A couple of years ago, I was privileged to serve as a judge for a debate between two prominent schools during one of their “Literary Days.” What should have been a celebration of intellect and youthful expression quickly exposed a troubling reality about the current state of education among Nigerian teenagers.
It felt like a privilege until I saw the lineup of events. The debate was the only activity that suggested this was a secondary school affair involving teenagers. From the start, the programme was torture for most adults who did not belong to that generation—those of us who believed we were there as chaperones or observers for a social, yet educational, gathering of innocent youths. It turned out these teens had quite a surprise for us.
The host was a co-educational mission school, and many top schools in Jos and the surrounding areas honoured the invitation. As usual, to guard against students misbehaving, most schools sent a teacher to act as a chaperone. However, the students disregarded our presence and did almost everything their hearts desired. As I mentioned earlier, we were subjected to quite an ordeal.
When decorum gives way to indiscipline
The host school knew that if they kicked off with the educational activities, the chaperones would insist on leaving early. To prevent this, they ensured those activities were among the last items on the agenda.
The first thing these young adults did was announce the judges for the debate. They intentionally picked teachers from the strictest schools. All of us sat in a prominent place, expecting the debate to commence immediately. Instead, they began with a game called “Pick and Act.” The students were ecstatic when it was announced, but we thought nothing of it at first.
The student who picked number one read her prompt aloud: “Pick a member of the opposite sex and dance to a song of your choice on stage.” She chose a boy from her school who was all over her as they danced. The cheers his actions provoked were overwhelming. One teacher, a self-described “born-again” Christian, almost walked out right then. We pleaded with him to stay since he was on the judging panel.
Oblivious to the uproar among the adults, the game continued. The students were clearly having the time of their lives at the expense of the observers. At one point, a pleasant-looking girl was asked to read her slip: “Pick the opposite sex and remove six things from his or her body.” She picked a boy from her school and, right there in our presence, began to follow the instructions.
By this point, the excitement in the hall was feverish. Male students cheered her on as she confidently began to remove the items. She pulled off his tie, followed by his shoes and socks. Then she took a pen from his pocket—which was briefly protested by the crowd but eventually allowed. Not knowing what to do next, she stood with her head down. But the crowd egged her on, shouting suggestions for what to remove next.
Shyly, she pulled the boy towards her and went for his shirt. The cheering was deafening. My “born-again” co-judge could not take it any longer and angrily stepped out. With shaky fingers, she unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Thankfully, he had a vest on. The boy seemed to be enjoying the attention, looking at her with eyes full of adoration.
The girl took a step back, indecisive. But the crowd would not let her be. They shouted in unison, “One last one!” until she stepped forward again. With shaky hands, she went for his trousers. The crowd went wild. Deftly, she loosened his belt and pulled it out.
The panel of judges had finally had enough. We told them, “Either the debate takes place now, or we are taking our students and leaving immediately.” It took a while to control the cheering. Regrettably, it was announced that the game was on hold. It felt like an anticlimax to the students; they were not interested in the debate. They wanted something that made their blood and imaginations run wild.
A generation losing interest in learning
We mechanically played our parts as judges for a debate that sounded like child’s play. Most students showed their disinterest by moving around and making noise. It felt as if we were from two different worlds.
To delay our departure, the host school squeezed in a dance performance before the winners were announced. It was a mixture of South African music and current hits. Again, we watched with mouths agape. The dancers twisted their waists as if they had no bones, exciting their teeming fans. It was overtly suggestive, yet it revealed how much raw talent was being misdirected.
To cut a long story short, we did our part but went home realising that a massive gap exists between us and this generation. They see school as a boring drag—the same environment we once had fun attending.
It is no wonder that examination malpractice in secondary schools has become the norm. Students can navigate the internet from morning until night but will not study for ten minutes, even for tests. There are now websites dedicated to aiding cheating during external examinations. During the last JAMB examinations, it was even rumoured that a parent helped their child cheat using artificial intelligence.
I know a young boy who was just stripped of his prefectship after a two-week suspension for cheating. This attitude is threatening the very fabric of true knowledge in Nigeria. The international community will continue to look down on our educational certificates until we turn over a new leaf.