The kids are grumpy. And they have good reason to. A myriad of consequences have arisen from the repeated interruptions to the medical student calendar in UI, and the simultaneous acceleration of the timelines of students in other courses, few as glaring as the compounded accommodation crisis before our eyes today. Alexander Brown Hall, a 710 bed Hostel in existence since 1957, has long been deemed insufficient for the accommodation of medical students, even while it housed only three sets of clinical students. But now, with seven sets of medical students in UI, numbering well over a thousand in total, and four of these currently in the clinical phase of their academic program at the University College Hospital, Ibadan, this picture has devolved into full-blown mayhem—and that is discounting the number of students of other programs accommodated in Alexander Brown Hall. Given that at the end of this session, this picture would be even more dire with a fifth set crossing over to UCH, and with eight classes in total enrolled in the University of Ibadan’s Medicine and Dentistry Undergraduate programs, the last two of which would be numbering well over 300 apiece, we must once again question how our facilities can cope with this strain.
With three sets in play, the picture, while not ideal, was at least consistent. Freshers and finalists were priority—for the 500L set, neither just settling into life at UCH, nor preparing for their final exams before they are inducted into the medical profession, the consensus was that they will compete for the available spaces by the luck of the draw. Certain individuals were prioritised during this process—executives of student associations, athletes representing the University of Ibadan and disabled persons. But by and large, competition wasn’t as stiff, given that a sufficient number of the 500L class would still be accommodated, and those who weren’t would purchase bed spaces on the unofficial black market, bargaining with contemporaries resident outside ABH for prices close to market value. This all is far from what is obtainable today, with an increasing number of students in contrast to a constant supply further driving demand for even these black market spaces and leaving many stranded in the face of insurmountable cost.
“There is no denying the necessity for students, at certain stages of various clinical clerkships, to be resident within the hospital premises so as to be available to function as part of a caring team round the clock,” states the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria in her Minimum Standards for Medical and Dental Education guidebook. It is recommended that provision be made for the hostel accommodation of medical and dental students on the premises of the teaching hospital, and no more than two share a room. Yet, in our present state, many here are forced to commute long distances, often at odd hours, while struggling to deal with the workload of lectures and clinical postings.
By all accounts, then, the efforts of the College and her alumni body in ensuring the construction of a new hostel are commendable, reportedly coming as a direct response to the observations of MDCN. Yet, the reality is that while we must wait for the conclusion of this project in order for our accommodation woes to truly be over, we still require an increased amount of practicality to face the situation before us—and so far, we have struggled.
In the face of limited resources, freshmen, members of the 400L medical and dental classes and 300L Physiotherapy and Medical Laboratory Science classes, and finalists—600L students of Medicine and Dentistry and 500L students of other courses are priority. But when, by virtue of the MDCN strike, JOHESU strike, NARD strike and other causes to extend the calendars of medical and dental students, we have a ‘700L’ class, and soon an ‘800L’ class, at least by the UI calendar, all logic goes out of the window in interpreting this clause. So, while then, the definition of freshmen in Alexander Brown Hall is still clear, with a steady stream of youthful aspiring doctors arriving here ever so frequently as the preclinical program is compressed further in keeping with UI’s eleven-week semesters, with ‘finalists’, the picture is far murkier.
Because to define the current situation is to recognise that presently, the University of Ibadan’s Medicine and Surgery undergraduate program currently has well over 1000 students enrolled, with 646 of those being in that being in clinical phase of their training. 160 in the 2k23 class, including 49 women and 111 men, 163 (107 males and 56 females) in 2k24, 161 (123M + 38F) in 2k25, and now, 162 in the 2k26 class, with a similarly imbalanced gender split at 123 males and 39 females. With the male-female ratio of University of Ibadan Medicine and Surgery admissions increasingly skewed in recent years, reflective of a broader trend in Nigerian education, and owing to a myriad of factors, significant amongst these being our cultural approaches to education for the girl child and the interplay of chosen careers and family-building. In any case, the reality is that at present, we have far more males than females training in the MB;BS program, the single largest contributor to Alexander Brown Hall residents. And while the 355 rooms, split 182 to 173 for men and women in ABH, are wholly inadequate, this structuring still proved a significant factor in this accommodation cycle, with only seven of the 123 males in the 2k26 class balloting yes on the 18th of February, 2026.
