With much feeling, the average Zikite tends to vent proudly that being a member of the Nnamdi Azikiwe Hall, the greatest hall in sub-Saharan Africa, the political headquarters of UI, the terror of the field, the hall that sneezes and UI catches cold…is the best part of their University life. Rightly so. To quote Lekan Akinosho, “Zik hall has remained a colossus, towers above other halls, enjoys a prominent position among its peers and reverberates as the nerve center of UI.”
Several present-day facts attest to this much acclaimed Zikism feeling. Politically, the hall has the most occupiers of executive posts at the Student Union level; last session, Zik hall brought to live the popular line of its anthem, “undisputed UI sports king”, by winning the Inter-hall football competition; it’s exuberant social spirit energetically invoked in its gyration sessions is unmatched by any other hall; the expression of its ideal of oneness, togetherness and brotherhood is metaphorically consolidated in the much anticipated ewa night; and its titillating hall week that leave the campus community mesmerized.
All these and other indicators has earned it respect from surrounding halls, buttress the hall’s quality of greatness, and even endeared us with most of the females (even if they have reservation for the extreme aroism). It is what infuses in all its members the confidence to declare; I am a proud Zikite!
But Zikites today probably find it hard to relate with this feeling of pride. The reasons are not scarce. See it this way. You got up one evening feeling all bubbly. Too excited to sit in your room, you head to B Block basement. And, yes, the drums are beating there, the chants are loud, gyration is in full swing. You join this jocund group, danced your heart out, aroed some girls and ululate till late at night.
After you’ve shared the grace of Baluba in the communion of the Zikism spirit, you return to your pitch dark room in A block’s second floor. You grope your way to your corner, check your phone to see that you have 2% battery power left and pick up your power bank. But it has no power, so you drop it. You hiss painfully, step out of the room, lean against the railings and wonder thoughtfully how life in Kuti hall must feel, where the hall is lit with power supply.
But this is only a shade of the grey problems of living in Zik hall. You’ll know that because, no electricity supply means no water supply. No water supply means more unwashed bodies, undone laundries and unflushed toilets. So, you venture out of Zik hall and scavenge. Not even the elders hold on to the Zikism pride as most Zikites pick their buckets, throw on some braggado and make the trip to our neighbours and close rival – Indy hall. More tragic is the fact that the water problem does not fizzle out when power is supplied. We still cite problems of faulty pump machines,
Still, this isn’t the worst. Even when you watch painfully as halls of residence in the school area get power supply while you can only wait anxiously and shout ‘ẹmuna lọ’ or ‘Adebọwale oo’ every now and then. And yet, it is not the worst. Zik hall witnessed the worst when a few days ago Zik hall stood out in pitch darkness as the only hall without light. Although, the relentless efforts of the hall management and executives are lauded, it is difficult to stir up the much-glorified spirit of Zikism, bear proudly the Zik identity of greatness or push the narrative of a magnificent Baluba kingdom when these basics are hard to come by.
