In Part 1 of this series, we were introduced to Dr Victor Omololu Olunloyo, a man who could quote Shakespeare, solve engineering problems, recite Yoruba literature, and explain the physics of space travel—all in one conversation.
But what many may not know is how this prodigious mind catapulted from a modest upbringing in Ibadan to the hallowed halls of the University of St Andrews in Scotland—and did so with a rare academic feat that stunned even the British academic system.
Dr. Olunloyo completed his Higher School Certificate (HSC)—a rigorous program typically spanning two years—in just three months. When the results came in, he was first in all of Ibadan Province. It was historic.
His acceptance into the University of St Andrews marked another milestone. As Nigeria was still under colonial rule, gaining admission to a centuries-old British university was already a towering achievement. But even that wasn’t enough for the young Olunloyo.
Upon arrival in Scotland, he petitioned the university to allow him to skip the first year entirely. No one had ever made such a request. But then again, few had the audacity—or ability—of Olunloyo.
He offered to take comprehensive tests in Physics, Chemistry, and Mathematics. Each was three hours long. The scores? 84 in Physics, 88 in Chemistry, and a near-perfect 98 in Mathematics. The university was left with no choice but to grant his request. And so he began his academic journey in second year.
When a man completes two years of study in three months and skips the first year of university by request, you don’t just remember him—you study him. Share on XThis is more to this story than skipping classes. It is a glimpse into the mind of someone who grasped complexity at speeds most could not comprehend. He would later graduate with a First Class in Mechanical Engineering and be granted a rare exemption from both a BSc and MSc—going straight to a PhD in Mathematics. The man who once placed 21st in his first year at Government College, Ibadan had now become one of the most academically gifted Nigerians in recorded history.
Yet, throughout his life, Dr. Olunloyo remained grounded. He didn’t wear his intellect like a crown. He wore it like a tool—a well-used one—refining it constantly, sharpening it not for display, but for service.
Dr Olunloyo taught us that the true tragedy isn’t when brilliance fades, but when a nation fails to remember it ever shone. Share on XIn this second installment of our series, we not only trace the roots of a rare genius but also confront a sobering truth: how many more Victor Olunloyos have we failed to notice, nurture, and honour in Nigeria? And what does it say about our values when such a man, who reached academic heights that most can only dream of, is largely forgotten until death?
Dr. Olunloyo’s story is not just his own. It is a lens through which we view what Nigeria was, what it is, and what it might yet become.