I read with keen interest the article titled “The weird ways of university supervisors”, written by Levi Obijiofor and published in The Sun newspaper of Tuesday, 19 November 2019. Today, I am responding to that article to draw attention to the fact that not all university supervisors deliberately disrupt or hinder the progress of their PhD students.
I was fortunate with my PhD supervisor.
Initially, I registered for my PhD programme at the University of Jos and the supervisor assigned to me had informed me that I must read and summarise 100 books. The odyssey of the 100 books ended six years later and I had not written a page. He refused to accept any written material until I submitted the summary to him. He did not specify the books I should read.
In 2004, my father passed on. Back to Ibadan. I met the then Head of Department, late Dr. Jide Malomo, who informed me that my Master’s degree in International Law and Diplomacy would not be accepted as a basis for admission into the PhD programme. He attributed that decision to university policy. If I wanted to register for another Master’s degree, he said he would be ready to accept me as a student.
In 2004, the Master’s degree was extended from a period of 12 months to 18 months. It was fun commuting from Jos to Ibadan. There were no kidnappers and murderers on the roads. However, I met many policemen who wondered and asked why I drove a small Volkswagen Golf automatic. The Master’s programme was 18 months of arduous course work. One of our lecturers was Professor Lanre Bamidele who taught us Research Methodology. Incidentally, he supervised my thesis. At the end of the Master’s programme, as I prepared to return to Jos with my young family, Professor Bamidele called me aside and said: “Jude, you are likely going to make a Distinction in the Master’s programme. You will qualify to proceed to the PhD. Do not waste the opportunity.”
I told him I was happy to hear that but I was not emotionally strong enough to start looking for a supervisor. He laughed and said: “Agenebode man, think about it and if you want to do the PhD, I will supervise you”. I thought he was joking because I knew that he had about 15 candidates he was supervising.
A day after the results were released in September 2005, I bought the application form to apply for admission into the PhD programme. I met another hitch. The Postgraduate School refused to sell the forms until they received a letter from the Head of Department. Professor Bamidele produced the letter. With forms purchased and tuition fees paid, Professor Bamidele and I set about drafting the terms of how we would work together. He told me he knew I had a young family and that meant I would be working from Jos. He said I should feel free to send my work to him by email or courier so he could read and return his feedback to me.
It was his prodding that made me to start writing in earnest because whenever he called, I wanted to have something ready to tell him. It was during the process of writing the Literature Review that I knew how “special” Professor Bamidele was. He would call and ask: “Have you seen this book? Did you cite this authority? Are you familiar with the writings of XYZ?”
On his own, he would locate someone that had the book and direct me to the person. At the university library, he personally sourced many journals, photocopied some articles, and kept them for me. Sometimes he would ask the librarian to keep the articles. Whenever I travelled to Ibadan, Professor Bamidele would tell me to go and meet with someone in the library. He said the person would give me this or that. Professor Joseph Umukoro of the University of Uyo would bear me out on this. He had some journals that Professor Bamidele asked me to get for my work. He located Professor Umukoro but it was my responsibility to find out how to get copies from Professor Umukoro. Within 14 days, I received the much-needed articles.
In 2010, on my way back to Nigeria from the US where I had a three-year summer stint at the Kennedy Center, Professor Bamidele called and asked me to go to Ibadan urgently. For him to say “it was urgent” meant it was really, really urgent. The Postgraduate School was in transition from manual to digital records. I was affected and strangely delisted from the PhD programme. I was shattered. I was angry. I had paid my fees faithfully.
Professor Bamidele had told me before the Kennedy Center programme in 2009 that we should start preparing for my defence by 2011. Here I was, delisted from the programme. The journey from the Postgraduate School was like trekking from Ibadan to Agenebode. He was in Nasarawa.
He allowed me to cry, swear and curse. He then pointedly told me: “We are going to re-apply.
We have four chapters. It will be a waste to stop this work. Go and buy another set of forms.”
That was how I spent the next one week in Ibadan trying to buy new forms, get them signed and submitted and start life again as a ‘digital student’. Professor Bamidele called me and characteristically said: “We have more time to revise what you have already written but get me your Chapter Five and let me read the entire work.” He had retired from the university but got a contract with Nasarawa State University, Keffi. I will not go into the politics of promised contracts at Ibadan, Ife, Nasarawa, etc. But he ended at the university in Nasarawa. He said:
“Now I am near to you in Jos, so you have no excuse. We will re-write all your chapters. We have the next three years. The only thing: pay your fees regularly and update your records at the PG School and we should defend in 2016.” My work was never late. Professor Bamidele read my chapters on time.
Professor Bamidele is not your usual supervisor. He is an embodiment of humility and diligence.
He was quite helpful, going out of his way to ensure the success of his student. To the best of his
ability, he worked at your pace. If he asked you to come to Ibadan, he would be offended if you did not stay in his home. He took it personal. He would always say things like, “put your money in your project, come and stay with Mummy and I.”
That was how a generation of us got to know his immediate and even extended family and he knew almost all the family members of his PhD students. He was our quintessential teacher, mentor, and the ultimate supervisor.
I have told myself that the day I would return to teaching, Professor Bamidele’s standards would serve as my benchmark. I doubt if anyone of us could look back and say he treated us badly or cruelly. He was kind. Thank you, Professor Bamidele. You are certainly an exception.
• Dr Patrick-Jude Oteh is Artistic Director, Jos Repertory Theatre, Jos, Plateau Staten