Every year in Nigeria, thousands of hopeful students apply to universities with clear visions of the careers they want. But for many, those dreams are abruptly redirected when admission letters arrive, offering them courses they never chose.
Limited spaces in popular programmes, rigid quota systems, and the near impossibility of switching courses mean students often have no choice but to accept what they are given.
The result is a generation of young people forced to adjust their ambitions overnight, sometimes carrying the consequences for the rest of their lives.
By the time Mercy Orji received her admission letter, she had already pictured herself in a white lab coat, saving lives in an operating theatre. But instead of Medicine, the university offered her Botany.
“I cried that day. All through secondary school, I was top in Biology and Chemistry. I thought my path was set. But because admission into Medicine is like winning the lottery here, they just threw me into another department. I didn’t even know what a botanist really did,” she told LEADERSHIP in an interview.
Her story is not unique. Across Nigeria, thousands of students apply to study one course, only to be admitted into something entirely different, a phenomenon that forces them to adjust their life plans overnight. And because securing admission is so difficult, most simply accept what they are given.
Peter Omoha had his heart set on Law but was offered Philosophy instead. “When I saw ‘Philosophy’ on my admission letter, I thought it was a mistake. But my parents had already paid acceptance fees before I could even complain. They told me, ‘Just enter school, we’ll figure it out later.’ I’ve been figuring it out for three years now.”
For him, the hardest part is explaining to people why he didn’t pursue his dream. “Everyone keeps asking me, ‘Why not switch?’ But switching here is almost impossible unless you have connections or money. So I just read Plato and Aristotle, even though my heart is still in the courtroom.”
For Winifred Onema, the shock came when she was offered Agricultural Extension instead of Mass Communication. “My dream was to be on TV, reading the news or hosting shows,” she said. “Instead, I’m learning how to talk to farmers about fertilizer.
“It’s like someone tore my life script and handed me a new one.” She admits she thought about dropping out. But with her father’s small business barely surviving, she couldn’t risk wasting the admission. “In Nigeria, once you miss admission, it could be years before you get another chance. So I stayed. But every day, I feel like I’m living someone else’s dream.”
Sharon Itodo knows the frustration too well. She wanted to study Computer Science but got offered Zoology. “At first, I rejected it,” she said. “But after a year of staying at home and my dad paying for me to rewrite JAMB twice, I just took it. We had already spent so much money chasing the course I wanted.” Now in her final year, she has mixed feelings. “I still love tech, and I’m learning coding online. But if I had studied Computer Science from the start, maybe I’d be building apps by now. Instead, I’m learning about animal habitats.”
Not everyone regrets the switch. Chioma Eze applied for Architecture but was given Fine Arts. “At first, I was angry. But over time, I discovered I actually loved painting and sculpture,” she said. “If I had gone for Architecture, maybe I would never have found my real passion.” Still, she admits the system is flawed. “We shouldn’t have to depend on luck to find where we belong. People should be able to study what they want, not what the system throws at them.”
For Mr. Clement Uzo, the detour didn’t end with graduation. He applied to study Accounting but was offered Sociology. “I told myself it was just four years, then I’d still find my way into finance,” he said. “But after NYSC, all the job offers I got were in customer service or sales, because nobody wanted to hire a Sociology graduate for accounting work.”
Today, he works as a sales representative for a telecom company. “It pays the bills, but every time I see people in suits handling big financial portfolios, I feel a sting,” he confessed. “The truth is, the course you’re given in university can shape your whole life, whether you like it or not.”
Many education experts argue that Nigeria’s admission crisis is partly caused by limited slots in popular courses, outdated university structures, and policies that prioritize filling quotas over student preferences. For students, it’s a matter of survival—take what you’re given, or risk being left behind.
For Mercy, Peter, Winifred, Sharon, Chioma, and Mr. Clement, their journeys are proof that the path to a dream career in Nigeria is rarely straightforward. Some adapt, some resist, and others find new passions. But one truth remains: the system that decides their futures often does so without asking what they really want.
