By Odesola JF., PhD
You cannot build a peaceful society by fighting every generation of angry young people. You must first build a society that gives its children something better to believe in, something meaningful to live for, and something productive to look forward to. The lasting battle against extremism may not be won on the battlefield; it may be won in the classroom.
There is a question Nigeria must find the courage to ask itself: Why have we continued to spend so much money fighting insecurity without investing the same determination in preventing the conditions that allow extremism to flourish?
For decades, Northern Nigeria has endured one security crisis after another. The names of the groups have changed, their methods have evolved, and their geographical areas of operation have expanded, but the consequences remain painfully familiar: innocent people killed, communities displaced, schools abandoned, farmers driven from their land, businesses destroyed, and families separated.
From the Maitatsine disturbances of the 1980s to Boko Haram and its splinter factions, including ISWAP, the country has witnessed the devastating consequences of religiously framed violence, radicalisation, weak institutions and prolonged social deprivation.
Today, other armed groups and criminal networks have added new dimensions to the crisis.
But we must be careful not to put every religious movement into the same category. Izala and the Islamic Movement in Nigeria (IMN), for example, are religious movements with distinct identities and histories; their existence does not make them terrorist organisations. Nor should ordinary Muslims, Islamic scholars or northern communities be held responsible for the activities of violent extremists.
That distinction is important. The enemy is not a religion, an ethnicity or a geographical location. The enemy is violent extremism, ignorance, intolerance, criminality and the failure of society to protect its most vulnerable children.
Nevertheless, an uncomfortable question deserves serious consideration: Why has Northern Nigeria experienced such persistent and widespread extremist violence, despite the presence of millions of peaceful Muslims, respected Islamic scholars and traditional institutions?
And what can other parts of Nigeria teach us about preventing the next generation from falling into the hands of extremists?
One important answer is education.
The lesson of the Western Region: What Awolowo understood
In January 1955, the government of the Western Region introduced its historic Universal Primary Education programme, associated with Chief Obafemi Awolowo’s administration.
It was an ambitious undertaking at a time when formal education was still inaccessible to many Nigerian children. The programme required substantial financial resources, classrooms, teachers, planning and political determination.
The government understood something that many leaders still struggle to appreciate: education is not simply a social service. It is an investment in the future strength of a society.
The results were remarkable in terms of school enrolment. Historical accounts document a significant increase in the number of children entering primary schools following the introduction of the programme.
Awolowo’s administration did not have unlimited resources. It faced financial and logistical difficulties, including the unexpected number of children who sought admission. The programme also encountered criticism and political opposition.
It was not a perfect programme, and its implementation involved difficult decisions. But its underlying vision was significant: a child’s future should not be determined by the economic circumstances of the family into which he or she was born.
Think about what that meant for an ordinary family in a rural community.
A farmer who could not afford school fees could now contemplate sending his child to school. A market woman who had never attended school could begin to imagine a different future for her daughter. A child whose destiny might otherwise have been confined to the circumstances of the family could acquire the tools to pursue a profession, enter public service, become a teacher, engineer, doctor or entrepreneur.
That is the transformative power of education.
And perhaps this is one of the most important lessons Nigeria needs to revisit today.
Why the North must confront its educational emergency
Let us look beyond religious arguments and examine the social realities.
According to the European Union Agency for Asylum’s January 2026 country report, more than 18 million Nigerian children of primary and secondary school age were out of school in 2024. The report also highlights enormous regional disparities in literacy, with the North-West recording particularly low literacy levels compared with Lagos. European Union Agency for Asylum +1
These figures should trouble every Nigerian, regardless of religion, political affiliation or geographical origin.
What happens to a child who grows up without access to quality education? What happens when a young person reaches adolescence without literacy, vocational skills, meaningful employment prospects or the opportunity to develop critical thinking?
Such a child is not automatically destined for extremism. That would be an unfair and dangerous assumption. Millions of Nigerians without formal education are peaceful, responsible and hardworking citizens.
However, prolonged educational exclusion creates vulnerabilities that recruiters, criminal networks and extremist ideologues can exploit.
Imagine two boys growing up in the same community.
One attends school, learns mathematics, studies history, acquires computer skills, develops friendships across religious and ethnic boundaries and begins to dream of becoming an engineer.
The other spends his childhood without access to formal education. He has little exposure to alternative ideas, no meaningful economic prospects and limited opportunities to interact with people outside his immediate environment.
Both boys deserve a future. Both deserve protection. But the second boy may be more vulnerable to individuals who offer him money, belonging, false religious promises or an opportunity to express his frustrations through violence.
