LEGISLATIVE SYCOPHANCY : The Bola Ahmed Tinubu University Debacle (Part 1)
A Parody by Dr. Iyke Ezeugo
In the revered tradition of Aristotelian wisdom, where virtue is found in balance, I once held high hopes for the 10th Assembly, particularly the House of Representatives and its leadership, to champion rational governance. But alas, their recent escapades have left me bewildered. The breakneck speed and prioritization of the bill to establish the Bola Ahmed Tinubu Federal University of Nigerian Languages has me questioning the very foundations of our democracy.
It’s as if the hallowed halls of legislation have devolved into a theater of flattery, where reason, wisdom, and matters of urgent public importance take a backseat. Plato’s cautionary words in _The Republic_ resonate loudly: the dangers of allowing those driven by flattery, not purpose or philosophy, to take charge. Who would have predicted that Nigeria’s House of Representatives, once a bastion of democracy with esteemed leaders, would morph into a circus of sycophants? Bills like the Bola Ahmed Tinubu Federal University now pass with alarming ease, reminiscent of popcorn at a pantomime.
Renowned scholars like Sir Prof. Charles Ukeje and many others have voiced their disappointment at this gross misplacement of priorities. For the uninitiated, sycophancy is excessive or insincere flattery possibly aimed at currying favor from those in power. In Nigerian parlance, it’s more colorfully known as “bootlicking” or “eye-service.” Legislative sycophancy takes this a step further, where elected lawmakers dedicate themselves to flattering the executive like court jesters before a monarch, effectively elevating this to a form of worship.
In our case, the separation of powers is no longer a constitutional principle but a discarded suggestion. The current House of Representatives, led by Speaker Tajudeen Abbas, has 55 standing committees chaired by opposition party members. Yet, the prioritization of bills like the Bola Ahmed Tinubu Federal University raises questions about the true motives at play.
Anyway, the definition of sycophancy, for those unfamiliar, is excessive or insincere flattery, usually aimed at gaining favor from someone in a position of power. It’s a polite word for what we often call “bootlicking” or “eye-service” in more colorful Nigerian parlance. And legislative sycophancy? Well, that’s a rare art form where lawmakers, elected to represent the people, instead dedicate themselves to flattering the executive like court jesters before a monarch. In our case, they elevate this to a form of worship, where the separation of powers isn’t so much a constitutional principle as a suggestion they tossed into the legislative dustbin.
The Curious Case of Bola Ahmed Tinubu University
To set the stage for this academic farce, the bill proposing the creation of the Bola Ahmed Tinubu Federal University of Nigerian Languages has already passed its first reading, by their body language. Sponsored by the Deputy Speaker, Benjamin Kalu, and eight other lawmakers—who presumably believe Nigeria’s current crises aren’t quite urgent enough—this bill seeks to establish a university to promote Nigerian languages and culture. Now, who could argue with preserving our culture, you ask? Well, no one, except perhaps the 140 million Nigerians currently grappling with joblessness, lack of access to basic amenities, and, oh yes, economic hardship so biting it’s left many wondering if the price of bread will soon eclipse the minimum wage.
The proposed university is to be named after none other than the current president, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a figure of great influence, not unlike Zeus atop Mount Olympus, with lawmakers serving as his acolytes. While the exact location of this grand institution remains undisclosed, it’s expected to sprout somewhere in Lagos, perhaps on the sacred soil where Tinubu once ruled as governor, or wherever the sycophants deem it most fitting for political advantage. It’s almost as if the entire project is less about education and more about—dare I say it—idol worship.
If not, why not?
– Is Nigeria lacking in universities?
– Is there surplus revenue to meet the needs of existing universities?
– Is it impossible to adjust their curriculums to offer more Nigerian Languages?
As of 2024, Nigeria has a total of 264 universities, including 43 federal universities, 48 state universities, and 173 private universities. This demonstrates a significant shift towards private-sector involvement in higher education, as private institutions now form the majority.
The cost of funding federal universities remains substantial. In 2023, the federal government allocated ₦400 billion to these universities, but estimates suggest that they require more than ₦1 trillion annually to function optimally. The funding shortfall affects critical areas such as infrastructure, research, staff welfare, and general upkeep.
The question at the moment is whether Nigeria should continue establishing new universities or focus on adequately funding and upgrading existing ones. Establishing a new federal university typically costs between *₦50 billion and ₦100 billion*, which raises concerns about the Federal House of Representatives’ push to establish a new university named after Ahmed Tinubu. Critics argue that this is an example of legislative sycophancy, as it diverts limited funds from addressing the pressing needs of existing universities that are already struggling due to underfunding.
Of course, not all universities in Nigeria offer courses in indigenous languages like Yoruba, Igbo, and Hausa. There is no doubt about the fact that these languages are essential for preserving Nigeria’s cultural heritage, but promoting their study should be a higher priority than expanding the number of institutions.
The public is really concerned whether the Leadership of the House of Representatives is getting its priorities right. This concern is heightened by the fact that quality education is not a product of the sheer number of institutions, or the sychophantic dressing of the University with the president’s brand of political agbada and designed cap, but of *proper funding, modernized facilities, and adequate staffing at existing universities.* Rather than spreading resources thin by establishing new ones, Nigeria would benefit more from enhancing the quality of education in its current universities. The push for a new university named after Ahmed Tinubu, therefore, seems more like a politically motivated move rather than a step towards improving the nation’s educational system.
