It was difficult to bear expectations in mind going straight from my second MB;BS Examinations to the National University Games. I mean, sure, I had somehow managed to continue training at and following chess even in the buildup to my exams, a marker of my somewhat nonchalant approach to my education these days, but this can only take me so far. Sure enough, the hurricane of nerves and anxiety that is professional exams in the College of Medicine would soon leave little room for manoeuvrability, and I would come out of my final oral exams a tired wreck, scrambling to wash tracksuits and bedding, and stuff my bags for Jos.
But still, this was it, the moment. It had been a long time coming, but despite several delays and setbacks, NUGA ‘25, originally billed for 2024, was here, just at the close of the year, so far away from when was originally envisioned. Yet, while in transit, only just thundering past Iwo Road on Friday, 7th of November, storm clouds were already gathering ahead of us in Jos, Plateau State. Complaints on social media referenced the only partially completed track, and half-built sports complexes. The track indeed will only be laid fully at the very last minute, just in time for the opening ceremony on the 8th, and athletes will compete in a complex with incomplete stands. Notably, with swimming facilities yet unavailable in the University of Jos, the swimming centrepiece will hold some 267.5km away at the Moshood Abiola National Stadium, Abuja, putting additional strain on athletes shuttling in between the two states first for the opening ceremony then to compete in their events.
This was shocking, given that the event had already been postponed at various junctures since April 2024 to ensure the readiness of the host University, for UJ to still be caught with their pants down like this. And still, the protests of the Dental students of UniJos would overshadow the early goings. The University of Jos Dental Program has floundered without accreditation for ten years, and now, with many in limbo, the students have heightened calls for the University to ensure full accreditation of the program and allow them proceed with their careers. It is endemic of Nigerian medical and dental education, with dental students of next year’s NUGA hosts, University of Calabar, facing an identical problem. From Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma, to the University of Ilorin, Nigerian Universities have made it a habit to admit medical/ dental students to programs incapable of graduating the whole cohort, often relying on arbitrary ‘weeding’ of students at various junctures, and in the case of UnIlorin, inducting only a part of a class at once, and leaving the rest to postpone their parties until the next opportunity with the resit students. It is a cruel, cynical system that predictably produces medical graduates only too eager to get away from this dysfunctional country.
To add to these crises, Donald Trump’s recent comments on national security, and more specifically, the humanitarian crisis in Northern Nigeria—and supposed Christian Genocide, have brought a renewed focus on the security situation up North. A number of Universities opted against the trip because of the distance and safety concerns. And of those in attendance, many parents baulked at the idea of their wards travelling up North to Jos to compete in sports, mine included. One must understand the concerns of a generation that saw the 2001, 2008 and 2010 Jos riots, as well as the Yelwa massacre in 2004, with thousands killed in these incidents. The middle belt, and the Plateau specifically, is Nigeria’s friable midgut. At so many instances, violence with religious and political undertones has set Jos ablaze, killing and displacing scores of indigenes and settlers alike. It is indeed a dangerous place to be just after an American leader spotlighted the violence the region is known for. Many students like me were cautioned against travelling to Jos privately, but with youth, the now is most important. And for me and others, the allure of this National Festival was just too great, so to Jos we went.
I’ve always been obsessed with road trips. Day-long sojourns from Port-Harcourt to Abuja on ABC Coaches, on the way to boarding school with my mother in tow remain some of my favourite childhood memories. I would jostle for the window seat and take in the cattle and changing landscapes as we made our way up North, pointing giddily as we crossed the Niger. We would stop in Lokoja to eat fast food and score some roasted plantain, while gritty photographers hustled to take our pictures and just as quickly, sell them to us. This was a special experience for me, to in some capacity, experience the tapestry of culture and landscapes that is Nigeria, to be shut off from the static world as it were on my nomadic travails, to see mud houses I had only seen before in Social Studies textbooks, rock formations that left me breathless, bizarre Nigerian idiosyncrasies like men carrying dead cattle atop motorbikes and kids fighting at river banks. It was a feeling that could never be replicated on dour flights. I would tire quickly of the clouds, and distant city lights that informed the passengers that the boring trip with her boring snacks was finally over, so much so that I would beg my parents to let me take the bus instead. It is a pity that as the years went by, rising insecurity would make road travel increasingly perilous in Nigeria, leading to greater hesitancy on their part. However, today, as an adult, I still always try to enjoy this childlike pastime whenever I’m able to, hoping all the same that I do not become another statistic, another set of phone numbers and condolences.
