When the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) released the statistical breakdown of the 2025 UTME results, social media exploded yet again. And not with applause.

From WhatsApp statuses to X (formerly Twitter) to TikTok, the reactions were swift and loud: “Only 0.24% scored above 320?” “What are Nigerian students even learning?” “This is a national disgrace.” And perhaps the most telling of all: “We have failed these children.”

These reactions are not just emotional outbursts; they are cries from a deeply disappointed public. And rightly so. Out of 1,955069 candidates who sat for the 2025 UTME, a shocking 50.29% scored between 160 and 199; a range that disqualifies them from gaining admission into the highly competitive institutions. Only 0.24% scored 320 and above, while just 0.6% scored 300 and above. The numbers are brutal. But what they reflect is even more disturbing.

Who’s to Blame For the Poor Jamb 2025 Results?

Some parents, during an interview with the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN), expressed their dissatisfaction with the released statistics. While one parent blamed the teachers, saying that quite a number of teachers in Nigeria are unqualified to teach, another reached for the ancient scroll of excuses and summoned the sacred incantation: ‘It’s because they’re always pressing the phone.’

Maybe we can all agree that something is being pressed and it is not the phones, but rather it is Nigeria’s educational system. Let’s be real: this is not just about students “not reading.” It is about an education system that’s been on life support for years. It is a system that hasn’t been working since NEPA became PHCN.

For some, the blame lies squarely on the students—an entire generation that is being seen as TikTokers rather than thinkers. But that’s a lazy argument. These same young people navigate constant strikes, overcrowded classrooms, underpaid teachers, outdated syllabi, and learning environments that seem to be preparing the kids for survival rather than being scholars.

The real issue is systemic. Nigeria’s public education system has been structurally underfunded and neglected. Students in rural Zamfara aren’t just competing with their peers; they’re fighting against poverty, poor infrastructure, inconsistent academic calendars, and underfunded schools. If we are being honest, they deserve an award for even showing up.

What does it say about a country that less than 1% of its students can reach the 300 mark in a standardized test? It says we are not just failing our exams; we are failing our children.

We need to start by asking the hard questions. Why is the curriculum so outdated? Why are schools under-equipped? Why do students still rely on “expo” and miracle centers to survive? Why is teacher training not prioritized? And why are we shocked year after year by results that only mirror the rot we’ve refused to fix?

UTME Is Not the Problem. It’s the Obsession With It.

Why are we still using UTME like it’s the ultimate decoder of intelligence? Progressive countries are testing for creative thinking, problem solving, and collaboration. Here? One bad day in JAMB, and your dreams get wiped like NECO scripts during heavy rain.

We need to open our minds and our policies to include skill-based assessments, continuous evaluation, and vocational education, and yes, exams that don’t feel like a military ambush. You know what else we need? To stop acting shocked every year, like we didn’t know the building was leaking. Sis, it was raining inside last year, too.

But Wait, Is There Hope?

Yes. But not if we keep sweeping issues under the rug like how we sweep dust under the carpets when we were much younger. Until we fix the root causes—policy, teacher welfare, funding, infrastructure- this will continue. We will keep gathering around the fire of poor JAMB results every year like it’s a town hall meeting, sighing, tweeting, complaining, and moving on.

Even UNICEF has begged us to take education seriously. Will we listen? Or are we waiting for the statistics to show that zero students passed the exam? The 2025 JAMB results are not just numbers. They’re a mirror. And every time we look into it, we flinch. Because it shows the cracks, the neglect, and the excuses. If we don’t fix it, this mirror won’t just reflect our failure—it might crack under the weight of our denial.

And when next year’s results drop, we’ll ask again:

“How did we get here?”

Only this time, there may be no one left to answer. Just vibes and Wi-Fi.