Are We Learning or Just Complaining?- The Vet School Dilemma

 

The University of Ibadan campus reverberates with a symphony of professional complaining, a kind of victim mindset that’s become all too common in universities across Nigeria. Walk through any faculty, from Arts to Sciences, from Medicine to Engineering and you'll hear the same theatrical lamentations: "The workload is overwhelming,". It's as if Nigerian students have collectively enrolled in a Master's program in creative complaining.

But nowhere is this crisis more telling, than in the Faculty of Veterinary Medicine, where future doctors are learning to perfect the art of excuse-making while animals across Nigeria desperately need competent veterinary care. While these dramatic performances reflect genuine challenges, they often mask a reluctance to take responsibility and fully engage with the demands of their training.

What we're witnessing isn't isolated to one faculty or one institution, it's a national pandemic that threatens Nigeria's intellectual future.

The veterinary curriculum at UI faces a peculiar challenge: preparing students for modern animal healthcare while operating within Nigeria's resource constraints. Yes, the laboratories aren't Harvard standard. Yes, some equipment should have been replaced when way long. When the only functional microscope is older than some lecturers, students learn to make do, or better still, learn to make excuses. The difference between these responses determines who becomes a resourceful veterinarian and who becomes a perpetual victim of circumstances.

Complaints have become the unofficial major for students. A field they've mastered with remarkable dedication.

Here's where it gets ironic, even the students who excel are often found in these complaint sessions. Take for example, the student who recently won $1,000 for topping several subjects or the world veterinary student of the year, he complained about the same system and inadequate facilities as his other classmates. The difference isn't in the complaining, it's in what happens after the complaint session ends.

While some head home to Tiktok or endless social media scrolling, the “achievers” retreat to their rooms for the real work. They complain about the learning experience, then figure out how to complement with other resources. They grumble about the confusing situation, then create structures that help them navigate their way. They participate in the daily ritual of academic venting, but they don't let it become their identity or their excuse.

Everyone complains, but only few people work. The successful students have learned to treat complaints like a social ritual, something you do to bond with classmates, rather than a philosophical view that defines their approach to challenges.

This explains why some students thrive while others merely survive in identical circumstances. The student who graduated BGS didn't succeed because he had better facilities or easier lecturers, he succeeded because he had a clear vision of what he was doing.

Individuals without personal conviction are like cars without engines—they might look good on the outside, but they can't move forward under their own power. They depend entirely on external motivation: good grades to please parents, degrees to impress society, or certificates to secure employment. When the going gets tough, and it always does in veterinary medicine, these external motivators prove insufficient.

Veterinary practice in Nigeria won’t pause because you had a poor learning experience.

A cow struggling with dystocia won’t care that your Therio lecturer was unclear. A poisoned dog won’t wait because you didn’t enjoy your Toxicology notes. The profession needs vets who can think clearly under pressure, put one or two together, and make good decisions with the resources at hand.

Stop waiting for the system to be perfect. Your education is your responsibility. Yes, you can participate in the daily complaint ritual, prize-winning students does, but don't let it become your identity. Complain if you must, then get to work.

The choice is clear: survive Vet as a professional victim of Nigerian educational challenges, or thrive within it as an architect of your professional future and a testament to what's possible when personal conviction meets determined effort. The curriculum and facilities are the same for everyone. What differs is whether students choose to be defined by limitations or to define themselves through their response to those limitations.