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A head full of AI free magic
It’s been an interesting few weeks discussing ethics and professionalism with my students, well those that turn up, but that’s a different debate, albeit I guess, in a way linked to the essence of this blog. As usual, my head is full of what a former colleague would describe as ‘magic’. Lots of different seemingly daft ideas, formulated into some narrative that makes sense to me but is difficult to convey to the rest of the world. The latter I’m sure is not peculiar to me, it happens to most people when they have to start writing something, some call it writers’ block, I just call it searching for the starting point. The daft ideas though, I proudly claim as my own. And that is why so often I end up writing a load of ‘stuff’ and then deleting it or at least some of it. In writing, I’m aided by some spell checker built into the software that I’m using and suggestions, also built into the software, about grammar and sentence construction. The latter often hinders rather than anything else, ‘no I do not want to revise the sentence to be more succinct. Your succinctness makes no sense to me and does not convey what I want to say’. A bit of a ramble so far I know, but I’m not going to change it because I want to convey the head full of ‘magic’ phenomenon (those of you that can remember it, can now sing the little ditty that will stick in your head for the rest of the day) and the writing process. You no doubt will have noticed, well those of you that still have a pulse and the will to live, I have made no mention of AI. No use of AI to convey my head full of ‘magic’ ideas, no use of AI to help me start writing. Why, well let me put it to you very succinctly, these are my ideas, it’s my head full of ‘magic’. It does not belong to some machine, whatever appears on this screen, whilst I am writing, is mine and mine alone. I cannot imagine a time when I will be so devoid of thought, ideas, creativity or ability, that I will resort to asking a machine to provide me with the answer or the output. What would the answer look like if I did? Some verbose monologue that is boring, has little or no substance, is devoid of meaning and in the case of academic work, if this were such, is supported by pseudo or obscure, tentatively subject linked, or even fictitious, references. Verbal diarrhoea on screen. If you want evidence of this, ask any discerning academic about more recent student essays. I say discerning for good reason, a reason that I hope to make apparent in a short while.
Let me digress just a little. Recently in the news there has been momentum around the use of mobile phones by young people, or more to the point, what some will say is misuse of phones. Or, the more cynical and critical amongst us might say the abuse of young people by multinational tech giants. There to make money, tech companies have used algorithms, heuristics and goodness knows what to ensure young people are hooked on social media. To their credit, they have also invested vast sums of money trying to limit online abuse and harmful content. But let’s be honest, it’s like farting and then running around with some aerosol to try to cover up the smell. It still stinks but the air is a little better in a few places. Society and government are waking up to the harm caused by the use of technology by young people in this context and we have seen some countries introduce an outright ban on use by under 16s. Something being mooted in this country. Some schools have banned the use of phones in the classroom and as a consequence have seen youngsters returning to healthier past times like playing football or chatting, and of course misbehaving. I would suggest that we have been well behind the curve when it comes to realisation of the harm that is being caused to young people. As parents, we have even colluded in it, albeit more often than not, unwittingly. Those in education systems have probably done the same. But this seemed to creep up on society almost organically, fertilised by businesses whose raison d’être is to make money regardless of cost to humanity. Although they have always dressed it up as progress and of benefit to individuals and society at large. The emperor’s new clothes comes to mind.
But what of AI? There seems to be a clamour by government that as a country we need to jump on the AI bandwagon. AI is being foisted upon us, much the same as social media and the internet has been, by tech companies. We are being told the next generation will need to be AI savvy. But what does that mean? Whilst all of this is going on, there is growing research showing that AI is crippling people’s cognitive abilities. That AI will stop us from being able to analyse and be critical ourselves. Technology does this. Think about spelling, no longer do you need to worry about spelling because it is done for you, grammar, pretty much the same. No need to calculate things in your head, you can use a calculator, no need to remember phone numbers, they are all in your mobile phone, no need think up ideas, AI will do that for you, no need to read, AI will summarise it for you, no need, just no need. I am human but I have no need to think for myself.
And yet, armed with this knowledge individuals in educational institutions plough headlong into promoting AI to their students. This can help you find sources, this can help you when you are devoid of ideas, this can help you make your work better, this can help you …. Stop thinking for yourself. I and most of my colleagues are able to think for ourselves because we have grown up having to. I know what I know now, which as an aside is very little, because I have had to think for myself, work things out for myself. Along the way I have been aided by all sorts of people in all walks of life, but I am who I am because I can think for myself. But educational establishments these days concern themselves almost psychopathically with student numbers, finance and results. There seems to be little understanding of what education really means or for that matter, little concern. Institutional reputations are upheld at all costs, individual reputations forged on sycophantic behaviours with little regard to the impact on students or colleagues. Within this, institutions, driven by government and more importantly business rhetoric make AI central to their vision, their mission.