This, no doubt, was a contributor to the furore that followed, with such a significant portion of this class being struck off from the get-go. The outsized reaction on the UIMSA Central Group, a source of much controversy in recent years, was to be expected, as the class aired their frustrations and demanded answers. What wasn’t expected, however, at least for some, was the delay in responding to these concerns, the eventual devolution of discussions into name-calling, and the eventual halting of communication on that group chat in a bid to depressurise the situation. The response of Folusho Olu-Adegbola, UIMSA President, several hours after the commotion broke out, would, while rightfully calling out the use of indecent language and the incendiary comments that had come to mar the situation, would however, make it clear that the UIMSA Executive Council was not at all attuned to proceedings in the buildup to February 18th. Yet, the silence of the Alexander Brown Hall Executive Council would speak even louder, proving that the students had no real voice going into this process, at least, not an elected voice. Who then was running this show in collaboration with the Hall Management? And why had they not made it clear on behalf of the affected students that a physical balloting exercise conducted over a lengthy timeframe in uncomfortable conditions, with the given that only 7 of 123 men would ballot yes, was the wrong idea? When reached for comment by the Press, Olaoluwa Olabisi’s stance was a peculiar one. “What I can tell you is that none of my executive council members that I know about was part of the decision made concerning the balloting exercise.” It’s a worrying proposition that a decision this drastic can be made in Alexander Brown Hall without the input of her Hall Chairperson or his Executive Council.
“Alexander Brown Hall is under UI,” is one of the most oft-repeated evasive colloquialisms touted by the powers that be, of whose attitude to students’ welfarism we would come to discuss later. However, one of the main campus traditions that is adopted over here is the prioritisation of freshmen who crossed over to clinical school in the accommodation process. As UI has done for 100-level students in Halls of residence on the main campus, so has CoMUI customarily looked out for her 400-level medical students. That is at least until the 2024/2025 academic session, when the 2k25 class bore the brunt of a calendar lag between UI and her College of Medicine. A clinical school designed to cater to three classes, all of a sudden, had to handle four, and those to face the consequences of this were the members of the class newest to the system.
Most people probably understand the implication of the calendar lag already, courtesy of conversations with senior colleagues or UIMSA Press’ input on these—now over-flogged—issues. But for clarity’s sake, what all of this looked like for the 2k25 class upon resumption to clinical school was arrival at Ibadan from places as far as Kogi, Abuja, Kaduna, and South-East Nigeria late at night without a clear picture of where to sleep, just because they were demanded to resume their schooling in these unfamiliar circumstances. It was arrival with heavy luggage at the University of Ibadan, and a depressing sojourn to their former lodgings to take up residence with friends made in their first three years as students. It was stashing their baggage in insecure locations, and choosing to perambulate in Ibadan with solitary bags containing the barest essentials, retiring after lengthy days at Anatomy Reading Room, and rising early the next day for orientation at the SMLS Pitch, UCH, on fire management. It was spending the nights in different places, no more than two in any one location, so as not to inconvenience varied benefactors. For the relatively lucky ones, it was coming to school from home in Ibadan, however distant it was from UCH, burning an unhealthy percentage of their allowance on commuting in doing so, or squatting with a senior colleague resident at Alexander Brown Hall, kind enough to share their space. Or pooling resources with six or more friends to sleep together in a single ABH room in the absence of official allocations—times when it seemed to see a portion of the floor to sleep on on a given night was a luxury. In altogether catastrophic scenarios, it was staying back at home longer than expected in the absence of any potential accommodation in Ibadan. On the spectrum of best to worst, none of these were convenient choices to be posed with. But failure to resume was never an option, especially with the 75% attendance scimitar hanging over everyone’s heads, with defaulters likely to drop down a class, further extending their tenure in this purgatory.
