DAILY NUGGETS
With LILYAN YEPWINigeria today faces an education emergency—one unfolding quietly but devastatingly across states. In recent days, both the Federal Ministry of Education and states’ Universal Basic Education Board (UBEB) have ordered the immediate closure of some schools due to rising security threats. From basic schools to the forty-seven federal unity colleges nationwide, the educational system has been pushed into a state of paralysis.
While these decisions may be understandable in the face of worsening insecurity, they provoke deeper questions: How long will school closures remain our default response to crisis? What becomes of the millions of children whose dreams depend on uninterrupted learning? And what future awaits a nation whose educational foundation is shaken repeatedly by fear?
Purpose of education, cost of losing it
Before addressing the wave of school closures, it is necessary to confront a simple truth: education is not just a system. It is a purpose. It prepares minds that think, reason, innovate, build, govern and advance society. It is how a nation defines its identity and determines its future. When a state fails to protect its learners, it is not merely interrupting classrooms. It is interrupting purpose. A country that cannot give purpose to its young inevitably loses its direction. Purpose is the compass of progress, and education is the engine of that purpose. When both are threatened, the nation stands still.
This paralysis reflects itself starkly in the widening inequality now visible across the country. UBEB’s directive has left government schools shut, even as private schools in the same communities remain open, making education look increasingly like a privilege reserved for those who can afford security. The closure of forty-seven unity schools further exposes the depth of the crisis.
These institutions, once established to promote unity, diversity and equal opportunity, now stand empty—not for lack of teachers or teaching, but because the system cannot guarantee safety. If education is the backbone of a nation, then Nigeria’s spine is weakening, for no country can protect its future while failing to protect its classrooms.
The consequences for children in public schools are severe. Academic decline deepens as private school pupils continue learning while their public school counterparts stay home, widening an already troubling gap. A child kept out of school for weeks or months is not merely losing time but losing cognitive development, confidence and opportunity. The psychological toll is equally damaging, as children raised in an atmosphere of fear begin to internalise insecurity as normal, undermining their emotional wellbeing.
Prolonged closure pushes more children into the streets, early marriages, drug abuse and child labour, with many likely never to return. The nation itself pays the price, for a country that pauses education is a country delaying its own progress; tomorrow’s engineers, health workers, innovators and leaders are being stunted today. Shutting down schools protects bodies, yet it endangers futures—and a future without purpose is a future without direction.
Therefore, school closure is not, and cannot be, a solution. It is a temporary response that pauses danger without eliminating it, like treating a deep wound with a bandage. The threats are real, but the answer cannot be to stop educating; the answer must be to secure education.
Securing the future through action
This moment demands a complete rethinking of how Nigeria protects its education system. A national framework must emerge that provides safety without sacrificing learning. Specialised security units dedicated to schools, operating much like airport security teams, should be established to take responsibility for surveillance, rapid response, intelligence gathering and perimeter protection.
Communities must also play a central role, with local hunters, vigilante groups, traditional leaders and youth collaborating with security agencies to enhance community intelligence, which is often more immediate and effective than formal reporting. Every school should have basic security infrastructure such as perimeter fencing, CCTV systems, lighting, trained guards, alarm systems and simple screening tools that are commonplace around the world. It is time Nigeria embraced them fully.
Strengthening intelligence and early-warning mechanisms across schools, communities and local government education authorities would ensure suspicious movements trigger swift police responses. Each state must develop decentralised crisis response teams dedicated to education emergencies, capable of handling threats, evacuations and wider protection.
Teachers and learners also need periodic training on emergency escape procedures, response strategies, communication drills and trauma-coping skills, because preparedness saves lives. High-risk zones should benefit from technology-enabled protection including drones, surveillance systems and digital reporting platforms, while government-private sector partnerships involving telecoms, banks and NGOs would help sustain the financial burden of securing schools.
Even when physical attendance becomes unsafe, children must not be abandoned at home. Temporary hybrid learning through radio and television classes, structured online lessons and community learning clusters can ensure continuity. And, ultimately, the roots of insecurity must be addressed—poverty, weak military capacity, youth unemployment and the criminal networks fuelling violence. Education cannot thrive in a country where national stability is absent.
A nation’s future at the mercy of its classrooms
The fate of public school children is inseparable from the fate of Nigeria. If these children continue to lag behind, the country risks producing future leaders who are undereducated, traumatised, unprepared, vulnerable and economically disadvantaged.
A nation’s greatness is built in its classrooms, not its skyscrapers. Every day schools remain closed, Nigeria’s future dims. Because the purpose of education is national progress, and when that purpose is interrupted, the destiny of the nation is interrupted with it—for education is the nation’s heart-brain.
Nigeria today stands at a crossroads. The question before us is unavoidable: Will we continue shutting schools and sacrificing the next generation or will we choose to secure education and defend the nation’s future? The threat to education is a threat to national destiny.
A country that fails to protect its learners today will be led by unprepared adults tomorrow. Education is not only the backbone of a nation; it is the nation’s purpose, compass and hope. Failing in this cripples the country. Failing in this weakens our future. Failing in this is not an option. This is the moment for bold, practical, collective action—not fear, not silence, not shutdowns. This is time for action.