I wonder whether in a few years’ time there will be an inquiry somewhere, that suggests we have deprived a whole generation of the joy of being human. I wonder whether someone will say those individuals and institutions that so frivolously dabbled with AI, using students in a social experiment, were quite simply morally bankrupt in their drive to further their own ends. And at least some of my students know what Immanuel Kant would say about that!
Embracing Technology in Education: Prof. Ejikeme’s Enduring Influence
Sallek Yaks Musa, PhD, FHEA

When I heard about the sudden demise of one of my professors, I was once again reminded of the briefness and vanity of life —a topic the professor would often highlight during his lectures. Last Saturday, Prof. Gray Goziem Ejikeme was laid to rest amidst tributes, sadness, and gratitude for his life and impact. He was not only an academic and scholar but also a father and leader whose work profoundly influenced many.
I have read numerous tributes to Prof. Ejikeme, each recognizing his passion, dedication, and relentless pursuit of excellence, exemplified by his progression in academia. From lecturer to numerous administrative roles, including Head of Department, Faculty Dean, Deputy Vice Chancellor, and Acting Vice Chancellor, his career was marked by significant achievements. This blog is a personal reflection on Prof. Ejikeme’s life and my encounters with him, first as his student and later as an academic colleague when I joined the University of Jos as a lecturer.
Across social media, in our graduating class group, and on other platforms, I have seen many tributes recognizing Prof. Ejikeme as a professional lecturer who motivated and encouraged students. During my undergraduate studies, in a context where students had limited voice compared to the ‘West,’ I once received a ‘D’ grade in a social psychology module led by Prof. Dissatisfied, I mustered the courage to meet him and discuss my case. The complaint was treated fairly, and the error rectified, reflecting his willingness to support students even when it wasn’t the norm. Although the grade didn’t change to what I initially hoped for, it improved significantly, teaching me the importance of listening to and supporting learners.
Prof. Ejikeme’s classes were always engaging and encouraging. His feedback and responses to students were exemplary, a sentiment echoed in numerous tributes from his students. One tribute by Salamat Abu stood out to me: “Rest well, Sir. My supervisor extraordinaire. His comment on my first draft of chapter one boosts my morale whenever I feel inadequate.”
My interaction with Prof. Ejikeme significantly shaped my teaching philosophy to be student-centered and supportive. Reflecting on his demise, I reaffirmed my commitment to being the kind of lecturer and supervisor who is approachable and supportive, both within and beyond the classroom and university environment.
Prof. Ejikeme made teaching enjoyable and was never shy about embracing technology in learning. At a time when smartphones were becoming more prevalent, he encouraged students to invest in laptops and the internet for educational purposes. Unlike other lecturers who found laptop use during lectures distracting, he actively promoted it, believing in its potential to enhance learning. His forward-thinking approach greatly benefited me and many others.
Building on Prof. Ejikeme’s vision, today’s educators can leverage advancements in technology, particularly Artificial Intelligence (AI), to further enhance educational experiences. AI can personalize learning by adapting to each student’s pace and style, providing tailored feedback and resources. It can also automate administrative tasks, allowing educators to focus more on teaching and student interaction. For instance, AI-driven tools can analyse student performance data to identify learning gaps, recommend personalized learning paths, and predict future performance, helping educators intervene proactively.
Moreover, AI can support academics in research by automating data analysis, generating insights from large datasets, and even assisting in literature reviews by quickly identifying relevant papers. By embracing AI, academics can not only improve their teaching practices but also enhance their research capabilities, ultimately contributing to a more efficient and effective educational environment.
Prof. Ejikeme’s willingness to embrace new technologies was ahead of his time, and it set a precedent for leveraging innovative tools to support and improve learning outcomes. His legacy continues as we incorporate AI and other advanced technologies into education, following his example of using technology to create a more engaging and supportive learning experience.
Over the past six months, I have dedicated significant time to reflecting on my teaching practices, positionality, and the influence of my role as an academic on learners. Prof. Ejikeme introduced me to several behavioural theories in social psychology, including role theory. I find role theory particularly crucial in developing into a supportive academic. To succeed, one must balance and ensure compatible role performance. For me, the golden rule is to ensure that our personal skills, privileges, dispositions, experiences from previous roles, motivations, and external factors do not undermine or negatively impact our role or overshadow our decisions.
So long, Professor GG Ejikeme. Your legacy lives on in the countless lives you touched.
Disclaimer: AI may have been used in this blog.
