By: Manoah Kikekon
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| Photo of Agbojedo, Oko-Agbon, Makoko community school |
In the labyrinthine waterways of Makoko, Lagos State, Nigeria, where life is measured by the ebb and flow of the lagoon, a crisis of a different kind is deepening. Beyond the daily struggle for food and clean water, the residents of the Agbojedo, Oko-AGbon community are raising a desperate cry, not for immediate sustenance, but for the future of their children.
The crumbling state and overwhelming overpopulation of the few existing schools in this iconic slum community are creating a generation at risk of being left behind, their potential sinking beneath the very waters they call home.
The heart of this crisis beats in the words of the community’s leader, Baale Daniel Hungbeji. For him, the sight of children idling on canoes or playing by the shores is a source of profound anguish. "The situation of the school has been a serious concern to me," he confesses, his voice heavy with responsibility.
He explains that the few schools in the area are already dangerously overpopulated, unable to absorb the community’s youth. This critical lack of space and resources has directly contributed to a devastating rise in the number of out-of-school children in Makoko, trapping them in a cycle of poverty with little hope of escape.
The problem is not a new one, but a perfect storm of economic hardship and withdrawn support has brought it to a breaking point. The story of a specific community school, nestled close to the Baale’s house, encapsulates this tragedy. For years, it served as a French primary school, a beacon of unique opportunity.
Teacher Benjamin Hungbeji, who dedicated his time teaching students for free, recalls its original purpose: "The students were expected to continue their education in the Benin Republic." This school was a pipeline to international education, a dream that felt tangible for Makoko’s children.
However, that pipeline has been severed. "Since the currency value has gone so high, the people have not been able to afford taking the kids to Benin Republic," laments Benjamin.
The soaring cost of cross-border education, fueled by economic instability, made the French curriculum an unaffordable luxury. Faced with this reality, the community made a pragmatic decision during a town meeting: convert the school to an English system to align with the local Nigerian curriculum and improve the children's prospects within Lagos.
This logical decision, however, triggered an unforeseen collapse. The conversion meant the school needed significant reconstruction to meet new standards a task far beyond the financial capability of the Makoko community. To make matters worse, the French organization that had been its lifeline withdrew its sponsorship.
"The French organisation sponsoring it before now said it won't continue the sponsorship as the school has already been changed to an English school," Benjamin explains. In a cruel twist, the community’s attempt to adapt to survive left them utterly stranded.
Now, a shell of a building stands as a monument to broken dreams. Where once the sounds of children learning French filled the air, there is now an echoing silence. The community, led by Baale Hinka and teachers like Benjamin, is left with nothing but pleas.
"We are pleading and begging the Lagos State Government and philanthropists to have mercy on us," Benjamin implores. Their request is simple yet profound: the support to rebuild, restock, and re-staff this school, transforming it from a relic of what was into a foundation for what could be.
The plea from the Makoko community is more than a request for bricks and mortar; it is a cry for a lifeline. In a world increasingly driven by knowledge and skills, denying these children an education is to condemn an entire community to remain on the margins.
The children of Agbojedo, Oko-AGbon do not ask for much just a dry, safe place to learn, a teacher to guide them, and a chance to prove that their potential is as vast as the lagoon they navigate daily. The question now is whether anyone will answer their call before the waves of neglect wash their future away completely.