I stumbled upon a flyer from Christ College, Zaria—an unassuming school by many standards—listing students who scored 300 and above in the UTME. Fifteen names graced the page, the lowest score being a staggering 302 and the highest, an almost mythical 371.
My first reaction was a mix of awe and mischief. I chuckled and muttered under my breath, “So, where are the big-name schools now?” You know the ones—those elite institutions nestled in Abuja, Lagos, Jos, Kano, and Minna, where fees can rival university tuition, and where some believe excellence is simply a price tag away.
I admit, my suspicion might come off as petty or premature, maybe even biased. But it’s a suspicion rooted in years of quiet observation. I remember when JAMB used to print student profiles on the back of its brochure. I followed them religiously, convinced that the highest performers would come from the most prestigious schools. But over time, that illusion unraveled. Time and again, the most brilliant minds didn’t emerge from the most expensive classrooms.
In fact, many top scorers in UTME and graduates with first-class degrees often come from average, sometimes overlooked schools—public schools even. The so-called “miracle centers” have tainted the integrity of some private school results, so I deliberately avoid drawing examples from WASSCE or NECO. But UTME? That’s a different ball game.
Let me give you a living example. There’s a young lady currently her internship after bagging a first-class degree in Nursing. She finished from Model School, Bida—a government school that rarely gets the spotlight. Before you argue that things have changed, here’s another: a lady I know who just graduated with first class in Accounting from BUK also attended that same Model School. These are not outdated tales—they’re the reality, still unfolding.
This isn’t just a reflection. It’s a call for debate—an invitation to reexamine the illusion that expensive means exceptional. Private schools with astronomical fees parade themselves as the epitome of quality, yet often fail to produce the results to match their glossy reputations. With slogans like “not for civil servants,” they flaunt exclusivity more than academic substance.
Yes, we all want the best for our children. The desperation for excellent results has become a wild race, a stampede even. Parents are spending fortunes, hoping to secure a golden future through elite education. But what if that future isn’t for sale?
When schools charge sky-high fees, we expect nothing less than excellence—stellar O’Level results, UTME scores to envy, and perhaps some additional polish. But when average schools are producing the same, sometimes even better results, one begins to ask: what exactly are we paying for? Prestige? Proximity to the children of the country’s elite?
Let’s be honest—the traditional public institutions are still holding their own. Federal Government Colleges, Science Colleges, Technical Schools—these places have been silent powerhouses for decades. Back then, they produced the majority of students heading into medicine, pharmacy, engineering, and other tough fields. And today? They’re still at it. A senior colleague recently told me her daughter got into UDUS to study Veterinary Medicine after graduating from Maryam Babangida Girls’ Science College in Minna.
In our current economy—where grit, resilience, and adaptability matter more than comfort—the pampering culture of expensive schools could be more of a liability than an asset. Lavish meals, personal laundry, over-scheduled leisure…all well and good. But what happens when the job market starts asking for something else? The ability to multitask, to manage pressure, to think critically, to rise under fire? There’s no buffet that builds that.
All of this reinforces a truth I’ve long suspected: a child’s success depends more on the child than on the school. Sure, great teachers can make learning easier, offer fresh perspectives, and open intellectual doors. But no knowledge truly sticks without personal effort. Excellence doesn’t come from air-conditioned classrooms—it comes from determination.
And perhaps, the final irony: while we strive to surround our kids with plenty, it is often in lack that true greatness is born. Challenge ignites potential far more than comfort ever could.
So, let’s take a deep breath. Let’s not bleed ourselves dry trying to get our children into “the most talked-about school” in town. What truly matters is what happens inside the child—not what surrounds them.
Bagudu Mohammed