Still, I am of the strong opinion that Nigerians must travel more. Beyond the road trips alone, I grew up in Port Harcourt, went to secondary school in Abuja, and am currently studying at the University of Ibadan. At the same time, I have visited Edo and Abia States, the ancestral lands of my parents, and my chess travels have taken me to Ife, Lagos, and now, Jos. It is a strong dream of mine to experience more of Nigeria, through chess and my career in medicine, and it is especially disheartening knowing that many colleagues of mine are less travelled, and consequentially, less exposed to this country’s beauty in diversity. For all its faults, I believe the National Youth Service Corps is an important scheme for National Unity, and was built on principled ideals. It is an opportunity every young graduate must grasp with both hands, for to know more of Nigeria is to understand it, and in doing so, combat this rampant division that continues to plague us. Many national issues today are still linked to the ills of old—tribalism and religious intolerance. Young people harp on about these being issues associated with previous generations, but in reality, we still carry these biases. Nigeria, as this geographical entity, for better or worse, is here to stay, and we must learn more about each other in order to begin to institute the sort of change that will define us as a people united towards a common goal—progress.
Well, all that is to say, the trip was fun. Mad fun, as Fr Jo-Stanis Okoye, my High School principal would harp about. We would trundle along all the way to Abuja on the first day, through a Niger state that seemed to stretch on endlessly, and somehow, with all the chess players on one bus, we managed to craft quite the unique experience. Rather than simply sing along to pop songs or do something more normal, we took it upon ourselves to nerd out fully, ‘percussing’ each other and arguing on first pathology, pharmacology and surgery, then later, oral medicine, biochemistry, and the natural sciences. The peak of boredom would come hours later after running out of questions, now asking each other botanical names of roadside fruits or the clinical importance of the neem tree we saw right after. The Nigerian peculiarities along the way also provided much to mull about in the silences that interspersed. On the road in Fiditi, Oyo State, old dilapidated houses will make up most of the scenery on either side—mud houses even. But notably, the biggest and most beautiful buildings were the places of worship. We passed first an RCCG Parish, then a mosque, and few metres away still, an Anglican or Catholic church, I can’t seem to remember now. These were commendable structures, very easy on the eye. But it’d have been less concerning if they didn’t stick out like sore thumbs in their unremarkable surroundings. The only structures I could see as we sped through were the said houses and football pitches where youths played with reckless abandon. And eventually, I saw a hospital, a primary health centre. A sorry sight it was, nothing in comparison to the places of worship. It came across as a metaphor for Nigeria. As a people, we find ourselves too often neglecting schools and hospitals, yet investing heavily in religion—in the form of places of worship and pilgrimages and whatnot. We must question whether as a people we have so easily given up on any Earthly aspirations, choosing only to invest in an afterlife we believe will offer some respite after suffering through the existence that is Niger Area. Indeed, anyone who steps into what seemed to me like a near abandoned primary health centre is like to see whatever god/ gods they worship expeditiously. How is this right? How can we excuse such incompetence and misplaced priorities? The governments of Fiditi and Oyo State must do better, but it is difficult to expect anything from Engineer Seyi Makinde when even the State Hospital, LAUTECH Teaching Hospital is in such a state of disrepair, with doctors protesting unpaid wages and medical students left in limbo. Heck, even the National Association of Resident Doctors as a whole is on strike, and the University College Hospital, Ibadan, the premier Federal Tertiary Health Centre, is today emptied of patients, left to fend for themsleves elsewhere. Who will fight for the people of Fiditi and the people of Oyo State? How are they to manage chronic health conditions and life-threatening emergencies? As is typical of medical practice in this country, in time, we will see these people re-present at our teaching hospitals having used traditional remedies and prayers to unsuccessfully manage debilitating conditions. The avoidable deaths will continue, but at least we have beautiful churches and mosques to attend to these people’s healthcare needs through prayer since our Governments do not give a hoot about Nigerian healthcare.
