By Odesola JF., PhD
From Kigbe in the Federal Capital Territory to schools in Niger and Bauchi states, the story is painfully familiar: children arrive at school eager to learn, only to find themselves struggling with conditions no child should have to endure. How many more generations must pass before every Nigerian child can learn with dignity?
There are some things you see that stay with you long after you have looked away. A picture of a little child sitting on a bare classroom floor, trying to write in an exercise book, is one of them.
You begin to wonder what the child is thinking. Is the floor uncomfortable? Is the child tired? Can the child see the teacher clearly? Is there a desk somewhere that another pupil has claimed, or is there simply no desk to be found?
You may never know the answers. But one thing is certain: a child should not have to struggle with such basic difficulties just to receive an education.
This is the reality confronting pupils at Kigbe Local Education Authority Primary School in Yebu Ward, Kwali Area Council of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT). According to TrackaNG, an organisation that monitors public projects across Nigeria, about 248 pupils have endured deplorable learning conditions at the school for years.
The pictures shared by the organisation show deteriorated classroom floors, patches of exposed earth and children making do with whatever seating arrangements are available. It is difficult to look at such images without asking how this situation has been allowed to continue.
These are young children. They have done nothing wrong. They did not choose where they were born, the circumstances of their families or the condition of their school. They simply want to learn.
Yet, for reasons that demand investigation and urgent action, their learning environment falls far short of what they deserve.
What makes the story even more troubling is that Kigbe is not the first school in Nigeria where children have been reported sitting on bare floors or learning in dilapidated classrooms.
Similar conditions have been documented in other parts of the FCT, as well as in Niger and Bauchi states. These reports tell a story that is bigger than one school. They raise a question about our priorities as a nation.
How can we keep talking about the future of Nigeria while some of our children are struggling to find a decent place to sit and learn?
Kigbe: The Children Behind the Numbers
It is easy to read that 248 pupils are affected and move on to the next paragraph. Numbers appear in government reports, newspaper headlines and official statements every day.
But stop for a moment and think about what that figure means.
Two hundred and forty-eight children walk into that school, each with a different story. Some may be naturally curious and eager to learn. Others may struggle with reading or mathematics. Some may come from homes where their parents can afford extra lessons and learning materials; others may depend almost entirely on what the school provides.
Whatever their circumstances, they share one thing: they deserve a fair opportunity to learn.
Imagine a little girl opening her exercise book and trying to write while sitting on the floor. Imagine a boy attempting to copy what the teacher has written on the board, with nowhere suitable to place his book. Imagine the discomfort of spending hours in a classroom that offers little of the comfort and support children need.
These are illustrations of the difficulties such conditions can create, not claims about the personal experiences of every pupil at Kigbe. But they help us understand why desks, chairs and a suitable classroom are not trivial matters.
For a child, the classroom is where much of the school day happens. It is where new words are learnt, sums are solved, questions are asked and confidence begins to grow.
When that environment is unsuitable, learning becomes harder than it needs to be.
And what about the parents?
Most parents send their children to school believing that education will give them opportunities they may not otherwise have. They may sacrifice other needs to buy uniforms, books, pencils and school supplies. Some may struggle to pay for transport or provide a daily meal.
When they send their children through the school gate, they hope those children will return home having learnt something valuable.
They should not have to wonder whether their children have spent another day sitting on bare earth because the school lacks basic furniture.
Nor should the teachers be expected to solve every problem through personal sacrifice and improvisation.
A good teacher can encourage a child, explain a difficult lesson and inspire a pupil to believe in a better future. But even the most dedicated teacher needs a reasonable environment in which to work.
The children of Kigbe deserve better. Their teachers deserve better. Their parents deserve to know that their children’s education is being taken seriously.
This Is Not the First Time: A Problem the FCT Cannot Ignore
The situation becomes even more concerning when we remember that similar problems have been reported in the FCT before.
In May 2022, TheCable published an account by Dorcas Edet examining poor school infrastructure in the territory. The report described overcrowded classrooms where at least half the pupils in some schools sat on the floor.
Some roofs had reportedly been blown off by strong winds, forcing school managements to squeeze pupils into the few remaining usable classrooms.
