Addis Abeba — In September 2025, I wrote an article titled "Who bears blame for consecutive low national exam pass rates in Ethiopia?", which was published by Addis Standard following the Ministry of Education's announcement of the Grade 12 national examination results. At the time, only 8.4% of students--48,929 out of 585,882--had achieved the minimum passing score of 50%, qualifying them for university enrolment. In that piece, I argued that the results painted a consistent picture of a profound systemic fracture that extended far beyond the classroom. I asked a question that still haunts us: who bears the blame?
A few weeks ago, Education Minister Professor Berhanu Nega once again stood before the press to announce what he called an "incredibly improved" performance. The 2026 pass rate had risen to 12.8%. The number of "zero-pass" schools had halved. The pass rate for computer-based test-takers reached 18.3%. The Ministry's message was clear: reform is working, and the nation should celebrate.
Discover moreGeographic ReferenceNews subscription serviceMaritime shipping news But the question I posed last year remains unanswered. Who bears the blame? And more urgently, what becomes of the hundreds of thousands of students who continue to be failed by this system?
The 87% reality: A recovery, yes-but for whom?
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The national pass rate rose from 8.4% to 12.8%, meaning roughly 21,600 more students reached the threshold than last year. The number of schools with no passing students fell from 1,232 last year to 565 this year. Schools achieving a 100% pass rate increased from 62 to 88. These are genuine achievements, and they deserve acknowledgement.
Addis Ababa tourism However, we must not allow the framing of "pass rate rises to 12.8%" to obscure a more fundamental truth: 12.8% also means that 87.2% of students who sat for the examination did not reach the passing mark. In absolute terms, approximately 479,666 out of 550,210 students failed to qualify for direct university admission.
The glass is not 12.8% full; it is 87.2% empty."
Nearly nine out of every ten students who invested years of their lives in Ethiopia's secondary education system walked out of the examination hall without meeting the national benchmark. This is not a success story for the vast majority of Ethiopian students. A rise from 8.4% to 12.8% - while statistically significant - still means that the system is failing the overwhelming majority. For nearly 480,000 young people, the dream of becoming a university student - a path to social mobility for many - has been abruptly cut short.
Discover moreAmnesty International reportspoliticsNews analysis reportsEthiopian election 2026Ethiopian political analysisLocal NewsHistoryNewsPricespolitical The Ministry's narrative of improvement rests on a statistical sleight of hand. When 87% of examinees fail, the headline should not be "pass rate rises to 12.8%" but rather "87% of students fail to qualify for university - again." The glass is not 12.8% full; it is 87.2% empty.
Vanishing Examinee: Crisis of access
Perhaps the most troubling statistic in the 2026 results is one the Ministry barely mentioned: the total number of examinees has dropped by nearly 300,000 over five years - from over 890,000 in 2021/22 to 550,210 in 2025/26. This is not a minor fluctuation; it is a dramatic contraction in educational participation that demands explanation.
The Ministry has offered no clear answer for this decline. Is it demographic? Are fewer students completing secondary school? Or are millions of students simply not showing up for the exam because they have lost hope in a system that seems designed for their failure?
The answer likely lies in a combination of factors. First, the impact of conflict, which has forced more than nine million Ethiopian children out of school, cannot be overstated. According to the Global Coalition to Protect Education from Attack (GCPEA), Ethiopia was among the countries recording the highest number of attacks on education over the past two years. The report noted that more than nine million children were out of school as of early 2025, with the highest numbers recorded in Amhara, Oromia, and Tigray regions. More than 9,000 schools had been closed or destroyed in conflict-affected areas. This is not a minor disruption; it is a systematic destruction of the country's educational infrastructure.
Ethiopian politics analysis Second, the drop in examinees reflects a deeper crisis of access. For many students in rural areas, simply reaching the exam centre is a challenge. Schools lack basic resources, teachers are in short supply, and the journey to the exam itself - often far from home - adds another layer of difficulty. When students see that their peers in urban centres are more than eight times more likely to pass, the motivation to complete secondary education and sit for the exam inevitably declines.
Third, the decline in examinees raises questions about the quality of data the Ministry is using to measure educational progress. If the pass rate improves simply because fewer students - and disproportionately advantaged students - are taking the exam, then the improvement is an illusion. The Ministry cannot claim victory for the education system while millions of students are dropping out before they even reach the exam hall.
Access, inequality, and the digital divide
The 2026 results reveal a system where access to quality education is determined by geography. As the data shows, Addis Abeba recorded a pass rate of 32.3%. Harari followed at 22.67%. Meanwhile, Gambella languished at 3.74%, Southwest Ethiopia at 4.92%, and Southern Ethiopia at 5.82%. A student born in Addis Abeba is more than eight times more likely to pass than a student in Gambella. These disparities are not a reflection of student ability; they are a reflection of unequal access to qualified teachers, textbooks, laboratories, and other essential resources.