As traumatic as these experiences were, they could have been chalked up to mere ill luck on the part of the class were it to be a one-off situation. But no, it seems rather to be the very beginnings of a circus poised to befall following classes, down to those still confidently selecting Medicine and Surgery, University of Ibadan, as their first choice in cyber cafés across the country. And that’s the bigger problem with the experiences faced by 2k25. That it wouldn’t get better for 2k26, or 2k27, or the ones after that have now doubled in sheer number—owing to the NUC’s increased quota. That it has to come to this is no fault of the students or their lecturers. We must state that the strike actions, however ineffective they may have seemed in the grand scheme, were for good cause. However, it is unfortunate that what students cannot pay for in cash by attending private universities, they pay for in time by remaining in federal universities. And it is in light of the ripple effects of these strikes, lags and altogether inconvenient conditions for learning, that the College of Medicine, in collaboration with University Management, has had need to sort out alternative accommodation.
As earlier intoned, the most ideal situation ABH has had over the years is accommodating two and a half classes, leaving only a portion of 500-level students to figure out alternative residences. Our expansive alumni base recognised this and pledged huge sums to the development of new hostels in UCH, notable among these being the $1 million donation by Dr Philip O. Ozuah, the President and Chief Executive Officer of Montefiore Medicine, USA, in 2022 and a $1.36 million grant from Lieutenant General T.Y. Danjuma, ex Chief of Army Staff and Minister of Defence, some two years later. The 2k25 class was deep into the eight-month ASUU strike when news of Ozuah’s donation broke, and members of that class were already starting to fantasise about the possibility of being among the first to occupy the hostel upon its completion. Of course, that didn’t turn out to be the case in 2025, three years later. Digging through the Students’ Hostels Project on the College of Medicine website reveals the donations received so far: ₦40 million from the Class of 1982, $30,000 from the Class of 1989, a cumulative $12,010 from Dr Titilola Britto, along with other substantial contributions, evidenced by the conferment of Platinum Donor status on multiple individuals. With this in mind, one begins to wonder why these hostel projects have lingered for so long to the point where hundreds of students now commute from outside UCH to attend time and energy-consuming ward rounds, clinics, and calls. The 30 weeks of weekly reports, from 22nd January, 2024, to around September, 2024, on the CoMUI site remain our only indicators as to the work done at every stage of the project, with the reports proving incrementally more difficult to locate as the weeks went on, until by all indications, they stopped entirely. With the webpages for the 29th and 30th reports not even loading up at all at the time of publishing this article, the 28th report is the public’s final insight into the workings of the building committee, telling tale of the casting of the third-floor slab and raising of reinforced concrete columns in Block C, the placement of steel reinforcement in Block E, and the reinforcement of columns and slabs in Block F. It paints a picture of the program of work being followed, and timelines being kept to. Therefore, it is a surprise that now, many months on, not a single block is still ready for students’ habitation, even nine months on from the fanciful inauguration of Block C, Philip Ozuah Block. Why? Money? After so much has been invested already?
Again, turning to facts and figures as obtainable on the College of Medicine website, Ozuah Block’s non-completion can be excused on the premise that the budget amounted to $1.36 million dollars, which is about $360,000 more than the alumnus’ donation. However, General T.Y. Danjuma’s donation was the exact amount as stated on the budget—$1.36 million. The website’s article didn’t reflect the date of donation, but external media houses published the same news in the last quarter of 2023, over two years ago. This information—alongside countless others available online—only deepens the puzzle of why accommodation remains a pressing challenge for clinical students at the nation’s foremost medical tertiary institution in 2026. By year’s end, the College of Medicine is expected to host five clinical classes, yet the available spaces remain virtually unchanged from over a decade ago, when only three classes were the norm.
If the authorities truly prioritised student welfare, hostel projects would not drag on endlessly before reaching completion. The look of surprise on consultants’ faces when confronted with the dire state of ABH raises questions about how much they actually understand the realities of the students they expect—without apology—to report to the Intensive Care Unit by 6:30 a.m. for ward rounds. It is equally baffling how they anticipate students will remain on call at the Accident and Emergency unit late into the night, despite the dangers of moving outside the hospital premises, especially for those without private cars.