The writer also recalled her own experience as a pupil at one of the affected schools about 18 years earlier. She described how difficult it was to find a desk and how arriving early could become a way of securing a place to sit.
After struggling academically for four years in that environment, she moved to a private school. She reported a considerable improvement in her learning within a single term, which she attributed largely to the smaller class size and more conducive environment.
Her experience does not mean that every private school provides better education or that classroom facilities alone determine academic success. But it illustrates an important point: the environment in which a child learns can make a difference.
Now consider the passage of time.
A pupil who struggled to find a desk nearly two decades ago is now an adult. Some of those pupils may have families of their own. They may be raising children who are now entering primary school.
Yet reports of children struggling to find suitable places to sit continue to emerge.
That is what makes the situation at Kigbe so painful. It forces us to ask whether lessons have been learnt and whether the necessary improvements have reached the schools that need them most.
We cannot change the past, but we can refuse to accept that the next generation must inherit the same problems.
In the FCT, Some Children Have Had to Learn Under Trees
The story of Kigbe is not the only troubling report to emerge from the FCT.
In July 2026, TheCable reported on LEA Nomadic Primary School in Yangoji East, where children were learning under a makeshift shelter made from dried palm fronds and decaying branches.
One of the pupils, nine-year-old Badiku Saliu, had reportedly spent more than four years at the school under difficult conditions.
The report described children exposed to the sun, rain and heat. The school’s headteacher said pupils sat on bare floors or used sacks where available. When it rained, the children could not attend school or had to run home.
The investigation also identified infrastructure concerns at other rural FCT schools, including those in Makanima, Kigbe, Takuru and Gbagbalade.
These reports should make every Nigerian stop and think.
Abuja is the seat of the Federal Government. It is a city associated with national institutions, impressive buildings, major roads and the symbols of political authority.
Yet, beyond the familiar images of the capital, some children have been reported learning in conditions that are far removed from what we would hope for a modern public school.
This is not an argument that every school in the FCT is in poor condition. It is a reminder that development must reach beyond the places that attract the most attention.
For a child in a rural community, development is not a new government building or a beautiful road passing through the city. It is a classroom that does not leak when it rains. It is a desk on which to write. It is a chair on which to sit. It is a teacher who has the resources to teach.
These things may seem ordinary to those who have always had them. For children who lack them, they matter enormously.
A child in a rural community has no less value than a child attending a well-equipped school in one of Abuja’s affluent neighbourhoods.
Their circumstances may differ, but their childhood, their dignity and their right to an education matter equally.
Niger State: When a Child Begins to Lose Interest in School
In March 2023, TheCable reported on the condition of Tukura Primary School in Kontagora, Niger State.
The report described pupils sitting on bare floors because the school had no furniture. The classrooms also had deteriorated walls and leaking roofs.
One pupil, identified as Jamiu, expressed unhappiness about attending school, explaining that sitting on the floor left the children dirty after lessons. Another pupil appealed for government assistance, saying the situation was affecting them.
Teachers were also struggling with the absence of basic facilities.
There is something especially moving about a child explaining that school leaves them dirty because they have to sit on the floor.
Adults may discuss education using terms such as infrastructure, funding, enrolment and policy implementation. Those are important matters, but a child experiences the problem in much simpler terms.
The child wants somewhere to sit.
The child wants to write comfortably.
The child wants to go home without feeling that the ordinary business of attending school has become an ordeal.
And when a child begins to associate school with discomfort and frustration, we should pay attention.
We cannot conclude that every child in such a school will lose interest in education. Many children continue attending despite the difficulties, and their determination is admirable.
But why should a child who wants to learn have to overcome such obstacles?
A classroom should make a child look forward to returning the next day. It should encourage curiosity, build confidence and help pupils discover that there is a world of possibilities beyond their immediate circumstances.
The words of children like Jamiu should remind us that public education is not simply about providing a place where pupils can be registered. It is about creating an environment in which they can genuinely benefit from learning.
Bauchi and Other States: A Story That Has Been Told Before
The problem has been documented for years.
In November 2017, Channels Television reported on dilapidated public schools in Bauchi State, where pupils were learning in poor conditions and sitting on classroom floors.
At Gudum Hausawa Primary School, the report described a facility with only one block containing two classrooms. It also raised concerns about the wider challenges facing public-school infrastructure.
