In the small, quiet town of Ugbekpe Ekperi, tucked within Etsako Central Local Government Area of Edo State, more than 100 young pupils attend school every day without a roof over their heads.
For over three years, these children at Dele Giwa Memorial Primary School have learned in the open—come rain, come shine. Their classrooms? Broken concrete floors. Their desks? None. No blackboards. No books. Just the sky above them, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, someone will come to help.
Named in memory of the late Dele Giwa, a fearless journalist and son of the community, the school was once a symbol of pride. But after a violent windstorm tore through the structure, the roof was gone—and so was the sense of safety. Nothing has been rebuilt since.
It’s hard to imagine that this is happening in a state where, between 2020 and 2023, the government allocated over ₦92 billion to education, with a massive ₦33 billion set aside in 2023 alone—₦19.4 billion of that for capital projects like school buildings. Still, Dele Giwa Memorial remains in ruins.
A recent report by civic tech platform Monitng, which monitors public spending, summed it up heartbreakingly:
“The school has become a symbol of abandonment: no desks, no books, no blackboards, just broken floors and fading hope.”
Their findings raise tough questions about the EdoBEST education reform programme, especially in rural areas like Edo North, where this school is located.
“It is deeply disappointing,” the report continued, “that such neglect persists in a region represented by prominent political figures like Senator Adams Oshiomhole and former Deputy Governor Philip Shaibu.”
A School Forgotten by Its Leaders
To the people of Ugbekpe Ekperi, the silence from the state government is both painful and confusing. They’ve watched other schools get refurbished, while theirs has been left behind—despite the noise of billion-naira budgets.
For them, the numbers don’t matter anymore. What matters is seeing children crouch on bare ground, squinting against the sun, or huddling together when it rains—trying to focus on lessons that deserve more than dust and despair.
Many locals say the government’s failure to act is more than neglect—it’s a disrespect to the late Dele Giwa’s legacy, and a denial of the children’s basic right to education.
“It breaks our hearts,” said one local teacher. “Every year, we hear about budgets. Every year, nothing changes. Our children are still on the ground. All we want is a roof, desks, and a blackboard.”
Time to Step Up
Now, Monitng and other civil society groups are calling on Governor Godwin Obaseki’s government and the next state leadership to act—urgently.
“These children have been patient enough,” Monitng stated. “This is not just a matter of infrastructure—it’s a matter of dignity, fairness, and securing their future.”
With the 2025 academic year around the corner, the community is clinging to hope that this time, someone will finally listen. That someone in government will remember the children who’ve already lost three years of normal schooling.
Because this isn’t just about a school.
It’s about the future of a community—and whether those who lead are willing to stand up for the ones who cannot speak for themselves.
The time to act is now.
