What’s Going On Special: A timeline of the ASUU Strike In Nigeria
now in its sixth month
Towards the eighties, the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) was formed. This was made official in 1978, extending the reach of what was formerly the National Association of University Teachers into a more national entity. Previously consisting only of the legacy universities of Abuja, Lagos, Ife, Zaria and Nsukka, the newly-formed body was very influential in pushing for academic reforms through the military-led years of the eighties. Through the preceding decades, that significance only bolstered as a return to democracy in 1999 placed the priority of educational legacy under the eyes of the Olusegun Obasanjo-led government.
In the 23 years since then, the phenomena of ASUU strikes have been rife. Any average person who has gone through the federal tertiary system knows how synonymous those words have become with education in Nigeria. The frequency of the strikes also demonstrate how further apart education has grown from federal policies, quite unabashedly so in the eyes of the ruling elite. Currently with the ongoing strike action, university students have been at home for almost six months.
On February 14th 2022, millions of federal university students received the news that ASUU were embarking on a month-long warning strike, and lecturers would only be back in classes if the federal government met their demands. In a statement by the body’s national President, Professor Emmanuel Osodeke, the association revealed that an agreement signed in December 2020—one which put an end to a nine-month strike—had not been fully implemented by the Muhammadu Buhari’s government. This was after it had declared a lecture-free day the week before, aimed at sensitising university communities and the general public to the government’s blatant failure to honour their previous agreement.
“ASUU will not relent in its historic responsibility of advocating for an improved university system,” said the union’s leadership, stating that “this is because it holds the key to our collective prosperity and better future for our children and our children’s children; so, let us work together to fix it. We don’t like to see our students at home. We don’t want our academic calendars disrupted but our demands are not met.”
In his own statement a few days later, the Minister of Labour and Employment, Dr. Chris Ngige blamed the union for not giving a 14-day strike notice, saying that it was “a clear breach of labour laws.” That statement saw him grasp at long-winded inefficiency of government bureaucracies, saying that ASUU’s clamouring for the University Transparency and Accountability Solutions (UTAS) was to be approved by higher powers in the government, the very government who had turned a blind eye to the December 2020 decision. Even though he reported that the country’s premier technical agency had finished its assessment of UTAS, no prior announcements were made as the strike continued to roll on and on.
On their part, the ASUU have been fairly communicative of the myriad reasons behind their strike action. When President Buhari announced the utilisation of the Integrated Personnel and Payroll Information System in 2019, they kicked against it and highlighted its problems for the fluidity and autonomy of the academia, a field that’s markedly different from the motions of regular civil service. Since its February strike, while the government and its agents have continued to strut their arrogance and unaccountability, the association have continued to speak with the press and indirectly parsing information through third-party social media channels, with some of those crucially using Gen-Z language to appeal to the knowledge of young Nigerian undergraduates.
Since 1999, ASUU have embarked on about sixteen strikes. This latest tussle is an offshoot of the renegotiated 2009 agreement between the union and the Federal Government and speaks more to the latter’s indifference to the long-held practice of affording the universities’ little autonomy. This has not been summarily discussed nor updated with the times. Whenever the topic is broached, the Labour Minister and his Education counterpart, Mallam Adamu Adamu, are always certain to maintain disbursing some funds to ASUU, which feeds the union’s opinion that the government isn’t aware of the shifting nuances of education and the economy.
Which way is Nigeria headed? I bought 50 litres of diesel for my car at the cost of N40, 000 in Enugu. I’m wondering how we will all survive this hardship. As a Law Professor that has reached the last step and stage in promotion at a Federal University, I’m paid about 400k per
— Prof. Joy N. Ezeilo (OON) (@NgoziEzeilo) June 15, 2022
Two months ago, a university lecturer—who is actually a professor—made a tweet bemoaning her salary earning of four-hundred thousand naira. This was met with uproar considering that the nation’s lawmakers easily make more than that off bureaucratic allowances that should rather be catered for by their basic salaries. After a claim by Senator Shehu Sani in 2018 that the average Nigerian senator earns approximately 13 million each month, the Revenue Mobilization, Allocation and Fiscal Community said that each senator’s salary and allowances tally just a little over one million naira.
