In Nigeria’s complex higher education admission process, students must first conquer the Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) conducted by JAMB. However, for many, passing JAMB is just the beginning of a longer, more stressful journey, one that leads into the controversial Post-UTME screening organized by universities themselves. This extra examination layer has sparked nationwide debate, with many students and stakeholders accusing universities of using it as a legalized means of extorting desperate admission seekers.
The original purpose of the Post-UTME, according to education authorities, was noble. In 2005, faced with widespread malpractice and credibility issues in the JAMB system, universities sought autonomy to validate the competence of their applicants through their own internal screening. This move was officially approved by the federal government under President Olusegun Obasanjo. But years later, critics argue that what began as a quality-control measure has morphed into a money-making venture.
One stakeholder who preferred to remain anonymous explained, “From WAEC to JAMB to Post-UTME, it’s a three-factor authentication process that students must pay for. It’s simply overkill. At least one of these layers should be removed.” This opinion reflects the growing dissatisfaction among students who see the admission process as increasingly exploitative rather than merit-based.
In contrast, another observer believes that Post-UTME is not entirely without value. “It’s to ensure students are rightly admitted,” he said. “We know that connections and nepotism often give people unfair access to university slots. Post-UTME at least offers some form of transparency and merit.” However, even he admits that corruption is deeply embedded in the system and reform is long overdue.
Still, many students insist that if universities must screen applicants, JAMB should be scrapped. “Why make us pay for JAMB if it doesn’t guarantee anything?” one student asked. “The real extortion is in the duplication of efforts and of fees.” For instance, universities charge anywhere from ₦2,000 to ₦5,000 per student to sit for Post-UTME, a small amount individually, but massive collectively when multiplied by tens of thousands of applicants.
Another frustrated student shared: “Universities know how many people they can admit. So why not just take the top scorers from JAMB and move on? Why make us go through the stress and expense of another test?” This perspective is echoed widely across student communities who feel burdened by repeated, costly assessments.
But defenders of the system say Post-UTME remains essential for quality control. “There was a time when students who scored 300 in JAMB couldn’t spell their names or write basic essays,” a university lecturer revealed. “We had to do something. Post-UTME helped us see who really understood what they claimed to know.”
Yet, critics insist the credibility of the initial motive has been eroded. “Is the Post-UTME still about academic quality, or is it just a backdoor IGR mechanism?” asked a parent. “It’s obvious that many schools now rely on the revenue from these tests to fund operations, which is a failure of public education funding.” This angle exposes the broader systemic rot within Nigeria’s tertiary education system.
Students also complain about the inconsistency and unfairness in how Post-UTME is conducted across different institutions. Some universities rely on written exams, others on online CBTs, and a few conduct only oral interviews. This lack of standardization raises concerns about the objectivity and integrity of the process. Moreover, most universities do not refund payment to students who fail or are not shortlisted, further fueling accusations of exploitation.
A veteran university administrator noted that the conflict between JAMB and university senates over who should control admissions goes back decades. “The Post-UTME saga was born out of universities feeling they lost autonomy,” he said. “And the federal government’s decision to allow it was partly a way to appease their frustration.” However, he admits that many universities now abuse the privilege under the guise of quality assurance.
In response to these growing concerns, some education reform advocates have called for a full review of the university admission process in Nigeria. They suggest streamlining the system to reduce cost and stress on students while maintaining academic integrity. One recommendation is to centralize admissions under JAMB but give universities room to interview or screen students for special programs.
Others propose a return to the 2015 system, where JAMB results were the primary determinant for admission, with minimal university interference. “That system had fewer hurdles, was less costly, and still managed to admit qualified students,” a former student leader remarked. “We don’t need to make higher education harder to access than it already is.”
Ultimately, the controversy over Post-UTME is a reflection of the larger dysfunction within Nigeria’s educational landscape. The lack of trust in institutions, the pressure of limited admission slots, and chronic underfunding all contribute to a system where students feel like prey instead of future leaders. Until comprehensive reforms are made, the cries of extortion will continue to echo from campus to campus.
While stakeholders continue to debate whether Post-UTME should be scrapped or sustained, one fact remains indisputable: the current structure burdens students and their families. For many, the university admission process feels more like a test of endurance than a measure of academic potential, a system begging for a reset.
