There were many misspelt words, but “gofment” — a failed attempt at spelling “government” — stood out. The teacher kept copying notes on the board while some students copied after her, and others were playing. It was a Primary Four classroom in a public school on the outskirts of Abuja, and nothing about it felt like learning.
Across Nigeria, this scene is no longer strange. Classrooms and lecture halls have become dumping grounds for individuals who cannot find employment elsewhere. Many of the teachers were once frustrated would-be doctors, bankers, or engineers who gave up on their dreams and ended up in the staff room, not out of passion, but because there was nowhere else to go.
With them comes disinterest, frustration, and in some cases, abuse. Cases of sex-for-marks and monetary demands in universities, as well as sexual abuse in primary schools, are all part of the decay. One of the most painful examples is the case of Kareen, the 14-year-old who was raped by her teacher — an assault that led to her death and shocked the country.
This rot is reinforced by the policy that allows Education departments to admit students with UTME scores as low as 160. Meanwhile, courses such as medicine require a grade of 300 or higher. How can we entrust the training of our future generation to those given the lowest bar to cross? In Finland — often ranked among the world’s best — only about 5 to 10 percent of applicants are accepted into teacher training, and they must complete a master’s degree before they can begin teaching.
Until teaching is treated as a profession for the qualified and committed — backed by a reward system that can retain the best minds — Nigeria’s education system will remain trapped in decline. Moreover, the blackboard will continue to reflect not just poor spelling, but a deeper national failure.
Leave feedback about this