Still, there should be no argument that Nigerian politicians are paid in a grossly indifferent way to the plight of other civil servants. This inadvertently contributes to the god complex most government officials possess, moving through spaces callously and without regard for the average Nigerian. If you read in between the lines of the many statements, you’d see how much of the ASUU strike is an ego problem, of certain figures incessantly clashing against each other and hampering the progression of lasting negotiations.
About two weeks ago, President Buhari seemed to wake up from his slumber. The incumbent president called for an executive meeting, which lead to little to no results. His statements released afterwards leaned into the militaristic behaviour of giving orders without any recognition of nuance. He kicked Dr. Ngige off the negotiation table, who’s been accused by the union of disrespect and being an “unabashed protagonist in the crisis.”
In his stead, Mallam Adamu was placed. But this is also a man who angrily walked out of a meeting with representatives of the National Association of Nigerian Students, right after a comment was made about the children of most Nigerian politicians are students of well-run foreign universities. In a report by Premier Times, it was suggested that the two weeks “deadline” given to end the strike was actually made by the Minister of Education. The report also highlighted an alleged rift between Dr. Ngige and Mallam Adamu, the heads of governmental bodies that should ideally be collaborating for a quick dissolution of the strike.
The aforementioned report also revealed that the past five years have seen the government budget only five to eight percent of the annual budget for education, falling quite short of the fifteen to twenty percent recommended by UNESCO. Coupled with the insecurity in some regions, this has resulted in over 18.5million children being out of school, while academic standards across federal universities have severely declined. As such, in solidarity with their fellow union members, the National Labour Congress embarked on a nationwide three-day demonstration. As reported by Al Jazeera, thousands of union members marched to important locations within the states of Lagos, Osun, Oyo, Kano, Kebbi and the country’s capital, Abuja.
In all of this, undergraduates have reacted with typical defiance. Even as many of us—this writer included—take to online jobs and internships, the rising cost of services have resulted in a whole lot of physical stress for many young Nigerians. This current moment bears testimony to the government’s lackadaisical approach to education even though current undergraduates will be expected to fill up the labour force in the next five years or more. Their outdated policies have also essentially criminalised cryptocurrencies, which was seen as a viable pathway to financial freedom. And with different sets of students clogging up the academic calendar, there’s no doubt there will be a rush whenever schools resume, much to the detriment of the students’ learning.
This strike is affecting me. It’s not even about time wasted but the academic and mental stress that comes with it.
I can’t even move on with my life. The unproductivity is killing me.— LOLA
(@lolaarae_) August 1, 2022
Currently, there is growing insecurity in many university towns right now because students–who are the largest stakeholders in these neighbourhoods—aren’t present. Also, a wide spate of economic services around such places are sure to have taken a downturn, from computer centres to restaurants, bars, provision shops, medicine stores and many others.
Two weeks after President Buhari’s cabinet made sure to publicise their so-called efforts to reopen universities, there has been no resolution in sight. ASUU’s leadership described that order as “lip service” and it’s proven to be quite true. In any working country, figures such as Dr. Ngige and Mallam Adamu would have been relieved of their duties long ago, but Nigeria, as we all know, defies normalcy. In their bid to positively influence the decision-making of the government, in a National Executive Council (NEC) meeting on Monday, the first of August, ASUU announced it was extending the ongoing strike by four weeks. As the strike action continues to worsen and extend, it is pertinent we continue to call out the Nigerian government for its failure to establish a reliable and academically sound tertiary education system.
Featured image credits/NATIVE
NATIVE PREMIERE: Rigo Kamp Runs Ahead Of The Pack With The Visuals For “Marathon”
Rigo Kamp’s Marathon video is an intimate Afro-juju revival that pays homage to Sir Shina Peters and stamps...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and refreshing sound released his self-titled debut EP, delivering a propulsive fusion of Alte, R&B, Funk, and Soul-infused rhythms.
Featuring previously released singles “Morning Sun” and “Summer”, the six-track eponymous EP executively produced by Odunsi The Engine sees Rigo lean heavily into his element as a sonic alchemist, jumping from silky falsettos to gritty grooves without losing an ounce of cohesion, and ultimately stamping the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer-songwriter as a mad scientist of sound.
Just last November, Apple Music named Rigo Kamp as its Up Next artist, an acknowledgment that underscored his potential and confirmed what the tastemakers and underground scene already knew. Weeks later, he delivered an exhilarating live set for Spotify Fresh Finds in Lagos, proving he’s just as compelling live as he is in the studio.