Arrival in Abuja late that night will interrupt a situation that had eventually evolved into a bible quiz of sorts, and see us finally get a rest after a long day of travelling. Abuja would see us run into Hamza and his cats as we searched for food near 11 pm, and after begging him to not close up shop yet, he agreed finally to cook us some noodles while we petted his cats and quizzed him on Hausa songs. It is a marker of the Nigerian music industry today that Lili by FirstKlaz and Wayyo Allah Na by OG Abbah are some of the hottest songs in Nigeria at the moment. I have long been bored by the Lagos hegemony in our entertainment sector, pushing for greater inclusion of South-South and Northern culture in pop culture, because at the end of the day, Nigeria does not begin and end with Lagos, Detty December and the Yoruba language, this being antithetical to any visions of national unity and understanding of our unique cultures. And to see Arewa music come to the fore like this is so important, given the underappreciation of the North in particularly in a growingly Islamophobic and paranoid population. OG Abbah’s Wayyo Allah Na in particular would prove the definitive soundtrack for this trip, shouts of kakashe kakashe acting as a rousing call to action at many points for this valiant chess team. Hamza was appreciative of it all, and very kind to us as well, taking care to explain OG Abbah’s points and going out of his way to provide cutlery for us after cooking for the team for near an hour after he initially planned to close. There is no world in which this man should be regarded as a terrorist or ‘dangerous’ based only on our preconceived notions. In Nigeria, our multidimensional poverty leaves many youths without a future, present or past. One must understand that you, reading this, are privileged in the Nigerian context. The reality is that many of us, the poorest of the poor, coming from broken homes that cannot give them lives, are ripe for exploitation by radicalists, who seek these weak men to exploit in pursuit of their ideals. This is why we have the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta, the Islamic State of West Africa Province, the Indigenous People of Biafra—this is why we have cult groups. And when a man comes from nothing, there is nothing more attractive than the fight for an ideal, to pursue a world they believe they have been robbed of experiencing by the unfair circumstances of their birth and heritage. It leads at times to principled movements which demand justice and accountability and secure lasting change for nations. But faced with undue resistance and a nation that seems so opposed to free speech and association, and to accommodating opposing viewpoints and mindsets, yes they are like to take up arms. For while we had the Black Panthers, we had so many gangs that simply resorted to gun-running and drug-dealing in order to make a living. While we have principled ideals that birthed confraternities, what we have today is entirely alien from that. With radical Islamic terrorists, and all separatist groups, we must recognise that anarchists cannot be simply eliminated by brute force, for to make martyrs of them is to instil hope and pride in those who remain, and birth an even greater resistance further on. Ask the Romans about the Christians, they know this all too well. Many Boko Haram leaders have been killed, and we are still no closer to checking this wanton violence. It is only in curing the societal ills that disenfranchise these men that we can find a solution, in dialoguing with faith leaders and patriarchs that we can put these boys on the right path. But no, with Nigerians, every pardon is interpreted as an assault on our sensibilities, as cause for Donald Trump to come in here guns-a-blazing so to speak. The Government simply knows better. Keep hundreds of them in jail, to what end, with what sparse prison resources? When they’d still get busted out or released, even angrier and more isolated than before they were put behind bars. That is why we dialogued with MEND, that is why we dialogued with Boko Haram, and that is why we will continue to dialogue with IPOB and whoever else wants to blow the country up for the sake of it.
