It’s July 2026 at the University of Ibadan—the midpoint of the year and the closing stretch of the first semester of the 2025/2026 academic session. Exam season is in full swing, and students are being showered with suspiciously well-timed ‘good luck’ messages. Some aren’t just getting wishes; they’re getting free rides to the DLC exam centres—though those rides come with plenty of strings attached. Around campus, faceless teaser posters with catchy slogans hint at grand agendas. No one’s officially campaigning yet, but you don’t need a calendar to know it: election season is quietly creeping in.
The times will soon become auspicious for us to diligently cast our votes, and as such, it is very pertinent that we look back in retrospect.
The familiar narrative amongst most students is that election season signals another opportunity for the most popular students on campus to contest for offices as another badge to wear, not as a duty to serve. A number of students strongly believe that political aspirations are driven by selfish interests and the desire to make LinkedIn profiles more attractive. Consequently, a strong sense of apathy has developed, and it only appears to increase with each election season. Interest in campus politics continues to wane, and the number of students declaring their intent to run for offices across halls of residence, departments, faculties, and even the Students’ Union has grown alarmingly small. In some associations, only one candidate contests for the apex position—it’s that bad.
In ‘Banality of Evil,’ Hannah Arendt’s analysis of totalitarianism, the writer argued that the greatest atrocities are not always committed by fanatic monsters, but by ordinary, unthinking bureaucrats. She warned against the danger of the apathetic—citizens who simply refuse to think critically, judge situations, or engage, thereby normalizing systemic corruption and bad governance.
This concept of banality is one that many UItes fail to understand. The trajectory of an election season can be entirely fueled by apathy, and it doesn’tend there. Fewer people declare their intent to run for leadership positions, and just as few show genuine interest in political campaigns across campus. This makes it easy for mediocrity to become the order of the day. It all comes down to who’s the most ‘relevant’—the loudest name, the catchiest slogan, the biggest poster, the longest résumé, the most posts held. Never mind that no one has actually evaluated their performance in any of those roles. The real purpose of campaigning gets lost simply because most people don’t care enough to look closer.
And then to the issue of endorsements of candidates running for the Students’ Union, the apex student body in UI. Every election season, halls and departments declare their support for one of their own, understandably so. After all, one of the hallmarks of a good community is supporting your members in critical times. However, according to many student leaders in departments and halls of residence today, endorsing a candidate means assisting during campaigns, ensuring popularity among hallmates and coursemates, and, most importantly, making sure other members of their halls or departments—eager to avoid being labeled traitors—vote for the endorsed candidate by all means. This is precisely where the flaw lies. Little to no effort goes into organising open meetings where their candidate can present their manifestos to the scrutinizing ears of hall mates and departmental mates, where the real problems of students are aired out and where students can truly decide their support having been convinced of the candidate’s competence, of course, rather than apathetically voting for their hall mate or departmental mate.
Apathy can only be overcome by participation. This is a call to action directed at UItes; full participation in UI politics at all levels is of the essence. This is the only pen capable of rewriting the script.
It is worth noting that apathy doesn’t just cost us engaged voters but also potential leaders. Some of the most capable people on campus never step up, simply because apathy gets there first. With apathy out of the picture, the UI political space will be far more vibrant, with more students declaring their intent to run for office. This would give the electorate a wider range of choices, fostering healthy competition that could unlock creativity among aspirants. The more the merrier, after all. This aligns with John Stuart Mill’s concept of the “marketplace of ideas,” which suggests that truth and the best ideas emerge through open competition and free exchange, not from a narrow field. From this we could witness the dawn of variety, with manifestoes that contain innovative ideas like pushing for reforms in the UI transport sector to establish a central bus stop at the SUB junction for better accessibility and extended working hours for transport workers, reforms in the sports sector which is currently nothing to write home about, and a practical roadmap for policy changes that truly benefit students—most notably, revisiting the prohibition of camp gas use in UI hostels. Such diversity will conveniently erase the manifesto singularity we’ve been enduring.
But solving apathy doesn’t stop at better leadership, it also means a better electorate. One capable of asking tougher questions, demanding real accountability, and refusing to settle. An electorate that shows up for press nights to see how candidates perform, to truly understand the manifestos of each candidate and stay informed on the capabilities of aspirants will ultimately vote for the most competent candidate, rather than just relying on popularity, flawed endorsements, or even the press night scores themselves!
The script doesn’t just stop at elections, but it progresses in the aftermath of election season, where it is more necessary. With an informed and engaging electorate, accountability stops being a wish and becomes a demand at all levels within the UI student governance space. Students will seek to understand the dos and don’ts of their leaders and won’t hesitate to call them out when they cross the line. They will also come to fully understand the power they wield through their representatives in the Students’ Representative Council at the highest level.
Issues of concern such as the persistent under-representation of students at the highest level by the Students Union—most evident when cases involve the school management—continue to raise questions. The neglect of the UI3 by successive administrations comes to mind, with the most recent example being the Students’ Union’s failure to acknowledge the court judgment that directed the UI3’s reinstatement. It is disheartening that in this particular situation, where the resolve of the Students’ Union was tested, they failed miserably, and the electorate that brought them into power remained notably silent. One might argue that this is because the case does not directly involve the representation of the current bona fide student community by UI standards. Yet, a similar pattern was noticed during the recent protests in UI following the NASU strike that deprived students of basic amenities like light and water while classes continued with the resources that would facilitate them being withheld. It was yet another test for the Union, but the Union only came in at the “right” safe moment to douse tensions, of course. It seemed as though our leaders were playing it safe, and we, the electorate, merely followed suit.
Dear intellectual UItes, to achieve true representation of our rights by the union we brought into power, we, the electorate, have to put our foot down and be actively involved. We have to decide whether we want to endure the usual script or it’s about time we rewrote it.
Hawau Oladele