PhD

By Aisha Musa Auyo 

Today, as a wife and mother, my definition of success is being an excellent homemaker that nourishes and nurtures my family in the best way possible. I want my topmost contribution to the world to be a set of individuals who are peaceful, loving, respectful, intelligent, honest and hardworking people. I want to be more successful as a homemaker than in school. I want to be always there for my family, not relying on others to discharge my primary responsibilities. Today, this is my priority!

In the world of academia, nothing counts better than degrees and working in the university. I was born and brought up in that world. My parents are academics, and their dream for us is to have as many degrees as possible and as early as possible. We know nothing but books. And lucky enough, the books love us.

I finish secondary school at 16 and my bachelor’s degree at 20. I wanted to be a doctor like every brilliant student, but life had it; I had a chronic ulcer in my teenage age. Thus, I was always in and out of the hospital. That ailment made my dad change his mind about letting me study medicine. He said he couldn’t stand seeing my dream and hard work being crushed by (University) Senate committees because I was sick and couldn’t write or pass medical school examinations. “I’m in the committee for years, and I know these things”, he told me.

That’s how I was advised to study education. It was not what I wanted, so I wrote exams to pass, not to fail. I graduated with a 3.46 CGPA, below almost everyone’s expectations. I’m always known for acing my exams. The least they expected from me was 2:1. I learned not to do what I didn’t want from that result, never again. It’s either “A” or nothing. 

I have a passion for cooking, and it’s known to everyone around me. So, after graduation, my mom enrolled me in a catering and hospitality management program –to ‘kill’ time before the mandatory National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) scheme. I gave that program my all and finished with an excellent result.

I got married a few days after my catering program. The plan was to live in our state, but my husband was transferred to another state two weeks after marriage. So, NYSC came, and I was posted to my home state as planned. However, I was alone, and my husband had to travel to and fro every week to his place of work and his new bride. It wasn’t easy on us, and we decided to stay together after service.

But before finishing my service, my parents advised me to register for a master’s degree. So, I started lectures a few days after my POP. Unfortunately, this delayed our decision to stay together with my husband, as we are constantly travelling to meet each other whenever we have a break in school and work, respectively. Fortunately, the master’s coursework is an 8-month program. So, I left the state immediately to settle with my husband, coming to school every month to see my supervisor. But this time around, I decided to study what I wanted.

I had to convince them that I couldn’t give it my all if it were something I didn’t like. Let’s negotiate; you want master’s, huh? Let it be something I like so that I’ll bring you the “As” you always want, I said to them. My parents wanted me to major in Biology, but I wanted Psychology, as it’s the only thing that caught my interest in education. It’s the only thing close to my medical career dream. Thus, I studied it with passion and graduated with First Class honours!

At 22, I was the youngest and the only one without a job in our class. The result proves to me passion breeds excellence. Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad, Poor Dad, and Angela Duckworth’s Grit taught and encouraged me to make employment out of what I love. They taught me how working on one’s passion can bring money effortlessly. I learned and practised making money out of what I love – cooking. Catering allows me to work in the comfort of my home, regardless of the location. People must eat anywhere, and many of them appreciate good food. Nonetheless, this passion of mine generates controversies.

Since I was young, those who have known me always thought this girl’s future was in academia. She’s a bookworm, brilliant, etc. So, they’re disappointed; such a waste of intelligence! Some bold ones even ask why I don’t work. Won’t your husband let you work? Why are you furthering your education since he will not let you work? Why continue wasting time, energy and resources on school if you don’t want to work? This and that.

Back to my academic life, I continued travelling from where I stayed to where I schooled, and vice-versa for my thesis until another transfer came – too far away location now. At that time, I was almost done with my master’s thesis as I was waiting for external defence. I had to wait for good eight months before I was called. Travelling from the new location to the university was far and stressful, as one had to travel by air.  So, there’s additional strain on travelling and financing. I had two kids then, and I travelled with them whenever school called.

We went for the viva, which was so relieving. At least now we can rest, I thought. A few weeks later, my parents advised me to register for a PhD. I tried to convince them that the distance was too much, promising them that I’d do that whenever I settled in one place, not now that I’m on the move. I also told them PhD was for those with a career in academia and that I was not working yet.

