for over 10 years, students of Government Science Secondary School in Oguma, Bassa Local Government Area of Kogi State, have been forced to receive their education under the shade of mango trees. What used to be a school has become a haunting relic—roofless, broken-walled, and abandoned.
According to a recent visit by civic tech platform Monitng, the school buildings are no longer just dilapidated—they’re dangerous. “Not a single classroom block is in usable condition,” the team reported. “The roofs have collapsed, walls are cracked or fallen, and windows are nothing but gaping holes. It’s not a school—it’s a ruin.”
With nowhere else to go, students gather under trees, clutching their books as wind, dust, and heat battle for their attention. And when the rains come? School stops entirely. “This is not education,” Monitng lamented. “This is abandonment.”
The hardship has done more than disrupt learning—it’s broken spirits. Teachers feel helpless. Parents are heartbroken. Some families, though barely surviving, have been forced to transfer their children to private schools just to give them a chance at real education. Many more can’t afford that option.
“It’s painful,” one parent said. “You send your child to school, and they come back sunburned, soaked, or empty-handed because classes couldn’t hold. What kind of future are we offering them?”
What’s even more heartbreaking, according to Monitng, is that the situation has persisted despite repeated cries for help. Under former Governor Yahaya Bello and now under Governor Usman Ododo, the community says its pleas have been ignored.
Worse still, public records suggest that money was available. Monitng cited UBEC data showing that ₦250 billion had been disbursed across all states for school rehabilitation. Yet, in Oguma, not a single nail has been driven in. There are even allegations that portions of the funds were diverted for personal gain.
“How is it that with billions allocated to education, our children are still sitting on stones?” asked a youth leader in the community. “Where did all that money go?”
Enrollment has plummeted. The school, once a symbol of hope, now stands as a reminder of failed promises. The community, weary and disillusioned, is asking for one thing: action.
“Governor Ododo, please hear us,” Monitng pleaded. “Our children deserve more than mango trees. They deserve classrooms. They deserve dignity. They deserve a future.”
The call is loud, and the nation is listening. Will the Kogi State government finally respond? Or will another generation of children grow up believing that learning under trees is all they’ll ever get?
