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FUTU MY FUTY OUR UNIVERSITY DAYS.

I stumbled on this picture, and I am flooded with alot of memories.

FUTY that humbled me, FUTY that tamed my wild spirit.
A school where you are only recognized if you are a GURU.
Any other one makes you dan iska( a loafer)

A school where nothing like handouts exists, our social life was zero.
A federal university you get approval from your department before you travel or miss lecture.

Before I got to Yola, I was of the notion that northerners don’t go to school and probably not intelligent, that I will go and ace all and become the best, the fulani’s burst my bubbles, most of them are as smart as they come.

I am not exaggerating, but whoever that passed and graduated from FUTY is principled, we live and abide by the rules.
A school where lecturers are sacked with any slight doubt of their integrity.
Where social gathering is seen as cults and where reading is the norm of the day.

You see that picture below, that is one of our Lecture theater’s, and that sight is very common, from the day of commencing to vacation day, that’s how students sleep in class to meet up with your GP.

I remember sleeping on hard desk with my almost due pregnancy to read, drinking concentrated coffee to stay awake, rushing home to brush and bathe and still come back to resume the same routine.

FUTY drilled us, mold us and made us.
I was not in the league of the gurus
But I turned out fine
I am proud to say, I never sorted one lecturer till I graduated.
I am proud to say no lecturer sexually molested me for marks.
I am proud to write that my alma mater gave me the best drill for a better future.
I gave my supervisor a tough time as a stubborn girl, but Sir I appreciate all your efforts.
I appreciate every Futyite out there making us proud, we may not have all the fun in school , but I know you are all reaping the benefits of hard work.

Long live FUTY.

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