In Nigeria’s tertiary education sector, an imposing hurdle stands between millions of hopeful students and their dreams. The Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB). Established as the supposed gatekeeper to higher education, JAMB has over the years evolved into a labyrinthine system that tests endurance as much as intelligence.
A young Nigerian, armed with hope and ambition, embarks on an arduous journey to a distant exam center. The stakes are astronomical. One test determines whether they will enter university or be cast back into another year of uncertainty. Parents scrape together N8000 for registration, sometimes at great personal sacrifice, only for their child to sit for an exam whose success does not guarantee admission.
Yet JAMB’s greatest irony is this. Passing does not mean progress. Results, much like perishable goods, expire within a year. If the stars do not align, if the competition is too fierce, or if the university chooses not to admit them, students must repeat the entire process, paying fees, studying the same syllabus, and hoping for better luck next year. For some, this ordeal becomes a relentless cycle, with individuals sitting for JAMB as many as six times before securing admission.
Nigeria’s admission system is without a doubt one of the most chaotic in the world. Beyond JAMB, there is the infamous Post-UTME, a second university-administered test that further complicates the process. If JAMB is meant to be the sole entrance examination, why do universities feel the need to conduct their own tests If WAEC results remain valid indefinitely, why does a JAMB score last just one year Why are students restricted to choosing only two universities when a wider selection could increase their chances of admission
These are the questions that define the madness of Nigeria’s admission process, yet answers remain elusive. The Academic Staff Union of Universities which should be at the forefront of reform remains largely silent. The structure that was once meant to standardize and streamline admissions now does little more than breed frustration and disillusionment.
But JAMB is only the beginning of a long and painful ordeal. Once a student finally secures admission, another battle begins, a slow bureaucratic nightmare that turns even the simplest tasks into endurance tests.
Generating a Remita payment, a fundamental step in the registration process, can take seven days. Once payment is made, it can take another two days to obtain a receipt. From there, the real nightmare unfolds. Screening alone drags on for two weeks, faculty registration takes another week, and departmental registration another. By the time a Nigerian student completes the registration process, weeks or even months have passed. Weeks lost to standing in long queues, navigating administrative inefficiencies, and dealing with the sheer frustration of an archaic system.
To grasp the full extent of Nigeria’s backwardness, one need only compare it to neighboring Ghana. There, university admission is a seamless, technology-driven process. A student can apply and gain admission from the comfort of their bedroom. Upon receiving an acceptance letter, all it takes is a simple online payment and within seconds, they are issued a student ID, school email, library credentials, and class schedules. Registration, including accommodation and medical clearance, is completed within hours.
The contrast is staggering. Where Nigerian students endure weeks of paperwork and inefficiency, their Ghanaian counterparts complete the process in mere hours. While Nigerian students battle bureaucracy, Ghanaian universities operate in the 21st century, leveraging technology to simplify the student experience.
Nigeria’s university admission system is broken and mere adjustments will not suffice. It needs a fundamental overhaul. One viable alternative is allowing universities to conduct their own entrance exams, tailored to their specific requirements. This would eliminate JAMB’s one-size-fits-all approach, allowing institutions to assess students based on criteria that matter to them.
Additionally, universities could collaborate regionally, establishing a unified but flexible admissions process that reduces student burden and increases efficiency. A more holistic system, one that considers academic performance, extracurricular activities, and personal statements, could provide a fairer assessment of a student’s potential rather than relying on a single high-pressure test.
Technology must also play a central role in any reform. Online applications, remote proctoring, and digital verification should replace the outdated paper-based processes that currently dominate Nigerian universities. Lessons can be learned from systems worldwide, such as the United States’ SAT model or South Africa’s centralized but flexible university admissions process.
Nigeria’s higher education system should not be a test of survival. It should be a launchpad for young minds, a gateway to knowledge, and a place where potential is nurtured rather than stifled by bureaucracy. A nation that prides itself on being Africa’s giant must not continue to operate a 19th-century university system in the 21st century.
Transparency, efficiency, and adaptability must drive any reform efforts. The current system, built on inefficiency and unnecessary hurdles, is long overdue for dismantling. The future of millions of young Nigerians depends on it.
It is time for merit, not bureaucracy, to lead the way.
Shaakaa Stephanie
University of Agriculture Makurdi, Benue State
