Senior secondary school students across Nigeria are currently sitting their external examinations. They began with the Senior School Certificate Examination and are now writing the National Examinations Council (NECO) examinations.
Yet, one disturbing trend appears to unite many of them: the determination to pass by any means necessary. Rather than preparing diligently, many have embraced every possible shortcut except genuine study.
One of the first papers written was Data Processing. After the examination, some students were excitedly discussing the paper. Curious, I asked how it went. They candidly admitted that most of the questions were unfamiliar to them.
Seeing my surprise, they alleged that their school had “oiled the palms” of the invigilators, who deliberately looked the other way while teachers assisted the candidates. The school in question is one I had always regarded as highly reputable.
Another student claimed that during registration for the external examinations, each candidate was compelled to pay an additional fee. According to the student, the money was said to have been used to compromise the invigilators and ensure they became willing accomplices. Ironically, this same school has earned widespread praise for recording a 100 per cent pass rate in external examinations because none of its students supposedly fails any subject.
The school itself is far from exceptional. Located within an ordinary community, it has chosen to offer hope to struggling students through dishonest means. It has built a reputation as a “magic centre,” attracting candidates who have repeatedly failed core subjects such as Mathematics and English Language. The school often boasts that even older mission-owned institutions cannot match its performance. But can such a claim genuinely be considered an achievement?
The culture of shortcuts
A concerned mother, worried that her son was not studying seriously for his examinations, decided to supervise him personally. Although he was due to sit for Geography the following day, she found him playing games on his phone instead of reading. Later, when she expected him to be studying, he had already gone to bed.
Determined to ensure he revised, she approached his room around midnight. Before knocking, however, she overheard him speaking excitedly on the phone. Curious, she listened as the caller informed her son that the examination questions had already been uploaded to a website. After the conversation ended, she entered the room and confronted him.
The young man admitted that he relied on websites that supplied external examination questions rather than, in his words, “reading blindly.” His mother said she was deeply disappointed and believed the only meaningful response was to appeal to her son’s conscience. What hurt her most, she explained, was that he had always been an exceptionally brilliant child.
Where exactly did society lose its way? Was it because corruption was never confronted decisively, or because it was consistently treated with kid gloves? Every participant in examination malpractice shares the blame. Parents who willingly pay to secure good grades for their children are guilty.
Schools desperate to maintain perfect examination records are equally guilty. Invigilators who betray their professional responsibilities for financial gain are guilty, just as students who knowingly participate in the fraud are guilty.
Government, too, cannot escape responsibility. Everything suggests that many schools widely known as “magic centres” are guilty as charged. Yet, has any government established a commission of inquiry to thoroughly investigate the problem and recommend lasting solutions? Has any school been permanently shut down for encouraging or facilitating examination malpractice?
A system that rewards dishonesty
The Mathematics examination has become notorious for widespread malpractice. A young teenager whose parents registered him to sit an external examination before his final secondary school examinations recalled his first experience.
“For the first time in my life, I saw people moving around during an examination to help themselves,” he alleged.
What happened afterwards shocked him even more. He claimed that a man stood at the front of the examination hall and openly dictated the answers to the objective questions. Before doing so, he warned those who considered themselves “holier than thou” either to join in or remain silent because, he claimed, most of those present had already failed Mathematics several times and were determined not to fail again.
“Instead of allowing my efforts to go to waste, I spared myself the stress and joined the bandwagon,” the young man claimed.
His confession perfectly illustrates the dangerous mentality that says, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”
Every examination naturally brings anxiety and anticipation. Students question their level of preparedness, worry about the outcome and wait anxiously for their results. In earlier generations, it was this very anxiety that motivated students to burn the midnight oil.
The first time I heard the expression “TDB”—meaning “Till Day Break”—was during my secondary school years. It referred to studying continuously from the previous day until the morning of the examination. Senior students preparing for external examinations embraced the practice to ensure they covered every topic thoroughly and avoided unpleasant surprises in the examination hall. Their goal was simple: write the examination once and pass with distinction.
Restoring the value of hard Work
To survive a TDB study session required determination. Students often took cold baths regardless of the weather, drank Nescafé or chewed bitter kolanut to stay awake. As dawn approached, some even soaked their legs in cold water to fight sleep.
Studying with a partner was encouraged so that each person could wake the other if exhaustion took over. That was the sacrifice many of us willingly made to earn good results honestly.
In those days, examination malpractice was virtually unheard of. It was rarely discussed because it simply was not considered an option. Mission schools deployed strict teachers to ensure students neither whispered nor exchanged information during examinations. Being branded a cheat brought lasting shame.
Today, sadly, the situation has changed dramatically. Many young people no longer see the need to study. Instead, they seek success through dishonest means, aided by adults who ought to know better. It is increasingly common to encounter individuals holding impressive certificates that they cannot defend.
Government repeatedly warns that anyone caught engaging in examination malpractice risks facing the full weight of the law, including a prison sentence of up to 21 years. However, if Nigeria’s certificates are to retain their credibility both at home and abroad, warnings alone will not suffice.
Parents, schools, teachers, examination bodies, security agencies, government institutions and students themselves must all work together to restore integrity to the nation’s examination system. Only then can academic success once again reflect genuine knowledge, hard work and merit.