The Non-existent Commonwealth Scholarship

It was my very first solo trip to Abuja- the nation’s capital city. As part of a class, I had travelled through the city two years earlier on a geological field trip to the Northern parts of the country.

Abuja, the seat of power, is beautiful. Well planned. Reflects class and excellence. It seats HQs of many public and private institutions and organizations. Abuja’s air feels different than the breeds you have in other Nigerian major cities. You would be tempted to believe that the look, infrastructures and the aesthetic settings commensurate with the huge amount of tax payers’ investment in the city.

I spent part of my NYSC service year preparing for the expected real life challenges. I learnt computer programming language. I wrote a couple of exams. I applied for jobs. More importantly, I put in applications for schools - both within and outside the shores of the land. I did most of what a typical Nigerian young and self-motivated graduate would do. By the way, none of these things is optional for someone with my background in a country where a fight for survival in all and everything cannot be any fiercer.

To begin with, you are in a country with a very limited opportunity. It is a country where well over 70% (to be conservative) of the limited available opportunities is not merit-driven. In most cases- your chance is a function of who you know. And for the merit based opportunities- the competition could be notoriously ferocious. Therefore, as a graduate without any tangible ‘connection’, being fair to yourself and life aspirations entails overworking and prepping yourself for the very scanty ‘meritorious’ opportunities.

I had been offered two foreign conditional admissions for a postgraduate/grad study having satisfied the academic requirements. The provisional offers were contingent upon a proof of financial capability. Remember, this is a boy who could not even effectively fund a local undergraduate program. No one could even fund me for an Akure- Lagos trip talk less of being sent across the Atlantic for a costly grad study. Needless to say- securing a grant, fellowship or scholarship simply became so imperative for an aspiration that must be met.

I applied for a few. I had different and diverse experiences with each one. The outcomes- both desired and otherwise were closure, reassuring or exciting for all but ONE. This particular ONE gave me a lot of insights as my very first direct encounter with government’s level of bureaucracy, inefficiency, nepotism and shameful decadence.

A friend had called my attention to an advert in a Tuesday Guardian Newspaper. Applications are being welcome from Nigerian graduates for Commonwealth Scholarships. The requirements were clearly spelt out. Like many of my friends, it was simply a match for my profile. Inspired by a chance to honor and fulfill the financial requirement for any of my foreign admission offers, I quickly put my documents together and applied.

Yes- I got invited for an interviews in the beautiful city- Abuja. I was excited for the opportunity. I raised enough cash for transportation. I studied as hard as I could. I looked forward to the day. The expectation was positively high.

In the beautiful city, set for my interview, I hopped on a cab heading to the Central business district area- the venue. The ride availed me the opportunity to see more of the city’s splendor. A lot of the edifices seen were great reminders of how long our nation has come and the need to preserve her unity. Well- this story is not about the city and I didn’t come here to count bridges and skyscrapers.

We finally made it to the venue. In a moment, I grew so cold. My enthusiasm was challenged. I was literarily confused. But why? For the first time in a beautiful city, I imagined myself being in the middle of a crowded and busy market in the realm of old Oshodi or Idumota. At the same time, I saw a semblance of kindergarten pupils being ordered around. I fought frantically to regain my lost mojo.

Without the risk of exaggeration, the entire venue was filled to the brim- by my quick and unscientific mental calculation there would be nothing less than 1,000 young Nigerian graduates vying for spots in what seemed like a national cake. As I would learn later, my own appointment date was the 3rd of five invited groups. So we are talking about 5,000 applicants!

I had no problem with the crowd. I expected such an opportunity to be competitive. No doubt.However, the whole place was so chaotic. Police officers were treating folks with disdain. And there wasn’t any established protocol or schedule for calling applicants in. It literarily became a fight for survival to even gain entrance to meet your interviewers.

Some desperate folks were seen greasing the palms of willing and demanding accomplices in Nigerian policemen. You know they don’t waste ‘opportunities’. Remember- these graduates are fresh Nigerian blood. I would think that the older generations are the only corruption infested group.

Apparently, you needed no prophet to tell you the probability of your chance of success. At that point, I began to weigh my options. Coming to Abuja wasn’t an easy trip for me to start with. But at the same time, am I ever going to be able to have an interview today? And if I do what is my chance? I can’t bribe nobody to gain entry. Never.

To cut the long story short, by whiskers, I made it in after a very long wait and permutation. It was a three man panel interview- consisting of two university dons and one representative from the Federal ministry of education. After thanking them for offering me to be seated, the Ministry rep simply asked me my State of origin and LGA. Then he yielded the stage. And one of the university dons asked if I already had an admission in which my answer was a resounding and exciting yes- telling them the details of the program and why I considered it a fit for purpose in the larger context of our economy and the potential opportunity to become a productive contributor if given the scholarship. After this, the second don just went on running comments on my previous answer- his tone sounded so corroborative and supportive, he appeared to be excited about my submission. And he actually said ‘Congratulations’ at some point. Then the ministry rep jumped in to announce that they were done with me. And I asked if I could ask a question. He obliged. I asked what I should expect next in the process - further interviews? And how do I get communicated? ‘Don’t worry we would get back to you‘. The ministry rep responded shabbily.Confused-I didn’t know what that meant and I didn’t think my question was appropriately addressed. I thanked them anyway and made my way out of the long fought entrance to an ‘epic’ interview.

I just trusted God for the rest having done my own part. Days, weeks and months after- none of about 20 applicants that I know personally was awarded.

Interestingly, four years after my interview I came to know exactly how and who such scholarships were mostly awarded to. I met a young man in the UK- very great guy who has a very privileged background and highly connected. Somehow we became friends. I got to know that he had come to the UK as a Commonwealth scholar the same year I could only had an interview in the beautiful city.I saluted him and commended his hard work for being able to secure a win in such a very competitive scholarship.My guy laughed and laughed. He said he never had any interview oo. He had no idea about that market crowd at the interview venue. As a matter of fact, na beg dem beg am to come study for here self.

In my mind, I realized life isn’t just fair in any way. This is a guy either scholarship or no scholarship-he has all it takes to study any where in the World on his parents tabs. On the other hands, see a poor boy who without a grant money- foreign degree aspiration is nothing but a dream.

My good friend- I know you might be reading this now. This is not about you. You know me and how much I admire you. You have done a lot of great and independent things for yourself and I have also witnessed how you have given helping hands to the helpless. If I were in your shoes I wouldn’t reject such an opportunity. This is about me reflecting on a country we all love so much.

However- I decided to spotlight on this experience to highlight the deceit, unfairness and nepotism in our system. Hard work and due diligence is hardly rewarded especially in the opportunities that require government’s inputs and sanctions.To me- the commonwealth scholarship was never in existence.

Anyway- I enjoyed the beautiful city. I counted as many bridges and skyscrapers as I could, but the power to conquer my coming and seeing was simply swallowed by a system that is built against the unconnected.

May Nigeria succeed.