In August 2025, I published a post announcing my withdrawal from the MBBS programme at the University of Abuja. The post recorded 76,588 views, 527 likes, 86 replies, and widespread engagement. Many reached out publicly and privately with concern, encouragement, and their own stories.
That announcement was never a genuine intention to drop out. It was a deliberate, triple-blinded social experiment — the only person not blinded was my mother, who was deliberately excluded from the study population. The goal was to observe, in real time, how our society reacts when a young person from a visible leadership track appears to walk away from medicine after a decade of investment.
The results were revealing. While hundreds offered support, advice, and solidarity, not one person disputed the central claim that the system is toxic and traumatic. The silence on that point, amid genuine concern for my well-being, was itself the most significant data point.
This mirrors the tragedy of 12 June 1993. What should have been Nigeria’s proudest day of democratic validation — a free, fair, and credible election — was turned into a day of national mourning through the annulment of Chief M.K.O. Abiola’s mandate. Abiola, a globally successful businessman and philanthropist who could have remained comfortable abroad, chose instead to return and stand with the Nigerian people. For that choice he was denied his victory, arrested, and detained for nearly four years. While arrangements for his release were being finalised, he died in custody on 7 July 1998.
His sacrifice was not in vain. Later governments offered formal apologies, and President Muhammadu Buhari rightly honoured 12 June as Democracy Day and conferred national recognition on Abiola posthumously. These were necessary acts of acknowledgment. Yet the deeper struggle — for a democracy anchored in meritocracy, competence, and the rule of law — remains unfinished.
My own experience has taught me the same lesson in personal terms. Coming from a richly diverse background — Christian and Muslim heritage, Hausa, Igbo, and Yoruba roots — I have encountered institutional injustice and multi-directional persecution. These experiences have crystallised a conviction: democracy without meritocracy is a myth. When gatekeeping, narratives, and power dynamics override competence and integrity, the system betrays the very promise of self-governance.
I will never willingly drop out of medical school. My family’s legacy makes that unthinkable. My mother graduated from the University of Jos in 1991. My brother is an alumnus of the Federal University, Dutsin-Ma. My sister graduated from Bayero University, Kano. When people with first-hand knowledge of the system’s flaws choose to remain inside it, they do so not out of naivety, but out of responsibility. We cannot abandon the work of transformation to those who have never felt its weight.
The detailed findings of the social experiment remain private, to be applied strategically in my ongoing leadership, research, and advocacy work. What I can say publicly is this: the outpouring of support I received — even while the “toxicity” claim went unchallenged — gives me hope. It shows that Nigerians, across divides, still long for systems that reward merit, protect dignity, and deliver justice.
A luta continua. Vitória é certa.
The struggle continues. Victory is certain — if we refuse to let go of the torch.
God bless Nigeria.
God bless democracy.
God bless every citizen still fighting for a country worthy of its promise.
If you are joining the X Space tomorrow on Unity in Diversity: History, Philosophy and Futurology, I look forward to continuing this conversation in greater depth.
The work is not done. The struggle is alive. And the next chapter is ours to write — together.
x.com/i/spaces/1AGRnnLXvXyGl
📌 I hereby Drop Out of MBBS. UniAbuja Nigeria
😏📊Pursuit been obviously too long(10yrs), palpably toxic, and too many traumatic experiences.
⚡📏If we are honest, I am more of a Computational and Iterative guy.
Best of luck to students, staff and management.
ACEO Moore