honestly,
Aggrieved  FUTO aspirant.


Tuesday 6 October 2015

If Wishes Were Horses(Fiction)

My head was swarming with a myriad thoughts. I had never felt this way before. It was difficult to hold on to any one thought as the faces around me seemed to fade to a blur. I knew I was happy, I just didn’t know why.

Slowly, the pictures began to take a mild clarity. I could make out the surroundings. I was at the convocation arena! Yes! I remember we used to jostle for position in queues every time we needed to make use of the ATM machines here; I remember I would usually talk someone into helping me make withdrawals because my position in the queue was far-back. We all silently shared in the grief of a failed system.
                                                                   ****
The voice of the MC of the occasion invaded my train of thoughts, jarring me to reality.
“…and the award for the best graduating student of the year goes to the only first-class honours student of this graduating class; our very own Ebuka Kelechukwu. He made a cumulative grade point average of….”

Only then did I realize it was my convocation ceremony! How time flies! It felt like yesterday- when this same school wouldn’t offer me admission for four post-secondary school years no matter how hard I tried. I still recollect vividly how disappointed I was when it finally did. I already got an admission to study in the US and Papa wouldn’t let me go because ‘it is expensive studying overseas’.

“…student of high repute. Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s give him a rousing applause as he steps up to collect his award”. His voice bellowed out from the loudspeakers.
The whole picture became crystal clear, I noticed the mammoth crowd gathered like they did each year to celebrate the transition of book-stuffed but clueless students who have successfully made it through the five years of mental persecution. I recognized everyone I know- course mates, lecturers and the vice-chancellor.
I slowly but firmly made for the podium, holding my oversize convocation gown in place. I hadn’t prepared any speech, probably because I never saw this coming. I knew I just had to come up with a speech before I reach the microphone-studded podium.
“The vice-chancellor of this great mental institution, the dean of students’ affairs, academic and non-academic staff here present, my fellow students and our numerous well-wishers, permit me to stand on the existing protocol”.
It was somewhat amusing at that point watching the crowd listen with rapt attention. I gently wiped a bead of sweat from my brow before delivering my sucker punch.

“Permit me to say unequivocally that our Education system which this school is a part of, has failed us woefully! Permit me to also assert that today, just like every other convocation day, many of us will return to our homes and realize that our years here was more of a dream-sapping, mentally-gruelling, academically-clueless streak than it is of a mental and academic emancipation. To cut the long story short, I want to say that I don’t want a first-class honours from this school. Not because my poor parents at home wouldn’t love it, not just because it places a certain false sense of unprepared-for responsibility to perform magic even when we are not properly taught how to, but also because I honestly do not want it”.
At this point, I could see the vice-chancellor’s face crumple in visible annoyance but I didn’t care; I don’t care.
“I solemnly beg you of this, please take your first-class and give me a second-class upper honours biko!
And do it as quickly as possible so I can leave immediately with it. I have big dreams but this school almost snuffed life out of them. Oga VC, don’t take this personal, inugo?
I was going to tell them how some students chose to understand that inasmuch as getting good grades is important, having dreams and working towards them is of equal if not more importance; while some others simply chose to just go along and more often ended up not getting as much grades as they wanted, and not getting ‘educated’ either. I was going to tell them how my friend represented this country internationally on numerous occasions in areas parallel to his course of study, a good example of the fizzling chunk of students who work towards self-development instead of cramming pointless school books. I had a whole lot to tell them.
                                                                ****
I felt something hit me and I cringed in pain. I slowly opened my eyes to realize I was sprawled on the floor. The journey I began last night on the mattress, ended on the rug-ed floor. Then reality hit me- I have an engineering survey class to attend by 7:30am.
 Chai!