On “Marathon”, the refreshing opener to the Rigo Kamp EP, Rigo borrows the bounce and swagger of Afro-Juju legend, Sir Shina Peters’ golden-era, fusing nostalgia with re-imagination to birth a vintage performance that feels like a private party for two, where it’s just Rigo, and you.
Get an exclusive first look at the video for Marathon here:
Listen to the Rigo Kamp EP:
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Togo YEYE & VLISCO’s new collaboration is a celebration of Lomé’s thriving creative scene
Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based photographer Delali Ayivi, is a conceptual publication that was created to empower and champion Togo’s young fashion creatives. Since its inception in 2021, Togo YEYE has released several personal projects and has also partnered with a number of brands to further its hugely imaginative aesthetic mandate. For their latest collaboration, Togo YEYE teamed up with textile printing company VLISCO to present Blossoming Beauty. Tagged as a love letter to Togo’s creative community, the campaign captures Lomé’s scenic beauty alongside VLISCO’s vibrant prints with the aim of connecting the feminine grace of nature with identity and artistry.
What does Togo YEYE mean?
Malaika Nabilatou: My name is Malaika Nabilatou, I’m the creative director of Togo YEYE. I’m Togolese and I was born and grew up in Lomé. I see myself as a West African creative director and I’m working to be the best in a few years. Togo YEYE means new Togo in Ewe, one of the most popular languages spoken in the South of Togo.
What inspired you to create Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: We started this project, my friend Delali and I, 5 years ago. We just wanted to show that Togolese youth are also creative. Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by us. It wasn’t just a project for Delali and I. It’s become something for the creative scene of Lomé. Lomé is like our studio.
What role does Togolese culture play in your creative process?
Maryline Bolognima: For me, Togolese culture comes first. For example, in the South, there are the people of Anero. If you come, you can go to Anero. In the North, there are the Evals, so if you come to Togo, you’ll learn a lot.
What’s the most exciting part of working as a team on projects like this?
Malaika Nabilatou: I need to tell the truth, we dreamt about this campaign before [it happened]. When VLISCO contacted us, we were like wow. I can’t really explain how thankful we are to VLISCO for trusting us. Because it’s a risk that they took by trusting us, making that campaign here with our team and honestly we are going to keep it in our hearts for the rest of our lives.
Claudia Sodogbe: For me, it is the first big contract of my life that I had with Togo YEYE. I still remember, on the last day of the shoot, I was feeling nostalgic about separating from the teams and the others. It went well in any case, and I’m very grateful to have been on this project.
What has been your proudest moment as part of Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: I think the proudest moment I had with this campaign was when I saw the result first on the website. When I saw the story, I was like “wow, we finally made it.”
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Inside The Parties Breathing New Life Into Lagos’ Nightlife Scene
No matter who you, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It takes a second to identify Grammy nominee, Rema’s “Ozeba,” pouring out of the speakers and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as it takes on new life as a turbulent EDM track. The crowd growls and screams in approval of the DJ’s remix, yet another banger in a night filled with back-to-back hits. Hands in the air, sweat dripping from glistening bodies, smoke floating around the dancefloor and young people gyrating with reckless abandon, Element House provides the people with the release they deserve and they reward it with an undying loyalty to its rhythm and raves as they keep coming back.
Party culture has taken on new dimensions in Nigeria over the last two decades as a reaction to economic, social and cultural progressions. This evolution of the way we party is significant considering that Nigeria is a society that lays heavy emphasis on certain accepted standards of moral behavior, rooted in culture and tradition. But that has never once stopped a good time from happening. Millennials and older gen-z will remember the street parties and carnivals of old, usually held at the end of summer holidays or in December, where music by TuFace, Mo’Hits, Akon, Shakira, Lady Gaga and 50 Cent were the staple, among others. There were certain songs automatically expected from any DJ worth his salt otherwise it was not too far-fetched to see a DJ, with his equipment on his head, fleeing for his safety while being chased by an irate mob of partygoers.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. These carnivals and street parties might have been phased out but the idea remains the same while the power and influence of communities powering party culture in Lagos and Nigeria at large has only gotten stronger, especially with the advent of social media. The Block Party series–started in Lagos, Nigeria as the Mainland Block Party–has become the go-to event to celebrate youth culture and foster connections that cut across multiple African cities and walks of life. Today, with curated events in Ibadan, Abuja, Lagos, Accra and others, a community of partygoers is assured maximum enjoyment whenever the Block Party organisers announce an event in their city of the month. The people will always return to where their tastes are catered to, bringing along friends, family and newbies eager to bask in the atmosphere of loud music and togetherness.
