MAYBE BEING A LASUITE ISN’T JUST ABOUT THE PRESTIGE; IT’S ABOUT THE UNSPOKEN STRUGGLES.

From around 7 a.m. on a Monday morning begins the incessant hustle and bustle of LASUites scurrying from the school gate into the campus for various reasons — particularly the dreaded 8 a.m. lecture of a no-nonsense lecturer, which, unsurprisingly, might end up being cancelled.

What follows is frustration and the venting of emotions. Ironically, this cycle runs from Monday to Friday, and although the reasons vary, they are mostly academic.This, sadly, is the lifestyle and daily reality of many students at Lagos State University. Well, we signed up for it… or didn’t we?

“How Much Is LASU School Fees?”

Nigeria’s most digitally advanced state university holds a special position in terms of tuition fees, standing apart from other higher institutions whose exorbitant charges often make us wonder, “Are we even in the same country?”

The public, LASU aspirants, and both concerned and unconcerned individuals often ask about the price of school fees once they learn you’re a student here. They expect a number — ₦90,000, ₦180,000, maybe more.But what they don’t ask is what it truly costs to survive LASU. Because truthfully, the real price isn’t printed on any receipt — it’s lived every day.

Transport: The Daily Drain

If you live off-campus, you already know the struggle. Many students live in areas ranging from Ipaye, First Gate, Agboroko, Iba, and Iyana School, to others. The journey is long, the buses are packed, and the fares keep rising. A round trip can swallow ₦1,000 daily. Multiply that by five days a week, and you’re spending more than your semester’s tuition in just one month.

And don’t forget the trekking. When buses stop halfway due to unforeseen circumstances or traffic lockdowns, your legs become your last resort. The exhaustion from commuting often affects class attendance and concentration.

“I spend about ₦2,000 weekly on transport. But the real stress is the overcrowded classrooms when we finally get to school. Sometimes we stand, and the mosquito bites are unbearable,” says Mosimileoluwa Farabiyi, a 200-level Mass Communication student.

“Transport doesn’t just cost money; it costs comfort, energy, and sometimes even your health. There should be more classrooms for students. It’s hard enough getting to school, but even harder finding a space to learn,” he added.

Should we even talk about the cost of printing, departmental dues, and other expenses? Lecturers love textbooks and online PDFs; departments love dues. And assignments? They love being printed in colour, on A4 paper, with spiral binding — if you want to impress. “To be submitted on Tuesday before 12 p.m.” they’ll say.

It’s not unusual to spend ₦500 just to submit one group project. Multiply that by courses, and you’re looking at thousands. Then there’s the unpredictability. Some lecturers are considerate — they accept handwritten work or soft copies. Others? Not so much. These costs are rarely discussed but deeply felt. And while some students find ways to cope, others are forced to choose between printing and eating.

This poses several pressures on students, who are forced to not just spend, but be spent — psychologically, emotionally, and physically.

Fashion Pressure: Looking Trendy

LASU has a vibe. You see it in the fits, the sneakers, the braids. But behind the slay lies pressure. Nobody wants to “look lost.” And while some students genuinely enjoy fashion, others feel forced to keep up.

“I don’t want to look overdressed or underdressed.” This goes through the minds of several students as they stand before their wardrobes, indecisive about what to wear to campus.

Clothes must be worn, lectures must be attended, attendance marked, and probably tests taken. We don’t have a choice!

There’s an unspoken rule: look good or be invisible. And that rule costs money. From hair appointments to trendy outfits, the pressure to maintain a certain image is overwhelming. And while battling with the thoughts of dressing for campus, the issue of food silently creeps in and evokes another question: “How do I survive?”

Food on campus is a gamble. You either eat cheap and risk regret, or spend more and still feel hungry. A decent meal costs between ₦1,000 and ₦1,500 — and that’s if you’re lucky. Some students survive on gala and pure water. Others skip meals entirely. This isn’t intentional; a calm calculation of the cost of eating on campus, rounded up weekly, suddenly reveals that we’re spending more than our never-enough monthly allowance — that’s for those who even receive allowances.

“I skip meals sometimes. Sometimes I just buy snacks, and other times I don’t buy food at all,” says Daniel, a 300-level Computer Science Education student.

The cost of feeding isn’t just financial — it’s emotional. Hunger affects focus, mood, and overall well-being. And when students have to choose between printing assignments and eating lunch, the consequences are real.

“On some occasions, I’ve had to go hungry just to afford other school expenses,” he admits. “My go-to survival combo? Fish roll and a cold bottle of kunu. It’s not just a snack — it’s a coping mechanism,” he added.

Mental and Emotional Costs

LASU is not just physically demanding; it’s emotionally exhausting. The pressure to pass, the fear of missing scripts, the anxiety of delayed results, the rush to sign attendance, or the tension of giving presentations — all take their toll. Add side hustles, family expectations, and social drama, and you’ve got a full load of stress.

Burnout is real. Depression is silent. Yet students are expected to stay strong, even when many are silently struggling. These are not just mere issues, but real-life challenges — and they pose a serious threat to the sanity of many undergraduates.

So, What Needs to Change?

Beyond highlighting these issues that affect the well-being of students, it would all go to waste if the authorities don’t see things from our point of view — because these issues are more than they appear on the surface.

We need empathy — from lecturers, from administrators, and from each other. We need systems that support, not punish, students. We need mental health spaces and transport subsidies.

We could go on and on listing what we need, but as the saying goes, “A tiny drop of water makes an ocean.” Little, consistent steps from those in charge of student welfare — from the school management to the students’ union, to the officers on the road, to the bus drivers — can make a big difference. We need not just empathy, but love — enough love to remind us that we are human.These issues can’t be solved if all parties don’t recognize that they affect not just students, but also reflect the larger reality of our country.

And finally, we need to stop pretending that ₦90,000 covers the cost of education. Because the real cost of being a LASU student isn’t just money. It’s everything. And if we don’t talk about it, who will?