Maria Ifafesobi

The Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) on Tuesday, July 8, 2025, announced the minimum cut-off marks for the 2024 admissions into tertiary institutions across Nigeria, 150 for universities, 140 for colleges of nursing, and a strikingly low 100 for polytechnics and colleges of education. The decision, though seen by some as a way of creating wider access to higher education, has sparked widespread debate across the country, with strong opinions emerging on all sides.
For many Nigerians, the news felt like a crossroads, between inclusion and excellence, access and quality. On one end are those who believe this move will accommodate a broader range of students who might otherwise be shut out of tertiary education. They see it as an opportunity to correct long-standing inequalities in the system. “Not everyone is cut out for traditional excellence,” said Mr. Chuka Osemene, a Lagos-based father of two UTME candidates. “This new benchmark gives struggling students a chance. Let’s not punish them for the failures of the system.”
But others worry that JAMB’s move represents a dangerous lowering of the bar. “This is not inclusivity. This is mediocrity in disguise,” lamented Mrs. Bolaji Adeyemi, a retired teacher in Ibadan. She’s among many who question how a country like Nigeria, striving to compete globally, can justify such minimal academic requirements. Online, the reactions have been no less intense. Social media has become a battleground of opinions, with young people, educationists, and parents expressing everything from cautious optimism to outright anger. “It’s like JAMB is telling us excellence doesn’t matter anymore,” said Tife, a 2024 UTME candidate who scored 245 but remains anxious about securing admission into her dream course.
Beyond the immediate emotions, the deeper worry lies in what this means for educational standards. With already overstretched facilities, underpaid lecturers, and curricula that struggle to keep up with modern trends, many fear that an influx of underprepared students could overwhelm an already fragile system. Critics argue that the problem is not how many students are admitted, but whether institutions are ready, academically and infrastructurally to train them to the highest standard.
“You don’t solve a problem by diluting standards,” said Dr. Nura Yusuf, a lecturer at a federal university. He echoed the growing concern among academics who feel that opening the gates wider without upgrading the system amounts to setting students up for failure. And the consequences could be long-lasting.
In the short term, students with lower scores may celebrate admission offers. But in the long term, they risk becoming part of a generation of graduates who are ill-equipped for the demands of the job market. In an economy that increasingly values innovation, critical thinking, and technical skill, degrees that do not reflect strong academic grounding could further diminish the employability of Nigerian graduates. Employers may begin to look elsewhere, even beyond the country, for talent.
This also feeds into a wider concern: the deepening divide between public and private institutions. As standards in public universities decline, wealthier families will continue to send their children to better-funded private schools, further widening the inequality gap. The very idea of education as a path to social mobility already under pressure could erode even further.
And there’s the national question too. Nigeria’s development depends on the strength of its human capital. When educational policies compromise quality, the nation pays the price economically, politically, and socially. The ripple effect of half-baked graduates is already evident in sectors where competence should be non-negotiable healthcare, engineering, civil service, and even governance. “We’re not just lowering marks; we’re lowering morale,” said Professor Ladi Okonkwo, a sociologist. “This move risks entrenching underachievement as a norm.”
But if the solution isn’t to lower cut-off marks, then what is? Education stakeholders argue that the real work lies in long-term structural reform. The curriculum needs a serious overhaul, one that includes digital literacy, critical thinking, and entrepreneurship. Institutions must be equipped with modern facilities, and the quality of primary and secondary education must improve to raise the bar from the bottom up. Lecturers should be supported and trained to meet new challenges, and admissions processes must become more transparent, with individual departments given the flexibility to set appropriate entry standards.
Ultimately, JAMB’s decision may have been made with good intentions to allow more students into higher institutions but it’s raised fundamental questions about where Nigeria is headed as a country. Access is important, but without quality, it’s hollow. What students need isn’t just a seat in a lecture hall; they need an education that challenges them, prepares them, and empowers them to face the future with confidence.
Now more than ever, the conversation must move beyond the numbers. It’s time to stop treating education like a political tool and start treating it as the nation’s most valuable investment. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about how many are admitted but how many are truly educated.
