By Àkànní Olúwaségún Michael
If the leadership of the University of Ibadan Students’ Union were to step behind John Rawls’ famed “veil of ignorance” where decision-makers design policies without knowing their own position in society, one wonders if they would still consider programmes like the “One Day President” a priority for fresh students.
To understand why the “One Day President” initiative feels out of touch with the current realities of University of Ibadan freshmen students, it is important to trace its origins. The idea is not new, nor is it unique to UI. It reveals a political tradition that prizes symbolism over substance, a culture Nigeria’s political class has mastered and passed down, even into student leadership spaces.
In 2001, the then First Lady of Lagos State, Oluremi Tinubu, through her New Era Foundation, introduced the “Spelling Bee Competition.” Beyond promoting academic excellence, the competition offered its winner the ceremonial title of “One Day Governor.” This gesture, intended as a motivational tool for young students, quickly became a yearly event, celebrated in the media as a sign of youth inclusion in governance.
Without addressing systemic obstacles to youth leadership or resulting in long-term political engagement, it gave young people brief moments of prominence. It was not a means of achieving significant representation, but rather a skilfully constructed photo opportunity. For a day, the youth are permitted to don the sash of authority, but they are prohibited from participating in decisions that will impact their future.
Today, the Covenant Odedele-led Students’ Union has adopted this same playbook. By incorporating the “One Day President” into Freshers’ Week, the Union replicates a model of tokenism that distracts from the deeper crises fresh students face.
Freshers’ Week serves as a soft entry point for political pacification. It shapes new students’ perceptions of unionism as entertainment rather than activism. Rather than introducing freshers to the history of students’ struggles for free and accessible education, unions often prioritize welcome parties, beauty pageants, and novelty football matches. These activities are sold as platforms for social integration, yet they often function as distraction machinery, detaching the freshers from the harsh realities of the university system. Rather than using the Freshers’ Week to introduce students to the core struggles of unionism,such as resisting fee hikes, fighting for better learning facilities, and defending student rights,the focus drifts towards pageantry.
Students, right from their first week, are subtly conditioned to see unionism as an extension of social events rather than a tool for systemic agitation. Issues like funding cuts, hostel shortages, and exploitative policies are barely discussed. By the time these students realize the harsh realities of their educational journey, they are already trapped in a cycle of apathy.
Originally designed as a gesture of youth engagement, the initiative has become a theatre of empty symbolism. Student union executives promote it as a way to “inspire leadership,” yet it serves no meaningful purpose beyond staged photo-ops and social media content.
Meanwhile, the core issues of student welfare, academic infrastructure, and effective representation remain glaringly unresolved. Fresh students are left to grapple with the harsh realities of a disjointed academic support system, overcrowded lecture theatres, and hike in tuition fees.
One of the most immediate concerns is the sudden change in the grading system, which now imposes stricter performance thresholds without corresponding academic support. This abrupt change has amplified academic anxiety, leaving many freshers confused and vulnerable. Compounding this is the introduction of new courses and an increase in course unit loads, stretching students thin across multiple fronts. Rather than being eased into university life, freshers are thrust into a high-pressure environment with little institutional cushioning.
For a fresher already battling adjustment struggles, adapting to a new academic culture, managing time, navigating bureaucratic bottlenecks, these changes are more than administrative tweaks. They are systemic obstacles that shape the trajectory of their university experience. Yet, these pressing issues receive little to no attention from the Students’ Union leadership, whose energies are instead channeled into orchestrating symbolic programmes like the “One Day President.”
Rather than confronting the university administration with the pressing academic and welfare challenges that deeply affect students, the Students’ Union executives opt for the more convenient path of indulging in ceremonial spectacles. This mirrors the broader socio-political culture in which youth representation is often reduced to tokenism, hollow exercises that create the illusion of engagement without any meaningful structural change.
The absence of critical interrogation from student leaders has allowed this initiative to take root in university governance spaces, further normalizing tokenism as leadership.
The critical question remains, “how did student leaders, particularly SRC members, become so desensitized to the hollowness of such initiatives? The answer lies in their increasing disengagement from their core mandate, representation and accountability.
Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of this charade is the muted response from the Students’ Representative Council (SRC). As the supposed legislative arm of student governance, the SRC is tasked with the responsibility of providing checks and balances to the executive and championing student interests. Yet, on the matter of the “One Day President,” their silence has been deafening.
This silence is not a passive oversight, it is active complicity. Much like Nigeria’s National Assembly, where lawmakers often choose to cozy up to the executive for personal gain, SRC members have increasingly prioritized personal ambitions over their duty to the students they represent. By failing to challenge the relevance and impact of this initiative, they betray their mandate and endorse the very culture of performative politics they ought to resist.
Several SRC members see no issue in the parade of symbolic presidencies, so long as it offers them proximity to the university administration and a share of the limelight. This opportunistic detachment from their responsibilities shows the larger Nigerian political culture, where representatives are more loyal to political godfathers than to the electorate.
In choosing silence, the SRC allows the erosion of the Students’ Union’s credibility. Their failure to question initiatives like “One Day President” signals a dangerous normalization of tokenistic leadership.
