AIYEKOOTO : THE EXAMINATION TOLL GATE

By Lanre Ogundipe

When national examination bodies migrated from paper and pencil to Computer-Based Testing, the transition was celebrated as a decisive triumph over some of the oldest weaknesses in public examinations. The promise was compelling: reduce question leakage, eliminate answer-script substitution, automate marking and create a cleaner, more secure assessment system.

But technology did not abolish the gatekeeper.

It changed the gate.

The paper-and-pencil era had its syndicates, middlemen and examination cheats. The digital era has created a different vulnerability: access to the examination process itself can become a source of dependence, additional cost and potential exploitation.

That distinction matters because a national examination is not an ordinary commercial service. It is a public gateway through which young citizens compete for admission to universities, polytechnics, colleges of education and other institutions of learning. Where access to that gateway depends substantially on private infrastructure, the state has an obligation to ensure that the candidate does not become a captive customer.

Consider the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board.

For the 2026 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination, JAMB published an approved fee structure that includes charges payable to CBT centres for registration and examination services. The Board has also warned candidates against paying unauthorised additional charges and urged them to report centres that violate the approved fee structure.

That fact changes the nature of the argument.

The question is not whether CBT centres should be paid. They provide infrastructure and services and, under the approved framework, are entitled to prescribed charges.

The question is what happens after the official price has been established.

What exactly is the candidate permitted to pay?

What is already covered by the approved charge?

What, if anything, can a centre legitimately demand beyond it?

And when an operator asks for money outside the approved framework, how quickly and effectively can the candidate obtain redress?

These questions become particularly important in places where accredited centres are limited and candidates have little practical choice. A student in a community with only one conveniently accessible centre is not negotiating in a competitive market. The operator may effectively control the physical gateway through which the candidate must pass.

That is where a legitimate service arrangement can begin to resemble a toll gate.

The point is not to accuse every CBT operator of exploitation. That would be unfair and unsupported. JAMB itself has put measures in place to curb abuse, including payments to participating CBT centres and compliance mechanisms intended to protect candidates.

But if the regulatory system already pays centres for prescribed services, any additional unauthorised demand becomes a matter of public accountability.

And the asymmetry is obvious.

The operator controls the facility.

The examination body controls accreditation.

The candidate needs the examination.

Who, then, carries the practical burden when something goes wrong?

Technical failure makes the question even more important.

A CBT centre is not simply a room containing computers. It is an examination facility whose power supply, connectivity, equipment, biometric systems and technical readiness can determine whether hundreds of candidates are able to sit for an examination as scheduled.

When those systems fail, the consequences are not evenly distributed.

A faulty computer is an operational problem for the centre.

A disrupted examination can become a personal crisis for the candidate.

Transport may have to be rearranged. Accommodation may become necessary. Parents may incur additional expenses. A candidate may lose a day’s work or schooling. Anxiety rises. An examination that was supposed to measure knowledge and aptitude suddenly becomes an exercise in navigating an infrastructure failure.

To its credit, JAMB provides procedures for candidates affected by technical problems, including rescheduling and channels for reporting irregularities at CBT centres.

But rescheduling is a remedy for examination disruption. It does not automatically answer the larger question of accountability for the disruption.

Who pays the operational price of failure?

That is how serious public administration should approach outsourced infrastructure.

If a centre is accredited to host a national examination, accreditation should come with clearly defined obligations for equipment, power redundancy, connectivity, technical support, security and candidate welfare.

And where those obligations are breached, consequences must follow.

JAMB’s own conduct demonstrates that enforcement is possible. The Board has delisted CBT centres over technical deficiencies and taken other disciplinary measures against centres that failed to meet required standards.

That is the right principle.

Accreditation should not be a permanent entitlement. It should be a conditional licence tied to measurable performance.

But the larger issue goes beyond JAMB.

Nigeria has embraced digital examinations without completely resolving the public-infrastructure question that accompanies them. The examination has become digital, but a substantial part of the physical environment in which it is delivered remains outside direct government ownership.

There is nothing inherently wrong with that.

Governments routinely use private providers to deliver public services. The problem begins when outsourcing infrastructure is mistaken for outsourcing responsibility.

Digitalisation without accountability can simply relocate the gatekeeper.

The old gatekeeper may have been the examiner who leaked a question paper. The new vulnerability may lie in the private facility that controls access to the examination environment.

The technology is different.

The governance question is familiar.

Who sets the standard?

Who pays the provider?

Who monitors performance?

Who investigates complaints?

Who bears the cost of failure?

And who protects the candidate when the institution responsible for providing the service does not deliver it properly?

Those questions should be answered before another circular is issued.

The answer is not a return to paper examinations. Nor is it enough to warn operators against overcharging. What is required is a system in which the official cost of accessing a public examination is transparent, enforceable and genuinely protected from unofficial additions.

Every accredited centre should operate under clearly displayed rules on permissible charges. Payments should be traceable. Complaints should generate verifiable records and resolution trails. Accreditation should be tied to technical performance. Unauthorised charges should attract sanctions. Repeated technical failures should have consequences for the operator, rather than becoming a recurring inconvenience for candidates.

And where the state depends extensively on private centres, it should progressively develop enough public capacity to prevent local infrastructure shortages from becoming de facto monopolies.

The objective is not to destroy private participation.

It is to ensure that private participation does not become private control of a public gateway.

A poor student should be able to enter the examination system knowing exactly what the state requires, exactly what the examination costs and exactly where to complain when somebody demands more.

No young Nigerian should have to negotiate an unofficial toll to access an officially regulated examination.

An examination is supposed to measure preparation, knowledge and aptitude.

It should not measure the candidate’s ability to navigate whoever happens to control the door.

When education is the road to social mobility, every toll placed on that road deserves scrutiny.

The examination must remain a test of the student—not a test of the student’s wallet.

Lanre Ogundipe, Public Affairs Analyst, former President, Nigeria and Africa Union of Journalists, writes from Abuja.