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THE REALITY OF THE NIGERIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM.

Audu Chima Bankole was a very intelligent student when he was in the university. This fact was not alien to him. But in the end, not even his certificate could testify to that.
Here was a man who would wake up every morning with a stiff neck, stiff with pride. He would carry his head so high all day like one suffering from a strained neck. Now, what was left of him was a husk of what was once human, once a graduate.

"Excuse me, but didn't you see the new advert that was printed in the newspaper?" That voice, the voice, it was like a hand which drove and twirled a cold sharpened blade constantly in his pride, deflating it. Every time Mr. Bankole recalled the voice, he felt the twisting and twirling of the blade in the tissue of his soft heart.
The truth was, Mr. Bankole had not seen the new advert that had been printed in the newspaper. "Excuse me, but." Twirling. How could he? He had just graduated from the university and was searching for his first job. Can such a person afford the luxury of buying newspapers? "Excuse me." Twirling.
The pang of the twirling steel inside his suffering heart was driving him raving mad. His pride was now like a deflated balloon. "Excuse me but didn't you see the new advert that was printed in the newspaper?" He was silent, hoping the silence would seem he had.
Well, the advert, when he finally saw it, said only graduates with a first-class or second-class upper degree would be considered.
Sitting back now- still unemployed, he clearly recalled that cursed day, one of many to come. He clearly remembered swallowing back the hiccup. He remembered how his stomach had churned with hunger. He had had no breakfast that morning, couldn't afford it actually. Yet, the worse part was, his body had betrayed him. In his rush, he had forgotten to visit the loo. The more he recalled, the more he wondered. After all the previous day's only meal had been so meager that it could not have produced enough grist for his bowels to work on. The rumbling noise made by his empty stomach was like the noise of a steam-engined train rushing through a dark tunnel. His life was like that dark tunnel. His degree below second-class made sure of this.
The experience of Audu Chima Bankole is the experience a Nigerian graduate who leaves University with anything below second-class routinely goes through.

What is happening today in Nigeria is appalling. There is a disregard for graduates with third-class

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