Nigeria just set 150/400 as the minimum university admission score. That's 37.5%.
Polytechnics? 100/400. A pass mark of 25%.
This is how nations fail.
Meanwhile:
🇨🇳 China — 10 million students compete annually in the Gaokao. One exam. Brutal. No mercy. You either earn your place or you don't.
🇰🇷 South Korea — the Suneung is so serious that military drills stop, flights are rerouted, and the entire country goes quiet on exam day. 31% of students retake it to improve.
🇯🇵 Japan — entrance exams are so rigorous that students spend years in preparation school (ronin) just to qualify.
Oxford and Harvard don't lower the bar so more people can get in. They raise the bar so the best are forced to rise.
Nigeria has over 200 million people, the talent exists, but when you tell a generation that 37.5% is enough, you get garbage in, garbage out — at every level of public life.
The crisis in Nigeria isn't just political. It starts here.
#Nigeria #Education #JAMB #NigeriaEducation #HowNationsFail
The energy they have to bully Simi for days has never been used on any rapist or murderer. Remember that next time you ask women to consider “false rape accusations” Men do not care about victims, they don’t want rapists punished, they want women to stay silent about sexual abuse
Sometimes when you see a lady refuse to let a man sit behind her on a bike, don’t be too quick to judge.
Let me tell you why.
Back in 2012/2013, my parents were very strict about time. If I wasn’t home before 7pm, I’d be grounded and I h8td that. One day, I went to Ikeja and was rushing back home to Ota. To save time, I took a bike from the Ikeja to tollgate and allowed a man to sit behind me so we could share the ride.
When I got down, I noticed people staring. A woman called me aside and told me there was something on my jeans. I checked properly… and it was sperm. The man who sat behind me had ejácũlated on me.
I was sh0cked. Embârrassed. I almost cried. Thankfully, the woman helped me clean up with water, but the hūm!li!ation stayed with me.
Since that day, if I can’t afford to take a bike alone, I’ll enter a bus. I don’t care how long it takes me to get home.
So when some women refuse to let men sit behind them on bikes, understand that sometimes it’s not pride, it’s protection.
Back in JSS2, I was announced as the Time Keeper during a Monday assembly.
The reaction? 😅
You’d think Nigeria just won the World Cup. Students were shouting, celebrating. Even teachers were congratulating me.
I felt seen.
I felt loved.
And for once, I believed I actually deserved it.
Here’s the thing:
In that school, being Time Keeper meant one thing, you were automatically on track to become Senior Prefect (Head Boy) the next year. It was a known tradition!
I got home that day, excited, and told my dad the news.
His mood changed instantly😑
Later that night, I overheard him telling my mum:
“What kind of school makes such boy (according to him a dullard🥲) an aspiring head boy? That sentence sure did something to me💔 That was the last day I ever stepped foot into BOHS a school I loved so dearly.
He changed my school the following Monday, I resumed at Genius Royal Academy, Ring Road.
New school. New environment. Same me!
Guess what happened the next year?
I was made Assistant Senior Prefect.
Different school. Same recognition🙂
So yeah…
Jokes on my dad. LMAO.
The Bible says the Husband is the head of his wife. It didn't say men are the head of women.
Single men are not the head of anything.
If they insist on being a head still, they can start a WhatsApp group and be the admin.
Or better still, they can throw a ball up and 'head' it.😄
I almost died giving birth to our daughter.
Forty-two hours of labor. Emergency C-section. I remember the cold of the operating room and the way the doctors wouldn’t meet my eyes. They said if we had waited another hour, one of us wouldn’t have made it.
I woke up stitched, shaking, numb from the chest down.
He didn’t hold my hand. He didn’t cry. He just asked the doctor if the scar would be “permanent.”
When we got home, I could barely walk. I couldn’t laugh without pain shooting through my stomach. I needed help sitting up. He complained that the house was messy. Said maternity leave wasn’t a vacation.
Two weeks postpartum, he stood over me while I was trying to latch the baby and said, “You know women are supposed to give birth naturally. My mom did.”
I thought he was joking.
He wasn’t.
One night I overheard him on the phone with his brother saying, “She didn’t even give birth properly. They just cut her open.”
Cut her open.
Like I wasn’t split in half to bring his child into this world.