But, in any case, this article is more sports than politics, so I better get back to what I started out on. The next day, on the way to Jos was particularly eventful. After sojourning through Nasarawa and discovering in the process that a former Inspector General of Police, that is, a public servant like you and I, to my surprise, seemed well placed to win the Governorship elections on an APC ticket, we would find ourselves stranded in Riyom, Plateau state, thanks to a flat tyre. It was a surreal experience, there is no other way to describe it. To see and photograph the famous Riyom Rocks, three stones stacked atop each other almost like Jenga pieces—to gaze at the sun peeking through the central crevice, it felt like a message from God himself. “You, weak human, sojourner in this unknown land, I see you.” Spirituality, I believe, is found in scenery—there is good reason for convents and monasteries to be scenic and designed with elaborate architecture, for it is in beauty and nature that we all feel closest to God. Likewise, it was no surprise to climb atop the rock formations as we took selfies and see feathers, vestiges of a sacrifice, as well as a distant shrine between two boulders. Traditionalism is important expression, and as an aspect of the Nigerian state, must be protected from all who seek homogeneity. Our traditional festivals and ways of worship must be maintained against mounting pressure to rid this country of the last vestiges of her ancient history. The locals as well were very welcoming and accomodating for a people who have seen brutal attacks from armed Fulani of the Bangai Fulani settlement as recently as July this year, with 27 killed and many others injured in Bindi village, Tahoss community, Riyom Local Government Area, Plateau State. To understand, still, this unrelenting violence, is to take another detour, but a necessary one still. In conversation with others during this trip, I’ve heard it implied that this cycle of violence in the middle belt can in part be explained as reprisal attacks upon reprisal attacks. That the natives and nomads routinely attack each other, but owing to the sparse and isolated nature of Fulani settlers, attacks on them yield less fatalities, and less media attention. But when word of this transgression reaches another Fulani group and they strike to take vengeance, a village of natives proves an easy, sitting target, and the numbers of those killed are invariably more significant, and newsworthy than in the initial attack. It is a culture of people taking the law in their own hands because of a loss of trust in the judiciary, and it is for this reason that Sunday Jackson, a farmer and native of Kodomti Village, Numan LGA, Adamawa State currently faces the death penalty after the Supreme Court of Nigeria this year upheld his initial sentencing for the 2015 murder of Buba Ardo Bawuro, a Fulani herdsman who allegedly drove cattle onto Jackson’s land and attacked him with a knife, after which Jackson overpowered his assailant and fatally stabbed him. And when we settle into a culture of vengeance, it is very easy to forget entirely the genesis of our squabbles. But Kaduna-born Elnathan John, of Born on a Tuesday fame, perhaps my favourite Northern writer of all, explains it in painstaking fashion on his Substack. You see, this matter did not start today, and it is our failure to recognise and understand the genesis of present conflicts that leads to consistent mishandling of these situations.
In many ways, we all are still victims of Lord Luggard and the British usurpers, but this sensitive sociopolitical crisis we find ourselves in today must still be cleverly operated on, and in educating the next generation, we can find lasting resolutions. As a country or as a geographical construct, we have a long history with the Fulani, and they are a part of us whether we like it or not. We must consider Afonja, who rebelled against the Oyo Empire, seeking assistance from Fulani warriors to consolidate power, and the eventual rebellion of the Fulani under Mallam Alimi, usurping Afonja and establishing Ilorin as an Emirate under the Sokoto Caliphate. We must read about the history of the caliphate and the culture of tributes that led the Fulani to believe even today, centuries after the collapse of the Caliphate that the middle belt is still subject to them. We must learn more about Usman dan Fodio than what was taught in schools, what about him leading the Jihad and bringing Islam to our shores. We must understand the true nature of the conversion of our people from our traditional religions, and the manner in which we bled and cried in order for Islam to take root in Nigeria. Once again, Elnathan’s article is a good place to start. And no, ignorant Christian, this is not to say your religion, or any religion is any better. I have stories myself from my grand-uncle on how he struggled to resist the missionaries and their methods in what is now known as Abia State many moons ago, but this is a matter of time and place, and I am already struggling with the length this article has taken on before even getting to the sport.
