Professor Ikin emerged from the charm incident a changed man. During the preceding months when his wife had talked persistently about Dr. Okoro and his American friends he had paid little heed to her. He assumed that nagging was her way of life. Dr. Okoro did not constitute a threat to him; they were not in the same department so they could not be competing for the headship of the department. Even if they thought the same subject, Okoro could surely not deem to be a rival to him. He was an Associate Professor while Okoro had only just become a Lecturer Grade II. If he had yielded to his father’s pressure to marry early he might have produced a child as old as Dr. Okoro. Two member of the Provisional Council had had intentionally dropped broad hints that he was lined up to take over from Dr. Wilson as Vice Chancellor. He did not therefore need to any more notice of Dr. Okoro’s attitude towards him than a cow take notice of a fly perching on its back.
It was true Dr. Okoro got on well with the Americans who happened to be at the helm of the affair of Songhai. But what could they do for him? At best, in the teeth of strong opposition from all quarters, they could make him a Senior Lecturer. Even that will require the approval of the Provisional Council, and Okoro should not take for granted that half the members would not accept him as a child born today who would attain full maturity tomorrow. Professor Ikin knew what displeased the Americans about him – it was his lack of a Ph.D., but he hoped that over the years they would learn to judge a man by what he produces rather than by the degrees he has accumulated. If they did not, it was just too bad because only an earthquake could move him away from Songhai at such a crucial stage of its development.