For three years after secondary school, Oyiza Rhoda Adinoyi watched her peers move on to university while she stayed behind, not for lack of ambition, but for lack of money.
Higher education, for her, was never guaranteed. It was postponed, uncertain, and fragile.
Today, she stands as a First-Class graduate of History and International Studies at Prince Abubakar Audu University (PAU), Anyigba, with a CGPA of 4.93—breaking a 25-year academic record in her department before the age of 23.
The achievement is striking not only for its rarity, but for the conditions under which it was earned.
Born into a family with limited means and no history of university education, Oyiza learned early to treat schooling as a privilege rather than an entitlement. That belief would later become her anchor. When she finally gained admission into PAU after years of delay, the struggle did not end at the gate.
University life arrived with tuition bills, accommodation fees, and daily survival costs that consistently outpaced her income. During some semesters, her entire upkeep amounted to ₦15,000. Meals were rationed carefully; sometimes stretched across days, sometimes replaced entirely.
“There were nights when garri was all I had,” she said quietly. “Hunger was part of my reality.”
Yet hunger did not become her excuse. It became her discipline.
Unable to afford many recommended textbooks, Oyiza turned to online journals, shared materials, and relentless self-study. She read widely, researched independently, and learned to prepare ahead, often studying from morning till evening because there was little else she could do.
Academically, the results were relentless. Semester after semester, she remained at the top of her class, recording perfect GPAs in five sessions and steadily approaching a departmental record that had stood for a quarter of a century.
The pressure extended beyond finances. In a department where leadership roles were often contested, Oyiza served as a course coordinator and encountered resistance from some peers who questioned her authority. She chose composure over confrontation.
“I never saw myself as competing with anyone,” she said. “My only competition was who I was yesterday.”
There were moments when continuing seemed almost unreasonable. At the start of her second year, she had ₦1,300 to her name.
Relief came through an unexpected intervention when a department alumnus recommended her for a scholarship, linking her to Mr. and Mrs. Emmanuel Idayi of the HillCity Foundation.
The support covered her tuition and essential academic expenses, providing stability at a point where the margin between persistence and withdrawal was dangerously thin.
“That intervention came when I needed it most,” she said. “It gave me the breathing space to focus.”
Mentorship also shaped her journey. Dr. Danladi Abah mentored her throughout her undergraduate years, opening doors to scholarly platforms, supporting her engagement with the Lagos Studies Association (LSA), and facilitating the publication of her first sole-authored academic paper in Agidigbo: ABUAD Journal of the Humanities.
She also received guidance from Professor Patrick Ukase specifically in relation to her membership and delegate responsibilities at the Historical Society of Nigeria (HSN) @70 Congress, further exposing her to the broader academic community.
Through these opportunities, Oyiza chaired conference sessions, built scholarly networks, and gained early experience in academic publishing milestones many students reach only in postgraduate years.
Her passion for History and International Studies sustained her discipline. To her, the field is not about memorising dates but understanding power, identity, and continuity.
“History explains why societies are the way they are,” she said. “It teaches you how the past keeps speaking to the present.”
She extended this belief beyond herself by founding Rhogerian Historophiles, an informal tutorial group where she supported classmates and junior students, reinforcing her own learning while helping others navigate the same academic pressures she faced.
When she eventually graduated as the best student in her faculty and shattered a 25-year departmental record, the moment carried less triumph than reflection.
“A First-Class degree is not a reward,” she said. “It is an eligibility. It opens doors, but you still have to knock.”
Oyiza’s story is not exceptional because it denies hardship, but because it confronts it honestly.
In a country where delayed education, financial instability, and unrealised potential define many student experiences, her journey offers neither fantasy nor false hope—only proof that discipline, support, and persistence can still bend the odds.
“Your circumstances,” she said, “do not define the size of your dreams.”
