Ranting Out on the “Watt” Problem

You guessed right if you thought this topic resonates with the eternal opener from our beloved COMPSSA Welfare Committee, or perhaps your mind wandered to Lady Whistledown from Bridgerton, where “dearest gentle reader” introduces society’s gossip. Except here, the voice behind this writing is far less gentle, especially when it comes to those relentless power outages.

Flashback to fresher’s orientation when seniors advised, “Bring power banks.” I thought, It can’t be that bad.” Spoiler alert: IT IS.

Welcome to the College of Medicine, UNILAG, where erratic power supply is not a once-in-a-while diagnosis but a next-to-everyday reality.

The Cooking Catastrophe

Picture this: you’re in the hostel kitchen, rice bubbling, stew simmering with high hopes. Ten minutes to glory—BAM! Outage. Now you’re staring at a half-cooked tragedy while hunger strikes hard. And if, like me, you planned to save a percentage of your allowance, congratulations, you’ve just found a strong weapon fashioned against it. Go and purchase that takeout.

Then there’s the heat. When the power cuts, the room transforms into a sauna from the underworld. Are you trying to study pathology or anatomy notes? Good luck focusing when you’re wiping sweat every second, feeling like you’re melting in this Lagos oven. Thank God for portable fans, small mercies in this great distress. The solar reading rooms offer a glimmer of hope, but they’re usually packed. Extensions connect like lifelines as everyone scrambles to charge devices before the next blackout.

The Water Workout

Let’s not forget the cardio session nobody signed up for. When power is lost, water becomes a treasure. Suddenly, everyone has a pile of buckets, and you’re fetching from ground-floor tanks while half of it spills from exhaustion. If you’re lucky enough to be around when an outage strikes, you bolt to the bathroom, scrambling for the last drips before they disappear.

And there’s dressing up

Sometimes you rock an unironed scrub, lab coat, or clothes that scream “survival mode”, silently praying no one side-eyes you in class. You start hunting for polyester that doesn’t wrinkle because practicality now outranks aesthetics. These small things pile up quietly, draining confidence before the day even begins. In all of this, schedules crumble, and a discombobulated student emerges, one already battling academics, now wrestling electricity’s epileptic supply. This goes beyond flexibility; it crosses into frustration that shreds morale and pushes already stressed students toward burnout. Sometimes it isn’t one big problem, it’s many small ones.

A Necessary Clarification

Shoutout to the Student Welfare Committee; you are not the villains here. NEPA wears that crown. Those 2–3 hour generator runs in the morning and night? Lifesavers when grid power fails. Truly appreciated. The almost immediate WhatsApp updates, even if we joke that there’s a template for light outage announcements (especially the part where we’re thanked for our “patience and understanding”), show accountability and care. There is just one appeal: can the generator hours be extended?

So, fellow NUNSA warriors… How are you faring in this lights-out battlefield? Are we surviving, or merely coping?

Author: Adeotun Dorcas

Editor: Deborah Rabiatu