This is why education must become a central part of Nigeria’s national security strategy.
Education does not destroy religion; it strengthens understanding
There is another important lesson worth considering.
Education and religious faith are not enemies. A person can be deeply committed to Islam and be highly educated. The same applies to Christianity and African Traditional Religion.
Indeed, some of the most respected religious scholars in Nigeria are products of serious intellectual training.
The problem arises when religious teachings are manipulated to encourage hatred, intolerance, violence and the rejection of other human beings.
A child who receives a balanced education is better positioned to ask questions, examine claims, understand history and distinguish genuine religious instruction from manipulation.
In a society where children encounter different religious traditions, cultures, languages and perspectives, they have a greater opportunity to develop mutual respect.
Consider a young Nigerian who studies alongside classmates from different backgrounds. He discovers that his Christian neighbour is not his enemy, that his Muslim friend shares many of his aspirations, and that people can disagree about religion without becoming enemies.
These are lessons that cannot always be acquired through sermons or government security campaigns. They must become part of the culture of education.
However, we must not romanticise the situation in Yorubaland. The South-West has also experienced religious tensions, communal violence and criminality. It is therefore inaccurate to claim that Islamic extremism or religious intolerance can never emerge in a predominantly Muslim Yoruba community.
Nor can we attribute the relative differences in extremist violence between regions to education alone.
Nevertheless, the historical commitment to Western education in much of Yorubaland offers an important lesson: when schooling becomes a deeply established social expectation, it can help strengthen social mobility, critical thinking and civic participation.
The North deserves the same opportunities, adapted to its own history, culture, religious institutions and social realities.
The Awolowo–Gowon conversation: A lesson for national leadership
There is a historical argument that deserves further investigation.
It is often claimed that Chief Obafemi Awolowo, during his service as Federal Commissioner for Finance under General Yakubu Gowon, advocated a nationwide compulsory free education programme, arguing that Nigeria’s resources should be used to educate every child.
Whether every detail of the reported conversation is historically established or not, the underlying policy argument is compelling.
Nigeria needed a national educational revolution.
General Gowon’s government subsequently introduced the National Youth Service Corps in 1973, an important programme intended to promote national integration after the civil war.
The NYSC has contributed to bringing young Nigerians from different parts of the country together. However, national integration among university graduates cannot substitute for providing basic education to millions of children who never get the opportunity to reach university.
These are two different national responsibilities.
We should therefore avoid reducing history to the claim that one programme replaced another or that a single historical decision caused today’s insecurity. The roots of extremism are much more complicated.
But imagine what Nigeria might have achieved if the enormous national resources available during the oil boom years had been matched by a sustained, nationwide commitment to universal quality education.
How many children might have become teachers, doctors, engineers, administrators, farmers and entrepreneurs?
How many communities might have developed stronger institutions?
How many young people might have found meaningful alternatives to criminal networks?
These are questions worth asking.
History should not merely be an opportunity to apportion blame. It should help us identify missed opportunities and avoid repeating mistakes.
A classroom in every community, not just a promise in Abuja
If education is to become a serious instrument against extremism, government must move beyond announcements and political speeches.
Northern Nigeria needs an educational emergency programme with measurable targets and clear accountability.
First, every child must have access to free and compulsory basic education. This should include children in remote villages, pastoral communities, internally displaced persons’ camps and areas affected by insecurity.
Second, government must invest in teachers. You cannot produce an educated generation with poorly trained, unpaid or inadequately supported teachers. A teacher should enjoy respect, professional development, regular salaries and the resources necessary to teach effectively.
Third, Almajiri education requires urgent and thoughtful attention. We must not treat Islamic education as the enemy. The objective should be to complement religious learning with literacy, numeracy, science, civic education, vocational training and practical life skills.
A child learning the Qur’an can also learn mathematics, English, computer science and agriculture.
There is no contradiction in educating a child to understand his faith while equipping him to contribute meaningfully to society.
Fourth, girls’ education must receive particular attention. A society cannot fulfil its potential while millions of its daughters are denied opportunities to learn. Educating a girl benefits not only the girl herself but also her family, children and wider community.
Fifth, education must lead somewhere. We cannot continue producing young people with certificates but no opportunities. Technical colleges, vocational institutions, agricultural training centres, digital skills programmes and entrepreneurship initiatives must become integral parts of the solution.
A young person who can repair solar installations, operate modern agricultural equipment, develop software, run a business or provide professional services has more opportunities to build a productive life.