Demographics This urban-rural divide creates what can only be described as a "tale of two Ethiopias," where one segment of the population has access to quality education and a pathway to a better future, while the other is trapped in a system seemingly designed for failure. The most successful education reforms will ultimately be measured not only by the performance of the country's best schools but also by whether students in remote and under-resourced schools are also able to achieve meaningful improvements. On this measure, the 2026 results offer little cause for celebration.
The gap between academic streams is equally telling. Natural science students recorded a pass rate of 16.58%, while social science students achieved only 8.33% - a difference of nearly two to one. This disparity raises profound questions about differences in student preparation, school resources, teaching quality, and examination patterns. The system is systematically failing social science students, and the Ministry's failure to address this gap suggests a troubling indifference to the fate of nearly half the student population.
Perhaps the most intriguing finding is the performance gap between computer-based and paper-based test-takers. Approximately 18.3% of students who took the computer-based examination passed, compared with only 4.2% among those who took the paper examination. Professor Berhanu presented this as evidence of digital testing's effectiveness. But we must ask the harder question: Are computers improving performance, or are they simply a proxy for privilege?
Addis Ababa tourism Students taking the online examination are more likely to come from well-resourced schools in urban areas with reliable electricity, internet connectivity, and the infrastructure required for digital literacy. The computer is not the cause of their success - it is a symptom of their advantage. The Ministry's plan to transition to a fully online examination system risks entrenching these inequalities further. Students in Gambella, Somali, and other remote regions may find themselves locked out not by their academic ability, but by their lack of access to technology.
Zero-Pass Schools: Progress, but not victory
The reduction in schools with no successful students - from 1,232 last year to 565 this year - is one of the clearest indicators supporting the Ministry's claim that performance has improved. This represents a halving of zero-pass schools, and it means that 667 more schools saw at least one student pass. That is genuine progress.
But let us pause and consider what '565 zero-pass schools' truly means. In 565 secondary schools across Ethiopia, not a single student - not even the top-ranked student, not even the school's valedictorian - scored 50% or higher on the national examination. In each of these schools, the student who stood first in their class, the student who worked the hardest, the student who represented the best that school could produce, still failed to reach the university admission threshold.
This is not a story of individual student failure. When the best student in a school cannot pass, the problem is not the student - it is the school. It is the system. It is a direct and damning indictment of the quality of education being delivered in these institutions. It means that an entire graduating cohort - a hundred of thousands of young people across the country - has been failed by the very system that was supposed to prepare them.
Last year, I asked: how does one explain the abysmal performance of a staggering 1,232 schools that failed to have a single student pass? This year, the number is lower, but the question remains. The fact that over 500 schools could not produce a single passing student - not even their best - is not a problem of individual cheating or student laziness. It is a systemic failure of the highest order.
When the best student in a school cannot pass, the problem is not the student - it is the system."
A school's failure to produce a single passing student is a direct and damning indictment of the ministry's own failure. When textbooks fail to arrive on time, when teacher salaries are meagre, when classrooms are overcrowded, when laboratories lack equipment, and when the curriculum is not fit for purpose, the responsibility lies at the top. The failure of the schools is, by definition, the failure of the ministry that governs them.
When schools become targets
The GCPEA report places Ethiopia among the countries with the highest attacks on education globally, alongside Colombia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Haiti, Palestine and Ukraine. This is not a distinction any nation should want.
Ethiopian politics analysis The damage to educational infrastructure is staggering. In Tigray alone, the Commission of Inquiry on Tigray Genocide estimated that the conflict caused approximately USD 4.36 billion in losses to the education sector. According to the Tigray Education Bureau, 88% of classrooms, 96% of desks, 97% of blackboards, 85% of computers, and 87% of instructional plasma televisions were damaged or destroyed. More than 2,146 members of the school community were killed, including 1,911 students. Nearly 1.2 million school-age children in Tigray remained out of school in 2025.
In the Amhara region, a United Nations report estimated that about 4.4 million children were affected, with over 1,500 schools destroyed and nearly half of the region's schools remaining closed. In the Oromia region, years of conflict have forced widespread school closures, displaced teachers and students, and left millions of children without access to formal education. The military use of schools is particularly alarming - approximately 1,200 schools were reportedly used for military purposes during 2024 and 2025, a figure that rose to 1,527 by March 2025. When schools become military camps, they cease to be places of learning. They become targets.
Remedial Program: A shrinking safety net
The Ministry's announcement that it will reduce the intake capacity for the remedial programme is particularly concerning. With direct university admissions rising to 70,544 students, authorities believe there is less need for the preparatory track. But what of the 479,666 students who failed? Where do they go?