In 2019, The PUNCH published an investigation documenting similar difficulties in several states, including Bauchi, Benue, Cross River, Gombe, Ekiti, Imo, Plateau, Enugu and Osun.
The report described children learning in deteriorating buildings, using their laps as writing surfaces or attending lessons under trees.
These reports span different years and communities. They do not establish that every school mentioned remains in the same condition today. Some schools may have been rehabilitated, while others may still need attention.
Nevertheless, the reports raise an uncomfortable question: why have such basic problems continued to appear in public discussions about Nigerian education?
When a roof leaks, a classroom floor deteriorates or furniture becomes unusable, there should be a system for identifying the problem and addressing it before it becomes a major crisis.
A school should not have to wait for photographs to circulate online before its condition attracts attention.
Parents should not have to wonder whether anyone in authority knows what their children face each day.
And teachers should not have to keep improvising indefinitely because essential facilities are missing.
There must be a better way to manage public-school infrastructure, from identifying schools in need to allocating funds, completing repairs and maintaining the buildings after the work is done.
Otherwise, we will continue to discuss the same problems while successive generations of pupils pass through unsuitable classrooms.
But There Is Hope: Yobe Shows What Can Be Done
It would be unfair to tell only stories of neglect without acknowledging that improvement is possible.
In October 2025, UNICEF reported on the rehabilitation of learning conditions at Paga Primary School, a rural school in a farming settlement near Gashua in Yobe State.
The school, established in 1969, had endured years of deteriorating infrastructure. Its buildings had deep cracks, sections of the roof were missing, and pupils and teachers struggled with the effects of the weather.
According to UNICEF, the school had approximately 250 enrolled pupils and five teachers.
With support from the Yobe State Government and funding from Germany through the Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development and KfW, UNICEF provided a new block of three classrooms and an office.
The facilities included furniture, whiteboards, adequate lighting and fans, as well as new toilet facilities.
The intervention formed part of a wider programme that UNICEF reported had delivered more than 400 classrooms in over 200 schools across Borno, Yobe and Adamawa states.
This is an encouraging example because it shows that a rural school does not have to remain trapped in poor conditions forever.
With planning, resources and cooperation, a school can be transformed into a more suitable place for learning.
Imagine the difference for a child who previously struggled in a deteriorating classroom and now has a proper desk, a functioning classroom and a more comfortable place to learn.
The change is not simply about a new building. It is about the everyday experience of going to school.
It is about a teacher being better equipped to teach, a pupil having somewhere to write and a parent having greater confidence in the school their child attends.
The example from Paga offers a practical lesson for Kigbe and other communities facing similar difficulties.
The challenge is not to accept that poor facilities are inevitable in rural schools. The challenge is to identify what needs to be done and ensure that the necessary improvements actually happen.
Who Will Take Responsibility for Kigbe?
Concern is important, but concern alone will not repair a classroom.
The relevant authorities need to establish exactly what has gone wrong at Kigbe and what must be done to put it right.
Who is responsible for maintaining the school? Has the building been inspected recently? Have requests for repairs been submitted? Has funding been approved? If money has been allocated, what work has been completed?
These questions deserve clear answers.
The appropriate FCT education authorities and other responsible public bodies should visit the school, consult its management and teachers, assess the buildings and determine the facilities that are urgently required.
Qualified professionals should examine the structure to establish whether the classrooms are safe for continued use. If any building is unsafe, temporary learning arrangements should be provided until repairs are completed.
Where the classrooms can safely remain in use, urgent improvements should include proper desks and chairs, repairs to damaged floors and walls, and adequate ventilation and sanitation.
The authorities should then publish a practical plan setting out what will be done, who will do it and when the work is expected to be completed.
Parents, community leaders and independent organisations should be able to monitor the process.
This is not about accusing individuals without evidence. It is about ensuring that public institutions fulfil their responsibilities to the children they serve.
When public money is allocated for education, the ultimate test should be whether pupils can see and feel the difference in their classrooms.
A budget announcement is not the same as a completed project. A promise to renovate a school is not the same as a repaired classroom.
The children need the work to be done.
The Cost of Neglect Is More Than Money
When a school building is left to deteriorate, the eventual repair bill may become much larger than the cost of routine maintenance.
