In a country as populous, complex, and promising as Nigeria, the future hinges on the strength of its human capital and yet half of that potential continues to be underleveraged. While more girls are now enrolled in schools and are doing amazing in men-dominated fields than in previous decades, Nigerian schools still fail to intentionally prepare them for leadership. The classroom may be the entry point, but for many girls, it remains a ceiling. The education system is still largely structured in ways that reinforce compliance rather than courage, silence rather than assertiveness, and dependency rather than autonomy. As a result, even the brightest girls often graduate without the confidence, tools, or networks required to lead in their communities or careers. The trajectory from classroom to career must be one that equips girls not only with academic knowledge but also with the strategic capabilities needed to shape, not just survive, the future.
Leadership training cannot begin in adulthood. It must be embedded in the foundational years of schooling. When girls are conditioned early to raise their hands, voice their thoughts, question the norm, and lead group projects not just pass exams, they begin to build the muscle for leadership in whatever field they eventually enter. Nigerian schools, however, remain heavily exam-oriented, focusing on rote memorisation rather than critical thinking, negotiation, decision-making or innovation. Girls, in particular, are often socialised to be “well-behaved” and quiet in the classroom, praised more for obedience than for initiative. This reinforces traditional gender expectations, limiting their professional and civic ambitions long before they leave school.
Worse still, classroom structures and dynamics in Nigeria often sideline female students from visible, leadership-type roles. In mixed schools, boys are more likely to dominate classroom discussions, sports, technology-related clubs, and even school prefectship roles. When leadership positions are handed to girls, they are often restricted to titles that reinforce caregiving roles such as assistant class captain, health prefect, or food monitor rather than positions that nurture assertiveness, decision-making and policy engagement, such as head prefect or debate club president. By the time these girls reach tertiary institutions, they have already internalised the belief that leadership is a male domain. They retreat into academic silence, even when intellectually capable.
Curriculum content itself remains largely gender-blind, if not gender-biased. Textbooks still portray men as decision-makers, scientists, engineers and national heroes, while women are shown cooking, cleaning, or supporting their husbands. History lessons often gloss over the contributions of powerful Nigerian women like Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, Margaret Ekpo, or Gambo Sawaba. The implication is clear: men lead, women follow. Without visible and relatable female leadership figures in their learning materials, girls struggle to visualise themselves in powerful positions.
Additionally, many schools lack structured mentorship programmes that can expose girls to female role models in fields traditionally dominated by men. Mentorship is a critical piece of the leadership puzzle. When young girls have access to women who have navigated complex academic and professional terrains, they gain not only inspiration but insight into the tools, mindset, and resilience required to lead. Unfortunately, few schools in Nigeria prioritise this. Girls are left to navigate their aspirations in isolation, often stifled by community expectations that equate ambition with rebellion.
The school environment itself plays a role in conditioning or crushing leadership potential. In many parts of Nigeria, especially in the north and some rural southern communities, girls still face restrictions around mobility, expression, and participation. They are discouraged from staying late for extracurricular activities. They are told that being outspoken is inappropriate. Some are pulled out of school altogether when they hit puberty, married off under the guise of protecting family honour. For those who remain, their education becomes a negotiation between tradition and aspiration, a negotiation they often lose.
Furthermore, the existing school counselling systems are poorly developed and often underfunded. Counsellors, when present, are mostly fixated on academic performance rather than holistic development, which includes career guidance, leadership potential, and emotional intelligence. As a result, girls graduate with certificates but without vision. They know what society expects them to be, but not what they are capable of becoming.
Fixing this problem begins with intentional policy reform and institutional action. Schools must revise their curriculum to integrate leadership development into every stage of the academic journey. This means designing activities that build confidence, teaching negotiation and public speaking, encouraging girls to take initiative, and ensuring gender equity in school governance structures. Beyond academic excellence, character development and soft skills must be given equal weight.
Teacher training programmes must also evolve. Educators need to be sensitised on unconscious gender biases and trained to create classrooms that nurture female leadership. This involves giving girls equal speaking time, encouraging them to lead group tasks, and actively involving them in STEM-related projects and discussions. Teachers must become not just deliverers of content, but activators of potential.
In addition, there must be deliberate efforts to deconstruct gender stereotypes in textbooks and instructional materials. National curriculum authorities should collaborate with publishers to ensure more balanced representation of male and female figures in history, literature, science, and social studies. By normalising women in positions of influence within educational content, the psychological barriers to girls’ leadership begin to erode.
Schools should also form partnerships with private sector organisations and NGOs to establish mentorship and internship programmes tailored to girls. These partnerships can bring successful female professionals into schools for regular talks, provide shadowing opportunities, and offer career-building workshops. Such exposure is invaluable for demystifying success and creating pathways that connect classroom learning to real-world leadership.
Parents too must be part of this reformation. Many Nigerian families still operate under the belief that a girl’s success is ultimately defined by her marriage, not her merit. These beliefs are reinforced subtly by discouraging assertiveness, by ignoring girls’ career aspirations, or by instructing them to shrink in the presence of male counterparts. Parental enlightenment campaigns, school-hosted dialogues, and community-based interventions are necessary to shift mindsets and ensure that the home environment does not undo what schools are trying to build.
The urgency of this issue cannot be overstated. Nigeria cannot achieve meaningful development if its female population continues to be underprepared for leadership. From the tech industry to politics, healthcare to entrepreneurship, the need for diverse voices and inclusive leadership has never been more critical. Girls must be equipped not only to enter these fields but to lead them, innovate within them, and transform them.
Ultimately, leadership is not a title; it is a mindset. It begins in how a girl sees herself, what she believes is possible, and the support she receives to pursue those beliefs. Nigerian schools, as the first formal institution most girls encounter, must rise to this responsibility. They must shift from simply educating girls to empowering them because a classroom that fails to prepare girls for leadership is one that perpetuates national underachievement.
The journey from classroom to career is long and often treacherous for Nigerian girls, not because they lack talent or ambition, but because they are consistently underserved by the very systems meant to nurture them. It’s time to redesign that journey to build an education system that not only teaches but empowers; that not only tests but trusts; and that not only graduates girls but grows leaders. The future of the nation depends on it.