In any case, we reached Jos eventually, vacuous and chilly as it were, and we were due to compete the very next day, at the University of Jos Library, just the ideal venue for chess and scrabble. Jos was very cold, yet locals made it a point to remind us that it was even colder later in the year, in December and January when Harmattan was it’s most bitter. Still, it took a lot of adapting, and a runny nose days into this trip was an early reminder from my body that I was not used to these temperatures at all. Still, we sauntered about like little penguins, wrapping up against the weather in UI’s famous blue and gold tracksuits, and with the scrabble event wrapping up, it was soon time for the chessmen to take centre stage.
Truly, it is a wonder that I will write about my chess this early. I always chided myself that I will get some big break before I begin to put my journey in print, but given the significance of this tournament, I feel I must still try, despite whatever impostor syndrome plagues me. But as some sort of introduction, I am not such a bad chess player. I started out relatively late at 18, although I had still been at least exposed to chess pieces and the rules before then. But it was only on watching The Queen’s Gambit at the close of 2020 that I would open my online chess account in January 2021, and start learning chess on YouTube as well. Given the effect that this sequence of events has had on my life, I struggle to even imagine the person I’d be if I hadn’t booted up that series on a long-distance lover’s Netflix subscription. It quite literally changed my life, and at a time when I was struggling with depression, being unable to resume university due to the Covid-19 lockdown and a prolonged ASUU strike, committing to chess kept me focused on something, and I soon found myself absorbed into the 64 squares, a world in which I felt safer. 100-Level would pass with initial enthusiasm but after all As and 1 B in the first semester, I would abandon classes entirely once all hopes of a perfect GPA were gone. So, scorned by GES 107, scoring a 69 on Reproductive Health of all things, I chose to only shuttle between my room and the Youth Friendly Centre, where the chess club met up. Each day, I would play Football Manager and watch chess videos on YouTube, taking care to almost entirely exhaust Agadmator’s video catalogue, and I will play chess again and again online. I liked it, because it felt like I had an aptitude for this, and in no time, I’d have logged thousands of 10-minute games on chess.com, playing on the loo, in the cafeteria, and on my bed in the dead of the night, waking up my roommate with my groans after hanging my rook yet again. Over-the-board chess would come first in UI Chess events, then in 2022, at the Awesome Classical Tournament in Ibadan, where I had the highest score of all the UI students playing, despite only having a year of YouTube gambit videos under my belt. Without over-analysing this, I’ve played in many tournaments since my first victory in my class’s inaugural chess tournament upon resuming in 2021, and I have won money and medals in a ton of them, coming to figure that despite the generally low investment in Nigerian chess, I can earn a bit on the side through this. And I love chess, there’s no other way to put it. I believe I love chess more than anybody I know, and for as long as this love remains, I can do whatever I set my mind to within Nigerian chess. For this reason, seeing myself as the highest-rated University of Ibadan player today means nothing to me, despite achieving this within an unprecedented timeframe. I aim to be National Champion, and to represent this country in the Olympiad. And that’s it, as far as introductions go.
