2025 UTME Results: Confronting the Reality We Deny
By Oladoja Mark Olamilekan,
If ever there was a time to declare a state of emergency in Nigeria’s education sector, it is now. Not tomorrow. Not next year. Now. Because what we are witnessing is not just a national tragedy. It is a slow, deliberate erasure of our future.
The release of JAMB’s 2025 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination results left a bitter taste in the mouth of every thinking Nigerian. Out of over 1.9 million candidates who sat for the examination, only a meagre 0.5% scored 300 and above.
Barely 24% crossed the 200 mark. The rest? Scattered in the wilderness of failure, drowning in scores that reflect not just poor preparation, but a collapsing system. These numbers are not just statistics — they are the symptoms of a nation bleeding from within.
They are cries from a generation left unattended, unmentored, and dangerously exposed to the illusion that success lies in shortcuts and surface gloss. I used to think JAMB was the problem. A relic.
An outdated filter clogging the dreams of Nigerian youths. But these results have done more than humble me — they have forced a sobering confession. JAMB is not the enemy. It has become the mirror we dread: brutally honest, glaringly clear, and impossible to break.
In a society plagued by counterfeit results, forged certificates, and inflated transcripts, JAMB remains the last-standing referee still calling foul where foul truly exists. Some critics have tried to reduce this failure to the 6:30 a.m. exam schedule.
What a lazy excuse. A people who once woke before dawn to fetch water from distant streams now find waking up for exams too Herculean? Students who cannot adapt to early mornings in the safety of CBT centres — how will they survive in the real world?
In hospitals, on oil rigs, in airports, in courtrooms, in boardrooms? The world does not pamper mediocrity. Our ancestors trekked miles to schools without sandals. Today’s children can barely stay alert after a night of TikTok, binge streams, and endless scrolling.
We are raising a generation of sleep-deprived digital zombies. This is not a JAMB problem. It is a national character problem. One we have nurtured with neglect, watered with entertainment, and rewarded with silence.
Let us be blunt: today’s students are not entirely to blame. They are only responding to the world we created for them. In that world, influence matters more than intellect, and followers rank higher than formulas.
A society that celebrates overnight sensations and sidelines academic excellence cannot produce Einsteins, Achebes, Soyinkas or Okonjo-Iwealas. Today’s teenagers can name 10 social media influencers but cannot mention five Nobel Laureates.
They quote lyrics but cannot complete a sentence without blending pidgin with profanity. Our children no longer idolize scientists or scholars. Their role models are skit makers, beauty influencers, and clout chasers.
When mediocrity wears a crown, brilliance hides its face. When we turn education into punishment and make ignorance profitable, we should not be shocked when classrooms are empty and stages are full. And we — the adults — must not pretend to be innocent.
We know about the miracle centres where answers are whispered before the questions land. We know about school principals who supervise cheating, and invigilators who collect brown envelopes in exchange for silence.
We know WAEC and NECO are breeding confidence in emptiness, issuing credits to those who can barely construct a sentence. Some of these students graduate with distinctions but cannot compose a simple email or defend a term paper without panic.
But JAMB, like a stubborn prophet, refuses to join the charade. And now, its results are making us uncomfortable. And rightly so — discomfort, after all, is often the beginning of transformation. What about the home front?
Many parents have outsourced parenting to smartphones and the internet. The very same parents who once imposed curfews and supervised homework now hand children devices with unlimited access to chaos.
Children as young as eight are armed with phones that open the floodgates of distraction and moral decay. There are no boundaries. No filters. Just data subscriptions and algorithm-driven parenting.
We used to say it takes a village to raise a child — now it takes a screen to ruin one. Can we really blame these children entirely when, in their eyes, education is slow, boring, and unrewarding? Their world tells them that foolishness is fast, flashy, and lucrative.
If a 22-year-old can build a mansion from comedy skits and a 19-year-old becomes famous by twerking on Instagram, what motivation does a classroom provide? If society rewards vanity louder than values, why should they choose the quiet grind of study?
Still, the bulk of this rot lies with the government. A nation that cannot protect its education is a nation that has chosen decay. We need urgent reforms — not committee talks, but bold policies. Filters on content.
Limits on device usage. Curriculum overhaul. Teaching incentives. Massive investment in teacher training and infrastructure. Let education be treated as a national defence project, not a side hustle or a line item in budget documents.
We need to deglamorize ignorance and rekindle the allure of learning. Let science fairs receive the same attention as beauty pageants. Let libraries be renovated with the same urgency as sports stadiums.
Let teachers earn respect — and a living wage — worthy of their role as nation builders. If we do not wake up, the tragedy will deepen. A country where youth cannot pass exams will soon struggle to run hospitals, build roads, fly planes, or lead anything.
We will become a nation of dancers and spectators, clapping for the rest of the world as they leap ahead. We must return value to learning. We must make education beautiful again. Desirable again. Sacred again.
Until that happens, the best of us will keep fleeing abroad, while the rest stumble at home — mocked by systems that promised them a future and delivered them failure. Let us stop acting surprised. Let us stop pretending.
The JAMB results are not the problem. They are the evidence. The real failure started long ago. It started when we traded chalkboards for ring lights, thinkers for trendsetters, and scholars for skit makers.
And if nothing is done — urgently and sincerely — we will not just lose this generation. We will bury the very soul of our future.
Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja. He can be reached at: [email protected]
