We Do Not Walk Alone

There are moments in life when something happens and, suddenly, you begin to look backwards. You remember the people who opened doors for you, those who believed in you before you were confident enough to believe in yourself, the teachers who noticed something in you that you did not yet see, and the supervisors and colleagues who guided you at important moments.

I have been thinking about these people a lot lately. A colleague is about to begin his journey as a Vice-Chancellor, and that moment has made me reflect on my own journey. When I look back, I realise that none of us arrives at a position of responsibility alone. Long before the title, the office and the responsibilities, there are people whose encouragement, corrections, sacrifices and examples help prepare us for the journey.

We do not walk alone.

 

My journey began long before I became a professor or Vice-Chancellor. My primary school teachers believed in me. My secondary school teachers and principal encouraged me. My street brothers and sisters, neighbours, family members, friends, members of various associations, classmates, alumni groups and religious communities all played a part in shaping who I have become, often in ways I did not fully appreciate at the time.

Looking back, I realise that mentorship was happening around me long before I knew to call it mentorship. Some people mentored me deliberately; others taught me simply by the way they lived.

Some mentors are with us. Others live in our memories.

A few days ago, I lost someone who played an important role in my journey, Alhaji Nurein Oganla. His passing has shaken me deeply. He exposed me to the field of software development while I was working with him on the hardware side. That experience broadened my understanding of technology and helped me appreciate the relationship between hardware and software.

At the time, I probably thought I was simply working and learning. Today, I realise I was also being mentored.

That is the beauty of mentorship. Sometimes, you do not appreciate its full value until many years later. A conversation, an opportunity or an experience can quietly influence the direction of your life.

Alhaji Oganla is no longer here for me to call or seek advice from, but something of him remains in me. Perhaps that is one of the deepest meanings of mentorship. People may leave us, but what they plant in us can continue to live.

My supervisors taught me differently

My undergraduate project supervisor showed me extraordinary brotherly care. He was concerned not only about my project but about me as a person. My master's supervisor was approachable, easy-going and generous with his guidance. My PhD supervisor was supportive and fatherly, and his guidance shaped my academic career significantly. Over time, the relationship became much deeper than supervision; I became his adopted son.

Each of them taught me differently. One showed me care, another demonstrated accessible guidance, and another helped shape my academic direction. 

Together, they taught me that mentorship does not have one shape. One mentor may open a door, another may give you confidence, another may challenge you, and another may simply stand beside you when things become difficult.

At the Federal University of Technology, Minna, I had the privilege of working with four Vice-Chancellors. Each administration exposed me to different approaches to leadership, management and institutional responsibility. Since becoming a Vice-Chancellor myself, I have also had the opportunity to work with three Council Chairmen and Pro-Chancellors, in both acting and substantive capacities. Each relationship has added another dimension to my learning.

The higher you rise, the more you should recognise how much you still need to learn.

 

 Even as Vice-Chancellor, I still need mentors

Becoming a Vice-Chancellor did not end my need for guidance. If anything, it made that need more obvious. I have continued to encounter people who are willing to advise me, challenge me, encourage me and provide perspective when I need it. Some of these people have even worked with me within the University.

I value people who can look at me and say, “Have you considered this?”

 

Leadership becomes dangerous when everyone around you is afraid to speak honestly. You need people who will tell you what you need to hear, not only what you want to hear.

Sometimes, the person who gives you that perspective may be younger than you, junior in position or someone you never expected to become a mentor. That is why I have learned to remain open.

What are we planting in others?

As I reflect on all these people, I find myself asking a different question: If so many people have planted something in me, what am I planting in others?

If people once believed in me, whose potential am I believing in today? If someone once opened a door for me, whose door am I opening? If someone gave me a shoulder on which I could stand and see beyond myself, whose shoulder am I becoming?

These questions matter greatly to me as a Vice-Chancellor because leadership is not only about managing an institution. It is also about developing people. It is about creating opportunities, sharing knowledge, allowing others to lead and preparing people to eventually stand without you.

Sometimes, the journey comes full circle

Some of the most touching reminders of this have come from the most ordinary encounters.

I once stopped at a filling station and had a brief conversation with the attendant. That small interaction eventually became a bridge to Summit University, where she began her undergraduate journey. At a mechanic workshop in Ibadan, a young artisan attended to my car. Today, he is pursuing a degree in Accounting at Summit University, Offa.