Action would begin against Bayero University, Kano, and their largely unknown lineup. With Northern talents, there is a greater sense of unpredictability, given that we do not play in the same tournaments or exist within the same social circles. And with their entire team unrated, we knew nothing for certain. Their inane attempts to play unwitting patzers through their loud conversations before the match started did little more than make me all the more wary—it’d be particularly stupid to trust a chess player, and at this point, most of the UI team is too experienced to fall for such trickery. When we started, with the UI Captain out of the lineup on day one having only just finished his MB 1 exams days later than me, and still being on the way to Jos, we still expected to beat these unknowns—but they’d soon be putting up strong resistance, that at points put the result in question. Lamber on the fourth board will not find as much opposition in this match, and we were soon assured of a point with him dispatching his opponent with the white pieces. But Leo on board one, a FASU teammate and a great friend, will find himself in trouble early on in a double-edged Caro-Kann. All this while, I was facing off against Abdullahi Zayd, and his unruffled demeanour soon began to bother me. As one of the highest-rated players in the event, it felt to me that it’d be a great shame to drop points so early on, and I made great efforts to push on for the win. And in doing so, I would push f4 in a position in which I could have settled for more controlled pressure, and a strong opposite bishops ending. This stubborn risk-taking and poor positional understanding would open up his g7 dragon, leading to tactical motifs that will continue to strain my position. Yet, I somehow managed to weather the complications, losing the exchange but finding the perpetual to draw a position I wasn’t sure I’d have survived a few months ago. It was a scary moment, and brought to my mind ghosts of pre-NUGA against LAUTECH, in which I again pushed f4, and lost in the complications in a game in which I was the favourite. I was determined to not have another poor showing representing the school, and these thoughts will plague me for most of the initial embers of the 2025 NUGA. With my game ending last, and securing a 1.5-2.5 victory, we would be rewarded with a second round clash against the Federal University of Technology, Akure, favourites, at least if the discourse on chess WhatsApp platforms was anything to go by. Round 2 was shockingly early for a clash between two pre-tournament favourites, but who were we to question Caissa. It was a horrible result, really, there is no other way to put it. UI will go on to lose 0.5-3.5 to our South-West neighbours, going down by a margin that will ultimately prove crucial in the tiebreaks. I’d say personally, I was still feeling my way into the tournament at this point, and it proved much too early for me to face a strong opponent in David Oyakhilome. Still jarred by my previous draw, I came out guns-a-blazing with the white pieces, looking to play quickly and put the contest to bed early on. But this carelessness would see me in a superior position, push another reckless pawn, c4 this time, and in doing so, make an elementary blunder that effectively ended the contest. I was exasperated, as I felt I could have played that game on forever, but a loss of concentration would see it over before it began, a painful reminder of the weight of decision-making in chess. Two more from our team will lose, and after this game, we were already considering whether to give up on the team medal and just try to secure whatever individual medals we could salvage. It wasn’t just the loss, but the manner in which we did, and in truth, it took great introspection and a smoothing over of internal quarrels for us to come back from this.
Without going into too much detail on the infighting necessitated by the pressure cooker that is inter-varsity chess, I must say, our next opponents, Rivers State University, were the last team we wanted to face while reeling from a loss. I’d played two of them already at the African University Games, and had no misconceptions about the strength of their team. But facing Emmanuel Akomas on the first board with the black pieces, the same man I had drawn at FASU one year earlier, I knew I still had to fight. Thankfully, my opponent was in a similar fighting mood, and upon neutralising his scotch gambit and hunting out his king, I was able to deliver a most satisfying mate with his monarch stranded on h5. Finally winning a game gave me some much needed confidence, and I felt finally that the wind was in my sails. With Mattace torturing Ezeh Pamella as well and Abraham winning strongly on the fourth board, we’d coast to a convincing 3-1 victory against a team that had already held Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University, Bauchi, the highest rated team from the North, to a draw. At the same time, FUTA will defeat UNIBEN, setting us up against our longtime rivals in a clash that already seemed destined to determine the silver medalists. This one in particular meant so much more, given that in two previous encounters at the National Schools Team Chess Championship and at the 2022 National University Games, the Benin natives had bested UI, and to let this happen three times was to consign this university with the ignominy of being regarded as UNIBEN’s bitches as it were. Mattace’s opening surprise for Effort Aigbekaen, the UNIBEN Captain, would leave us both in a state of concern as Effort navigated the melee, clinching a pawn in a desperado, but on the last two boards, I knew little about the state of affairs, choosing mostly to stay glued to my seat, at least in the opening phase. But my opponent would indeed go astray in a main line of the Spanish, surprising me as I had thought UNIBEN players to be generally well-versed in the Spanish. It had surprised me because I generally did not experiment much in this opening, and anyone who’d taken care to look at my games, especially my win against Benin native, Ebenezer Ajieh at Ife, would know I have a pet line. Had they neglected to prepare against me perhaps? It was surprising, and left me with a sour taste in my mouth—perhaps I wasn’t considered enough of a threat to cook against. Or perhaps my recent history online had simply thrown them off my tracks. But in any case, 9. Bf4 will confirm to me that my opponent was thoroughly out of book, and the rest of the game will prove to be a matter of technique in a way, although I must have gone astray at times. I converted in some 74 moves to finish last on my table, and with Mattace pulling off the swindle of the century against the confident Effort in a pawn down king and pawn ending, we drew with UNIBEN in a match we could well have won if we scored on the lower boards where we felt we were stronger than them.
