Tunde, an ecstatic newly admitted fresher, scours social media trying to research the different private hostels in the University of Ibadan. From rumours alone, he already believes the public hostels available might be below his standards. Like everyone else in this content creation-ridden age, he settles on the one he finds most aesthetically pleasing. Fast forward to resumption; he packs into his “beautiful” hostel only to see that there is no light and it has been that way for a week. Worse is he discovers that his mates in the public hostels he looked down on enjoy far more electricity supply than he does. He runs to the tap in the “modern” bathroom, hears a creak, waits for water to flow — nothing. He returns to his room mourning the half a million naira paid for substandard services and begins to sweat, forcing his eyes toward the sorry excuse for a window.
“I’m screwed,” he mutters, realising this is his room for the next year.
Ironically, private hostels were never meant to become the default option for thousands of University of Ibadan students. When the University was established in 1948, it operated a largely residential system modelled after the Oxbridge structure, according to IFRA, where the university offers accommodation, dining, social spaces and academic support which is why halls of residence were considered an integral part of student life and community. This system was easy to follow back then as just 55 students were offered admission in 1948. However, over the years, student enrolment expanded far beyond available bed spaces while hostel construction remained largely stagnant. Research by IFRA-Nigeria describes accommodation in the University as having “reached a crisis level” due to increasing admissions without a corresponding increase in housing facilities. Currently, the university enrolls between 33,000 to 36,000 students per session, comprising both undergraduate and postgraduate students. Despite the presence of twelve public hostels — 3 female hostels, 5 male hostels and 4 mixed hostels, their carrying capacity is barely 9,859 students out of over 36,000, which is a measly 27.39%, leaving the majority of students to fend for themselves. In some halls, rooms originally designed for four students reportedly ended up accommodating as many as fourteen (with squatters included).
This crisis did not arrive without warning. As far back as 2016, the Union of Campus Journalists reported that the demand for bed spaces had long outstripped supply, with admission figures rising sharply — from 2,839 newly admitted students in 2012 to 4,008 by 2016 — despite the absence of significant hostel development. Even the University’s own 2012 Annual Report, cited in the article, acknowledged that female enrolment had been increasing steadily while “the number of halls of residence remains almost constant,” promising the construction of additional hostels through private partnerships on a Build-Operate-Transfer basis. For clarity, the Build-Operate-Transfer (BOT) model is a public-private partnership or outsourcing strategy. A client hires a provider to build an asset, operate it for a set period to recover costs and make a profit, and finally transfer full ownership and operational control back to the client. More than a decade later, those promises, much like the water in Tunde’s dry tap, have been disappointing in execution. Most of the university’s hostel infrastructure was constructed between the 1950s and 1980s, with the most recent public hall dating back to 1998.
What emerged to fill the widening gap instead were private hostels. Private hostels like St. Annes’ Church Hostel and Imoran, which were initially just catering exclusively to female students, are now a sprawling and largely unregulated system that thousands of students are forced into not out of luxury, but necessity. Even the University’s Lodgings Unit which, through the University Student Lodging Bureau (USLB), should help students source accommodation outside campus, assist students in getting affordable and conducive accommodation, exists more in name than in practice, with no clear evidence of any officials actively overseeing its activities nor are students aware of its existence. This was also the University’s acknowledgement that it could no longer house its growing population.
Private hostels are marketed as modern, comfort-based alternatives to public hostels, with more stringent rules and significantly higher expenses depending on their maintenance and time of construction. Initially, only a few existed and they catered exclusively to female students, examples being hostels like St Annes Church Private Hostel and Imoran. Most of the private hostels built after then were still exclusively for females until a few years ago when hostels like Talents Apartments, CBN Hostel and Iyalode Taofeekat Hub brought up the innovation of mixed hostels, finally giving males the option of private accommodation. These hostels promise luxuries such as alternative power supply during blackouts, running water, better management, cleaner and more modern bathrooms, more aesthetically pleasing rooms, relative privacy depending on payment, and in some cases, solar power.
As appealing as these services sound, they do not come cheap. Currently, the lowest amount paid for accommodation in a private hostel is about ₦200,000, while the highest is about ₦1.7 million. This is outrageous when compared to the ₦60,000 paid in public hostels for an entire academic session — a stay that often extends deep into unofficial holiday periods. In contrast, some private hostels charge these exorbitant amounts for barely ten months of residence leading to cases where the residents have to pay much more than initially agreed. Examples being Talents Apartments and St. Anne’s Church Private Hostel where the students have had to pay a fixed amount of 45,000 and 40,000 for the period of the holidays without alternative power supply despite the staggering sums they had paid at the beginning of the session. Unfortunately, due to the minimal amount of bedspaces in public hostels, private hostels have morphed from luxury to necessity. It therefore becomes deeply disappointing when students pay such enormous sums only to receive not even a commensurate half of the services promised.
