The Unspoken Price of Success in Nigerian Higher Education -By Abdulsamad Danji Abdulqadir

Nigerian universities were built on a simple promise: that knowledge, character, and hard work would shape the future of the nation. From lecture halls in Zaria to campuses in Nsukka, Ilorin, Kashere, and Calabar, students arrive with the same expectation study hard, earn your grades, graduate with dignity. Lecturers, in turn, are expected to assess fairly and guide students with integrity.

But for many students, this promise nolonger feels secure.Across Nigerian campuses, there is an uncomfortable truth that is rarely spoken about openly. Stories move quietly from hostel rooms to corridors, from whispers among friends to warnings passed down to younger students. Stories of lecturers who demand money, gifts, or sexual favors in exchange for marks, project supervision, or protection during examinations. These stories are seldom written, rarely reported, and even more rarely punished yet they are widely known.

Transactional relationships between lecturers and students have become one of the most damaging, yet least confronted, problems in Nigeria’s higher education system.

At the center of this crisis is power. Lecturers control continuous assessment scores, examination scripts, project approvals, and sometimes the difference between graduating on time and being stuck in the system for years. In an environment where carryovers, extra years, and delayed graduation are constant fears, that power can easily be abused. Many students comply not because they are immoral, but because they feel trapped, scared, and without options.

Economic hardship deepens the problem. Nigerian universities are underfunded, and many lecturers struggle with poor remuneration, delayed salaries, and limited research support. While financial difficulty can never excuse exploitation, it creates an environment where unethical behavior is sometimes rationalized. On the other side, students facing poverty, family pressure, or the fear of repeating courses may see transactional arrangements not as success, but as a painful shortcut to survival.

The most disturbing form of this abuse is sexual exploitation. Despite official policies against sexual harassment, students  particularly female students  continue to report cases of coercion disguised as relationships. In reality, when one person controls another’s grades, genuine consent becomes almost impossible. What should be a safe academic space becomes one filled with fear, silence, and emotional trauma.

The consequences are everywhere. Academic standards suffer as grades lose their meaning. Employers begin to question the quality of Nigerian graduates. Society pays the price when institutions reward manipulation instead of merit. Beyond academics, many victims carry emotional scars long after leaving school scars made worse by shame, silence, and institutional indifference. Too often, universities protect their image by quietly transferring offenders instead of holding them accountable.

What allows this crisis to survive is silence.

Students fear victimization, blame, or being labeled difficult. Reporting systems are weak or not trusted, and disciplinary processes are slow and opaque. So many students choose endurance over exposure, while perpetrators grow more confident.

Lecturers are not just employees; they are mentors, role models, and custodians of knowledge. When they abuse their position, they betray not only their profession but the future of the nation. Students, too, must recognize that participating in transactional relationships even under pressure  damages the integrity of their education and devalues their certificates.

For many students, this experience changes how they see university life. They attend lectures not just to learn, but to watch for signs of favoritism or hidden expectations. Every submission, every consultation, every interaction carries a quiet question: What will be expected of me beyond academics?

The damage goes far beyond individual campuses. When grades can be bought or coerced, trust collapses. Merit loses value. And the moral cost the slow erosion of trust between students and lecturers  leaves wounds that cannot easily be measured.

Recent stories from campuses across Nigeria, with UNILAG often in the spotlight, show that transactional relationships are no longer just whispers in the shadows. They are part of the lived reality for some students. In these moments, education stops being a pursuit of knowledge and becomes a negotiation  a fragile game where learning takes a back seat to survival.

If Nigerian universities are to reclaim their credibility, integrity must be non-negotiable. Education should never come with hidden demands, and no student should ever have to pay for grades with money, fear, or dignity.