In a heartfelt and emotionally charged Facebook post that has since gone viral, 22-year-old Idowu Olufemi Ayodeji has captured the attention and sympathy of thousands across the country, chronicling a five-year journey marked by hope, heartbreak, and relentless resilience in his pursuit of a Law degree.
Ayodeji, who began his academic journey in 2020 with a JAMB score of 239, shared how a serious accident the following year disrupted his dream of studying Law at the University of Ibadan. Despite this setback, he remained undeterred.
“I didn’t give up,” he wrote. And true to his words, Ayodeji went on to sit for the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) exam multiple times in subsequent years, scoring 279 in 2022, 277 in 2023, and 281 in 2024. Yet, each year, his dream was dashed by shifting cut-off marks and crushing near-misses.
In 2024, when his aggregate score of 72.125 narrowly missed Obafemi Awolowo University’s Law cut-off mark of 73.95, Ayodeji described the moment as the breaking point.
“I told myself: maybe I was never meant to be a lawyer. Maybe I’m just not lucky. Maybe some people were born to lose,” he wrote, revealing how he eventually accepted a transfer to study Literature instead—a field with a much lower cut-off of 50 points.
The raw emotion in Ayodeji’s story has resonated widely, not just because of the repeated academic setbacks, but because of his unwavering desire to study Law despite the odds.
Now 22 and without a degree, Ayodeji says he often finds himself comparing his journey to those of his peers, many of whom are already being called to the bar. “Sometimes I look at my life and I just cry… It feels like the more I try, the more life says ‘NO.’”
Yet in 2025, he wrote the JAMB once again—and this time, scored an impressive 294.
But even with this score, Ayodeji admits he’s afraid. “What if I still don’t get Law? What if it happens again? What if it’s all just another heartbreak waiting to come?”
Despite his fears, one truth remains clear: Ayodeji is not giving up. “Even with all the pain, I still want it. It’s the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted.”
His post closes not with triumph, but with quiet persistence. “This post isn’t from someone who made it. It’s from someone who’s still fighting to breathe… I don’t know what the end will look like. But I’m still here. And maybe, just maybe… that counts for something.”
As many Nigerians continue to grapple with a challenging educational system and limited university slots, Ayodeji’s story has struck a chord—an emblem of the resilience and determination of many young people across the nation still holding on to their dreams.