Lambasted Emeralds: How Our Precious Stone Became A Pebble…
By ‘Joba Ojelabi
Love, like many other issues of the heart, is a complex yet simple phenomenon. There have been many schools of thought that have come to state that its control is not totally with man: That we cannot decide who or when to love, it just happens. And indeed, I remember that in my years in the Obafemi Awolowo University, never had I seen so many people love one lady so and interestingly, it was for no good reason. Jacob Oluwatosin had come to contest for office at a time when even the walls did not know her name. She had been a representative of the Faculty of Law at the Hallowed Chambers before then but only few cared to know, not when her competition were both former officials of the Hall Executive Council. However, it would seem that all she needed to do to change the mind of the great Ife was hold the microphone at Oduduwa Hall. Interestingly and very unusually, I was unable to attend the Debate of the elections that brought in the people’s precious stone but even I began to notice the unusual surge that came in her polls immediately after the Debate. I do not know what she did or did not say but whatever it was, it worked so well that Emerald did not have to do anything after that event; not even say a thing at the manifesto declaration. The chants of her name were everywhere and at some point, speculations started to come that this was no ordinary love and although I might not agree with whatever context the speculations might have risen from, only a fool would have disputed that that love was not extraordinary.
I have seen leaders fail, I have seen leaders succeed but only a few have I seen that truly stood out at the job. Many have asked what has brought about my catholic silence on the current leadership of the Obafemi Awolowo University Students’ Union and my response has remained fairly the same: There is so much noise and so little talk. Somehow, we never truly let people fail before we call them failures. Even though the temptation to jump into that conclusion is quite high but these days, everybody wants to talk and nobody want to listen. It’s why idealists would in their surreal perspectives grow so distant from reality that they become the very opposite of it. But maybe another day, I would share my thoughts on ideals and their realistic workability. For today, like many others, I just want to try to understand how a precious stone became a pebble that the very ones who used to polish now walk upon.
A whole semester happened and we would not here anything major from the Vice President. All we would know were a stale Fresher’s week and a couple of bland articles. But even they were pardonable, after all, power did need some adapting to. But then a bottle broke and along with it a couple of hearts, not just because our gracious lady had come to level of bottle brawls and things of the sort but also for the detestable photographs of her battery that accompanied that event and then we happened; the gentlemen of the press seeking another juicy story. Amidst all of the plenty stories that surfaced, we never really could find the truth but one thing is apparent from the events that followed: In all the lambasting that happened at the Students’ Union Building that night, there was only one victim. The question then remains who the victimizer was: Herself or him?