At 20, Miriam Omede has etched her name into the academic history of Prince Abubakar Audu University (PAAU), Ayingba. She emerged as the institution’s first First-Class Law graduate in 25 years, finishing with an outstanding CGPA of 4.59—a feat that sets her apart in a faculty known for its academic rigour.
Yet, following her convocation earlier this month, the university is yet to formally acknowledge the historic feat. While prizes and recognitions were announced during the ceremony, no official award has so far been presented to Omede for her record-breaking academic performance.
For Omede, however, the journey was never about accolades.
Her choice of law was driven by conviction rather than convenience. Drawn to the discipline by its power to challenge injustice, she sees the law as a tool for protecting the vulnerable—particularly women and girls in Nigeria.
“Law offers a platform to protect people who cannot always protect themselves and to insist on fairness,” she says.
That sense of purpose carried her through a demanding academic journey. Studying law, she recalls, was an exercise in endurance: long hours, heavy reading loads, relentless assessments, and constant pressure to perform.
“There were days that were encouraging and others that truly tested my resolve,” she reflects. “Managing time was difficult, especially with the volume of materials we had to cover. But I leaned on the support of friends and my faith in God.”
By her third year, Omede had set a clear target: graduating with a First-Class degree. From then on, her academic life became more deliberate—structured reading plans, disciplined revision, and an unwavering belief that the goal was attainable.
“There were days that felt overwhelming,” she says. “But I always believed it was possible. I knew I could graduate at the top if I stayed consistent.”
That consistency paid off.
Still, Omede is clear-eyed about the realities beyond the classroom. In Nigeria, she notes, academic brilliance does not always translate into professional success.
“Being academically sound is important, but it is not enough,” she explains. “You also need experience, soft skills, critical thinking, and practical wisdom. Results may open doors, but it is what you can do that keeps them open.”
Her interests already extend beyond conventional legal practice. Omede is particularly drawn to human rights, digital rights, and the intersection of technology and law. During an internship with an organisation working to protect women from technology-facilitated gender-based violence, she gained hands-on experience handling digital rights cases—an exposure that shaped her growing interest in data privacy and artificial intelligence governance.
“Human rights are central to my work,” she says. “My experience in digital rights showed me how urgently women need protection online and how carefully technology must be governed.”
Beyond academics and professional aspirations, Omede values the relationships she built during her years at the university. To her, these connections were as transformative as her academic success.
“The relationships matter deeply,” she says. “Strategic friendships can influence your academic, spiritual, and even financial life. They speak for you in rooms you may not yet have access to.”
Miriam Omede’s story is both a personal triumph and a broader reflection of Nigeria’s higher-education landscape—where excellence often flourishes despite limited resources, and where recognition does not always keep pace with achievement.
Her journey underscores a simple but powerful truth: breaking barriers requires more than brilliance. It demands resilience, clarity of purpose, discipline, and the courage to persist—even when applause is slow to come.
In a country where opportunity frequently lags behind talent, Miriam Omede stands as a quiet but compelling reminder of what is possible when determination meets purpose.
