When Institutions Bully: Reflections on MNI vs MNIPR in NIPSS
By Adegbite Anuoluwapo Rafat
When I first saw the title MNI vs MNIPR in NIPSS by Yushau A. Shuaib, I expected a rigid, technical book—one of those institutional texts filled with policies, procedures and acronyms that require slow, careful reading. I did not even know what the acronyms meant at the time. My first thought was simply: this must be about some bureaucratic matter. But after reading it, I realised it was far more human, far more emotional and far more unsettling than I imagined.
At its core, the book is about institutional bullying. But for me, it goes beyond bullying. It exposes the emotional and mental distress that can come from being on the receiving end of an institution’s power. It also highlights something deeply troubling about the Nigerian system: how institutional loyalty can sometimes overshadow personal relationships, human dignity and even the very principles those institutions claim to uphold.
The book recounts Shuaib’s experience with the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS) and the events that followed. What makes it compelling is that Shuaib is not an outsider writing about institutional communication. He is a public relations strategist, crisis communication expert, founder of Image Merchants Promotion Limited and publisher of PRNigeria. He is also the convener of the fellowship I am currently part of. Yet none of that shields him from the experience he narrates. He lived it, and now he tells it.
One of the most striking parts of the book is the way some officials reportedly treated participants of the NIPSS programme—adults with decades of professional experience, people who had built careers and held senior positions. Seeing them spoken to or treated as though they lacked basic reasoning was alarming. One incident, which initially sounded humorous, involved an official scolding a participant for “pocketing”—putting his hands in his pocket while speaking casually with another participant. At first I laughed. Then I paused. Why should such a trivial gesture concern an institution? When authority begins dictating how an adult should stand or where they should place their hands, it becomes difficult not to question where discipline ends and unnecessary control begins.
That moment made me rethink institutional bullying. We often associate bullying with children in school. We rarely consider how adults experience it in professional spaces—through humiliation, excessive control, condescension and the constant feeling of being stripped of autonomy.
The book also reveals the toll such experiences can take. One of the saddest parts for me was reading about the impact on Shuaib’s health. It reminded me that behind every institutional conflict are real people who carry the emotional and physical consequences long after the incident ends.
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Another theme that stayed with me is institutional reputation. In Nigeria, prestigious institutions often enjoy automatic respect. Their reputation can overshadow facts. People assume they must be right simply because of who they are. But should an institution’s reputation matter more than the facts of a case? Should institutional relationships determine how far we are willing to hold one another accountable? And at what point does loyalty to an institution begin to conflict with the principles that institution claims to uphold?
These questions lingered as I read.
I was also disappointed by the role attributed to the Nigerian Institute of Public Relations (NIPR). According to the book, NIPR recommended Shuaib for the Senior Executive Course at NIPSS and had an existing relationship with him. Yet as the conflict developed, that relationship appeared to shift. The withdrawal of support and affiliations connected to their collaborations was difficult to read. As a professional body built on integrity and reputation, NIPR’s response raised questions for me. Why would an institution that emphasises ethical conduct react that way when one of its own members faced a dispute?
Still, I recognise that the book presents Shuaib’s perspective. I found myself wanting to hear from the other side. What informed their decisions? Why did they interpret certain incidents differently? What made situations that appeared harmless in Shuaib’s account serious enough for institutional reaction? Hearing from officials involved would have helped form a more balanced view.
This is also why I had to be cautious with my reaction to the final judgment. Based on the facts presented, the outcome felt biased. But I also had to remind myself that the book had already made me empathise with Shuaib. Some of my reaction may have come from seeing the case through his eyes.
One thing I admired was how Shuaib handled the situation. Despite the toll on his health, he found purpose and moved forward. Knowing that he had people in his corner was reassuring. It showed that even when someone appears to be standing against a larger structure, they do not necessarily stand alone.
I also asked myself what I would have done in his position. Honestly, I doubt I would have handled it better. I might have been more confrontational. His patience impressed me. He approached the situation logically rather than emotionally. I respect that because I know I do not always have that kind of restraint.
Another lesson I took from the book is the importance of knowing where to draw the line with institutional relationships. As someone beginning a career, I understand how important affiliations can be. They open doors and create opportunities. But the book reminded me that relationships should never become so important that they compromise personal principles. There must be a point where one can say: this is where I draw the line.
In that sense, MNI vs MNIPR in NIPSS is more than a story about one man and two institutions. It is an exposé of institutional bullying and a window into structures that often look different from the outside than they do from within. Despite the seriousness of the subject, the book is engaging. Shuaib narrates events in a way that makes them easy to picture. At times, it felt like being inside the scenes rather than reading about them.
By the end, I was still curious about what the appeal would bring and whether the issues raised would receive another interpretation. But perhaps that is part of what makes the book worth reading. It leaves you with one question that is bigger than the case itself:
When an institution’s reputation and an individual’s dignity appear to be on opposite sides, which one should matter more?
