At first glance, the federal government's decision to regulate graduation ceremonies and introduce reusable textbooks in schools may seem trivial, even ridiculous. After all, how serious can birthday parties, colorful graduation gowns, or annual textbook changes really be? For millions of Nigerian parents, especially those with children in private schools, these practices have quietly become a source of financial anxiety, social pressure, and deep resentment. What looks small on paper has turned into a heavy, recurring burden. Therefore, the new policy direction deserves praise, not laughter.
I can relate to this as I started my life as a nursery/private school teacher. As a teacher, I saw three categories of parents (mostly mothers interact with school authorities). The first category does everything on time (paying school fees and bringing their children to school). This category mostly consists of working class parents who don't really have time for extravagance. The second category are those who manage to get along, while the third category are those who are often late to everything regarding their children (they bring their children late to school on a daily basis). This third category consists mostly of full-time housewives, who have plenty of time to spend on small things.
In recent years, school education in Nigeria, especially in private institutions (nursery to secondary), has transformed from its original mission of learning to a theater of competition. Birthday celebrations in classrooms became elaborate events with souvenirs, cakes and mandatory contribution (in some cases) of parents. Graduation ceremonies were no longer milestones marking meaningful educational changes, but annual rituals held at every level from nursery to primary four with compulsory fees. Parents who questioned these practices were often shamed or told that their children would be excluded. It most often affects children with category two parents. Sadly, those comprising the third category of parents are used by the school authorities to champion the programmes, as they are allowed to attend functions with friends and well-wishers.
In this backdrop, the new policy launched by the Federal Education Ministry is both timely and necessary. The framework, jointly released by Minister of Education Maroof Tunji Aloussa and Minister of State for Education Suivaba Saeed, aims to cut the cost of education, improve learning outcomes and restore sanity to a system that has become quietly exploitative.
At the heart of the policy is the introduction of durable, reusable textbooks designed to last four to six years. This directly confronts one of the most pervasive cost drivers in Nigerian schools (the forced annual purchase of new textbooks). Many parents are familiar with this pattern: books are replaced every season, often with no meaningful differences in content, only cosmetic modifications to the cover design or pagination. The result is predictable, as families are forced to spend much more annually on materials that could have served siblings or classmates for years.
By prohibiting the bundling of disposable workbooks with textbooks and emphasizing standardized, high-quality materials, the policy restates a basic principle that education systems around the world already recognize: learning resources should be assets, not consumables. In countries with strong education outcomes, textbooks are reused, shared and preserved. Therefore, Nigeria should be no different.
The major implications go beyond cost savings, as reusable textbooks promote equity. When materials are sustainable and standardized, children from low-income families are less harmed. The policy also aligns with environmental sustainability by reducing waste, which is a subtle but significant benefit for a nation struggling with poor waste management.
Equally important is the decision to limit graduation ceremonies to Primary 6, Junior Secondary School 3 and Senior Secondary School 3. This is perhaps the most socially sensitive and most courageous aspect of the reform. Graduation ceremonies, once symbolic of major transitions, have now become commercialized into annual obligations. Schools turned them into revenue streams, often outsourcing them to vendors who charged parents for gowns, photographs, souvenirs, and programs.
For many parents, these ceremonies were not optional. Non-payment often means embarrassment for the child or exclusion from school activities, a suggestion most parents make in the third category.
In a fragile economy, such practices deepen inequality and add emotional stress to financial stress. By drawing a clear line, the government is emphasizing that education is not a program-planning industry.
Crucially, the policy does not ban celebrations but restores proportions. Children may still be identified informally within classes. What is being curbed is the institutionalization of excesses, and distinction matters.
Beyond cost control, the framework strengthens quality assurance in textbook development and use. It addresses the long-standing issues of weak standards, crowded approval lists and superficial modifications that provide poor value for money. By limiting the number of approved textbooks per subject and grade, in line with international best practices, the policy simplifies school choices and improves inspection.
Also important is the continued central role of the Nigerian Educational Research and Development Council (NERDC) in textbook evaluation. When appropriately empowered, NERDC can ensure that learning content is curriculum-aligned, educationally sound and culturally relevant. In this way the improvement becomes practical rather than cosmetic.
The introduction of a uniform academic calendar supports system-wide coherence. Consistency in planning helps parents, teachers, and administrators alike. This reduces confusion and increases coordination across states and school systems, especially at the basic education level supported by the Universal Basic Education Commission.
Of course, a policy is only as effective as its implementation. Private schools, in particular, may resist changes that threaten lucrative favor practices. This is where firm regulation and parental awareness must work together. Parents should feel empowered to question unlawful charges, and education authorities should be prepared to impose sanctions on defaulters.
The ideal case is not a joyless school environment devoid of celebration or creativity. It's where learning comes first, costs are transparent, and families aren't forced to spend as competitively as school culture does. Birthdays should be a personal family choice, not a classroom obligation, and graduations should symbolize real educational milestones, not routine promotions.
In a country where many parents struggle to pay basic school fees, these reforms send an important signal: education should not impoverish those it aims to empower. What seemed ridiculous on first reading is actually a serious intervention in defense of fairness, affordability and common sense. For this the government deserves praise and continuous public support.
