back in the old days
I’ve decided chronology be damned, I’m going to back up a bit and fill in some details from the last 2 weeks. I’ll start where my Easter post left off: in Ife, at Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU).
OAU was formerly the most prestigious university in Nigeria (recently overtaken in the unofficial rankings by the University of Lagos, or “UniLag”). It was built in the 1960s, using cocoa money; this was prior to oil becoming the linchpin of the Nigerian economy. The plan was very novel for the time: faculty and staff housing on one side, students on the other, and they meet in the middle at the University campus. The architecture is all 1960s modern, with lots of tiers and covered walkways leading from one building to another. You’re constantly going up and down levels.
The library (above) is imposing. The central auditorium (below) is probably the most striking building.
It’s impressive, but it’s also incomplete; there are multiple buildings where construction appears to have just stopped. And everything is in desperate need of repairs and a coat of paint. One of the professors I was talking to who grew up around the university lamented the fact that it has gotten increasingly run down over the years. It used to be nicer.
On a broader level, this is a sentiment I’ve heard from many Nigerians: things used to be better. Over the last 30 years—since oil became the cornerstone of the economy—things have gotten worse. This applies to neighborhoods, infrastructure and other social services, as well as schools. Government revenue has skyrocketed, but the money doesn’t make it into the hands of…well, anybody other than a few kleptocrats. Everyone else suffers from bad roads, limited electricity, and declining schools.
Traveling here, the difference between the very rich and the very poor is the starkest I’ve seen anywhere. Driving into the central islands in Lagos from the city outskirts, you travel along bridges that pass over the most miserable slums: wood plants and rusted aluminum siding, the smell of smoke and waste is literally nauseating. While next to you on the road are BMWs, Lexuses, Mercedes heading to extravagant, air-conditioned homes, hotels, restaurants, and malls. Meanwhile, the (already small) middle class struggles to keep its head above water, constantly frustrated by—but also strikingly resigned to--the government lining its own pockets, rather than helping the country.
(the OAU resident bats)
OAU was formerly the most prestigious university in Nigeria (recently overtaken in the unofficial rankings by the University of Lagos, or “UniLag”). It was built in the 1960s, using cocoa money; this was prior to oil becoming the linchpin of the Nigerian economy. The plan was very novel for the time: faculty and staff housing on one side, students on the other, and they meet in the middle at the University campus. The architecture is all 1960s modern, with lots of tiers and covered walkways leading from one building to another. You’re constantly going up and down levels.
The library (above) is imposing. The central auditorium (below) is probably the most striking building.
It’s impressive, but it’s also incomplete; there are multiple buildings where construction appears to have just stopped. And everything is in desperate need of repairs and a coat of paint. One of the professors I was talking to who grew up around the university lamented the fact that it has gotten increasingly run down over the years. It used to be nicer.
On a broader level, this is a sentiment I’ve heard from many Nigerians: things used to be better. Over the last 30 years—since oil became the cornerstone of the economy—things have gotten worse. This applies to neighborhoods, infrastructure and other social services, as well as schools. Government revenue has skyrocketed, but the money doesn’t make it into the hands of…well, anybody other than a few kleptocrats. Everyone else suffers from bad roads, limited electricity, and declining schools.
Traveling here, the difference between the very rich and the very poor is the starkest I’ve seen anywhere. Driving into the central islands in Lagos from the city outskirts, you travel along bridges that pass over the most miserable slums: wood plants and rusted aluminum siding, the smell of smoke and waste is literally nauseating. While next to you on the road are BMWs, Lexuses, Mercedes heading to extravagant, air-conditioned homes, hotels, restaurants, and malls. Meanwhile, the (already small) middle class struggles to keep its head above water, constantly frustrated by—but also strikingly resigned to--the government lining its own pockets, rather than helping the country.
(the OAU resident bats)
posted by Emily at 5:29 PM
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