Levies and Lies: A Scandal of Exploitation at Yakubu Gowon University

The creation of new faculties at Yakubu Gowon University—Environmental Sciences, Communications, Pharmacy, and Nursing—was a commendable response to the evolving demands of the workforce and society at large. These faculties promised to equip students with the skills to meet pressing needs, from environmental stewardship to healthcare innovation. Yet, what should have been a beacon of progress has morphed into a theater of opportunism, with students left to fend for themselves in a system that has abandoned its duty of care.

According to the university’s own handbook and the laws ratified by its Senate, every faculty is entitled to a student association—duly elected, registered with the Students Affairs Directorate, and tasked with safeguarding the welfare of its members. These associations, like the Faculty of Science Students Association (FOSSA), the Law Students Association of Nigeria (LAWSAN), or the National Association of Faculty of Arts Students (NAFAS), are the lifeblood of student advocacy. They collect modest sessional dues—capped at N1,000 unless approved otherwise by the Dean of Students Affairs—to fund infrastructure, social amenities, and activities that ease the burdens of academic life. This is not a suggestion; it is a mandate, etched into the legal framework of the university, designed to empower students and ensure accountability.

But in the Faculty of Environmental Sciences, this sacred covenant has been trampled underfoot. The faculty officer, entrusted with stewardship, has instead orchestrated a scheme so audacious it defies comprehension. Rather than facilitating the creation of a legitimate student association, this officer has imposed an illegal sessional levy of N4,500—more than four times the legal limit—without registering any association with the Students Affairs Directorate. This is not mere oversight; it is a calculated violation of the university’s laws, a flagrant power grab that mocks the principles of governance.

Worse still, the officer has weaponized the students’ academic futures, decreeing that failure to pay this exorbitant fee bars them from writing exams—a coercive tactic that flies in the face of the explicit directives from both the Dean of Students Affairs and the Students’ Union Government (SUG) president. The message is clear: comply or be crushed. To execute this plunder, the faculty officer has enlisted class representatives as unwitting—or perhaps complicit—stooges, directing them to funnel the funds into a shadowy personal account rather than the mandated association account at Yakubu Gowon Microfinance Bank or any other recognized institution. This alone is a red flag, a glaring breach of transparency that screams misuse.

And the indignities do not end there. Students, already bled dry by the N4,500 levy, are further compelled to pay for toilet upkeep—a laughable demand given that the university already employs workers for this purpose, and the facilities remain filthy despite the extorted funds. Where, then, does the money go? The students, cowed into silence by threats and fear, dare not ask. They are left to wonder, as I do, what tangible benefit has come from their sacrifice. The Faculty of Environmental Sciences lacks even the basic chairs for students to rest after lectures, a stark contrast to the communal spaces enjoyed by their peers in other faculties. Social activities and extracurricular opportunities, the lifeblood of a vibrant student experience, are nonexistent—stifled by a system that hoards their resources for undisclosed ends.

This is not just corruption; it is a betrayal of the most vulnerable by those who should know better. The faculty officer, cloaked in authority, has turned mentors into predators and students into pawns. The class representatives, whether coerced or corrupted, have become tools in a machinery of exploitation. And the silence of the SUG—where is their voice in this outrage?—is deafening. Are they complicit, impotent, or simply indifferent to the cries of their constituents?

As a student leader who has spent years peeling back the layers of systemic rot, I am pained—no, enraged—by this travesty. These students are not mere statistics; they are our future, their dreams a fragile currency too often squandered by those in power. I call upon the Head of the Safety Unit and the Dean of Students Affairs to intervene with urgency. Investigate this illicit levy, trace the funds, and hold the perpetrators accountable. The students of Yakubu Gowon University deserve more than despair; they deserve justice, transparency, and a leadership that honors its duty rather than exploits it.

This is not just a story of one faculty’s fall from grace—it is a clarion call to root out the rot that festers in our institutions. For if we cannot protect our students from those meant to guide them, what hope remains for the society they will one day inherit?