In the schools

In the last few weeks we’ve visited a good variety of schools: primary and secondary; locally funded, state funded, and federally funded; public and private; secular and religious; universities and polytechnics. Above all, the students’ respect for their teachers and their dedication to their work stand out. We’ve seen this clearly in the polytechnic-affiliated, well-funded model schools as well as the government schools with dirt floors and open roofs. Perhaps this stems from Nigerian society; hierarchy cements this culture—within the household, village, and tribe. Traditional chiefs and emirs still command great respect. So do teachers within the classroom.
The poverty of the nation also plays a role. We’ve been told by people of all ages that education represents the only hope for the Nigerian people. The consequences of living without it line the sides of the road in any town or village. And so the students apply themselves.
The other motivator—particularly in the government schools—is the lash. School officials mete out corporeal punishment on a regular basis, with principals, teachers, and prefects walking the grounds with switches and sticks in hand. This has perhaps shocked us the most, but most Nigerians see this as a means to a necessary end.
Students here, by and large, aim for quite high achievement. They want to be doctors, lawyers, and engineers. Their favorite subjects tend towards math and science—with a few history and literature classes sprinkled in. Top students attend tutorials in the evenings and on weekends.
Rote learning dominates, with lecture as the primary pedagogy. This owes, in part, to a dire shortage of books in all the schools—even the best ones. It also relates back to the great respect paid to authority, with teachers commanding the classroom. And yet students eagerly perform, begging with “Me, auntie” for the opportunity to write out the A, B, Cs on the board or to show the relationship between basic fractions.
Religious instruction also features prominently in the curriculum, with Muslim and Christian students separated to learn more about their own faiths with the object of teaching morality. Two of us observed a lesson for Christian students in a government school on the benefit of hard work and its connection to salvation.
Schools here, as in the United States, are under-funded, but Nigerian schools are chronically short-changed. When asked why this is so, most educators blame mismanagement. Funds ear-marked for schools rarely seem to reach their intended purpose. Students, teachers, and administrators seem to make the most of tough situations.