One of the most common complaints heard in Nigerian universities today is, “My supervisor has not been available.” It appears in conversations among postgraduate students, social media posts, and even formal petitions. While some complaints are undoubtedly justified, the narrative often presents only one side of a much more complex relationship. Missing from the public discourse is the reality that many academics are themselves overwhelmed by institutional demands and, increasingly, by subtle forms of emotional guilt tripping deployed by students.

The supervisor-student relationship is built on mutual responsibility. A supervisor is expected to guide, critique, encourage, and ensure that a student’s research meets acceptable academic standards. The student, on the other hand, is expected to demonstrate initiative, diligence, and respect for professional boundaries. Unfortunately, this balance is gradually being eroded as some students reduce the relationship to one in which the lecturer is expected to be perpetually available, regardless of competing obligations.

Contemporary communication technologies have inadvertently fuelled this expectation. The widespread use of WhatsApp, email, and instant messaging has created the illusion that lecturers are always within reach. A message sent at midnight is expected to receive an immediate response. A document forwarded on Friday evening is expected to be reviewed before Monday morning. When these expectations are not met, some students resort to emotionally loaded statements designed to evoke guilt rather than understanding.

Statements such as “Sir, I have been depressed because you have not replied my message,” “My graduation depends on you,” “My family is waiting for me to finish,” or “You are the only obstacle left” may appear innocent, but they often function as emotional pressure tactics. Instead of acknowledging that supervisors also have professional and personal commitments, such expressions subtly transfer the entire burden of academic progress onto the lecturer.

Ironically, many of the delays attributed to supervisors originate elsewhere. It is not uncommon for students to disappear for several weeks or months after receiving corrections, only to return with urgent pleas that deadlines are fast approaching. Some submit poorly written chapters requiring substantial rewriting, yet expect feedback within twenty-four hours. Others fail to keep appointments, ignore previous corrections, or repeatedly recycle the same errors. When the consequences of these actions become imminent, the narrative suddenly shifts to the familiar refrain that “my supervisor has not been available.”

The reality of academic life in Nigerian higher institutions is considerably more demanding than many students appreciate. A single lecturer may simultaneously teach undergraduate and postgraduate courses, supervise dozens of research projects, mark hundreds of examination scripts, attend departmental and faculty meetings, conduct research, publish scholarly articles, examine theses in other universities, perform administrative duties, participate in accreditation exercises, mentor junior colleagues, and undertake community service. These responsibilities exist alongside family obligations and the inevitable challenges of everyday life.

The problem is compounded by the severe shortage of academic staff in many public universities. Student enrolment continues to increase while recruitment often remains stagnant. Consequently, one lecturer may supervise far more students than international best practices recommend. Under such conditions, occasional delays in providing feedback are almost inevitable. They should be understood within the broader institutional context rather than interpreted solely as evidence of negligence.

This is not to suggest that all supervisors are beyond reproach. There are academics who unnecessarily delay students’ work, fail to honour appointments, or provide inadequate supervision. Such conduct deserves criticism because it undermines academic excellence and students’ confidence. However, fairness demands that the shortcomings of a few should not become the basis for stereotyping the entire academic profession.

Students also have a responsibility to cultivate professional etiquette. They should give supervisors reasonable time to review submissions, avoid sending repeated reminders within short intervals, schedule appointments respectfully, and appreciate that quality supervision requires thoughtful reading rather than hurried comments. A supervisor who carefully reviews a chapter over several days often contributes more meaningfully than one who returns superficial comments within a few hours.

Higher institutions themselves must equally play their part. Universities should establish realistic supervision workloads, recruit more qualified academic staff, provide administrative support, and develop clear timelines that define the responsibilities of both supervisors and students. Such institutional reforms would reduce unnecessary tension and create healthier academic relationships.

Also in the equation are the parents who now interface with lecturers more commonly than experienced in the past. Parents now call or appear in offices to plead with lecturers or to threaten them. They are either around with gifts which are presented with emotional dramas and narratives such as “I have been the only one taking care of him and his four siblings”, or, at other times, they boastfully remind you of who they know in the government house or your Senate Building and what their network is capable of doing to you. Meanwhile, such parents do not even know whether their children attend classes or perform expected school tasks. Parents who have children in higher institutions should note that they have a role which goes beyond providing needs.

Ultimately, the statement “My supervisor has not been available” should invite reflection rather than immediate condemnation. Behind every delayed response may be a lecturer balancing multiple classrooms, countless scripts, numerous supervisees, committee meetings, research deadlines, administrative assignments, and family responsibilities. Academic supervision is not a customer-service relationship where availability is measured by online presence. It is a professional engagement that thrives on patience, mutual respect, shared responsibility, and realistic expectations.

If Nigerian universities are to produce quality scholarship, both students and lecturers must resist the temptation to weaponise emotions. Empathy should flow in both directions. Just as supervisors should recognise the anxieties associated with students’ academic journeys, students must equally acknowledge that the individuals guiding them are not merely supervisors but human beings navigating demanding careers within an overstretched higher education system.

(c) 2026 Ganiu Bamgbose writes from Lagos.