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JAMB 2025 exam failure: How a software glitch undermined nearly 400,000 students

Behind it all was a catastrophic systems failure. A software glitch compromised the exam experience of nearly 380,000 candidates.
7 minute read
JAMB 2025 exam failure: How a software glitch undermined nearly 400,000 students

In early May 2025, a storm of complaints erupted across Nigeria’s digital space. From Lagos to Enugu, students and parents spoke in angry, desperate tones about the Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME), the high-stakes exam administered by the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB). Their stories, shared online and in interviews, were marked by confusion, tears and in at least one tragic case, death.

Behind it all was a catastrophic systems failure. A software glitch compromised the exam experience of nearly 400,000 candidates.

According to JAMB’s official statements, 2025’s UTME rollout was marred by a missed server update. While most of the over 700 CBT centres nationwide implemented the latest patch, 157 centres, predominantly in Lagos and Nigeria’s Southeast, failed to comply. As a result, hundreds of thousands of candidates were hit by issues ranging from frozen screens to incomplete submissions.

JAMB had introduced computer-based testing (CBT) back in 2013, fully replacing paper exams by 2015. The move to digital was meant to make things more efficient and transparent, but technical problems have followed them through the years. Candidates have struggled with power outages, system crashes, and login errors in past exams; in 2015, 2023, and 2024, to name a few, but the scale of disruption in 2025 was unlike anything before.

A critical software update deployed in 2025 was intended to fix long-standing issues and improve exam security. The new system shifted to source-based scoring, where each student’s unique version of the test was scored accurately, and introduced full randomisation of questions and answers to curb cheating. Additionally, performance patches were aimed at reducing lag during exams. Unfortunately, this update wasn’t rolled out evenly.

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A high-level technical review led by Registrar Professor Ishaq Oloyede, and attended by technology experts, including Educare CEO Alex Onyia, revealed the problem. While servers in Kaduna were updated as planned, the Lagos cluster, which also serves the South-East region, was left on older software. This meant 157 centres: 92 in the South-East and 65 in Lagos, were running systems that couldn’t correctly interpret the shuffled questions and answers, leading to severe marking errors affecting close to 380,000 candidates.

Adding to the problem is JAMB’s network design, which shows structural weaknesses. Each region should have its own dedicated server cluster to ensure reliability, but the South-East depends entirely on Lagos’s servers, which are over 450 kilometres away. The CBT centres are meant to operate on local area networks for speed and stability, but relying on distant servers without robust, high-speed connections opens the door to latency and failure. Despite a ₦2.7 billion budget for CBT infrastructure in 2024, these critical gaps were left unaddressed.

The fallout from these technical issues was devastating for students. Many reported being logged out mid-exam, facing frozen screens and incomplete submissions. 

JAMB Registrar Ishaq Oloyede took public responsibility, stating in a press conference:

“We failed in some areas… and for that, we apologise. Every affected candidate will be allowed a resit at no cost.”

Yet the apology arrived late for many, including 19-year-old Timilehin Faith Opesusi, who reportedly died by suicide after receiving a score far below her expectations. Her family and peers suspect the score did not reflect her ability, but a system that failed her.

The figures are overwhelming. 206,610 candidates affected in Lagos alone. But the real toll lies in the stories of the individuals behind the numbers. Their accounts reveal a deeper crisis of trust in a system that, for decades, has controlled access to Nigeria’s most precious asset: education.

Bayode Olalekan, a teacher and education commentator who mentors JAMB candidates through online platforms, was blunt in his frustration:

“They say TikTok won’t let these kids read, so let them resit next year. But that’s a lazy argument. These students prepared. Many still failed, not because of their efforts, but because of glitches they couldn’t control. We’ve got 500,000 who passed—great. But what about the rest? They deserve justice, not judgment.”

For Abiola Mogaji Lawal, the glitch hit home. Her daughter, a high-performing secondary school graduate, couldn’t finish the exam after being logged out twice mid-test.

“She tried everything. Kept going back to the centre. We sent complaints to JAMB. Nothing. I’m watching her confidence crack over something that wasn’t her fault. You work hard for years, and it’s all reduced to this moment, and then that moment is sabotaged by poor infrastructure.”

Jemilah Aliyu, a former UTME candidate, doesn’t believe this is a one-off issue. Her criticisms are broader and sharper:

“I honestly don’t understand why JAMB hasn’t been scrapped. It does more harm than good. It locks students into schools and courses they don’t want. It stifles dreams. In my exam, my on-screen calculator didn’t even appear. When I told the official, he just shrugged and said, ‘Use it like that.’ That single moment ruined my chance of getting into the course I wanted.”

Read also: JAMB 2025 result problems? Here’s how to check and fix them

Only 21.5% of the over 1.94 million candidates this year scored 200 or more. A stark drop from past performances. While JAMB insists the scoring was accurate for unaffected centres, critics argue that the glitch’s psychological effect on candidates, even those who managed to complete the test, has yet to be accounted for.

The broader challenge, however, is structural. JAMB’s centralised testing model has long been a point of contention. For decades, it has served as a bottleneck to higher education, arbitrarily sorting students through a combination of cutoff marks and institutional quotas that often have little to do with merit or aspiration.

This isn’t the first time a Nigerian government agency has stumbled in its digital transformation journey. In 2017, JAMB itself came under fire when thousands of prospective candidates were unable to access its website during the registration period; a failure linked to poor infrastructure and minimal system maintenance. 

Fast forward a few years, and the cracks have widened. The National Identity Management Commission (NIMC) and the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) both experienced data breaches that exposed personal and financial records of Nigerians to unauthorised platforms, often sold for as little as ₦100. Even the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) wasn’t spared. During the 2023 presidential election, INEC admitted that its Result Viewing Portal (IReV) had suffered a technical glitch. Officials blamed the failure on the complexity and sensitivity of the system, compounded by the persistent threat of cyberattacks.

What happens next?

In response to public backlash, JAMB announced that all affected candidates would be given a second chance to write the exam beginning Friday, May 16. In addition, technical specialists and regulatory bodies, including the Computer Professionals Registration Council of Nigeria (CPN), have been brought in to audit the process.

But for many, this resit is too little, too late. Students have already missed application deadlines for some institutions. Others are grappling with burnout, frustration, and the emotional fallout of failure imposed by technology.

Legal action is reportedly brewing, with over 8,000 formal complaints lodged and class action suits under consideration.

The 2025 JAMB glitch has become more than a technical error. It’s a national reckoning. It exposes deep flaws in the way Nigeria assesses, admits, and supports its future workforce. Whether this moment sparks lasting reform or fades into bureaucratic silence remains to be seen.

But for now, thousands of young Nigerians are left wondering if the system built to measure their potential is the one limiting it.