Moreover, a PhD is expensive, and I have never seen a self-sponsored unemployed candidate doing that. I even argued that at 26, I was too young for a PhD. But no, they would not hear me. I didn’t want to hurt them or make them think that I put my husband before them; I applied. They were delighted.

I went for the aptitude test, and my score was high. I was ranked the second-best; my admission number is 00001—the first to be given admission that year. But deep down, my husband and I were not comfortable with the decision. We thought it was too early to be living apart as our marriage was still young, less than ten years. Within me, I have this fear of what would happen to my marriage? Should I leave my husband and come to pursue worldly degrees? It’s not like he failed in any of his responsibilities. He is, in fact, the one sponsoring the PhD.

Being in the barracks has opened up my eyes to the realities of life. Sadly, gentlemen turned to womanisers due to a lack of family around. I have seen how northern Muslim men change or are lured and tempted by the evils of the world. I have seen many scary things that I had never thought could exist or happen. Even though living alone should not be an excuse for their behaviour, their bad behaviour couldn’t have escalated to that level. I vowed never to leave my man at the mercies of those home breakers, so I planned to go back immediately after coursework.

Aisha Musa Auyo is the CEO of Auyo’s Cuisine and wrote from Abuja. She can be contacted via aishamuauyo@gmail.com.

By A. A. Bukar

Let me preface this with the caveat and confession that part of the reason I recently slow down hobnobbing with professors is my increasing abhorrence of this culture of excessive bootlicking and kowtowing that is creeping into academia and eroding the ideals of independent thought, spirit of free inquiry and detachment that hitherto characterise intellectual discourse. The radical critique of issues and events for the betterment of humanity and irradiating the society is slowly taking a wing, supplanted with overt politicisation of minor issues (and even non-issues). Today, young academics, like myself, are becoming increasingly afraid to express even simple admiration of who they consider as the IDEAL TYPE among their teachers and mentors in academia because of “interpretations”. For this, you can even be reported to the enemy of such a scholar to possibly victimise you “sabida ai yaron wane ne! Ku kyale shi, ai zai zo defence, ai za’ a kawo papers dinsa for assessment”. And on and on. Such pettiness and vendetta. Hence, many – out there – see  Nigerian academics as the worst enemies of themselves and are happy with how FG is dealing with them.

Little wonder whether this culture is obtainable in other parts of the world. Departments are compartmentalised into cliques and camps a la political parties in the larger society. Professors are becoming like emirs fortified by sycophants, making them unnecessarily snobbish and covetous of flattery. PhDs are deliberately delayed or tactically killed because a candidate does not BELONG. A blind eye is turned to obvious wrongs, mediocrity, and crass injustice because “our oga” is INVOLVED. Entitlements and privileges (especially of the younger ones) are stampeded to settle SCORES.

A friend sent me a Jumaat goodwill message, a quotation from Rumi which reads: “Listen to silence; it has so much to say”. How many PhD/MSc candidates do you know writhing in silent pain of frustration? Prof sirs and mas: listen to our silences and that shy smile that says “ba komai sir”. When I was an undergrad, I once overheard my teacher, Dr Gausu, talking about one of his colleagues in Economics, Business or Accounting (I can’t remember exactly) who’d become agoraphobic and almost schizophrenic because of PhD manhandling from a senior colleague. Of course, then I was too inexperienced to understand the heck that was about. They sarcastically even refer to the initials as “Pull Him Down”.

Whether this augurs well for generation, production and dissemination of ideas and knowledge typical of the Ivory Tower, I leave it to your imagination.

For these and more, many ideal intellectuals are on the lookout for escape windows from the suffocating atmosphere of poverty and frustrations taking over academia like a thick cloud on the horizon. Many are “diversifying”, hence diverting their attention from the absolute commitment ideal scholarship demands. Others are increasingly becoming nonchalant – that I-don’t-care attitude of: “if the department or unit fuels the generator set, fine, otherwise I teach the SPSS or Word Processing on the whiteboard”. Elsewhere blackboard. So Nigerian hospitals are not alone; medical practitioners are just a cohort.

