When the West African Examinations Council (WAEC) announced that from 2026 every school-based WAEC exam would go fully computer-based, the declaration landed like thunder. It wasn’t just a policy memo; it was a challenge to Nigeria’s fragile education system.
Imagine a rural secondary school where the only “computer” sits in the principal’s office, covered with dust, used mostly for typing letters. Now, WAEC says: “Get 250 functioning laptops, CCTV cameras, a powerful server, 24-hour electricity with a 40kVA generator, full air conditioning, and a holding room, or forget hosting WASSCE.”
For some elite schools in Lagos or Abuja, this is doable. For thousands of others, it’s a nightmare.
WAEC’s New Exam Rules: The Non-Negotiables
At a sensitisation meeting in Port Harcourt, WAEC made its demands clear. Schools must now provide:
* 250 laptops or desktops (with 10% backups).
* A central server capable of supporting 250 simultaneous users.
* CCTV cameras to monitor every corner of the exam hall.
* Stable power supply, with a minimum 40kVA generator for backup.
* Full air conditioning and proper lighting.
* A Local Area Network (LAN) to link all systems.
* Reception/holding areas for candidates.
Those who can’t meet these standards will have to bus their students to designated CBT centres.
The Dream: A Modern, Secure WAEC
On paper, this looks brilliant. Digital exams cut the cost of printing and transporting millions of papers, reduce leakage scandals, and deliver faster results. They could even bring Nigerian assessments closer to global standards.
WAEC insists this is not a bluff. The Council has tested CBT with private candidates and believes it is the only way forward.
The Reality: Power Cuts, Empty Labs, and Unequal Schools
But Nigeria’s reality doesn’t read like WAEC’s brochure. Rural schools barely keep chalkboards running, let alone computer labs with 250 functional laptops. Even urban schools face epileptic power supply, erratic internet, and staff with limited ICT training.
What happens when a student’s exam crashes mid-test because the generator sputtered? Who takes responsibility when a server freezes and wipes out answers?
And perhaps most importantly: does this digital leap risk widening the gap between the rich and poor?
Inequality in the Making
In Lagos, parents are already boasting about schools upgrading labs, installing CCTV, and striking deals with tech companies. In Kano or Ebonyi, some schools are just trying to keep classrooms from flooding when it rains.
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Without government subsidies or intervention, CBT may simply privilege the few schools that can afford the upgrades, while public schools, especially in rural areas, are sidelined.
This raises a bigger question: is WAEC modernizing education, or institutionalizing inequality?
The Funding Puzzle
At the Port Harcourt event, vendors like HP and Lenovo showcased their gadgets, while the Bank of Industry (BOI) hinted at possible loans for schools. But loans are not a silver bullet. Maintenance, training, and constant fuel or diesel costs will pile up.
A 40kVA generator isn’t a one-time investment, it’s an endless fuel bill.
The Future of Exams in Nigeria
If done right, WAEC’s digital gamble could revolutionize assessment in West Africa. But if rushed, it risks turning into another headline about “good policies killed by poor execution.”
For now, the countdown to 2026 has begun. The laptops will either arrive, or students will be left behind. And in a country where education is already a shaky ladder, this CBT revolution could be the rung that breaks, or the rung that finally lifts students higher.
