Promises and Prostration: The Theatre of UI Politics

 Promises and Prostrations: The Theatre of UI Politics

Abigail Kareem

The second semester in the University of Ibadan always has a peculiar atmosphere. Beyond the rush of tests, assignments, and endless lectures, another spectacle begins to unfold, the grand drama of student politics. Suddenly, every hallway, noticeboard, hostel, and even WhatsApp group becomes a campaign ground. Stickers appear on walls like stubborn eczema, posters in all colours and sizes multiply overnight, and before long, “Vote for X,” “Support Y,” and “Stand with Z” take over the entire campus.

For those new to the experience, it almost feels like the school has turned into a carnival ground. But for older students, it’s a tired, recurring performance with new actors, but with a similar or nearly opposite script. Every year, aspirants dust off the same campaign lines: “I will improve welfare,” “I will bring accountability,” “I will ensure your voices are heard.” Big and fine words. But words that often dissolve into thin air once power land in their hands.

And what’s funnier? Many of these aspirants begin campaigning before the official campaign ban is lifted. They call it “awareness,” but we know what it is. The flyers are already circulating weeks before INEC pardon me, UI Electoral Commission gives the go-ahead. Their supporters too are ever eager, flooding class WhatsApp groups. Yes, you may be checking your group for an assignment submission update, only to see a glossy flyer of someone’s face smiling at you with the caption: “The time for change is now.”

But here is where UI politics reaches its dramatic peak: hostel campaigns. Anyone who has lived in Mellanby, Queens, Awo, Idia, Indy or Zik knows that aspirants see these hostels as their personal campaign fields. Some will trek from one hall to another, around the time that students are expected to be resting from the day's activities, while their friends beat drums or chant praises. At female hostels, the theatrics become even more interesting. Aspirants prostrate, kneel, and sometimes even sing love songs in the name of securing votes. 

And then there are the promises. Sweet, sugar-coated promises. Candidates suddenly become prophets of welfare and messiahs of development. They speak of reviving campus activities, ensuring constant water and electricity. Some even go as far as proposing to “bridge the gap between students and management” or “stand fearlessly against oppression.” Noble, right? But deep down, students can’t help but roll their eyes. Because haven’t we heard all these before? Haven’t we clapped and cheered before? Haven’t we been disappointed before?

The irony, of course, is that many of these students passionately criticize Nigerian politicians for empty promises, vote-buying, and desperate campaigns. Yet, on campus, they replicate the very same things. They flood us with posters, and most times oversell their capabilities. 

And the students? Well, they play their part too. Some genuinely care and ask tough questions about policies. Others just enjoy the freebies. A few even decide their votes based on who knelt the lowest or who shouted the loudest in their hostel entrance. Cynicism grows stronger with each election season, but participation never stops. Because at the end of the day, elections in UI are part of the semester’s entertainment package.

But one can’t help but wonder: will things ever change? Will there come a time when campaigns will be more about concrete plans than colourful flyers? When students will vote based on issues rather than antics? When aspirants will resist the urge to become “baby politicians” and instead see themselves as genuine leaders in training? Or is this just how it will always be promises, prostrations, and posters recycled year after year?

As the next election season kicks off, the questions hang heavy in the air. Perhaps a few candidates will rise above the noise, show integrity, and actually deliver. Or perhaps we are in for yet another season of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Either way, brace yourselves, UItes. The flyers are already being printed, the campaign jingles rehearsed, and the prostrations scheduled. The theatre of UI politics is about to open its curtains once again.