Despite all odds, I love being at the University. It is a place where I feel I naturally belong. And our campuses are still dotted with the IDEAL TYPE (just as there are IDLE TYPES who do not “profess” any knowledge) that constantly bring back to one’s memory my favourite: Edward Said. Critically engaging. Highly unassuming – like Mazrui. Passionate about nourishing the mind; concerned with the public good and Humanity as a whole. People who will unconsciously make you feel you are far from arriving without making you feel embarrassed. I have recently met and enormously admire one such intellectual is Professor Abubakar Mu’azu of the Mass Communication department, UNIMAID.

Interpret this one too the way you like. Report me anywhere. Land me into trouble. I no longer care. But Allah knows whether this is coming from the bottom of my heart or elsewhere. Such as an attempt to curry favour.

After all, what use is admiring people if you cannot tell them or others you do? Or should we hold on till they are no more? Wouldn’t that serve as a token of encouragement to maintain the course and tempo against all odds?

I have earmarked a few other similar intellectuals I will write about in due course on this space. I will unburden my heart about people I feel positively towards. Yes, I will specify those who fit my definition of the ideal intellectual. Part of this is, of course, honesty. Wallahi, no matter how engaging you are, you are out of the equation once it comes to the light you are dubious and too self-centred. If you’re extorting money or sex from your vulnerable students, you cannot be my model. But again, I am not looking out for an angel.

Back to the subject, I have met with Prof Muazu only a few times. One was when he came as an external examiner to my thesis in April 2018 and some months earlier as an accreditation team member for the college I taught in Yobe state. The last, some weeks back. Each, he left me with nothing but admiration and deep respect.

When I phoned my referee and supervisor at undergrad, late Prof Maikaba, to congratulate him on his last promotion, he typically enquired about the progress of my thesis. I told him then, “I was done with viva yesterday and effecting corrections now”. Curiously, he returned with a finder about the examiner. When I replied that it was Mu’azu, he said: “kace an sha aiki”. Toh Bukar. PhD beckons. You can’t wait, especially for one in this business. He admonished me as usual; I giggled, thanked and said my goodbye.

I don’t know whether it’s appropriate to reveal this too. Some hours before the viva voce, my supervisor, Dr Binta Kasim Mohammed, called alerting me “to prepare very well. Because the external examiner brought is extremely thorough and critical”. Sir, you are appreciated and held in high esteem not only by nonentities like us but also by your colleagues. But my assessment of you from afar is that: these things matter little to you (if at all) – out of humility.

From both you and the late Maikaba, I graduated with distinction. But each time we met, you left me feeling inadequate, making me wonder ‘when will I arrive?’. Parts of this are the books you recommend, which I never read, or know not exist. But somewhere in WHERE I STAND, Sheikh Gumi has opined along this line that knowledge is such enigmatic that the more you learn, the more you realise that you know very little. I wonder whether you feel something similar sometimes. Yes, despite the accomplishments. In just your last visit, you recommended, as the situation warranted, many texts. Among these are Peter Winch’s THE IDEA OF A SOCIAL SCIENCE AND ITS RELATION WITH PHILOSOPHY. Then the POSITIVIST DISPUTE IN GERMAN SOCIOLOGY. The latter is such a rare collection – in fact, my first time to meet Adorno, Habermas and Karl Popper in one place. Both books remind me of similar stuff I read from the staple of Claude Ake and Yusuf Bala Usman of blessed memory.

In this vein of characteristic modesty, you specifically asked me to read Ben Bagdikian’s MEDIA MONOPOLY after the viva voce in order to steel my argument on the influence of profit drive in media content production. A copy of my thesis still carries your adorable handwriting suggesting the title and other points. But little wonder you never drew my attention to the fact that you have written extensively on media in peacebuilding until my curiosity took me to the internet and a bookshop where I stumbled CONFLICT MANAGEMENT AND THE MEDIA IN NIGERIA  – a book coedited by you and Gani Yoroms. This was despite your awareness that my thesis is squarely about this matter of controversy. Quite recessive indeed.

With the crisis engulfing Nigerian Universities (the worst I have ever seen) and academics running helter-skelter for greener pasture, I equally wonder what becomes of the academia after the few of you that remain out of passion pass on to something else or the inevitable great beyond. And especially if this maddening ill-treatment continues from the federal government. Allah Ya kiyaye, amin.

Bukar teaches Mass Communication & Journalism at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.