Let the children stay at home

In 2023, the Nigerian government committed ₦15 billion to make schools safer. Schools have never been less safe since.

There are not many places I enjoy being like the four walls of a classroom. Growing up, it was one of my great joys to wear a school uniform, snug my school bag tightly to my back, and walk to what I was certain was a day of play and new fun facts. I always carried a storybook for the road too and would read it as I walked, damning the blare of traffic and the blazing morning sun that threatened to blind me. It was my mother’s crippling concern and that of many of my neighbours that I would one day walk into a vehicle (or that, worse, a vehicle would run into me) as I read tales I had no business reading. No business reading on the road, I mean.

It is a bone-chilling thing to say that if I had, say, been born merely ten years ago and still walked to school, my mother’s worry would not be that I would get knocked over by a vehicle while reading my storybook. It is that I may be kidnapped, and never return.

Education in Nigeria is under attack

Between April 2014 and May 2026, 2416 students have been kidnapped across 26 schools in 13 of Nigeria’s 36 states, save for the Federal Capital Territory.¹ I daresay, however, that the actual number may be much higher, given that only attacks with a documented digital footprint or media reporting appear to have been recorded. This is, by every measure imaginable, a sickening trend and it started 12 years ago when 276 girls were kidnapped from the Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Borno state on the night of April 15, 2014. Since then, the average Nigerian student has had to live with the fear that they may one day pay for their education with their lives.

ICIR infographic about mass school kidnappings in Nigeria from April 2014 — May 2026

Recently, 39 students were abducted from three primary schools in Oriire Local Government Area (LGA) in Oyo state, marking what reporters call the first “large-scale school-targeted abduction in southwest Nigeria.”² As if by some twisted synchrony, a similar school attack was recorded on the same day in the northeastern part of the country. This time, over 50 children were kidnapped.³ As at the time this article is being written, these children have not returned home to their families.

Education in Nigeria is under attack, and the way we address it will determine if Nigeria is to have a future or not.

Nigeria’s public commitments to make schools safer

Following the abduction of the Chibok girls by Boko Haram in 2014, Nigeria moved to endorse the Safe Schools Declaration (SSD), an “inter-governmental political commitment to protect students, teachers, schools, and universities from the worst effects of armed conflict.”⁴ Led by Norway and Argentina in 2015, the SSD institutionalises explicit standards and norms protecting schools and universities from attack and military use during armed conflict. Nigeria was one of the early nations to endorse this declaration, and is even now considered a global leader in that regard.⁵ But of what use is a political commitment if it does not translate into tangible outcomes for the people it is made for?

In 2021, the Federal Ministry of Education released its National Policy on Safety, Security and Violence-Free Schools (NPSSVFS)⁶ to guide the implementation of the SSD nationwide. This policy was designed to, among others, communicate a “zero-tolerance approach to any threat to the security of life and property in [Nigerian] schools.”⁷ However, while one of the policy’s guiding philosophies is that education must continue during and after conflict or disaster, there seems to be more emphasis on after-conflict rehabilitation and scenarios where the learners are not the target of the violence. For example, one of the continuity strategies is the “transfer of vulnerable learners in violence-affected communities to safe areas and boarding schools in states not affected by violence.”⁸ This presupposes an education that continues after violence, and not during.

It is not my intention to summarise every section of the NPSSVFS policy. Instead, I intend to highlight the (lack of) options for education continuity during conflict.

Rather buy data than pay ransom

As a follow-up to the NPSSVFS, the Federal Ministry of Education in collaboration with the Education in Emergencies Working Group Nigeria (EiEWGN) developed the Minimum Standards for Safe Schools in 2021 to provide the “bare minimum qualities and practices” that schools must adhere to in order to be certified as safe environments.⁹

One of the strategies outlined for continuing education during armed conflict and situations of violence is to “carry out distance learning using technology.”¹⁰ It even says to “create temporary learning spaces with tents and other materials” to meet immediate needs.¹¹ However, this is where the directive stops.

Poster infographic of the Minimum Standards for Safe Schools as developed by the Federal Government of Nigeria in 2021.

Considering that more than 900,000 students have lost access to learning due to conflict since 2009¹², it is crucial that we explore ways education can continue even when it cannot take place within the four walls of a traditional classroom. To make this possible, we need to begin having conversations about expanding access to technology, developing effective distance-learning systems, training educators for crisis situations, and creating safe temporary learning spaces that allow students to continue their education in the midst of conflict.

Where would the money to do that come from?

The Federal Ministry of Finance, Budget and National Planning (FMFBNP) developed a National Plan on Financing Safe Schools for 2023–2026 in which it proposed ₦32.58 billion for 2023, ₦36.98 billion for 2024, ₦37.15 billion for 2025 and ₦38.03 billion for 2026.¹³ In 2023, the Nigerian Government announced that it would commit ₦15 billion to fund the implementation of the initiative and in 2025, reports from the National Coordinator on Safe Schools Initiative, Halima Illiya Ibrahim, show that about ₦40 billion of that fund has been contributed to the CBN-domiciled Trust Fund by the Federal Government, African Development Bank, Norwegian Government, UNICEF, USAID, and some others.¹⁴

So, there is money.