In 2012, Warner Bros. Pictures released Project X–a film that follows three friends and high-school students who attempt to gain popularity by throwing a party which ends up escalating out of their control and reaching epic proportions. This idea propagated by Hollywood would go on to influence several house parties thrown in Lagos during the mid to late 2010s. The idea that with the right DJ/music playing at the right venue and with just the right crowd, then immortality was possible–a party so grand that it would be spoken about in glowing terms for years to come until it became lore. Today, house parties are more intimate and controlled, the degrees of separation between attendees reduced by a mutual friend or WhatsApp group they all have in common. From game nights to karaoke sessions to kinky sex parties, whether it’s at Balloons & Cups, a Vogue Boys pool party, or a get-together by the ‘Lagos on a Budget’ IG Community, the role house parties play in the ever evolving party culture is not insignificant, creating a pipeline that feeds into the much larger raves which weekends in Lagos are becoming synonymous with.
Whether it’s Element House today, Mainland House tomorrow, Group Therapy next weekend, WIRED or a host of other house and EDM inspired movements, partygoers are spoiled for choice when it comes to where to indulge their fundamental music tastes in a secure and controlled environment. Nothing is off the menu and a good time is the only badge of honor worth collecting. The increasing popularity of the rave movement in recent years is testament to the fact that it works for both organizers and attendees. The Covid-19 lockdowns changed the way Nigerians party; after months of being isolated from their communities and having to socialize in more intimate and private spaces, it’s no surprise that raves, with their underground nature, became the outlet of choice for several young people as soon as the world opened back up. According to Tonia, a medical doctor and frequent raver living in Lagos, her first few times at parties following the end of the lockdowns were not fun. “I was partying with caution, wearing face masks constantly and carrying hand sanitizer around. It became a much better experience subsequently when everything relaxed and soon enough, I was back enjoying the time of my life at Lagos parties.”
Unburdened from the heavy spending, bottle-popping culture that characterizes Lagos nightlife and cloaked in the embrace of judgment-free anonymity and numbers, raves have become a safe haven for a community of partygoers determined to turn up in the midst of the sheer craziness of living in this day and age. For Michael-Peace, a brand & creative assistant and frequent raver, the appeal goes beyond a need to unwind and the feelings of peace he experiences at raves. “Whether I’m listening to the DJ or just watching the crowd move to the music, it’s a very mindful experience for me,” he says.“I’m grateful to just be there and appreciative of how we can all be one community or family for that period of time.”
The appeal of the rave scene is its inclusivity and it’s a common theme for the new wave of parties exploding in Lagos and environs. No matter who you are or what you stand for, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or discrimination resulting from socio-economic and political differences, misogyny and other less elegant occurrences which are part of mainstream Nigerian nightlife. This is important to Tonia who, on multiple occasions, has been prevented by bouncers from entering clubs without a male companion. “I’ll always prefer raves, they are much freer and nobody is performing here. There’s no need to show off the number of bottles you bought like there is in a club. Everyone just wants to turn the fuck up and have the time of their lives.”
For five or six hours, the disco lights, turbulent music and fellow ravers provide solace from the outside world. “Dancing the night away” is not merely a suggestion but a divine mandate from the gods of the rave. It is almost impossible to emerge after such an experience and not want to do it again. The music beckons all and sundry to come out, purge yourself of all inhibitions on the dancefloor, then return home and spread the gospel of the electronic music scene to all who might listen. In Michael-Peace’s own words: “There are people I’ve put onto raves and who loved the experience and constantly thank me for introducing them to it. Once you get hooked on it, you’ll never want to let go.”
Party culture in Nigeria continues to evolve as the new wave of parties mark their time and place in history. But the street parties and carnivals of yesteryears are not to be forgotten. The power of community continues to connect the old wave with the new wave, ensuring that actual people remain the focal point of these events, and party goers can enjoy nightlife experiences uniquely tailored to their ever changing wants and needs.
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