When I finally looked at my scar in the mirror, still swollen and purple, I didn’t see weakness. I saw survival. But every time he looked at me, I saw disappointment.
Then it got worse.
He stopped touching me. Started going to the gym every night. Said he “needed a woman who takes care of herself.” I was still bleeding. Still leaking milk. Still waking up every two hours.
One evening he tossed a waist trainer onto the bed and said, “You should start fixing it before it’s too late.”
I asked him what “it” was.
He pointed at my stomach.
I slept in the nursery that night. Not because the baby cried. Because I did.
Now he tells people I’ve “changed” since having the baby. That I’m emotional. That I don’t try anymore.
I almost died. I gave him a daughter. I carry a scar that aches when it rains.
And somehow I’m the one who failed.
I don’t know who I married. I don’t know how to leave. But I know this can’t be what love looks like.
I have been watching the conversations around Lent and Hallelujah Challenge, and honestly, I feel the need to speak — not from a place of attack, but from understanding.
I was once a Catholic. I was in Seminary. I desired to be a priest before life took a different turn. So I understand what Lent means. I understand Ash Wednesday. I understand abstaining from meat on Fridays. I understand confession. I understand the discipline and the doctrine.
And because I understand it, I also know this:
Lent is not just about what you remove from your plate.
It is about what you remove from your heart.
It is not just about avoiding meat on Fridays.
It is about crucifying pride, anger, dishonor, and hatred daily.
It is not just about going to confession every week.
It is about living in a way that reflects what Jesus did on the Cross.
Lent is a season of reflection on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. A season of humility. A season of repentance. A season of examining your own heart.
So when I see some people on X dragging Nathaniel Bassey over Hallelujah Challenge, I ask myself — is this truly the spirit of Lent?
Hallelujah Challenge has been happening every February for years. It did not start yesterday. It did not start to compete with Lent. It has been a consistent altar of worship long before some of the loudest critics even joined it.
And let’s be clear:
He has never told Catholics to abandon Lent.
He has never preached against Catholic doctrine.
He has never forced anyone to choose between Lent and worship.
So why the dragging? Why the dishonor? Why the insults?
If you are Catholic and you believe that during Lent you should not sing “Hallelujah,” then focus on your Lent. That is your conviction. Honor it. Live it. Practice it with integrity.
But why attack someone who is simply leading worship?
You can: – Pause Hallelujah Challenge and focus fully on Lent.
– Participate in both quietly if your conscience allows.
– Or simply scroll past and mind your devotion.
Spiritual maturity means knowing that not every altar is yours — but you don’t destroy what you don’t attend.
The irony is this:
Lent calls for humility.
Yet some responses are full of pride.
Lent calls for repentance.
Yet some comments are full of accusation.
Lent calls for self-examination.
Yet many are busy examining someone else.
Dragging a man of God publicly, speaking with dishonor, and masking it as “defending doctrine” — is that truly the spirit of Christ?
Even within Christianity, there are different expressions of worship. The Body of Christ is diverse. Catholics have their traditions. Pentecostals have theirs. Evangelicals have theirs. The beauty of the Church is not uniformity — it is unity in Christ.
Maturity is understanding that conviction is personal.
Ignorance is assuming your conviction must control everyone else.
If something offends your doctrine, withdraw respectfully. That is strength.
But attacking, insulting, and misrepresenting? That reveals more about the heart than about theology.
As someone who has walked both spaces, I can say this boldly:
Lent should produce gentleness.
Lent should produce restraint.
Lent should produce Christlike character.
Not online warfare.
The world is already watching the Church. And when believers tear each other apart publicly, what testimony are we giving?
We can disagree without dishonor.
We can uphold doctrine without hostility.
We can stand firm without being rude.
And above all, we can remember that worship is not a competition.
If Hallelujah Challenge is not for you during Lent, that is okay.
If Lent is your focus, embrace it fully.
If you choose both, do it in sincerity.
But let us not reduce Christianity to online arguments and spiritual superiority.
Examine your heart.
Guard your words.
Represent Christ well.
Because at the end of the day, it is not about the programs
And if this season is truly about Him, then our character should reflect Him first.
“I hate cancer so much”
“You don’t hate malaria, it kills so many people daily”
“I am talking about cancer right now”
“Ohh my God, she doesn’t care about millions who have died from malaria”
🤡