ATBU were next, and urged by Mattace to seek revenge on his behalf against their board one, the 2000-rated Habila Jehu Thomas, I sought to take the fight to him early on, taking space against his Caro-Kann, and forcing his king to remain in the centre from the offing. Balancing my aggressive style with more positional conversion has been a focus for me in recent months, and taking the advice of the legendary IM Oluwafemi Balogun to heart, I will go on to trade queens after my opponent defended successfully, and go for a rook ending in which I had all the chances. As Mattace’s transcription of the IM’s words goes, “If you’re better developed, go for the endgame.” For one needs not fear the endgame and regard it as automatically drawn, and in doing so, invite undue concessions. Rejecting his well-placed queen trade to me simply felt like a stupid decision as I would be allowing him get into my position, so into the endgame we went, I with advanced kingside pawns and an open file, and him with work to do. But even in this ending, he showed great intuition and tenacity to fend me off, and soon, I was the one to slip up, my careless 35… Ra7+ in lieu of Ra8 allowing his king entry into my position and eventual mating threats. Here, it was my turn to buckle down and defend, but thankfully I had left enough time on the clock to think out some rather creative solutions. There it was at last, ½-½, and the hugs from my waiting teammates confirmed that we’d just beaten the rating favourites 2.5-1.5 to secure our standing, and at last, I was proving much more of an asset to this team.
Rounds six and seven, pardon my Gen-Alpha pun, will see us face weakened OOU and UniJos teams, as schools pivoted towards securing individual medals on their strongest boards, with the tournament effectively over as a contest, and I would secure a 5/7 finish along with many lessons learnt along the way. We’d gotten team silver, the second best chess playing university in the country, behind FUTA on tiebreaks, and ahead of UNIBEN by a point. It was confirmation of the potential of our team, many of who, being stuck in lengthy Medicine and Surgery programs, are bound to represent the University later on at chess events. While that gold still eludes us, this was confirmation that it is possible, and that big break could come sooner rather than later. Personally still, my playing style has evolved at a frightening pace, and I still see in my games so many areas I can leverage on to further improve. But more than that, it is a finding of self, with greater self-discovery on the 64 squares helping me to play in a fashion that greater matches my own personality and proclivities in my personal life. Analyses with opponents were of great quality, and I enjoyed rubbing shoulders with the best minds of the country. And further still, to go on this journey with my teammates and our coach, Dr Oluwaseun Ariyo left me with many pointers about my chess and self. There still is nothing new under the sun, and all knowledge, like energy, comes from a preexisting source. To take in information, to learn and synthesise solutions is the greatest gift that we as humans can ask for, for it is in this suffering that we discover meaning. Feats of mental strength and stamina are thoroughly enjoyable, today, I find Path and Pharm to be the favourite exam I’ve written in a minute. To push through exhaustion and despair in medicine and chess is to break new boundaries within your mind, and what you initially thought was possible, and for this reason, I am wholly engrossed in these ventures.
Further still, there was much to learn about the University of Jos in conversation with her residents. Our first night will see us take up a game of Whot with young undergraduates, while we shovelled noodles in our mouths. And in conversation with these young men, I would come to learn about the shared history of UI and UJ, with the University of Jos being established initially in 1971 as a satellite campus of the University of Ibadan, just as we in turn were associated with the University College, London. It was a poignant moment to see this young man narrate as well his fascination with the University of Ibadan, with it being his initial choice, and it brought into focus the outlook on the First and Best elsewhere. Many would indeed associate with UI in the course of this trip, and I found conversation with UI-trained UJ academics wholly absorbing. One such case was our encounter with Professor Stephen Akintunde, the former University of Jos Librarian, and a fellow NUGA Silver medalist, clinching the medal at the 6th NUGA Games where UI trailed by a solitary point to Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria in the Basketball finals. It is refreshing to interact with our great predecessors, and in doing so, find meaning in these human struggles. Another academic would tell us of his time as an undergraduate in the Department of Mathematics, University of Ibadan, and explain to us just what it meant to him as a person to gain admission into UI. This always meant that much more, acceptance into the nation’s premier university taken as a stamp of one’s capabilities. Yet, he reacted with shock at the mounting challenges faced by students today, with the demolition of Heritage Park and the mounting school fees, all the while informing us of another impending obstacle, a potential ASUU strike as rumoured in UJ, where the current ASUU President, Professor Chris Piwuna is from—with ASUU’s initial one month warning to the Federal Government set to elapse today, Friday, the 21st of November.