With the last of the Class of 2025 having written their MB4 resit examinations following persistent delays in the face of industrial action, there exist two classes in COMUI with the claim to the title of finalist, neither of which has taken their third MB;BS Examinations, technically not being in the final year of study. It will be six months later, in August of 2026, before the first of these classes is eligible to sit for Obstetrics/Gynaecology and Paediatrics, and another year later, before the latter finally face the dreaded MB3. To put it plainly, it’d be ages before either class is expected to complete their studies here —May, 2027 and April, 2028 to be precise, and many months more as “finalists”, with the 2k25 class also entering 600L also at the end of this year—according to the University of Ibadan, anyways.
The point then is clear—the current status quo will not hold—can not hold. And this much was made clear at the January 8th Alexander Brown Hall Town Hall meeting. Amidst so much distressing discourse, some headway was still made, because despite our shortcomings as thinkers, just about anyone with half a brain could see the speeding train heading towards ABH come this accommodation cycle. Yet, the sham that followed truly defined where we are as a demographic—politically, socially and otherwise. At such a critical juncture, Olaoluwa Olabisi, Hall Chairperson of Alexander Brown Hall, was absent. Just as he was during the Physical Balloting exercise that would come some six weeks later. At the time, he was said by the Deputy Hall Chairperson to be unavoidably absent—later, some would opine that he was on an official break. No explanation, as well, was provided by the ABH Executive Council to the public as to why they were absent from, and even appeared to be blindsided by the physical balloting exercise, and why even if this process was to be anchored by John Olagunwa, a man who is neither a student leader within ABH nor a porter in the employ of the hall, there was no line of communication with the elected executives that are obligated to keep residents informed.
And with the Hall Chairperson absent, those in place would conduct an utterly rudderless farce that would go on for hours without constructive discourse regarding our problems. Instead, we took the microphone to demand priority for our classes, toot our horns needlessly about our sets being most worthy of consideration and preferential treatment, and point a middle finger at other classes in turn. Because, of course, only so many classes could still be accommodated in this highly sought-after displaced persons camp. A puzzling definition by the Deputy Hall Chairperson of the class of 2027 as the ‘Graduating Class’ and the class of 2028 as the ‘Final Year Class’, would in truth set the tone for the storm to come, and of course, the first member of the audience to be conferred speaking privileges would light this match and lay bare the self-centredness of all in attendance. “Can we have a situation where the Graduating class is given priority before finalists and freshers, before other classes?” There was no consideration of the original agenda—plotting a collective action plan in the face of the worst accommodation crisis we’ve faced as students—it was simply a matter of settling our own classes from the start, and having other classes fend for themselves, even while the hall could clearly only fully accommodate two classes, and no solution involving the ‘graduating’ class, ‘finalists’, and freshers would work. “But they (2k23) were given priority last year as finalists even though they just entered 500L (COMUI). Now, we (2k24) are entering 600L (UI). So why are we not being treated the same?” “It’s always been that freshers and finalists are given priority. But when we crossed this year, it was not done. As far as we are concerned, what was customary for us was not done. And we must be compensated.” And there we had it, representatives of the 2k23, 2k24 and 2k25 classes had, in quick succession, lobbied for their respective classes to be prioritised come what may in the upcoming accommodation cycle. The solitary member of the 2k26 class who did get a word in that night did campaign for the prioritisation of freshmen and final-year students as is obtainable in UI, but with 2k26 markedly underrepresented at this meeting, having still not been officially admitted into Alexander Brown Hall, her sheepish concerns will be overshadowed by more vocal campaigners from other classes on the night.
