From 169 to 298: How a Sister’s Outcry Sparked Redemption for Her Brother in UTME Scandal

In a dramatic turn of events that has captured national attention, a Nigerian lawyer who previously called out the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) over a questionable Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) score for her younger brother has now shared a powerful update that has sent waves of vindication and hope across the internet. Her brother, Babatunde Peace Ilifeoluwa, who scored a mere 169 in the 2024 UTME despite having scored 278 the previous year, has now scored a jaw-dropping 298 in his resit exam.

The news came directly from the source: the lawyer and elder sister behind the social media account @timmieexx. Her voice had been one of the most prominent in the online chorus of Nigerians demanding transparency and justice from JAMB after the 2024 UTME results sparked outrage among thousands of students and parents. Many accused the board of systemic irregularities, technical failures, and inaccuracies in result computation.

At the center of her initial outcry was a simple but devastating contrast: how could her brother, who had demonstrated strong academic capability with a 278 score in 2023, suddenly crash to 169 in 2024? The drop not only defied academic logic but also threatened his university admission dreams, especially in a system where cut-off marks can be unforgiving.

Her outpouring of frustration resonated with many. She wasn’t just a sister fighting for her sibling; she became a voice for countless others whose aspirations were caught in the crossfire of a system many believe is flawed and in need of overhaul.

The tweet that announced the new result was laden with emotion:

“Come and see o, come and see. Man proposes, but God did not dispose of this one. I was never in doubt. Dear Babatunde Peace Ilifeoluwa, Reg Number: 202556. Your 2025 UTME Result: ENG: 71, MAT: 80, PHY: 77, CHE: 70. Aggregate: 298.”

It was more than just a celebration of numbers—it was a statement of triumph, a declaration that the struggle had not been in vain. In her follow-up message, she wrote, “I did not fight in vain. My heart is so full. Congratulations to everyone that took the exams again.” The palpable joy and vindication in her words stood as a testament to resilience in the face of bureaucratic odds.

For many students and families across Nigeria, this story is a microcosm of a much larger problem: a lack of faith in the examination system. JAMB, the body tasked with overseeing Nigeria’s tertiary education entry exams, has long been under scrutiny. Over the years, there have been allegations of server failures, mismatched results, sudden score reductions, and accusations of corruption within the system.

In 2024, these murmurs reached a fever pitch as social media became flooded with stories of students whose results didn’t match their expectations, many of whom claimed they had prepared diligently, attended coaching classes, and had previously excelled in related exams. What should have been a season of celebration and transition to higher education became one of confusion, dashed hopes, and desperate appeals.

But Babatunde’s story, as shared by his sister, now serves as both a cautionary tale and a beacon of hope. It’s cautionary in the sense that it underscores the real-life consequences of flawed testing and the emotional toll it takes on families. Yet, it also highlights the power of speaking out, the strength of persistence, and the importance of public accountability in institutional processes.

Her use of social media played a crucial role. In a country where due process can often feel sluggish or inaccessible, platforms like X (formerly Twitter) have become tools of activism. By sharing her brother’s story, @timmieexx not only humanized the issue but forced a wider conversation. It invited scrutiny, solidarity, and eventually, results—both figuratively and literally.

Babatunde’s new score—an impressive 298—puts him comfortably among the top performers in the country. With English at 71, Mathematics at 80, Physics at 77, and Chemistry at 70, the results speak volumes not only about his academic potential but also about the validity of the original complaint. For those who doubted the sincerity of the protest or assumed it was an emotional overreaction, the resit score offers a quiet but firm rebuttal.

This story, now widely shared across blogs and timelines, is likely to have ripple effects. It may renew pressure on JAMB to improve its systems, introduce third-party auditing, or offer more transparent appeals processes for contested results. It may also empower other students and families to speak up, to demand reviews, or to push back against a system that too often leaves them voiceless.

Yet, beyond the institutional implications, what stands out most is the unbreakable bond between a sister and her brother. Her determination, her willingness to take on an establishment many fear, and her refusal to accept an outcome that didn’t make sense—all of it paints a powerful picture of advocacy and familial love.

As the academic session rolls on and thousands of students prepare for admissions, Babatunde now stands on a new threshold—with his dreams back on track, his name cleared, and his confidence likely renewed. And behind that restored hope is a sister who simply refused to give up.

In the end, this is more than a UTME story. It’s a reminder that voices matter, that systems must answer when questioned, and that sometimes, the truth wins—loudly, proudly, and with a 298 to prove it.