I am not a prophet of doom. Neither am I the proverbial fetish priest who has made it a personal deal to forecast a fire outbreak in the village every passing minute. But then, if we don’t act proactively and swiftly, this year’s B.E.C.E won’t fail to see another massive leakage and subsequent cancellation of some papers. We are an obstinate people who appear to take pride in repeating silly mistakes.
Though the examinations are yet to start, signs of possible leakages and malpractices are written legibly in the air. On WhatsApp and on many other social media platforms, friends are texting friends for ‘likely’ examination questions. I personally have quite a handsome number of such texts resting peacefully in my inbox. I hope to find replies to them when the examinations are over.
Surprisingly, some teachers who are supposed to know better are part of this insanity. Unscrupulous parents have also assured their wards of getting them the questions even if they were hidden in the lion’s jaws.
I want to know. What efforts have been made to check and bring to book, stomach-directional WAEC officials who find it so lucrative a venture to leak questions to mischievous parents, students and heads of schools? A quick investigation into the source of last year’s leakage will reveal that most of the questions came through the roofs of the ‘strong rooms’ at the various examination centres. It is in these rooms where all the underhand dealings reside. Security personnel who are posted to these centres to protect the papers and to ensure order are, as usual, an integral part of this nation-wrecking business.
Then, there are the hungry invigilators who will be ready to serve as “errand boys” for schools and the candidates. These invigilators go beyond their core responsibility of staying in the examination room and monitoring proceedings to running errands for the candidates by serving them with solved questions from their teachers. At times, they practically assist the candidates to work the questions out. This, they do, for a miserable token of twenty Ghana Cedis or less.
A stitch in time saves nine. It’s about time we stopped humming the fool’s anthem: ‘HAD I KNOWN’.