Electricity, as we all know, is a necessity in life, more so in tertiary institutions where productivity lies in power and especially in an age where most educational materials are stored on digital devices. Yet electricity blackouts are common to most of the private hostels as they are located in the Ring 5 axis. This often means they remain without power even when other parts of the University have enjoyed electricity for hours. During the 2024/2025 session, particularly in the second semester — blackouts became alarmingly frequent for residents in this area. As sad as that sounds, one would expect the alternative sources of electricity promised to these residents to come in handy, but as you can guess, they don’t.
The absence of electricity affects everything: studying, water supply, and the overall quality of life. One of the major services advertised by these hostels is generator usage during power outages. Sadly, many hostel managements appear far more interested in making grand promises than fulfilling them. Residents of Iyalode Taofeekat Hub, for instance, have repeatedly complained about irregular generator schedules despite prior agreements promising three hours of generator use daily. A similar issue exists in St Anne’s Church Private Hostel, where rent was increased with promises of extended generator hours, only for the hours to be reduced upon resumption due to claims like “diesel is expensive.”
For residents of Talents Apartments, the problem can sometimes stem from defaults in payment by the management, resulting in disconnection from the school’s electricity supply and forcing innocent residents to suffer despite paying more than enough. Meanwhile, residents of Engelbert Beyer Catholic Hostel Centre, UCH, have become so accustomed to power issues that blackouts every three to four days are normalised, with many unable to remember the last time they experienced stable electricity for an extended period. Not just that, they are currently plunged into perpetual blackout because of a recurring fault despite several troubleshooting attempts. According to a release by the UCH Students’ Association, it will cost ₦26 million to provide a long lasting solution to the problem affecting the electricity along the College of Medicine, UI, building and Catholic axis.
The absence of electricity often translates directly into the absence of water. Sadly, for residents of Iyalode Taofeekat Hub, the presence or absence of electricity has no effect on the availability of water. According to a correspondent, electricity could be on for five hours while water is pumped for only thirty minutes — nowhere near enough for residents. Worse still are periods when the hostel relies solely on generators, resulting in no water for days. In many other private hostels, it is common to see buckets lined up around inadequate tanks once there is a blackout. Ironically, students paid heavily for water to run directly into their rooms, yet they are constantly met with excuses such as “the generator cannot carry the pumping machine.” In CMF, residents are given a specific time frame during which water will be available, regardless of whether they are physically around at that moment. They are also prohibited from leaving taps open and risk fines if they do. The importance of water in daily life hardly needs to be emphasised, yet students in private hostels sometimes appear to have it worse than their counterparts in public hostels when it comes to access to water.
Every student wants leadership that listens to complaints and actively works to improve living conditions, or at the very least communicate when it is a problem beyond management’s power – which is a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, this is perhaps one of the most neglected aspects of private hostel management. Residents frequently complain about poor ventilation, mold-covered walls, drainage problems, inadequate fumigation, faulty facilities within rooms, poor cleaning standards, and persistent failures regarding electricity and water supply. One would expect the management to respond promptly, but students are often met with silence or temporary, ineffective fixes.
In an age where it seems Gen Z are the only generation particularly vocal about mental health, the management of many of these hostels appear completely indifferent to both the physical and mental wellbeing of their residents. From mold-covered walls and poor ventilation capable of triggering respiratory distress and allergic reactions, to the constant anxiety caused by threats of eviction whenever a student dares to speak up about issues they have every right to complain about, the disregard is glaring. Also pressing is the unsavory frustration students feel upon comparing the outrageous rent fees they pay to these private pockets to the ₦60,000 charged in public hostels, only to realise the difference in living conditions is sometimes barely noticeable. Worthy of note is how Engelbert Beyer Catholic Hostel Centre, UCH, charges approximately ₦450,000 per bedspace, ₦900,000 per room, and the residents’ new normal is going to the first floor to charge in an inadequate ‘common room’ that is solar-powered, but with charging outlets unlike in the rooms. The feeling of exclusion also weighs heavily on many residents on UI main campus as they watch different events and activities take place in public hostels while theirs remain relatively socially lifeless. Parents pay through the nose for these supposedly premium services, only to discover that what was advertised is far from the reality their children live in. Beyond discomfort, the persistent lack of electricity and water — alongside many of the issues already mentioned — can make it difficult for students to study effectively during examination periods, ultimately affecting their academic performance.
Even worse are cases of victimisation. Residents bold enough to speak up are sometimes threatened with eviction despite having paid in full. Some management resort to insults or intimidation rather than accountability. Long-standing problems are patched over instead of properly solved — mold-covered walls are painted over rather than repaired, leaking taps are tied with ropes instead of replaced, and students are treated like children, occasionally locked into compulsory “meetings” that could easily have been bare notices. Complaints often remain ignored until parents become involved.
At Engelbert Beyer Catholic Hostel Centre, UCH, a section of the fence facing the road reportedly collapsed, and, even 48 hours later, there were no visible signs of repair, reflecting an alarming disregard for student safety and welfare. This break in the wall directly leads to the Mokola-Total Garden road, which means that these students are prone to attacks from rascals roaming the streets in the dead of the night. The walls remained unfixed for three days, after which it was attended to and repaired. Time and time again, students’ cries fall on deaf ears until a new session begins and managements are once again ready to demand another outrageous fee increase — emboldened by the absence of any regulatory body capable of checking their excesses.
