The Weight of the Role – Confessions of a Struggling Class Rep By Emmanuel, 200 Level, Criminology

They say leadership is about service.
But what happens when the people you serve don't even appreciate you?

I'm Emmanuel — 200 Criminology  student, unofficial class therapist, and, yes, class rep since 100 Level. When I first got the title, I thought I was stepping into something cool — something that’d give me confidence, recognition, and maybe even a soft spot with a few lecturers. But fast forward to now?
It feels more like a full-time job I never applied for.

From the outside, it looks like I just pass announcements, collect assignments, and vibe with lecturers. But the reality? It’s chaos. Every. Single. Day.

Imagine waking up to 237 messages in the class WhatsApp group. Half of them irrelevant. The other half people shouting “Who’s collecting the assignment?” after I’ve posted the deadline three times. You repeat an announcement — no response. Then suddenly, when something goes wrong, it’s:
"Class rep, you no talk o!"

I’ll never forget one particular week. The department gave us just two days’ notice to submit a compulsory assignment. I literally paused my own coursework, ran around tracking down confused lecturers, begged for clarity, called the course rep in another department, and even typed a full sample to guide the class.
Guess what?
Only 14 people submitted.
The rest? They said I “didn’t remind them enough.”

Then there was that lecturer — ah, that day. We arrived five minutes late for a class and he refused to start. Looked directly at me and said, “You’re the class rep. This is your fault.”
Sir, respectfully, was I the one that kept 60 grown students from coming early?
Still, I had to apologize.

There are mornings I skip breakfast to coordinate impromptu meetings. Evenings I miss my own assignment deadlines because I'm chasing others to meet theirs.
And you know what hurts the most?
The silence.
No one sees the effort. They only see what you didn’t do.

One night, I sat alone in my room, drained. I asked myself, “Why am I still doing this?” But then, I remembered moments — someone saying, “Thank you,” or “If not for you, we would’ve missed that test.” Those little words? They carry weight.

Leadership, I’ve learned, is not about being liked. It’s not even about being noticed.
It’s about resilience.
It’s staying calm when you want to scream. It’s solving problems no one wants to admit are even there. It’s accepting blame, even when it’s not your fault — and still showing up.

No, I’m not perfect.
But every day, I try.

Leadership isn’t a badge. It’s a burden. A quiet one. But it teaches you strength you didn’t know you had.
So if you see your class rep today, just say thank you. Trust me — it means more than you know.