The Bad, The Good and The Ugly: JAMB 2025 UTME Fiasco and its many Lessons

By Nnanke Harry Willie
It has been a week of bedlam of the surreal. Angst, tumult and pains enveloped a section of Nigerian students, their parents, school administrators, and the Joint Admissions and Matriculations Board (JAMB). It is a week the affected persons are indeed still processing…and would not forget in a hurry.
When the results of the 2025 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) were recently released, what was supposed to be a routine academic milestone for Nigerian students spiralled into a national brouhaha. The Joint Admissions and Matriculations Board (JAMB), once hailed for digitizing admissions and standardizing processes, found itself squarely in the eye of a storm: a very public, very messy debacle that exposed the fragile underbelly of Nigeria’s education-tech infrastructure.
To say the reactions were emotional would be an understatement, they were generally volcanic!. From Lagos to Enugu, cries of anguish echoed through schools and homes as parents, teachers, and students alike were blindsided by abnormally low scores – scores that defied logic, historical performance, and preparation. A girl who had consistently topped her class in mock exams returned home with a JAMB score of 87 out of 400. Another reportedly took her life, a tragic punctuation mark on a saga that should never have happened.
What followed was a drama in three acts—the Bad, the Good, and the Ugly. But this is no high-octane western. This is the future of our youth. this is the JAMB 2025 UTME. And this is Nigeria!
The Bad: The Anatomy of a Digital Disaster
Let’s start with the unvarnished truth: JAMB dropped the ball.
A “technological glitch,” they called it. But let’s be honest, it was human error laced with systemic negligence. The UTME results fiasco of 2025 has exposed alarming lapses in oversight, quality assurance, and internal accountability within JAMB.
Firstly, there was no early detection mechanism for the JAMB 2025 UTME; if there was, it was not properly activated. This became clear when, despite red flags raised by school administrators and educators who noticed widespread discrepancies and anomalies, JAMB initially brushed aside their complaints, insisting that the results followed a historical pattern. That arrogance cost them dearly.
Students, especially those in Lagos and the South-East, bore the brunt. In an era where data can be traced, corrected and validated, JAMB’s systems were either not equipped to do so or simply lacked the human will to intervene early.
More concerning was the mental and emotional trauma inflicted on young candidates. Many students were left in limbo as they approached the next big hurdles -WAEC and NECO examinations – already emotionally battered. Parents were distraught. One girl, as earlier noted, took her own life. In a country where teenage mental health is barely acknowledged, this tragedy barely made front-page headlines.
But perhaps the lowest point came when the Minister of Education, Dr. Maruf Olatunji Alausa, insinuated that Nigerian students had historically posted high scores because of their “propensity to cheat.” A minister scapegoating children? Instead of reassurance, we got blame. Instead of leadership, we got cynicism.
If there’s anything worse than an error, it’s institutional gaslighting!
The Good: Redemption in Transparency
Yet, in the thick of this crisis, Nigeria caught a rare glimpse of something often elusive in public administration: accountability.
To JAMB’s credit, once the scale of the disaster became undeniable, the agency pivoted swiftly. They invited independent experts and stakeholders, including software auditors and tech partners like the Educare Tech Team, to conduct a full system audit. The findings were humbling for JAMB but made public immediately all the same. For once, transparency wasn’t just a slogan, it was practiced.
The JAMB Registrar, Prof. Ishaq Oloyede, publicly admitted the error. His emotional apology was uncharacteristic of the stiff-lipped bureaucracy Nigeria has come to expect. He owned the mistake and promised redress.
More importantly, JAMB quickly offered remedial examinations to affected students. This wasn’t just lip service, they created a pathway for the victims of the glitch to reclaim their future. The agency also promised sweeping reforms to its internal protocols and external partnerships.
In an ironic twist, the same public outrage that nearly drowned JAMB would also catalyze real reform. It has forced the system to pause, reflect, and act.
This was a reminder: transparency isn’t a weakness; it’s a powerful tool of institutional survival and progress. This is a great masterclass for other institutions and agencies in Nigeria, especially key institutions like the NNPC, which for decades have failed or refused to be transparent about the details of their operations.
The Ugly: Ethnic Politics and Public Lynch Mobs
However, not all responses were noble.
As frustration boiled over, the airwaves and social media were quickly flooded with ethnic slurs and tribal insinuations. The narrative took an ugly turn: that the failure disproportionately affected certain regions deliberately. Without evidence, conspiracy theories flourished.
Even Prof. Oloyede, despite his eventual apology and well-renowned pedigree, became the target of a vicious campaign to force his resignation. In typical Nigerian fashion, the scapegoat-hunting began before due process or investigation had run its course. This was not activism. It was digital lynching.
Lost in the noise was the critical absence of psycho-social support for the victims. No helpline. No school psychologist. No trained personnel to help teens cope. As a nation, we showed again that we are better at reacting than responding and caring.
Lessons We Must Learn: From Fiasco to Framework
In every crisis lies a classroom. If Nigeria is willing to learn, the JAMB 2025 saga could become a watershed moment.
Here are the critical takeaways:
1. Tech is Not Infallible – Systems Need Human Oversight
No matter how digital or AI-powered an exam board becomes, human checks and balances remain vital. Over-reliance on tech without testing for failure points is asking for disaster.
2. Build Institutions, Not Empires
Institutions must be bigger than the personalities that lead them. Processes should work with or without a charismatic registrar. JAMB must institutionalize review mechanisms that don’t rely on whistleblowers or public outrage to be activated.
3. Students Are Stakeholders, Not Scapegoats
Respect for students (and citizens) should be foundational. No minister should publicly accuse young people of cheating without evidence. It’s not only demoralizing—it’s wrong.
4. Mental Health is National Wealth
We cannot keep ignoring the psychological cost of our systemic failures. A traumatized generation cannot build a strong nation. We must incorporate mental health support into all national education policies.
5. Ethnic Bigotry is a National Cancer
Until we collectively silence ethnic jingoism in our national debates, progress will always be tainted. Let’s argue about systems and leadership, not surnames and states of origin.
Conclusion: A Crisis, a Mirror, and a Moment to Evolve
The JAMB 2025 UTME crisis is both a mirror and a moment. A mirror to our fragile systems, and a moment to evolve…if we are brave and willing enough.
Mistakes happen, yes. But true leadership is about how quickly and how honorably we rise after falling. JAMB has begun that climb. Whether it will rise high enough remains to be seen.
For the rest of Nigeria, the lesson is timeless: we cannot automate integrity, empathy, or responsibility. Those remain human virtues. And they must be woven into every byte, every boardroom decision, and every exam paper we print.
Until then, we watch. And hope. And demand better.
Nnanke Harry Willie, the Publisher/Editor-in-Chief of BRANDECONOMY, is a thoroughbred Brand Management Consultant. Contact: [email protected]