*Why Build a new University When we have more than 43 federal universities and the Nation unfixed?*
In a country where infrastructure crumbles, and education has become more of a theoretical exercise than a tangible reality, one would think the government might focus on actual progress rather than creating shrines of sycophancy. But no. *Nigeria, like Sisyphus pushing a rock uphill, seems condemned to repeat the same mistakes. Instead of reforming our tattered education system, plagued by strikes, underfunding, and incompetence, we’re creating new monuments to our political demigods.*
The question remains: can this bill be considered legislative sycophancy? Absolutely. It’s a textbook case, where the lawmakers, perhaps suffering from amnesia or apathy, decided that naming a university after a political figure, perhaps their godfather, was more pressing than addressing the chronic underfunding of Nigeria’s education system or the fact that we are teetering on the edge of an economic abyss. One can only imagine the university’s future motto: *Flatter to Prosper*.
*A Parliament of Praise Singers*
What happened to the days when lawmakers would challenge the executive, hold them accountable, and pass bills that actually benefit the people? Well, those days are now appearing to be long gone. Today’s legislature is beginning to look more like a mere rubber stamp, where critical national issues like electoral reform, healthcare, and national security take a backseat to symbolic gestures that flatter the powerful. In this grand theatre of sycophancy, the lawmakers act more like praise singers at a chieftaincy coronation than the serious stewards of democracy they’re meant to be.
Take for instance the long list of urgent issues that remain untouched: from the reintegration of children affected by conflict and insecurity, to the urgent need for reforms in Nigeria’s solid mineral, oil and gas sector, to the glaring gaps in our healthcare system, and to agricultural revolution and food security. These issues, while screaming for legislative attention, have been shoved aside in favor of dedicating an entire university to one man—a living man, mind you, and one whose legacy is still being, shall we say, *debated*.
The 10th Assembly’s priorities seem utterly misplaced, don’t they? Instead of tackling Nigeria’s economic woes and fuel subsidy removal, they’re busy naming a university after Ahmed Tinubu. It’s like they’re competing in a “sycophancy Olympics,” where the gold medal goes to the most outrageous display of bootlicking.
I mean, what’s next? The Buhari Bridge to Nowhere? The Osinbajo Overpass to Oblivion? These aren’t just ridiculous names; they represent real projects that divert resources from pressing issues. The term “bridge to nowhere” isn’t new; it’s often used to describe projects that serve low-population areas at high costs or are left uncompleted due to various reasons.
Renaming the national assembly complex after Ahmed Tinubu might just be the next logical step in this trend. But let’s not forget, effective governance requires transparency, accountability, and the rule of law. Citizens have the power to demand better.
*Philosophy Meets Farce: What Would Socrates Say?*
Socrates, had he been resurrected in the hallowed halls of the Nigerian National Assembly, would no doubt be bewildered by what passes for governance. In his time, he was executed for corrupting the youth of Athens by asking too many questions. Today, our lawmakers face no such threat. Asking questions is not in their job description. They’d rather flatter and fawn, never mind that the youth they’re meant to protect are increasingly disillusioned and disenfranchised. This entire episode reeks of historical irony. If ever there was a moment to invoke Machiavelli’s *The Prince*, it’s now. According to Machiavelli, a ruler must be feared or loved to maintain control, but our lawmakers have added a third option: flattered. Indeed, if Tinubu’s reign is to be measured by how thoroughly his ego has been polished, then perhaps this bill will be the crowning achievement of his presidency. What better way to entrench yourself in the annals of history than by having a university named after you while you’re still in office?
*The Rubber-Stamp Legislature: Wasted Potential*
Had the House of Representatives directed its energies toward meaningful reforms—such as improving Nigeria’s floundering education system—they might actually earn their keep. But no, they have chosen sycophancy over substance. There is an entire laundry list of issues demanding legislative intervention: real electoral reform to deal with the growing issues of electoral fraud, healthcare reform, failed insurance sector, security sector reform, economic diversification, and so on. The creation of the Bola Ahmed Tinubu University isn’t even a drop in the bucket. It’s more like a drop in the desert—where it promptly evaporates.
As Nigerians suffer through one crisis after another—be it banditry, inflation, hunger, or the incessant strikes by university lecturers—our lawmakers have made their priorities clear. Education for the masses? Not so much. Elevating political figures to quasi-mythical status? Absolutely.
*Can We Blame Them?*
To be fair, perhaps we should have seen this coming. Legislative sycophancy isn’t new. It’s the same tragicomedy we’ve seen play out in countless governments throughout history, from Ancient Rome to modern-day autocracies. Power attracts flattery like moths to a flame, and those in power for the sake of being in power rarely mind. The real tragedy is the opportunity cost—the bills that could have been passed, the reforms that could have been made, had the lawmakers focused on the people’s needs instead of their political benefactors.
*In Conclusion: A Nation on its Knees*
As we wrap up this first part of our parody, let us not forget that the sycophantic behavior on display today will have lasting consequences. By prioritizing empty gestures and political symbolism over substantive reforms, our legislators are abdicating their duty to the Nigerian people. What we need now isn’t more universities named after political figures, but genuine leadership, meaningful reforms, and a legislature that remembers its responsibility to the people—not just to the president.
But alas, this is just the opening act of a much larger tragicomedy. For in Part 2, we shall choose between these two options: (1) delving deeper into the mechanics of this grand performance—how political favors are traded like tokens at a carnival, how sycophancy becomes the currency of power, and, most importantly, how the people’s cries for meaningful change are drowned out by the deafening applause of flattery or, (2) some solid examples of what the House of Representatives could focus on to be more useful to the people they represent, in case there are short flow of ideas.
Stay tuned, for the curtain has only just begun to rise.
_Dr. Iyke Ezeugo is a Forensic Researcher, a Social Impact Expert, and Satirist who uses his perspectives and parodies to challenge the status quo, spark debates, and inspire fresh perspectives on public affairs through insightful intellectual injections._
