Ovey Friday, a 19-year-old Nigerian student, lost his left hand at age 13 after being tortured by a herbalist who accused him of witchcraft. Despite the trauma, he became the first in his family to gain university admission. But when it came time to sit the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) exam, the biometric fingerprint system nearly denied him entry because his scarred hands could not be scanned. His story highlights the daily struggles faced by thousands of disabled learners across Nigeria.
Ovey Friday was just 13 years old when his life changed forever. Accused of witchcraft by his stepmother, he was taken to a traditional shrine in Nasarawa state, Nigeria, where a herbalist subjected him to brutal torture. His hands and legs were covered with a mixture of charcoal and pepper, then he was tied up and left under a heavy bedsheet.
A concerned neighbour alerted the police, leading to his rescue and hospitalisation. Doctors were forced to amputate his left hand, while his right hand suffered severe scarring. The physical pain was immense, but the emotional trauma ran even deeper.
A Dream Nearly Destroyed
Despite the horror he endured, Ovey refused to give up on his education. He became the first person in his family to gain admission to university, studying English and literary studies at a university in Nasarawa state. His determination earned him admiration from those around him.
But when it came time to sit the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) university entrance examination, Ovey faced a new obstacle. The biometric fingerprint system used for verification could not read his scarred hands. For a moment, it seemed his dream of higher education would be shattered once again.
A Small Victory Through Advocacy
With the help of a guardian and disability rights campaigners, officials eventually accepted his toe print as an alternative form of verification. Ovey was able to sit the exam. He later reflected on the experience, saying, “Not everyone has someone to push for them. Some people will just stop trying.”
His case highlights a much larger problem: Nigeria’s education system is still not fully equipped to support learners with disabilities, even as the country has one of the highest numbers of people living with disabilities on the continent.
Nigeria’s Disability Crisis
According to Ayuba Burki-Gufwan, executive secretary of the National Commission for Persons with Disabilities (NCPWD), over 35 million Nigerians — roughly 15% of the population — live with some form of disability. In 2019, Nigeria passed landmark legislation prohibiting discrimination and guaranteeing access to public services, including education.
However, progress has been slow. Many schools lack ramps, adapted toilets, braille materials, sign-language interpreters, and trained teachers. Assistive devices are often expensive and must be imported, putting them out of reach for most families.
A Call for True Inclusion
Special educator Chukwuemeka Chimdiebere says inclusion is not a favour — it is a responsibility. He calls for better teacher training, accessible digital platforms, and simple adjustments like written summaries and captions in classrooms.
Ovey Friday’s story is one of resilience, but also of systemic failure. While he managed to overcome the biometric hurdle, many other disabled learners in Nigeria do not have the same support and simply drop out.
The Way Forward
Advocates are calling for 1% of national and state budgets to be reserved for disability issues, better enforcement of the 2019 Disability Act, and local manufacturing of assistive devices to make them more affordable.
Ovey himself continues to adapt. He has learned to live independently, write with his remaining hand, and maintain friendships. His journey shows that people with disabilities are not limited by their impairment — they are limited by systems that were never designed with them in mind.
