No child should fear the classroom

Children sitting for a public examination ought to be preoccupied with recalling formulas, analysing passages and writing essays that will shape their future. They should not be calculating escape routes or wondering whether armed men will storm their classrooms. Yet that was the cruel reality in Borno State on Monday, when gunmen attacked Lassa Day Secondary School in Askira-Uba Local Government Area during the ongoing West African Senior School Certificate Examination (WASSCE), abducting an unspecified number of students. Security operatives later rescued at least 10 victims, but reports also indicated that two teachers and a student were killed in the attack.

The incident has once again exposed one of Nigeria’s most painful national failures. More than twelve years after the Chibok schoolgirls were abducted and the world declared solidarity through the Bring Back Our Girls campaign, schools in parts of northern Nigeria remain frighteningly vulnerable. The names of the communities may change. The victims may be different. The headlines may come and go. The underlying problem, however, remains stubbornly familiar. Education continues to operate under the shadow of violence.

That this attack occurred during the WAEC examinations makes it especially heartbreaking. The examination represents the culmination of years of hard work. For many candidates, success in the WASSCE determines whether they proceed to higher education, secure scholarships or pursue career aspirations. Families invest enormous financial and emotional resources preparing their children for this milestone. Teachers devote months to revision classes, often under difficult circumstances. To invade an examination centre is therefore to attack far more than a school building. It is an assault on ambition, on opportunity and on the belief that education remains a pathway to a better life.

The tragedy also reveals how insecurity has evolved beyond a military concern into an educational crisis. Every attack on a school sends shockwaves far beyond the immediate community. Parents begin questioning whether it is worth sending their children to school. Attendance declines. Teachers request transfers from volatile areas. Some schools suspend academic activities altogether, while others relocate, disrupting learning and placing additional burdens on already stretched educational systems. The consequences linger long after the gunmen have disappeared.

For students, the scars extend well beyond physical survival. Children who witness violence in what should be a place of safety often carry deep psychological trauma. Fear becomes associated with classrooms. Concentration suffers. Confidence evaporates. Some abandon education entirely. Those who eventually return to school frequently struggle with anxiety that no examination timetable can measure. A nation cannot expect academic excellence from children forced to learn under constant fear.

The attack also revives difficult questions about the effectiveness of Nigeria’s efforts to protect schools. Following the Chibok abductions in 2014, the Federal Government launched the Safe Schools Initiative with support from international partners. Nigeria later endorsed the Safe Schools Declaration, committing itself to protecting students, teachers and educational institutions during armed conflict. Considerable resources have been invested in strengthening school security, training personnel and supporting affected communities. Yet incidents such as the latest attack suggest that implementation has remained uneven, particularly in remote communities where security presence is limited and response times are often slow.

The challenge is undoubtedly complex. Borno State continues to confront the activities of Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), groups that have repeatedly targeted educational institutions because education itself contradicts the ideology they seek to impose. Schools have become symbolic targets through which terrorists spread fear, undermine government authority and discourage communities from embracing formal education. Their objective extends beyond kidnapping individuals. They seek to cripple confidence in the education system itself. That objective must never be allowed to succeed.

One disturbing aspect of this latest incident is that warning signs already existed. Askira-Uba and surrounding communities have experienced repeated attacks in recent years. Educational authorities and security agencies were aware that schools in the area remained vulnerable. Questions must therefore be asked about whether adequate preventive measures were in place during a period when thousands of students were gathering daily for nationally coordinated examinations. Security planning should recognise that examination periods naturally increase risks because they bring together large numbers of students at predictable locations and times.

Government’s response cannot be confined to rescue operations after attacks have occurred. Rescue is necessary and commendable, particularly where lives are saved, but prevention must become the central objective. Intelligence gathering should be strengthened through deeper collaboration with local communities that often possess valuable information about suspicious movements. Rural schools require more consistent security presence, improved surveillance and faster emergency response mechanisms. Examination centres in conflict-prone areas deserve special protection throughout examination periods.

There is equally a humanitarian responsibility that extends beyond the headlines. Students who survive attacks require counselling, educational support and reassurance that their future has not been stolen alongside their sense of safety. Families deserve transparent communication. Teachers who continue serving in dangerous communities deserve far greater recognition and protection than they currently receive. Their commitment often borders on extraordinary courage.

The broader implications for national development cannot be ignored. Every child prevented from completing an education represents a loss not only to the individual but also to Nigeria’s future workforce, economy and democratic development. Countries do not build prosperity by allowing classrooms to become crime scenes. They build it by ensuring that every child can learn without fear.

Nigeria has demonstrated remarkable resilience against insecurity over the years. Security forces have recorded important victories, rescued numerous abductees and disrupted terrorist operations. Those achievements deserve acknowledgement. At the same time, isolated successes cannot obscure the recurring pattern of attacks on civilians, particularly schoolchildren. Every successful assault weakens public confidence and strengthens the perception that terrorists can still dictate the rhythm of daily life in vulnerable communities. Nigeria owes its children something far better than resilience. It owes them safety.

The rescue of some abducted students offers hope, and every effort must continue until every remaining victim is safely reunited with family members. Those responsible for the attack must also be identified, apprehended and prosecuted. Justice matters, not only for accountability but also for restoring confidence that crimes against children and schools carry serious consequences.

This tragedy should compel a national reckoning. If children cannot sit for examinations without armed protection, then the crisis extends far beyond education. It touches the very capacity of the state to fulfil one of its most fundamental obligations: protecting the lives and futures of its citizens.

Every examination season should celebrate achievement, reward diligence and open doors to new opportunities. It should never be remembered for abandoned answer booklets, grieving families and missing students. Nigeria’s children deserve classrooms where the loudest sound is the turning of examination papers, not the crack of gunfire.