More must be done to preserve the education system as we know it, lest we end up alienating future generations from the defining experiences we once took for granted. With both my parents having studied at UI, I know all too well the weight of this University’s name socially, and the extent to which they believe their experiences here prepared them for their careers and later lives. But in a world in which exorbitant fees no longer allow the poor man to study at our Federal Universities, how can we maintain the transformative effects of education? We risk leaving generations ahead for dead while trying to monetise education today, and we must take care to weigh the pros and cons of these actions. In NELFUND Is Anti-Student, UIMSA Press maligned the National Loan Scheme as a shirking of responsibility, and she maintains this stance. There is no world in which failure to fund education, and kicking that can further down the road to following governments, will prove beneficial in the long run. And all this is despite mounting corruption and fiscal recklessness. Just when will enough be enough? Systemic waste and financial impropriety continue to account for the lions share of expenses, so of course you will be hard-pressed to find doctor and lecturer unions take “We don’t have this money,” for an answer when dialoguing with the Federal Government, because the ruling class continues to waste public funds that ought to work for the good of the country.
UNIBADAN, at the close of business, finished 6th on the medal table with 9 golds, 13 silvers and 14 bronzes, her highest ever placement at the National University Games since documentation fully began. For her 97-man contingent, this is not at all a failure, and it signifies persistent improvement from a University that only saw two gold medals at the 2022 NUGA, both coming from the chess team on that occasion. But still, it is not a number that the so-called First and Best can be comfortable with—we must go to competitions to fight for first at every turn, mere participation does not begin to define the ethos of this university. In contrast to us, Benson Idahosa University of Edo State, a private university not as nearly visible on the Times Rankings or whatever faux metrics you believe lends credibility to this institution garnered 23 gold medals, 6 silvers and 2 bronzes to secure 1st place on the medal table. This is a product of a dedicated scouting program and sustained sports investment and training, with this victory not coming overnight. And it is this intentionality about sports that we lack on this side of the divide. UI ought to dominate in sports as well, just as we do in academic research and debates—to prove that we educate ‘the whole man’ in earnest, and not just aspects of being. But our failure to recognise the benefits of the pressure cooker that is competitive sports has left us falling behind our competitors, reduced to unwitting bystanders in recent years. We must leverage on focused investment, for a University that extends a library construction project to her football pitches cannot magically expect her football team to be the best in the country, despite limited facilities. A university that has no physical venue for her chess team to play and train must understand that whatever success she sees in this sport comes in spite of the efforts of those at the helm of affairs, not because of it. UI’s brilliant volleyball team who did not even get the chance to prove their prowess this year, owing to the limited registration of sports by the university management, remain responsible for their own balls, court maintenance and any other overhead. In conversation with any student-athlete, one fact remains clear—this at times is a frustrating place to be a professional sportsman. We must recognise that however significant this result may be, it is more a matter of things falling into place, than a serious marker of lasting progress on the sporting front. Now, more than ever is the time to consolidate our gains and right our wrongs. We must recognise the need to take University sports to the next level and create an enabling environment for our athletes. As outlined in our July 7th Editorial on Sporting Neglect in the University of Ibadan, there remain several fronts on which we must seek lasting change, and ahead of the West African University Games and National University Games next year, we must ensure we right our wrongs lest we slip back into the dark ages of two or three gold medals, and an E for Effort.