However, there are two major concerns that immediately stand out to me, in respect to this article and simple human decency. First, there are virtually no contingency plans to ensure the continuity of education during conflict, much less support with the distance-learning provisions required by the Minimum Standards. For a country where school children are being kidnapped by the day, it is difficult to understand how educational continuity during conflict can be treated as an afterthought.

Secondly, serious questions have been raised about the use of Safe Schools funding. Over ₦11 billion has reportedly been allocated to security agencies, including the Nigerian Police Force, the Civil Defense Corps, the Defense Headquarters, and the Department of State Services. This has led senators to question the rationale behind directing Safe Schools funds to agencies that already receive separate security allocations.¹⁵ Their concern is made more pressing by reports that, aside from these allocations, little funding appears to be reaching the projects themselves. Instead, half of the budget is being spent on consultancy and operational expenses, while the other half goes towards project implementation.¹⁶

Phew. Where do we even start from?

Close the schools in the meantime

As a Nigerian, I know neither mitigation nor preparedness are our strong suits. Still, there is absolutely no sense in demanding that our children sit in classrooms learning ABCs while their peers burn mere miles away.

While closing schools is not an ideal solution, continuing to send children into environments where they fear for their lives is not a solution either.

“[After the attack], I went home. I was too afraid and decided not to go back. I told my parents I would never go back to school. Before [the attack], I was so passionate to study and achieve my dream [of being a lawyer]. But now, this experience completely demoralized me…. I told my father that I will never go back because of Boko Haram threats and what I saw that night. I cannot go back to face the same thing again,” said16-year-old Hauwa who survived one of Boko Haram’s many school attacks in Borno.¹⁷

“I prefer to continue with my Islamic school at home where it is safe and close to my family. I don’t think Dapchi School is safe to go to again,” another survivor, 15-year-old Habiba, said.¹⁸

Like Hauwa and Habiba, there is a deservedly increasing reluctance among students and their parents/wards to keep going to school physically. At least, not until there have been symbolic and substantial outcomes that prove that, indeed, the conflict has been subdued and its perpetrators have been brought to book. Until then, the government must realize that the choice for many children is between their safety and their education.

The traditional classroom can therefore no longer be the only pathway to learning.

We must develop home-based learning opportunities that take into account the realities of urban and rural connectivity, as well as teachers’ varying levels of technological capacity, so that children can continue to access education even when they are physically unable to attend classes.

If we are serious about protecting both children’s safety and their right to an education, then we must be willing to rethink where and how learning takes place during times of conflict.

References

[1] Nurudeen Akewushola. (2026, May 28). How Oyo’s first major school abduction shattered families, emptied villages | The ICIR- Latest News, Politics, Governance, Elections, Investigation, Factcheck, Covid-19. The ICIR- Latest News, Politics, Governance, Elections, Investigation, Factcheck, Covid-19. https://www.icirnigeria.org/how-oyos-first-major-school-abduction-shattered-families-emptied-villages/

[2] Ibid 1

[3] Kingimi, A., & Kolawole, A. (2026, May 15). Suspected militants abduct students in Nigeria’s Borno state, residents say. Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/world/africa/suspected-militants-abduct-students-nigerias-borno-state-residents-say-2026-05-15/

[4] Official website of the Safe School Declaration: https://ssd.protectingeducation.org/

[5] Global Coalition to Protect Education from Attack (2025). Nigeria: A Case Study on Implementing the Safe Schools DeclarationI, https://protectingeducation.org/wp-content/uploads/SSD-Nigeria-Case-Study.pdf

[6] Federal Ministry of Education (2021). National Policy on Safety, Security and Violence-Free Schools with its Implementing Guidelines. https://education.gov.ng/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/National-Policy-on-SSVFSN.pdf

[7] Ibid 6

[8] Ibid 6

[9] Federal Ministry of Education (2021). Minimum Standards for Safe Schools. https://reliefweb.int/attachments/f59f0702-c32b-3d79-a73b-31bb1d55d0c8/minimum_standards.pdf

[10] Ibid 9

[11] Ibid 9

[12] Federal Ministry of Finance, Budget and National Planning (2022).National Plan on Financing Safe Schools (2023–2026), https://protectingeducation.org/wp-content/uploads/Nigieria_National-Plan-on-Financing-Safe-Schools_SPREAD.pdf

[13] Federal Ministry of Information and National Orientation (2023). https://x.com/FMINONigeria/status/1689237126800384000

[14] Nwafor. (2025, December 10). Senate probes utilisation of ₦15bn Safe Schools Fund, queries police’s ₦6.2bn allocation. Vanguard News. https://www.vanguardngr.com/2025/12/senate-probes-utilisation-of-%E2%82%A615bn-safe-schools-fund-queries-polices-%E2%82%A66-2bn-allocation/

[15] Ibid 13

[16] Ibid 13

[17] GCPEA (2018). “I Will Never Go Back to School” The Impact of Attacks on Education for Nigerian Women and Girls. https://protectedu.wpengine.com/wp-content/uploads/documents/documents_attacks_on_nigerian_women_and_girls.pdf

[18] Ibid 17