A lot has changed in our educational system

I was a stranger to my father's house. I gave a half smile to Danny, the boy who helped him with chores around the house as he took my bag enthusiastically and sprinted into the house before I could warn him to be careful with it.

Source
I walked in through the sitting room to the back of the house where I knew my father would be, catching a glimpse of Danny as I walked past.

“Hope you didn't throw my bag on the floor?”

“No, Auntie. I kept it gently on the bed” I nodded with satisfaction then headed out to meet my father.

He was seated with his back to me, swiping his local hand fan continuously. I could see that gray hair had overtaken his once jet-black hair, giving me an uneasy feeling in my stomach. My father was now an old man.

I walked around the chair till his black eyes were staring into mine.

“Good evening, Daddy” I genuflected briefly. As oddly as that looked, my father's face relaxed into a fond smile and he held his arms out for an embrace. I made sure to detangle myself the minute our bodies touched.

“How was your trip?” His voice too had become croaky. I had an unsettling feeling about the entire visit.

“It was fine Daddy. The roads are much better now” he nodded his head in agreement.

“They are still working on it. Hopefully, by the end of this year, we will have good roads in this community”

I gave a weak smile in response. We sat like that in silence. I pretended to be rummaging through my handbag for my phone when I knew too well that it was in the carry-on that Daniel had dropped in the room.

I could tell that he was regarding me. Perhaps, he too was feeling like a stranger because the last time he saw me, I was not this blooming woman before him. I was a scrawny teenager seeking his approval to study Theatre Arts at the university.

“How is school treating you?” His voice was quiet, just above a whisper.

I shrugged. I didn't know what to say about how I was being treated by a Nigerian university. It was supposed to be the same everywhere.

“It's stressful as normal daddy”

He shook his head.

“Stressful as normal? What do you mean by that?”

“First off, everything is expensive. Food, hostel space, transport, materials, and whatever you can think of”

He was nodding in agreement then shook his head afterward.

“Then they make simple registrations and stamping of documents difficult for students too, especially Theatre Arts students. As if we have to suffer to become educated…”

My father raised his brows as if he was hearing such a thing for the first time.

“Interesting!” He cut me off there. I thought he was going to make a snide remark about the course I was studying but he began with something else. “I cannot even relate to what you're talking about. During my days, students were treated as gods. If anyone made up their mind to be educated, there was huge respect following them. Both from the lecturers and other members of the community”

I let my mind go on a trip to our faculty administrative office, imagining that woman with an afro wig smiling at me and telling me in a polite voice that I was welcome to see her. My father's voice shook me back to reality.

“The only disadvantage we had was that we barely had the resources to study despite the zeal. No teachers, no books, no internet. And that's what you guys are enjoying now, so you people have no excuse! It's just unfortunate that everything is on the rise financially. Otherwise, your generation should enjoy school the most”.

For once, my father and I seemed to agree on something important. I too, had once sat down to reason that if the processes of registering for even the smallest of items such as a library card could be made easier, students would get these important documents sorted. Instead of leaving them undone and having issues during their final-year clearance.

“Those people should set structures in place to make it easy for you people,” my father was saying, “The country is already tough as it is. Making things tougher for children will just increase the frustration people face”

“That's why many people begin school with zeal and end up dropping out, even when they have the money”

My father released a deep sigh and shook his head once more.

“God will definitely help you”

“Amen,” I replied. That conversation seemed to lighten the air because we stayed out there gisting till late at night before retiring back into the house for dinner.