Demographics Professor Berhanu indicated that remedial admission should not be understood as an automatic pathway for every student who fails the national examination. But the remedial programme has served as a critical bridge for students who failed by the system. Reducing its capacity now - when the system is still failing the overwhelming majority - is premature and shortsighted. It risks condemning hundreds of thousands of young people to economic stagnation, hopelessness, and the very migration patterns that the government claims to want to address.
The 87% Left Behind: Fate of students who fail
This brings us to the most urgent question: what becomes of the 479,666 students who failed to qualify? The answer, sadly, is already visible. As I noted last year, the low pass rate and higher fail rate are a national crisis that will lead to hopelessness, crime, and migration if not addressed with urgency. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), outward movements along the Eastern Route from Ethiopia to Yemen increased by 34% between January and June 2024-2025, with more than 238,000 migrants recorded. An overwhelming 98% cited economic reasons for leaving.
Students are dropping out before even taking the exam to pursue the dangerous journey to Arab countries. Young men are joining armed groups. Young women are becoming domestic workers in urban centres. A generation is being lost - not to academic failure, but to a system and a country that have failed them.
What would motivate students to study hard when their role models fail to pass the national exam? When they see that hundreds of schools across the country pass zero students, the question for every young person becomes, "Why should I study?" What is the purpose of dedicating years to a system that, statistically, seems designed for failure? This psychological blow, this crisis of motivation, is perhaps the most tragic consequence of the Ministry's failure. It erodes the very foundation of education--the belief that hard work and dedication will lead to a better future.
Bigger Question: Is Ethiopia's education actually improving?
The answer appears to be yes - but with major qualifications. A rise from 8.4% to 12.8% is significant. It means thousands more young people reached the required benchmark. The reduction in zero-pass schools and the increase in 100% pass rate schools suggest that the improvement was not simply concentrated among a handful of top-performing students.
The time for celebration has not yet come. But the time for accountability is now."
But a 12.8% pass rate also means that 87.2% of students - nearly 480,000 young people - still failed to qualify. The system is still producing a very large number of students who leave Grade 12 without meeting the national university-admission threshold. Furthermore, the decline of nearly 300,000 examinees over five years raises fundamental questions about the Ministry's measurement of educational progress. If the pass rate improves simply because fewer students - and disproportionately advantaged students - are taking the exam, then the improvement is an illusion.
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Who bears the blame?
Last year, I argued that the Ministry of Education cannot escape responsibility for the crisis. The curriculum, teacher training standards, and resource allocation are all dictated by the ministry. The ministry sets the national exams, determines the passing marks, and oversees the very system that has failed these schools. A school's failure to produce a single passing student is not an isolated incident of incompetence; it is a direct and damning indictment of the ministry's own failure.
The 2026 results do not change this fundamental truth. While the pass rate has improved, the system continues to fail the overwhelming majority of students. The persistent inequalities between regions, the urban-rural divide, the gap between Natural Science and Social Science students, and the digital divide all point to a system that is structurally unequal. The blame cannot be placed solely on students for their inability to pass; it must be directed at a system that has failed to adequately prepare them.
Call for radical action
The current trajectory is unsustainable. The government must acknowledge that the problem is not with the students but with a system that has failed them. For Ethiopia to turn this adversity into an opportunity, a radical shift in mindset is required. This must include a critical review of the current Ministry of Education policy, particularly the national exam. The policy should be redesigned to take into consideration the overall economic situation, resource availability, student readiness, teacher capacity and motivation, and school readiness.
Ethiopian politics analysis Second, it is essential to address the rural-urban disparities as a foundational element of any reform. Investing in teacher quality through better pay and professional development is vital. Prioritising the reopening and rehabilitation of schools in conflict-affected regions is urgent. Finally, student evaluation should be reframed to go beyond relying solely on standardised exams and instead take into consideration the diverse range of factors that impact learning outcomes.
Conclusion: The question remains
One year ago, I asked, 'Who bears blame for consecutive low national exam pass rates in Ethiopia? The 2026 results do not provide a satisfactory answer. The Ministry points to improvement; the data points to persistent failure. The blame lies with a system that has prioritised quantity over quality, that has failed to invest in rural education, that has allowed schools to become military camps, and that has left millions of children without access to education. The blame lies with a Ministry that celebrates a 12.8% pass rate while 87% of students fail.
The question I asked last year remains unanswered. Until it is answered with concrete action - until every child in every region has access to quality education, until teachers are properly trained and compensated, until schools are places of learning rather than battlegrounds - the question will continue to haunt us. The time for celebration has not yet come. But the time for accountability is now. AS
Editor's Note: Mohammedawel Hagos is a doctoral candidate at Mekelle University and serves as a lecturer at Worabe University. He can be reached at awelhagos@gmail.com