Security operations alone cannot secure the future
Let me make something clear: education is not an immediate substitute for security operations.
Communities under attack need protection. Terrorists must be confronted through lawful and effective security measures. Kidnapped citizens must be rescued. Criminal networks must be dismantled, and those responsible for atrocities must face justice.
But military operations alone cannot produce lasting peace if the conditions that make recruitment and radicalisation attractive remain unaddressed.
A military operation may clear a community of armed groups today. But what happens five years later if the children in that community still have no schools, no teachers, no jobs and no hope?
What happens when the next generation grows up with the same grievances and vulnerabilities?
We must therefore fight insecurity on two fronts: protect the people today and build a society in which tomorrow’s children are less vulnerable to exploitation.
That requires security, education, justice, good governance, economic opportunity and responsible religious leadership working together.
Religious leaders, particularly Islamic scholars, also have a critical responsibility. They must continue to teach the sanctity of human life, peaceful coexistence, compassion and the rejection of violence against innocent people.
Traditional rulers and community leaders must support school attendance and challenge practices that deny children educational opportunities.
Parents must understand that sending a child to school is not abandoning their culture or religion. It is preparing that child to participate meaningfully in the modern world.
Where is the North’s own Awolowo?
This is perhaps the most important question.
The North does not need to abandon its identity to embrace education. It does not need to become the South-West, nor should it be expected to copy another region’s cultural experience.
It needs leaders who understand that the greatest legacy they can leave behind is not the number of roads they construct, the political offices they occupy or the number of years they remain in power.
Their greatest legacy may be the number of children they rescue from illiteracy.
Imagine a governor who decides that during his tenure, no child in his state will be deliberately left without access to basic education.
Imagine traditional rulers who make school attendance a priority in their communities.
Imagine wealthy northern businessmen adopting schools, providing scholarships, building classrooms and supporting teachers.
Imagine Islamic organisations working with government to integrate quality modern education into existing religious learning structures.
Imagine political leaders agreeing that education should not be a partisan project that changes direction whenever a new government takes office.
That is the kind of leadership the situation demands.
And it must not be limited to the North. Every Nigerian state has a responsibility to educate its children.
A child with a book deserves a better future than a child with a gun
Nigeria is approaching another defining period in its political and national development. We must begin to ask our political leaders harder questions.
How many children are in school in your state?
How many are out of school?
How many schools have qualified teachers?
How many girls are completing secondary education?
How much of the state budget is actually reaching classrooms?
How many young people are acquiring practical skills that can provide sustainable livelihoods?
These questions should matter more to us than the number of political posters displayed on our streets.
We must also stop treating education as a favour that government gives the poor. It is a fundamental right and a responsibility of the state.
The child in a remote village in Borno deserves the same educational opportunity as the child in Ikoyi, Victoria Island, Ibadan or Abeokuta.
The child of a poor farmer deserves the same chance to become a doctor as the child of a wealthy politician.
A Nigerian child’s birthplace should never become a prison sentence.
Conclusion: Let us defeat extremism before it recruits the next child
The story of Northern Nigeria must not remain a story of terrorism, displacement, poverty and endless military operations.
There is another story waiting to be written: a story of educated children, empowered women, productive communities, responsible religious institutions and visionary leadership.
We must recognise that extremists do not emerge in a vacuum. Their growth can be encouraged by ideological manipulation, political grievances, weak institutions, poverty, injustice and the absence of meaningful opportunities.
Education alone will not eliminate all these problems, but without education, our efforts to address them will remain seriously weakened.
We must therefore return to the wisdom behind the educational revolution of 1955 and ask ourselves why a country blessed with enormous human and natural resources cannot guarantee every child a decent education.
Let us stop waiting for another Maitatsine, another Boko Haram, another ISWAP or another armed group before we begin to act.
Let us invest in the child before the recruiter finds him.
Let us build schools before we build more prisons.
Let us train teachers before we spend another fortune responding to preventable crises.
Let us give our children books, computers, laboratories, workshops, opportunities and, above all, hope.
And let us remember this simple truth:
A classroom may not look like a military barracks, but it can be one of the most powerful instruments of national security.
The battle for Northern Nigeria’s future must begin with the education of its children.
Because the child we educate today may become the doctor, teacher, engineer, entrepreneur or responsible leader who helps secure our tomorrow.
The most effective way to prevent the next generation from picking up a gun may be to ensure that they have a book, a teacher, an opportunity and a reason to believe in their future.
