When I sat for my West African School Certificate Examination (WASCE) in 1981 in the then Bendel State, the results were unexpectedly withheld. As a young student with big dreams, I waited on God, immersed in prayers and fasting, hoping for a miracle. But the results never came. That heartbreak forced me to retake the examination as an external candidate in another secondary school within the state. To my dismay, history repeated itself: my results were once again withheld. When they were eventually released a year later, I was left with grades that did not reflect my abilities, particularly in subjects I was known to excel in.
For instance, my scores in Christian Religious Knowledge (CRK) and Geography, subjects in which I had excelled consistently, were shockingly poor. The disbelief was not mine alone. One of the school’s tutors, who also served as the Vice Principal, was visibly stunned when he saw me. “Isaac, I doubt if you were the one that wrote this exam,” he said, almost whispering in disbelief. Then, with a tone of frustration, he asked, “What happened that you were given these scores?”
This question, decades later, still echoes within me. At the heart of the matter is not the pain of failure, but the agony of being unfairly punished. It is the burden of innocence unjustly sacrificed on the altar of collective condemnation. It is for this reason that I find it necessary to speak up today.
Recently, Nigeria’s Minister of Education, Dr. Ibrahim Alausa, made a statement that rattled the nation’s educational community. He described the massive failure recorded in the 2025 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) as a “National Triumph.” According to him, the high failure rate is evidence that the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) had succeeded in uprooting cheating cartels and restoring the sanctity of the examination process. He cited the deployment of biometric verification, AI-powered proctoring, and question randomization technologies as tools that had turned JAMB into a “digitized fortress.”
The Minister’s bold stance has been lauded in some quarters as a long-overdue cleanup of an examination process riddled with corruption and malpractice. However, it has also drawn sharp criticism from parents, students, educators, and rights advocates. Many argue that in the bid to eradicate cheating, the system has gone overboard, becoming so stringent that even genuinely prepared candidates are being caught in the crossfire.
Dr. Alausa’s declaration is eerily reminiscent of what many of us suffered under WAEC’s zero-tolerance policy decades ago. WAEC, in its zeal to maintain credibility, often withheld results from entire examination centers if mass cheating was suspected. It did not matter if a candidate had walked into the hall with nothing but honesty and knowledge; the assumption of guilt was collective. Innocent candidates were branded with the same brush as culprits, with little to no room for appeal.
The same seems to be happening with JAMB in 2025. Draconian enforcement, without due consideration for nuances and anomalies, can lead to a system where the innocent are punished, and their futures derailed. As we push for integrity in our education system, a goal that is both noble and necessary, we must do so with a balanced and meticulous approach. Integrity must never come at the cost of fairness.
It is true that exam malpractice has crippled Nigeria’s educational credibility for far too long. The rise of “miracle centres,” impersonators, leaked questions, and compromised invigilators has turned what should be a sacred academic exercise into a marketplace of fraud. Dr. Alausa’s technological interventions are commendable in principle. But when over 68% of candidates score below 150 out of 400, it’s a red flag, not just about cheating but also about systemic failure.
The question must then be asked: Are we fixing the system or merely exposing its collapse? Are we truly assessing knowledge, or are we setting traps that even brilliant students can’t navigate due to flawed implementation?
Many candidates who sat for the 2025 UTME reported ambiguous questions, erratic systems, and power outages at centers in rural areas. Some candidates from underprivileged backgrounds lacked access to preparatory resources and digital tools. Yet, they were expected to perform under the same conditions as their urban counterparts who had access to private coaching, mock CBT exams, and stable internet.
The disparity is glaring, and unless addressed, any measure introduced to promote integrity will be seen as punitive elitism. Worse still, it may discourage genuinely intelligent students who feel victimized by a system that refuses to acknowledge their struggles.
Education is not just about policing cheating; it is also about inclusion, equity, support, and understanding. We cannot build a credible examination system by erecting walls so high that even the deserving cannot climb. Neither WAEC nor JAMB should operate with a mindset of collective punishment. Rather, they should adopt forensic-level investigations that identify culprits individually. Technology should not just be used to catch cheaters; it should also protect the innocent.
Furthermore, if a drastic policy is going to be implemented, it must be accompanied by equally robust measures to prepare students. We cannot demand world-class performance from students taught in classrooms with broken furniture, outdated textbooks, and overwhelmed teachers. Before we tighten the noose of accountability, we must first loosen the chains of neglect in our public schools.
Dr. Alausa mentioned plans for mental health support and remedial programs for students affected by the mass failure. While this is a step in the right direction, it must not be a mere afterthought or media appeasement. Real change comes when policies are student-centered from inception, not just in damage control.
Our education system should not become a battlefield where only the technologically armed survive. It should be a sanctuary of learning where every child, regardless of background, has a fair shot at success. As a nation, we must demand that JAMB and WAEC balance integrity with justice, and discipline with compassion.
In the final analysis, restoring integrity to our examination system is non-negotiable. But it must be done in a way that does not trample upon the dreams of innocent students. The credibility of our institutions must not come at the cost of sacrificing those who genuinely worked hard.
Let us learn from the past, including stories like mine, and ensure that we do not repeat the mistakes that left countless students with scars that never fully healed. Integrity is vital, but fairness is foundational. Let us uphold both.