Will Professor Oloyede’s JAMB Finally Listen to the People?

Some of the responses to the conduct of JAMB registrar Prof. Is-haq Oloyede appear to be explained by the fact that it is unusual for public leaders in our society to acknowledge their mistakes, much less give a heartfelt apology. Extreme vilification or wild applause were the responses to Oloyede because we are accustomed to bad leaders elevating themselves and labeling anyone who poses valid questions as “haters.” Consider the Academic Staff Union of Universities’ University of Nigeria chapter, which vowed to sue JAMB and claimed a plot against their area. One would have expected them to ask JAMB reasonable questions rather than just droning on and on, even if pursuing legal action was part of their duty.

They were no better than their Yoruba counterparts. At least three institutions’ administrations stepped out to “stand with” Oloyede: the Federal University of Technology, Akure; Lagos State University; and the University of Ilorin. Why? You can see why mediocrity flourishes in Nigeria when you observe them going above and beyond to offer a tribal compatriot a moral shield. We have very low standards as a people. We should tremble to think that these are the folks who are educating the next generation.

Opinion hawkers are always eager to blame a generational deficit for students’ low performance on exams like the UTME. Students will be held accountable for their constant use of social media and lack of seriousness. However, they cheer and suggest that the public official in charge of the examination body be appointed to additional public positions when he fails!

The strong reactions to Oloyede’s acknowledgment of failure led me to identify several issues. One is that there is a serious lack of institutional trust in Nigeria. To a certain extent, that issue exists in every community, but the local stress is so great that we are easily unable to see the obvious.

The anxiety that usually grips Nigerians when the regional (or religious) blocs they identify with are distant from the centers of political power governs those whose conspiratorial worldview will not allow them to acknowledge that this could be a genuine error on the side of JAMB. Since reality cannot possibly be simple, these individuals must search for the story behind every situation that comes up. Those who go to Oloyede’s defense also don’t help the situation. They overcompensate for a crisis of institutional trust deficit by elevating an individual above the system. Beyond these little fears, there is more at risk in the JAMB issue.

In my earlier piece about JAMB during the Mmesoma Ejikeme scandal, I stated that the organization needed to realize that its organizational capabilities directly affect the future of millions of young Nigerians. As a result, it should establish a procedure for handling contentious matters or public criticism. In Nigeria, where academic qualifications drive social mobility, JAMB plays a significant role in determining who or what most of us will become in life.

You cannot afford to respond casually to anyone who has worries about your operations when you are so important to people’s futures. You can be forceful and determined when addressing concerns while remaining sensitive to what you represent when responding to detractors, even the narrow-minded ones. Rather, JAMB displays the arrogant self-righteousness of a company that has let the praise of its registrar’s highly regarded honesty enter its mind. They act as though every grievance originates from a bitter loser.

At every opportunity, Oloyede discusses his creative attempts to curb exam misconduct, yet he rarely touches on the issue of enhancing the applicants’ experience. He was interviewed by certain journalists on the day of the 2025 UTME test. He responded dismissively to those who voiced concerns about the exam timetable. He claimed that those who made the comments were “making a case out of no case,” “people who have no job,” and “people with a mob mentality.” Some of the comments were feedback that he needed to make the necessary changes, but he was too conceited to listen. He even made a comparison between the 88 amexam time and the hour at which regular workdays resume.

The distinction between going to work as a regular activity and taking a high-stakes exam should be obvious to a JAMB registrant.

The problem with individuals like Oloyede—and I’ll join education minister Dr. Tunji Alausa here—is that they come from an older generation that has an antiquated notion of what “standards” are. Their generation believes that younger people have it too easy because they traveled five kilometers to school. If you tell them there’s a better way to do anything, they won’t change their mind.

It would be a betrayal of some high standards of difficulty to which they are inextricably bound if they made a method simpler. “It was hard for me in my time; it must be hard for you too” is the thinking that underlies it.

Alausa came to the conclusion that failure was the measure of achievement after learning about this year’s dismal exam results. I’m willing to wager that every review session they have following an exam is plagued by the false notion that students alone bear the responsibility for success or failure: the more people fail, the more they believe that things are improving!

People like Alausa or Oloyede will probably laugh if you try to explain that some exceptional students fare poorly on tests because they are bad test takers. Not everyone with brilliance performs well on tests, yet our society lacks the flexibility to recognize individual variations. We believe that everyone works in the same way, and we consistently fail to accommodate those who are left behind by the system’s inflexibility. It has a shaped-out or shaped-up shape. In an attempt to recover their breath, did they question what percentage of pupils who were supposed to report by 6.30 am failed as opposed to those who did not show up at the centers?

Why not allow students to select a time period that may work best for them, rather than requiring them to report for an exam at 6:30 am? At certain times of the day, some people are not able to function well.

Furthermore, why should the test be administered on the same day to nearly two million people? How about distributing it over a year? Instead of being held annually, the exam might be held every three months. Why should someone who missed the test due to circumstances beyond their control or who failed because they had a poor day have to wait another year to retake it? Furthermore, why not allow individuals to retake the test and choose the highest score for their application to universities?

Why, once more, should the exam’s validity end after a year? JAMB doesn’t have to be so rigid.

Lastly, I genuinely believe Oloyede deserves praise for his readiness to own up to his shortcomings. He could have pulled a cover-up, and the typical internet audience that believes that a single person’s honesty is all that is needed for JAMB to succeed would have bragged about his infallibility. Even the prematurely speaking minister would have been complicit in a cover-up. However, Oloyede acknowledged his mistakes.

It is important to recognize that fundamental minimum in our society. For the simple reason that JAMB gives the government back money that hasn’t been used, I have never truly believed the notion that the man is an example of integrity. Nonetheless, Oloyede set an example of public accountability for the one instance in which he acknowledged his mistakes. Now, that exemplifies personal integrity far better.