One Girl, One Hijab, One Lawsuit: What Hameedat’s Bold Stand Against JAMB Tells Us

Lawal Hameedat Adenike, a teenage UTME candidate, has taken a bold and unprecedented legal step against the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) and PEFTI Film Institute, claiming she was compelled to remove her hijab at a JAMB examination centre in Lagos. Represented by her mother and legal counsel, Hameedat is demanding accountability, stating that her right to religious freedom was violated during the 2025 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination.

The lawsuit has since stirred widespread public attention, and for good reason. While JAMB has issued an apology, explaining that the act was the error of an overzealous security official and not a directive from the board, the emotional and cultural damage has already been done.

What makes this case especially important is that it’s not an isolated incident. Similar allegations have surfaced, including from students at Caleb University, where female Muslim candidates reportedly faced the same issue.

Though JAMB insists it has no policy that mandates the removal of religious coverings, repeated occurrences have raised concerns among human rights advocates, religious groups, and members of the public. Organizations such as the Muslim Rights Concern (MURIC) and the Muslim Students’ Society of Nigeria (MSSN) have publicly condemned the practice, urging the government and JAMB to do more than apologize — they are demanding structural reforms and clear enforcement of students’ rights at examination centres.

Beyond the legal dimensions of the case lies a much deeper and more emotional question: what does it say about us as a country when a young girl is forced to choose between her faith and her education? For many Muslims, the hijab is not merely fabric — it is an identity, a commitment, a statement of belief. To be told to remove it in a public setting, especially under the pressure of a high-stakes exam, is not just a violation of rights, but an act of humiliation. The security justification often given falls flat when there are already existing methods — including female invigilators and private checks — that could preserve both safety and dignity.

Hameedat’s courage cannot be overstated. In a society where most people would quietly accept their mistreatment and move on, she stood her ground and said no. She took on not just a powerful institution but also a national culture that often tells young people, especially girls, to stay quiet and comply. She reminds us that boldness has no age, and that silence is not always golden. Her decision to take this issue to court sends a powerful message to institutions that Nigerians — even young ones — will not hesitate to defend their rights. It is a reminder that education should never come at the cost of identity, and that respecting the rights of students, regardless of their faith or background, is non-negotiable.

While we await the court’s judgment, one thing is already certain: Hameedat stand has ignited a national conversation about religious freedom, student welfare, and institutional accountability. This is no longer just about a single exam centre or one girl’s experience. It is about setting the tone for how Nigeria treats its future leaders — with dignity, fairness, and above all, respect for their humanity.