I have also taken a taxi whose driver's son is now rounding off his undergraduate studies at Summit University. On another occasion, I gave a family a ride along the road. Their little daughter was simply a child travelling with her parents that day. Today, she is pursuing her undergraduate studies at our University.

 

These moments touch me deeply because they remind me that a simple interaction can sometimes open a door to a new beginning. At the time, I did not know where those encounters would lead. Yet, in one way or another, those moments became part of a journey towards higher education.

For me, Summit University has also become a shoulder on which I have continued my own journey, a place where I have had the privilege to learn, serve, lead and grow. Just as the University has provided a platform for many young people to begin their journeys, it has also provided a shoulder for me to continue mine.

Perhaps that is why these encounters mean so much to me. They remind me that we are all, in one way or another, helping one another find the support from which to begin, continue and rise.

These are not just enrolment stories. They are deeply personal reminders that people carry our encounters with them. Sometimes, a brief conversation, a small act of kindness or an open door can become part of someone's journey in ways we may never fully see.

To my colleague becoming a Vice-Chancellor

As a colleague begins this new chapter as a Vice-Chancellor, my strongest advice is simple: learn, listen and make mentoring a deliberate part of your leadership.

You will meet people who know things you do not know. Some will understand the institution better than you initially will. Some senior academics will have experiences that can save you from unnecessary mistakes. Some younger colleagues will introduce ideas that may not yet be on your radar. Some administrators will understand systems that you are only beginning to appreciate.

Listen to them.

 

Your position may make you the Chief Executive and Academic Officer, but it does not make you the only person with wisdom. Build a circle of people who can guide you. Find those who will tell you the truth respectfully and challenge you without undermining you. Learn from others, and become that kind of mentor for those coming behind you.

Because one day, you will no longer be the Vice-Chancellor. The office will remain. The institution will remain. Another person will take the seat.

The deeper question will then be: who became better because you were there?

Who discovered their potential because you gave them an opportunity? Who became confident because you believed in them? Who became a leader because you allowed them to lead? Who will remember your tenure because you helped them become more than they thought they could become?

For me, that is one of the most important responsibilities of leadership. It is not merely to occupy a position or achieve results. It is to plant something in people that will continue to grow after you have left.

We are all standing, in part, on the shoulders of people who came before us. Some are still with us. Some have gone ahead of us into eternity. But their footprints remain.

A shoulder for those coming behind us

As I look back, I am deeply grateful to every mentor, teacher, colleague, friend, platform and institution that became a shoulder on which I could stand and begin my own journey. Some opened doors, some gave me direction, some created opportunities, and some simply believed in me when I needed someone to believe. I carry a part of each of them with me.

Having received so much from others, I have also come to appreciate the joy of seeing those I have mentored find their own paths. I am deeply grateful to my mentees who, even after leaving my team or institution, still call or reach out to share their experiences and tell me how far they have come and what they have become. Those calls and messages are precious to me. They remind me that what we invest in people can continue to live long after they have moved on.

To everyone, please do not wait until your mentor is gone before telling them what their guidance meant to you. Give the feedback while they are still here. A simple “Thank you, you made a difference in my life” can give a mentor the encouragement to keep planting, keep believing and keep building people.

And to my colleagues who are still waiting for their own leadership journey to begin, my message is simple: start building the shoulder for others now. Mentor someone. Open a door. Share what you know. Create opportunities. Believe in someone. Because when your own time comes, you too will need shoulders to stand on.

 

When you eventually become a Vice-Chancellor, may you look back and realise that the people you helped along the way have become part of the shoulders that carried you there.

We do not walk alone. We are carried by others, and in time, we must become the shoulder that carries others.

Now it is our turn.

The question is not only what we will achieve. It is also what we will leave in others.

Because we do not walk alone.

And we should never lead as though we do.

The stories are many. The lessons are even more.

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Prof. Abiodun Musa Aibinu, Ph.D.
Professor of Mechatronics Engineering | University Leader | Innovation & AI Advocate

Author, *Notes from a Vice-Chancellor*
Sharing practical insights and lessons from academia, leadership, technology, innovation, and institutional transformation.