Helpfully unhelpful: The pathology of being too supportive

When I first arrived in London, I needed to find my way across the city to the now former site of the Home Office at St Anne’s Gate. I didn’t have a clue about how to get there so I asked a member of staff at St Pancras railway station. He helpfully pointed me in the direction of the London Underground. I was swept along by a torrent of people, all going about their business with a purpose, I however, didn’t have a clue where I was going. Finding sanctuary in a quiet eddy and desperately looking around I spotted a member of staff across the concourse. Fighting against the current I scrambled to where the member of staff was and implored upon them to rescue me. Thankfully the underground staff had all been briefed, not specifically about me, I should hasten to add, but about how by being super helpful they could increase customer satisfaction, reduce complaints and attract even more customers. And having explained my dilemma, I was very helpfully led through the ticket barriers, now struggling to hold back the surge, and down the escalator to the platform below. I was told to get on the next train and to get off at St James’ Park. Having arrived at my destination I became confused as to which exit to use and once again found a very helpful staff member who led me part way to the exit, where I spilled out into the sunlight a matter of yards away from my destination.
The following week I once again plunged into the torrent and confident that I knew which underground line to take I allowed myself to be swept along to the barriers and through, and then panic. Which platform and am I sure that was the right line? Once again, a beacon of hope shone across the dark morass, a member of underground staff. Once again, I was led to the platform in a super helpful way and got on the first train. But this time I didn’t arrive at my destination for some, I have to say, traumatic hours. The problem was the first train was not the train to catch, it was the second that I needed; I will most definitely have to complain about that member of staff being unhelpful.
This pattern of visits to London and assistance rendered by sometimes grumpy but always super helpful members of underground staff continued for some weeks. Often, I would stay in London for a week at a time before returning home outside of the metropolis at the weekend. During my stays I visited numerous police stations as part of my work and every time I used the underground, I sought out a helpful member of staff to assist me. Sometimes, if they rather unhelpfully simply pointed me in the right direction, I would set off and then return to them explaining that I didn’t understand their instructions. Armed with more information I would again purposefully set off and then duly return until the succumbed and rather reluctantly but helpfully led me to the correct platform.
Then in a fortnight, two things happened. Firstly, the underground staff went on strike and on arriving at the gates of St James’ Park underground station I found the gates closed. There were a couple of members of staff there, but they weren’t very helpful. ‘What should I’ do I asked, ‘Dunno’, was the reply. Now that was not very helpful, complaint forthcoming I feel. I didn’t make my appointments that day and the following day had to use taxis to get around. Much easier to use taxis you might say, yes but not really justifiable in terms of cost, my boss told me when I suggested I would forego using the underground altogether. After three days the underground opened up again but for some reason there were no staff around to ask for help. I became increasingly anxious and found myself avoiding the underground, using taxis at my own expense, and walking long distances. I was exhausted I can tell you.

The next week I ventured into the underground again, I couldn’t avoid it forever. I found a member of staff and duly asked them, in an almost ritualistic fashion, how to get across London to another underground station near yet another police station. Instead of pointing me in the right direction, which we all know by now is a rather fruitless, time wasting and unhelpful exercise, or super helpfully taking me to the correct platform, they took me to a rather large underground map on the wall. ‘This is where we are’, the very nice lady said, ‘and this is where you want to be’, she added. She then continued to explain how to use the map, how to follow the signs dotted around the stations, how to look for the signs before entering the platforms so as to work out which platform to be on and how to ensure I get on the correct train. I was nervous following her instructions as I made my way to the platform, but I got to my destination and I made my own way back, with help of the wall map of course. From that point onwards, I made my way around London on the underground with increased confidence, I wouldn’t say with consummate ease, but confidently. I made mistakes but because I knew how to read the map, I was able to rectify them and if I couldn’t I knew that I could ask. Of course, now that I drive, I use maps, I would probably have been pestering police officers and random members of the public otherwise and we know how the rare the sight of the former are on our streets. Anyway, I don’t think they’ve had the ‘super helpful’ briefing. Lately though I’ve been using my satnav, and sometimes getting into a right pickle. It seems you can’t beat good old-fashioned map reading.
What’s the point of this nonsensical tale? Well the clue is in the title. As educators we need to consider the purpose of what we are doing and how this will add value to students’ learning and knowledge. We can give students the answers to the essay questions, how to structure a particular essay, what arguments to include, what books and journal articles to read. We can supply them with reading lists that contain links to the books and journal articles, we can coach them to such an extent that their journey is in fact our journey, just as my journey to the underground platform was the staff member’s journey. We can repeat this many times over so that students are capable of completing that essay, but like me on my journey through the underground, they will need the same coaching for every piece of assessment and whilst they may complete each journey as I did, they have learnt very little and become increasingly disempowered and crippled by our helpfulness and their increasing reliance on it. Our jobs as educators is not to provide answers but to equip students with the tools to find the answers themselves. That process requires a willingness to learn, to discover and to take risks. Super helpfulness should not be an organisational strategy to ensure each part of the journey is easily manoeuvred and completed, it should be about ensuring that people can complete any journey independently and confidently. Sometimes by appearing to be super helpful we are simply being very unhelpful and disempowering people at the same time.







