By Sekinat Kassim

Every new academic session begins with fresh-faced students clutching admission letters like sacred scrolls, while we, the seasoned “fishers of men” stand at every strategic corner of the university, with nets fully spread and charged smiles.

You might think we are there, out of kindness. After all, who else will help a confused fresher locate the Faculty of Social Sciences when they are already halfway to the Zoo? Who else will carry their bags, orientate them and warn them against offending lecturers who detest latecomers? No doubt, we are the unsung ‘civil servants’ of the university ecosystem.

But let’s not be too emotional. This is not charity. This is strategy. You see, every fresher is a potential recruit. A blank slate. A soul yet to be properly “guided.” And what better time to guide them than when they are overwhelmed, disoriented, and desperately in need of belonging?

That moment, of course, is when we strike. Not aggressively, of course. We are civilized fishers. We begin gently.

“Welcome to the First and Best! Are you new here?”

Of course, they are new. The confusion in their eyes could qualify as an identity crisis. But we ask anyway, just to establish rapport. Before long, we are walking them to their hostel, helping them with registration steps we barely remember ourselves, and throwing around phrases like “family,” “community,” and “growth”. Ah, growth one of the five magic words on campus.

We present our organisation as the pinnacle of human development. Join us, and you will not just succeed academically, you will thrive spiritually, socially, politically, and perhaps even financially (terms and conditions apply). We don’t just recruit members, we manufacture legends.

Naturally, evidence must follow claims. So we parade our “records of achievement.” We name-drop alumni who are now “doing well” somewhere, whether or not they have spoken to us in years is irrelevant. We showcase pictures of past events, carefully cropped to exclude empty chairs. We speak with the confidence of people who have nothing to prove but everything to sell.

By now, the fresher is hooked. But catching the fish is only half the job. The real art lies in keeping it in the net.

Once they join, we introduce them to standards. Spectacular standards. Divine standards. Attendance is not optional, participation is not negotiable. And loyalty, which is a requirement dressed as commitment.

We subtly (or not so subtly) teach them that our organisation comes first. Lecture at 8 a.m.? That’s nice. But what about our 6 a.m. meeting where destinies are shaped? Assignment deadline? Important, yes, but have you considered the eternal value of attending our mid-week gathering?

Some of us are even bold enough to say it plainly. “Academics will take care of themselves.” A revolutionary idea, truly. Universities worldwide should consider adopting it. But we don’t stop there. Oh no. We are multifaceted fishers.

Beyond attendance and commitment, we also cultivate political consciousness. When the Students’ Union elections approach, we suddenly become very interested in “good leadership.” We organize discussions, share insights, and gently guide our members toward the “right” candidates. By “right,” we mean those who align with our interests.

Competence? Character? Vision? Those are nice bonuses, but let’s not complicate things. What matters is loyalty. After all, what is leadership without a strong support system?

And so, our members campaign passionately, sometimes without fully understanding why. They defend candidates they have never met and argue with a conviction that would impress seasoned politicians.

Critics might say we manipulate, brainwash, or exploit vulnerability. But critics lack vision. They do not understand the sacred duty we carry, the burden of sustaining our legacy. Because that is what our mission is really about.

We were once fishes too, you know. We too were Freshers, wide-eyed and eager, caught by those who came before us. They taught us the ropes, handed us the nets, and showed us where the fish swim. Now, it is our turn to continue the cycle.

It is not exploitation, it is tradition. And traditions must be preserved. So when next you see us at the beginning of a session smiling, welcoming, ever so helpful, do not be deceived by our generosity. Beneath that kindness lies calculation. Beneath that guidance lies a well-crafted system designed to catch them young.

We are not just helping students find their way. We are showing them where to belong. Of course, on our side of the net.

After all, what is a university without these organisations? And what are organisations without members?

So yes, we will continue to catch them young. Because in this ocean of uncertainty, every fisherman knows one truth. The earlier you cast your net, the richer your harvest.

ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

Sekinat Kassim is a 300-level English Language student, part-time tutor and part-time writer who loves reading novels at her leisure time.