Every new school term in Nigeria begins with a familiar ritual. Parents and guardians brace themselves for tuition, uniforms, and textbooks, while social media timelines overflow with prayers for strength to meet the bills. The collective sigh captures the reality: education has become one of the most stressful financial undertakings in Nigerian households. At the centre of this struggle lies an enduring question, does the cost of schooling correlate with the ability of a child to succeed academically and, more importantly, to navigate life with competence and resilience?
For decades, education has been seen as the surest pathway to upward mobility, and families have been willing to forgo almost everything to secure “the best” education for their children. Increasingly, that pursuit has taken the shape of enrolling children in elite private schools at home or abroad, even when the fees stretch family incomes to breaking point. The rationale is simple: high fees must mean high quality. But the evidence complicates this assumption. Expensive schools may boast modern infrastructure, international curricula, and small class sizes; yet none of these is a guarantee of excellence in examinations or of the resilience, creativity, and problem-solving skills required beyond the classroom.
This paradox is not unique to Nigeria. Globally, researchers highlight that access to resources matters, but outcomes depend just as much on intangibles such as teacher quality, parental involvement, peer networks, and the motivation of students themselves. In Nigeria, however, the contrast between expensive private schools and underfunded public institutions has sharpened perceptions. Ironically, many of the nation’s past leaders, professionals, and innovators were products of public schools that, despite meagre resources, instilled discipline, rigour, and civic values. Today, the assumption that excellence can only be purchased risks obscuring more complex determinants of success.
The culture of equating expense with excellence is visible across every tier of education. At nursery and primary levels, schools compete to showcase advanced teaching methods and foreign curricula, even when they impose financial strain on families. While these may broaden horizons, they also impose costs that create social stratification. At secondary level, prestige dominates, with schools advertising their success in foreign examinations or international university placements. At tertiary level, the pressure escalates further, as families sacrifice almost everything to send their children abroad, convinced that international exposure is the only shield against the weaknesses of Nigerian universities. The result is an educational culture where cost and prestige increasingly overshadow balance, sustainability, and inclusivity.
Research in developmental psychology offers a sobering reminder. It reveals that while resources matter, qualities such as resilience, adaptability, and emotional intelligence are equally vital for long-term success. These qualities are not exclusive to expensive schools; indeed, they often emerge more strongly in environments where students must confront and overcome constraints. Employers consistently emphasise that beyond certificates, they value graduates who can think critically, solve problems, and collaborate effectively. High cost education may create opportunities for such skills, but it does not guarantee them.
The financial burden of education also carries profound social consequences. Many households enter cycles of debt to pay tuition, with fathers in particular bearing the silent weight of expectation. Banks and other financial institutions have responded by offering “back-to-school” loans and credit facilities, normalising a culture of borrowing for education. While these facilities provide short-term relief, they deepen the assumption that success must come at any price. In the long run, this undermines the very stability families hope education will provide.
This is not to dismiss the role of well-managed private schools. When thoughtfully run, they can expose students to broader perspectives, foster innovation, and equip learners with globally competitive skills. But the challenge is ensuring such opportunities do not widen inequality, creating a two-tier system where only the privileged can benefit. Equally important is recognising that education is not a commodity alone. It is a process shaped by family values, community involvement, and individual effort.
The link between expensive education and life outcomes is far less direct than many assume. True success rests not merely on tuition bills but on the quality of teaching, the values imparted, and the ability of learners to apply knowledge in the real world. A balanced approach is needed – one that invests in strengthening public schools, regulates private ones, and ensures quality is not reduced to a matter of affordability.
As another academic term begins, it is worth asking what parents and policymakers really mean by “the best” education. If it is defined only by prestige and cost, the cycle of anxiety and inequality will deepen. But if redefined as the capacity to prepare children with knowledge, skills, and resilience for an uncertain future, education will align more closely with its true purpose. The challenge, then, is not whether schools are expensive or cheap, but whether they equip children not just to pass examinations, but to succeed in life. Education should not be a contest of wealth but a commitment to equity. Nigeria’s future depends on valuing substance over status, and nurturing every child’s potential, regardless of background.
