Convocation crowd: Why Babcock University should do better, by Wale Fatade

I joined parents and well wishers yesterday at the convocation ceremony at Babcock university. It was my first time of entering the institution and while its ambience and aesthetics are fantastic, the management of the ceremony leave a lot to be desired. It affirmed again, why meticulous planning is essential to success.

First, organising a ceremony for nearly 4,000 graduates on a day solely in a campus the size of Babcock will task even the highest celestial beings. As we turned off the Benin-Ore expressway on the road to the school gate, our nightmare started. This was few minutes after 8am, movement became nearly impossible. Added to this were the psychotic driving of those without lane discipline, and the impetous driving of our so-called VIPs blaring sirens. Both sprinkled more agony. Fortunately, this was curtailed by some traffic orderlies, definitely one of the best things about the day.

We asked my friend and his wife to go down at the gate so that they don’t miss the commencement of the ceremony, while the rest of us continue the journey. There were tricycles and motorbikes to convey people to the venue, mercifully. Nearly 30 minutes later, we entered the school but nowhere to park. While we saw plenty spaces to park, red tapes prevented us. The only thing the attendants muttered was, “You’re can’t park here,” and kept directing us to nowhere in particular. Without directions on where to pack, I knew instinctively that our exit would be chaotic. And it was, extremely chaotic.

But Babcock at least got one thing right, they moved the ceremony to the school’s stadium thereby averting the potentials of exhaustion and suffocation. There were also an ambulance, mobile toilets, and sachet water for those who wanted. The good things ended there. Only two screens were provided for those of us under the tents after the stadium was occupied by majority of the graduands, VIPs, and some guests. The intermittent audio and visual loss compounded our pain. No provision for fans too,with the tropical sun at its peak.

We endured the tortuous ceremony and settled down to the sumptuous meal we brought. Jollof rice, pepper soup, fish, and coleslaw. I ate well as I knew the journey out of the campus was going to be agonising. And it was. Someone had the sense of mind to direct us to take the teaching hospital road out and that eased things a bit. It was then we discovered that many parked their vehicles outside, by the road down to the expressway. That was the easiest bit, the greater torture laid ahead.

After few minutes on the expressway, a member of our party who left earlier called that we should take the Ilisan road to Iperu and link the Lagos-Ibadan expressway. Time then was already after 6pm, we had no choice but to turn back. The Ilisan-Iperu axis was a bedlam when we got there and the snacks-for-the-road provided succour and a stimulating diversion from the rigours of driving on the road.

I still love the university and I think they’re doing well gleaning from the VC’s address, but one thing remains: spread the convocation days. And that would be all. I also love the fact that a retired teacher was given a honorary degree, good enough that he’s an Ekiti man from Ipoti Ekiti, making him one of my in-laws. Many grades higher on my in-law scale than Bamidele Johnson definitely. By the way, your cleaning staff deserved a huge raise, I don’t envy them cleaning up today.

While I missed Azafi Omoluabi whose daughter graduated too, it was nice seeing Baba Ksk Adeyemi and mama. The chaos and heavy food prevented me from reaching out to Wale Adenaya, the Oluko Agba of Ijebuland.