And while UIMSA President, Folusho Olu-Adegbola, came to recognise the route the meeting was taking, urging all to focus on the real matter at hand and edging the discussion towards the use of CARTA (Consortium for Advanced Research Training in Africa) Block by students as well as other alternatives, the resumption of speeches from the general public made it clear that nobody had heard what he said. Given Victor Mong’s diatribe and Wilson Isibor’s response, this couldn’t be any more apparent. “I think that based on custom, 2k23 should have accommodation until they leave CoMUI.” An angry roar from the crowd. “I think that 2k26 should be delayed for a while until those blocks are completed,” the orator continued. More clamouring. These words, like Faith Iwasepeletun’s expletive-laced comments on 2k23’s perpetual right to priority over others, were fully thought out and constructed to reinforce a certain position. The graduating class that was yet to write their third of four professional exams were to be prioritised at all costs, even while the new College of Medicine Hostel, which was meant to alleviate this accommodation burden, was as of yet a long way from completion, with no propositions at the time on the use of single blocks independently of the completion of others. But for some, it was enough to demand that the newest intakes at the University College Hospital, Ibadan, be indefinitely prohibited from enjoying accommodation in UCH until this new hostel had fully materialised. And to add fuel to this fire was a Senator of the University of Ibadan Medical Students’ Association representing the 2k24 constituency, Wilson Isibor. “I just want to use this opportunity to say how wicked the 2k23 class is.” Nary had the words left his lips when an unseemly fracas was ignited at the scene, a massive mob of students surrounding him and eventually seizing the microphone. It would be several minutes of defusing tensions and a venue change in the face of increasing rainfall before Isibor would have the opportunity to finish his speech. “Bar the Executives in the 2k23 class, nobody in the 2k23 class should be given accommodation.” More boos.
There was greater regulation surrounding the raising of points after this event, however, and finally, some observers moved for petitions to be made to the College on alternative accommodation, and in the event of a non-fulfilment of her obligations to her students, the student body should even resort to protests. And further still, there was talk from Executives on work being in place on the opening of the CARTA block for students’ use. Yet, how are we here at this point all this time later, still so far from housing for all?
Four resolutions will be published the following day, after the collection of 262 signatories. Fast-track the finishing and opening of the already commissioned Philip Ozuah block for students. Make CARTA Block available for students, with the aim of accommodating some 60 students, with three students per room. Temporarily demarcate Philip Ozuah block from the remaining blocks by a barricade to ensure the safety of students while construction is ongoing. And finally, in the face of the water-logged nature of the site, it was agreed that a makeshift pathway and gate be constructed for ease of entry in the meantime.
In conversation with Hall Chairperson, Olaoluwa Olabisi, it becomes apparent that we’ve been way off the mark with these resolutions—deemed as the best possible response at the time, but ultimately fantastical in their nature. “The finishing and opening of the Ozuah Block has been postponed due to yet unresolved challenges like water and electricity. I met with Prof Gbemisola Oke (Co-Chairperson of the CoMUI/ ICOMAA Hostel Building Committee) on February 14th 2026, and she explained how our letter and effort have triggered a lot of mechanisms at the college level. While they are tirelessly working days and nights to get the block ready, the most tentative time I was given was May 2026.” It will be another few months still before students are accommodated in the new hostels, a reality that ensures that members of the 2k26 and 2k25 classes, at least for now, must make do with alternative accommodation. Any ideas as well of using CARTA Block in the meantime were shot down in discussions. “Following a meeting with the Provost on the 16th February 2026, the CARTA block was revisited, and the conclusion was that the college is currently appealing to UI to hand the project to the college to manage, as it has been passed down from UI Ventures to a private facility manager. While this alternative looks like the most feasible at this point, I was told that it is almost impossible for the availability to match with the accommodation cycle due to the bureaucratic bottlenecks involved and also the block is not in any good shape for immediate habitation.” So, there we have it. Given that the final two resolutions from the Town Hall were contingent on the first, it becomes apparent that we’ve gone zero for four with the 2025/ 2026 session having officially started three days ago already. In truth, this could have well have been an expected outcome—it was never obvious those demands would be immediately met, knowing how long it can take to effect change here at times. Yet, we dared to dream, and perhaps that was our undoing—choosing to simply hope for this best-case scenario rather than prepare a contingency plan that equitably distributes accommodation.
