The Short Semester: A Grand Illusion

 

The short semester is a master of disguise. It poses as a merciful break, whispering, “Relax, you have time.

Ayoolajesu Victoria Ojo

The semester is getting serious, but she still has the opportunity to flex a bit more. After all, this is the short semester - the darling of students, shorter and sweeter, with seemingly less to do. Sweet, yes, but only in the same way sugar is sweet before it wrecks your teeth.

It’s notorious for events - endless events. Dinners and award nights, symposia, campaigns and elections, conventions, weeks that weaken your academic zeal. Some students will attend more events than lectures and still wonder why their CGPAs mysteriously resemble the Nigerian economy. It's an uneven blend: academics mixed with vibes, countdowns competing with deadlines, serious study interrupted by "Item 7 is highly guaranteed".

The short semester is a master of disguise. It poses as a merciful break, whispering, “Relax, you have time.” Lecturers happily play along, cancelling classes without remorse, only to suddenly squeeze eleven weeks of work into five or less. Meanwhile, students act shocked, as though they didn't see it coming. Maybe the newbies didn't, body go tell them - either that or they read this article and be informed early enough.

Too many strands, pulling from different angles: assignments copied at midnight, group projects where only one person works, and exams announced like plot twists. And the truth is, the short semester doesn’t care; it simply runs, faster than a politician dodging accountability. One moment you’re flexing, the next you’re staring at a question paper wondering if you even registered for the right course.

The only ones that can escape are those running their last lap, but even they can be caught in this trap if they lose guard. Some of them are not so eager to leave anyway, they embody a reckless love for their faculty and cannot bear to part that fast.

They say time flies when you’re having fun. In the short semester, time flies whether you’re flexing, cramming, or praying for a miracle. Fun? Well, maybe. Survival? Certainly. Lessons learned? Absolutely not. See you next short semester - same chaos, same lies, same sweet illusion.


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