Beyond these major concerns, there are smaller but still significant issues. Public hostel curfews often extend till midnight, which is especially beneficial for medical students returning late from clinical calls. Yet many private hostels close as early as 10 p.m, showing little consideration for students attending events, or academic activities organised with public hostel schedules in mind.
Many private hostel residents also complain about the absence of shops and cafeterias — and where they do exist, they often operate inconsistently and offer substandard services. In contrast, public hostels typically offer multiple options that remain open late into the night. Privacy is another concern. Despite paying for supposedly premium accommodation, residents frequently experience hostel porters or officials barging into rooms without notice. Some hostels ban visitors entirely, while others enforce extremely restrictive visiting hours.
Even running for political positions from private hostels is an arduous task as they are often not taken seriously by opponents from their original portal-allocated halls. In the University of Ibadan, hall identity has long played a major role in campus politics, with halls functioning almost like political blocs during election periods. Residents of private hostels, however, exist outside this structure and are often politically isolated because they lack the collective identity and visibility public hostel residents possess. An article by UIMSA Press on private hostels and campus elections noted that many private hostel residents feel detached from the intense hall culture that shapes student politics in UI, leading to political apathy and reduced participation in campus elections. While hall residents bond over campaigns, rallies and support for aspirants from their hostels, many private hostel residents simply watch from a distance with little sense of belonging. This isolation weakens not only political participation, but also the collective voice private hostel residents could have used in demanding better welfare and living conditions.
Moreso, exclusion happens not just politically but in other aspects of campus life. They miss out on events like Jaw War, Hall Weeks, and even brand collaborations organised through the Student Union. Community life within these hostels is often almost nonexistent, with few activities designed to foster unity among residents. The discrimination during rallies and campus events is usually obvious and rarely addressed. On May 9, the Student Union reportedly distributed yoghurt from CWAY across several public hostels without visiting a single private hostel.
Currently, there is no university-managed regulatory body responsible for overseeing the prices charged by private hostels or ensuring that advertised services match what students actually receive. Regulation only becomes exercised when a certain university staff feels disrespected and students face victimisation or wrongful eviction at the Dean of Students’ Office — and even then, consequences for erring hostel owners are often minimal. This lack of accountability is exactly what allows these substandard conditions to persist year after year, unless a student is willing to pursue legal action.
It should not have to remain this way.
First, it’s a proof of inadequacy for the university to resort to certain partnerships to create more spaces for students. If we are going to be realistic and concede to the need for these partnerships, there should never be an excuse to keep admitting more numbers without regard for accommodation. Second, in the establishment of these private hostels, more attention should be paid to the building plan beyond courtesy visits to cut ribbons and clap hands. Correspondents confirmed that CMF hostel does not have a reading room or library. For a hostel without that, how does it serve the academic populace or mirror the structure of public hostels when there is an eventual transfer of ownership?
Also, the practically dead dedicated regulatory body should become functional in carrying out routine inspections of private hostels, regulating annual rent increments, and assessing whether hostel fees are justified by the quality of services provided. Hostel owners must understand that profit cannot come at the expense of the students under their care. Complaints and feedback should be taken seriously, and the culture of threats and retaliatory evictions dismantled entirely.
Beyond management practices, the infrastructure of these buildings also requires urgent attention. Proper planning before construction would help prevent the chronic ventilation and drainage problems affecting many hostels. Fumigation should be carried out regularly to eliminate rodents, pests, and stagnant water that breeds mosquitoes.
The recurring issues surrounding electricity and water supply equally demand long-term solutions rather than temporary excuses. Utility dues should be remitted promptly to avoid disconnections, and the persistent Ring 5 blackouts affecting the majority of private hostels in the area must be addressed urgently. The Student Union also has a role to play. Private hostel residents must be intentionally included in advocacy, represented during hall deliberations, factored into rally demands, and considered in the timing of events like Jaw War and music concerts. Hall executives should function beyond mere inaugurations and actively represent all students, regardless of residence.
Finally, students residing in private hostels can also begin building stronger communities amongst themselves. Organising events, creating social activities, and fostering interaction beyond online group chats markets should resolve the isolation many students experience. Alternative versions of hall weeks and community events could help remind residents that they are not alone. More importantly, unity would create a stronger collective voice capable of challenging exploitation and demanding accountability from hostel managements.
The long paragraphs and Instagram posts about how the existence of private hostels has eased the strain of numbers on spaces do not do justice to the actual statistics that matter. If over 70% of UI students are expected to pay hundreds of thousands for hostels that battle epileptic power supply and no running water, then the school is as good as non-functional. If a hostel like CMF is granted permission to accommodate students without a reading room/library when there’s a much later clause to transfer ownership to the university, then we are not serious enough with this public private partnership model. If certain management can threaten students that protest inadequate basic facilities, then the USLB should be checked. We have gone past the age of long paragraphs of golden history and photo ops of ‘ground-breaking’ partnerships. If we fail to uphold fairness, accountability, and proper standards even within the smaller systems directly around us, our endless complaints will continue to ring hollow.