We Wanted to Be Like Them: Nigerian Women's (In)Access to Formal Education

By Germaine M. Habell '13

Thesis Advisor: Professor Margaret R. Hunt

 Introduction: In August of 2012 I traveled, for the second time, to Ikenne, Ogun State, in western Nigeria. Ikenne is my mother’s hometown, and I was fortunate to visit her for the summer and spend time at Mayflower Private School, where she is the principal. Having been to Ikenne and Mayflower two years prior, I was eager to continue my conversations with some of the women who work at the school as childcare providers, cooks in the cafeteria, groundskeepers, and in other positions often deemed low skilled. A picture began to emerge over the course of our dialogues: none of the woman I spoke to were from Ikenne or the surrounding towns, and most hadn’t been educated beyond the primary level (with the exception of a University graduate, who was completing her state-mandated year of post-tertiary community service).  Most were from rural, farming communities all across Nigeria, and in learning about my own undergraduate experience, all expressed their appreciation of and desire for education. Time and time again, I was reminded of my incredible privilege as a young person within arm’s reach of a college degree. How was it possible, I wondered, that the majority of the women I came into contact with had not completed primary and/or secondary school, despite nationwide campaigns to protect girls’ education? Roadside billboards depicted images of parents reading with their children, alongside captions like “Educate the Girl Child!” Radio announcements reminded listeners to report sightings of children hawking in the streets, when they should be in school.

Extended family members told stories of how advanced Nigeria was compared to other African nations, in terms of women’s rights; prior to British colonization, many societies across the would-be Republic were matrilineal, they reminded me. They would tell me these stories as we drank coffee and poured over newspapers in the morning, or during weekend drives to upscale shopping malls in Victoria Island, outside Lagos. Women were valued, they said –their leadership respected. Smart girls, if they studied hard enough, could become doctors, politicians, filmmakers. During quiet moments with my grandmother, on the other hand, I received a much different assessment of women’s right to education in Nigeria. Many women married young, she said, and were trapped in abusive relationships –prevented entirely from attending school. The cost of feeding large families drained any funds that could be allocated toward tuition. Women were not free to explore their interests –or as the great education philosopher John Dewey wrote, embrace “the contrast between the material and ideal selves, between the world and spirit (Dewey xi). It was in this atmosphere that I conducted interviews with six women who work at Mayflower Private School, ranging from their early 20s to their late 50s. I wanted to know their familial histories, their perspectives on their educational experiences, their hopes for their future academic lives. How had the state’s public commitment to women’s education been reflected in, or differed from, their journeys and opportunities? Was the human right to education protected for women in Nigeria?