Opinion
Lessons From BBC Sting Reportage
Way back in 2007, Idris Abdulkareem, in his musical hey days, set the charts blazing with the number; ‘Mr. Lecturer’, — the ribaldry of the scholarly mentor that turned the female student under his care into some sexual fringe benefit. Abdulkareem’s notes may have only made meaning to those acquainted with daily happenings, as it relates to female students’ ordeal in the hands of lecturers in Nigeria’s ivory towers.
As entertaining though as the lyrics and tune appeared, I could still flip back to the old English era of Geoffrey Chaucer, en route to Canterbury, in Chaucer’s Prologue to Canterbury Tales. In what looked like a distant rebuke of the upright but humble pastor at some rural parish of his days in Catholic England, the litrary guru posed a golden query:” if gold rusts, what would iron do?”
Through the electronics and print, both Idris and Chaucer just re-echoed, by way of official documentation, the untold stories of female undergraduates of tertiary academic institutions. Now, the stunning documentary of the recent ‘BBC Sting Reportage’, has stung everyone into new restlessness over the loud silence on sex-for-mark scandals in our universities and other tertiary institutions.
This commendable journalistic endeavour, effectively beams light on a hidden menace. It reaffirms the fact that the condemnable practice has been around for ages and is more wide-spread and reckless as most care to admit. Unfortunately, it is being protected by conspiratorial silence and institutional conspiracy to protect the culprits on sickly peer esprit de corps.
The height of it is that lecturers now order their victims to book and pay for hotel space for their sexual excapade or fail them if they refused.
From the days of Chaucer in his Cantebury Tales, down to the era of Idris’ musical adventures, the public had been hearing and reading the absurd details of what could best be described as an academic injustice to a folk. The BBC Africa Eye’s lens has merely established a proof that the worrying sexual harassment (or sex- for-marks) of female students by male lecturers is a thriving but damaging practice in tertiary institutions across the nation. It is surely not a pretty one!
Like every research work that needs a sample to be able to draw a conclusion on its population, the two universities so highlighted, though not a good one for the image of their institutions, merely represent the entire tertiary institutions while the concerned lecturers represent their cohorts in the trade across universities.
While the Chaucers may have raised their pens, and the Abdulkareems, their voices, against this injustice without any remarkable attention drawn to their complaints, the finished work of the BBC Africa Eye team leaves the government and the general public inexcusable, should they fail to stem the tide at this critical moment.
The truth is that it is about time to redeem the female folk from the evil claws of the male lecturers who had considered them as their fringe benefits and had preyed on them all this while. That singular but bold act of reportage, as presented by the BBC team, is a reminder to perpetrators of the said evil and the likes, in our academic institutions as a whole, that the days of ‘business as usual’ as regards sexual harassment of female students, is over.
With sexual perverts — preying on students under their care, one wonders where lies the place of the maxim of loco parentis that automatically makes every educator a parent to students under his care. It is for this reason that the Deputy Senate President, Ovie Omo-Agege, said “the unique student-educator relationship of authority, dependency and trust should never be violated”.
Sexual abuse of female tertiary students must be frontally attacked and stamped out. Universities should be centres of academic excellence, not bastions of sexual perverts.”They owe a special fiduciary duty of care to students under their authority – students who trust and depend on them to shape their future career paths. It must therefore be extremely offensive to a reasonable mind where an educator treats students as ‘perquisites’ of his office,” Orno-Agege insisted.
While the act remains a shame on our conscience as a people, the need to stop it has become imperative. Thus, the sexually harassed must see the window provided by this journalistic feat as a wake – up call to speak out in the event of future harassment. Actor Mhairi Morrison acknowledged this in his reaction to Sadie Jemmett’s album, “Don’t Silence Me”, a music video aimed to be anthem for survivors of sexual assault.
“My hope is for my four-year-old niece to grow up into a world where if something bad ever happened she would know that she has a voice and would not be afraid to use it,” Morrison said.
The writer, therefore, is of the view that Senator Ovie Omo-Agege’s call to parents and youth to support enactment of effective law against sexual harassment in work places and educational institutions is even more apt now than ever. Hence, there is no need postponing till the evening, what the morning can achieve.
Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
