Ph.D (In View): The Road to Recognition Without Achievement -By Prince Charles Dickson, Ph.D (Not in View)

There’s a peculiar sickness that has gripped our dear Nigeria, one that doesn’t cause fever or headache, but swells the ego faster than garri in hot water. My brother and friend, full professor. (not in view) Chris Kwaja, recently wrote on his Reflections—“Nigeria and the obsession with titles. What title is Ph.D in view?” It was one of those posts that stab the conscience but tickle the ribs at the same time. When I saw it, I called him—“Chris, my brother in view, and we had an extensive conversation on how we got here.

We both laughed, sighed, and asked the same question: Who should we blame? The Mallam in view or the system that is viewing him?

Let’s not pretend—we are a title-loving people. From “Honorable” to “Engineer,” “Chief,” “Alhaji,” “Evangelist,” and now, “Ph.D (in view).” Somewhere in this jungle of academic aspirations, we have turned “in view” into a permanent residence. In Nigeria, once you start your Ph.D, even if you haven’t finished your proposal, you have earned the social right to update your WhatsApp bio to: Dr. (in view).

And woe betide you if you forget to add it in your next conference attendance tag, how else will people respect you? You cannot just be “Mr. Okoro.” God forbid! You must be “Dr. Okoro (in view).” Even if the view is still in the far horizon like the Mambilla Plateau seen from Wukari.

Once upon a time, we went to school to learn. To read, to think, to expand our minds, to pursue knowledge for its own sake. Now, education is a fashion show. The Ph.D gown has become agbada for intellectual owambe.

Back in the day, we used to say “He is a scholar.” Now, we say “He has a Ph.D.” The difference? The scholar reads, the Ph.D poses.

The road to the doctorate, which should be a lonely and rigorous journey of research and reflection, has turned into an expressway of certificates-for-sale. Somewhere in the crevices of our educational system, PhDs are being issued faster than sachet water. For the right price, you can get your “Doctorate in Leadership and Transformational Strategic Governance” from a mushroom university that doesn’t even have a functioning website.

It used to be cars, then houses, then foreign trips. Now it’s a Ph.D. And like all Nigerian status symbols, it’s not the substance that matters, it’s the show.

At weddings, people now introduce themselves like this:

“Distinguished ladies and gentlemen, permit me to recognize the presence of Dr. (in view) Mrs. Amina Bala Mohammed, who is currently rounding off her thesis on ‘The Impact of Instagram on Marital Fidelity in Gombe Metropolis.’”

We clap. We nod. We smile. We have normalized mediocrity dressed in regalia.

Meanwhile, some of the most intellectually stimulating people in the room may not even have a Master’s degree. But they don’t count because in our society, knowledge without a title is like soup without salt.

Let’s be honest; the problem didn’t start with the Ph.D hunters. The system created them. Our institutions have replaced scholarship with certification. We worship paper, not ideas. We have built an economy of degrees instead of an ecology of learning.

We judge competence by the length of titles on letterheads. You can’t be appointed a consultant unless you have a Ph.D. Even if your field experience could fill ten libraries. We are quick to say, “We need qualified people,” when what we really mean is “We need titled people.”

It’s the same disease that makes a Nigerian pastor add “Dr.” before his name because his congregation will give more respect/and more offering/if he is a doctor. It’s why political appointees get honorary doctorates the moment they assume office. And it’s why you’ll see billboards reading:

“Congratulations to His Excellency, Dr. Chief Hon. (Ambassador Extraordinary) Senator Engineer Pastor Prince Alhaji Barrister (Ph.D, DBA, JP, OON) on your well-deserved appointment.”

At this point, even angels in heaven are confused.

A friend once said the only thing longer than a Nigerian Ph.D journey is the Lagos traffic. Both are full of bumps, frustration, and constant viewing without arriving. But unlike traffic, most people never get to the destination.

We all know someone who started a Ph.D in 2010 and is still “in view.” If you ask, they’ll tell you, “I’m finalizing my chapter four.” Chapter four has now become the Bermuda Triangle of Nigerian academia—many enter, few return.

And those who finish sometimes emerge with theses so shallow they couldn’t fill a teacup. Yet, we celebrate them with convocation ceremonies, hire them to teach others, and call them “Dr.” without blinking. The system claps, the Mallam bows, and mediocrity gets a standing ovation.

Somewhere between our obsession with titles and our neglect of substance, we lost the essence of scholarship. A real scholar is a servant of knowledge. He doubts, questions, argues, and refines ideas. But today, our so-called academics spend more time forming WhatsApp groups for “PhD in View Scholars Association” than reading or researching.

The university, which should be a temple of ideas, has become a marketplace of CV-padding. Supervisors are overworked, underpaid, and sometimes underqualified. Universities are underfunded, libraries are understocked, and plagiarism is under-punished.

In this chaos, the “in-view” culture thrives.

So, back to my conversation with Chris. Who do we blame—the Mallam in view or the system that is viewing him?

The truth is, both are guilty.

• Mallam AbdulBalogun Chukwudi wants quick validation without the pain of learning.
• The system rewards quantity over quality.
• The society worships titles, not contribution.

We have created an ecosystem where you can’t be heard unless you prefix your name with “Dr.” So everyone rushes to get one; legit or otherwise. The irony? The more “Doctors” we produce, the sicker our intellectual health becomes.

 “Wanting recognition without achieved target,” I told Chris, “the Ph.D is on the road.”
We laughed—but it was a bitter laughter. Because truly, that’s where many are; on the road, seeking applause for a race they haven’t finished.

In a saner clime, the title “Doctor” carries weight. It means years of disciplined inquiry, contribution to knowledge, and mastery of a field. You are a global citizen! In Nigeria, it often means you survived university bureaucracy, paid your dues (literally), and printed a thesis few will ever read.

Our Ph.Ds are on the road because we have turned learning into logistics. We move from one seminar to another, taking selfies with PowerPoint slides, quoting Paulo Freire without understanding him, and uploading certificates online as if they were badges of sainthood.

What we need is a cultural reset, a return to scholarship for its own sake. We must make it cool again to read, to think, to question. To pursue the doctorate of thought, not just the doctorate of title.

Supervisors must demand rigour, universities must reward originality, and the government must fund research as a national priority, not a luxury. Above all, society must learn to respect knowledge—whether it comes with a title or not.

Until then, “Ph.D (in view)” will remain our new national joke—an endless highway of ego, where everyone is viewing and no one is arriving.

So, to “Mallam in view,” I say:
May your view one day become clear.
May your thesis find coherence.
May your supervisors reply your emails.
And may your defense be less terrifying than our economy.

But until then, my people, let us remember:
A true scholar does not need to shout “Dr.” before wisdom speaks.

Postscript:
If you see me anywhere and I sign “Prince Charles Dickson, Professor (in view),” please slap me gently back to reality—because I, too, am a Nigerian—May Nigeria win!

For God, For Humanity and For Country