A leaking roof can cause further damage. A broken floor can become more difficult and expensive to repair. Furniture that is not replaced can leave one class after another without proper seating.
Regular inspections and timely repairs are therefore sensible ways of protecting public investments.
But the true cost of neglect cannot be measured only in naira.
It must also be considered in terms of the time children spend learning under unsuitable conditions, the discomfort they may experience and the additional obstacles teachers face in delivering lessons.
Education depends on many things: the quality of teaching, family support, access to books, nutrition, attendance and the wider circumstances of each child.
A good classroom cannot solve every educational problem. But a poor classroom can create difficulties that children should not have to face unnecessarily.
That is why decent infrastructure matters.
The goal is not to make every public school luxurious. It is to ensure that every school provides the basic conditions required for children to learn with reasonable comfort, safety and dignity.
Every Child Deserves the Same Chance
Nigeria has made important commitments to basic education through its laws, policies and public programmes, including the Universal Basic Education framework.
But the existence of a policy does not automatically mean that every child is experiencing its benefits.
A pupil may be enrolled in school and counted in official statistics while lacking a desk, a suitable classroom or access to essential facilities.
We should therefore ask more than how many children are enrolled. We should ask what happens after they enter the classroom.
Can they sit comfortably enough to concentrate? Do their teachers have the basic resources they need? Are the buildings safe and properly maintained? Can parents trust that the school will provide a reasonable learning environment?
These are essential questions about the quality of education.
A child’s opportunities should not depend on whether the family lives in a wealthy neighbourhood or an underserved community.
The child of a farmer in a rural settlement deserves the same concern as the child of a senior public official in Abuja.
A child whose parents cannot afford private education should not be made to feel that a decent classroom is beyond their reach.
Public education exists, in part, to ensure that children have opportunities regardless of their family circumstances.
If we believe that every child matters, that belief must be visible in the places where children learn.
Let Kigbe Become a Turning Point
The story of Kigbe should not end with public outrage, sympathetic comments and another round of promises.
The authorities should visit the school, assess its condition and develop a clear plan for improvement. The community should be involved, and the public should be able to follow the progress.
Businesses, charitable foundations and concerned individuals may also offer support in partnership with the relevant authorities. Such assistance can be valuable, but it should complement government’s responsibility rather than replace it.
Most importantly, the work must be sustained.
A renovated classroom must be maintained. Desks and chairs must remain usable. Damaged roofs, floors and walls must be repaired promptly. The school should not be left to deteriorate until another generation of children is forced to endure the same conditions.
The examples from Yobe and other communities show that improvement is possible. What is needed is the determination to ensure that children do not have to wait for years before help arrives.
We may never know which of the 248 pupils at Kigbe will become a doctor, a teacher, an engineer, a lawyer or a community leader. Some may still be too young to know what they want to become.
That is precisely why they deserve a fair opportunity.
They should be allowed to discover their abilities, develop their confidence and imagine a future beyond the circumstances into which they were born.
Nigeria often describes its young population as its greatest asset. Those words should mean something to the child sitting on the floor of a public-school classroom.
The future is not simply something we discuss at conferences or celebrate in speeches. It is being shaped every day in classrooms across the country.
It is in the child learning to read, the pupil struggling with a mathematics problem and the teacher trying to explain a new lesson.
At Kigbe, those children deserve more than our sympathy.
They deserve action.
They deserve proper desks and chairs. They deserve safe classrooms. They deserve teachers who have the resources to teach effectively. And they deserve the assurance that their education matters to the society in which they are growing up.
We cannot promise every child an easy life. But we can, and should, ensure that obtaining a basic education does not require enduring years of avoidable hardship.
The children of Kigbe are not asking for luxury. They are asking for a decent place to learn.
That should not be too much to ask of a nation that believes in its future.
Let the story of Kigbe become a turning point—from concern to action, from promises to completed projects, and from neglected classrooms to places where children can learn with dignity.
Because when a child sits on a bare floor and struggles to learn, the question is not merely what that child lacks.
The question is what the rest of us are prepared to do about it.
The writer believes that every Nigerian child deserves a safe and decent learning environment. The future of our nation is too important for us to look away