And were these measures to be implemented, it still isn’t apparent that they would prove the lasting solution we envisioned at the start of the process. Key to all this working at all is the cost of tenancy in the CoMUI Hostel once opened. It must be in line with the accommodation fees in other UI Hostels, a possibility many students find to be optimistic at best, given the scale of the project and its maintenance needs. But in truth, were this to cost upwards of N200,000, for instance, a far cry from the N60,000 Alexander Brown Hall fee, it’d only serve to limit the number of students who can actually afford the new accommodations, ensuring demand for Alexander Brown Hall bedspaces remains in excess of supply.
A sure pitfall of this inequitable demand and supply is the hellish market dynamic it creates. Students only complicate things for one another by capitalising on accommodation privileges to drive up prices. Ultimately, not all clinical students choose to stay in ABH, with a number of those guaranteed accommodation by virtue of their class or the luck of the draw choosing to seek stable electricity and water elsewhere. However, these students, resident outside Alexander Brown Hall, still secure bedspaces at the start of the accommodation cycle, only to sell these on to fellow students for outrageous prices, sometimes three or four more times than the N60,000 listed on the school portal. This, as well as the bartering of these spaces to friends who want single rooms at the cost of those who weren’t granted accommodation at all, serves only to ensure that those who fail to ballot yes in the face of this artificial scarcity are forced to look for exorbitant sums of money to secure lodging. It is capitalism at its ugliest, typifying the lack of empathy and self-centeredness that has come to define us. It is scarcely believable that today, there is still no oversight protecting against this, despite this rigmarole coming to be a fixture in the ABH accommodation cycle. It is gross negligence at best and complicity at worst.
Amidst this furore, it remains interesting to contrast the fates of the 2k24 and 2k26 classes in recent accommodation cycles. Like 2k23 before them, 2k24 faced real difficulty in resuming to ABH at all, a persistent challenge in a hall where the calendar and the exit of her graduates haven’t always matched up to UI’s intake. Even after being granted and paying for accommodation, they appeared to step on collective toes on the way to eventually settling into the hall, as they demanded that previous residents of their allocated rooms move out immediately, a stance that would result in both physical violence and a virtual war of words. And yet, while that image as harbingers of a rebellion was cut in 2024, it’s interesting to see them ease into the system and comfort, pursuing the same finalist privileges 2k23 pursued last year, a given in some ways, as a precedent has already been set a year ago at 2k25’s expense. Still, however, this all is a marker of our self-interest, and the caste stratification of medical school and medicine in general, a discipline as regimented as the military in some ways, similarly to other noble professions. It is the most Orwellian of Orwellianisms, a page out of Animal Farm itself, as cliché as that political analogy may be. And in truth, it is nothing to be ashamed of; it is this selfishness that makes us human, no person or group truly considers others above themselves. But in aspiring to be more, we must be more. And we have not done our youngers justice; nobody in this hall has. Predictably, they are the ones who have got the short end of the stick, to be stuck in limbo today. It is medicine after all, and hierarchy reigns supreme.
And even as specified in The French Dispatch, that great publication of old, for all of Zeffirelli’s prowess as a chess player and orator, the revolution evolved beyond him, growing even more radical. But it is in dying young that he avoided the fate of the revolutionary, of Museveni and of Traoré. It is only in dying young without the trappings of power that he truly lived forever, in the hearts and minds of the young as an ideal, a picture of the struggle frozen in time. For the fate of the struggle, of the revolution, is to conform. In revisions to this, our manifesto, shall we slip fully into nihilism as we debate the futility of all this? The futility in combating human nature? In fighting centuries of culture? Shall we recognise the meaninglessness in waging a battle we cannot win, in journalism at all? You see, it is difficult to decide. But like dreamers, we aim for an ideal, to see people act like the heroes they tout themselves as, to see a student population joined in service of God and others, that cornerstone of Jesuit and Ignatian ideology. And still, we pursue this Magis, at whatever cost it may come. In all, this very indifference, our entrapment in this prison of our own creation, Ennui-sur-Blasé, will cause us so much heartache still. The youths will remain grumpy.
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