Different Entry, Same Finish Line: Life as a Direct Entry Student at UNILAG

By  Esah Emem, Jacinta Emeka and Stanley Mercy

In a lot of ways, Direct Entry (DE) students are like people who show up to a movie thirty minutes late. By the time they find their seats in 200-level, the plot is already moving, the jokes have been established, and everyone else is already sharing popcorn. 

At the University of Lagos (UNILAG), being a DE student is a unique kind of hustle; it is about trying to fit into a system that did not wait for you to arrive. While the “regular” students are reminiscing about their 100-level GST 101 or 102 struggles, the DE student is just trying to figure out which floor of the Faculty of Communication and Media Studies they are supposed to be on.

“We come into a space where everyone already knows themselves,” says Abosede, a 200-level student in the Faculty of Social Sciences. 

For her, the hardest part was not the books, but the “social cement.” Most students have already formed their day ones during the chaos and shared trauma of 100-level registrations. By 200-level, friend groups are already locked in. 

For a DE student, walking into a lecture hall feels like being the new kid in a high school movie. It takes a lot of mental energy to break into those existing circles while simultaneously trying to navigate a faculty that feels like a maze. You are not just learning a syllabus; you’re learning a culture.

Then there is the UNILAG pace. For those coming from polytechnics or colleges of education, the academic jump can feel like moving from a steady walk to a full-on sprint. The Faculty of Social Sciences is legendary for its “reading culture” and massive classes where you have to show up an hour early just to find a seat where you can actually hear the lecturer. 

Honour, a 300-level student of Mass Communication who moved over from Yaba College of Technology, felt the pressure immediately. “The workload is much more intense,” she said. Between the heavy reading lists and the never-ending stream of assignments, the “fast life” of Akoka does not give you much of a grace period to find your feet.

If the classes do not get you, the logistics usually will. Since they are not “freshers” or final-year students, most DE entrants are at the bottom of the list for hostel slots. This means they automatically join the army of commuters. They spend their mornings battling the legendary Lagos traffic and their afternoons in the exhausting bus queues at the gate just to get home. 

By the time they factor in the surprise departmental dues and the cost of textbooks that seem to increase every semester, the first year becomes a masterclass in survival and extreme budgeting.

But there is an upside to starting late. DE students usually carry a bit more “street cred” and maturity. Because they have survived the tertiary system elsewhere, they often have a level of technical competence that their younger classmates are still trying to develop. 

Honour noted that her previous training gives her a level of confidence in practical tasks that makes group projects a breeze. She isn not intimidated by the system because she has seen a different version of it before. By the time the second semester rolls around, that “DE” label usually begins to fade. 

They find their rhythm, they find their tribe, and they prove that even if you start the race a little late, the goal is the same: excellence and a successful walk across that convocation stage.