Nothing scares a violent ideology more than a classroom filled with students who can think critically, deeply rooted in their faith yet open to reason. In Nigeria today, particularly in the North where extremism has torn communities apart, Islamic education stands at the threshold of transformation.
It can either remain reactive—used to respond after young people have been radicalised—or become preventive, equipping the next generation with the knowledge and moral clarity to resist extremist manipulation. The challenge is to achieve this without diluting the sanctity of faith.
Over the past decade, the devastating impact of Boko Haram and other extremist movements has left deep scars on Nigeria’s educational landscape. Thousands of schools have been destroyed, teachers murdered, and students displaced.
The crisis, however, is not limited to physical structures; it also affects the intellectual and moral foundation of learning. In regions where formal schooling has been disrupted, many young people turn to unregulated Quranic schools that, while noble in intent, often lack standardized curricula and qualified teachers. In such environments, extremist preachers find it easy to exploit religious ignorance and twist scripture to justify violence.
Recognising this, several state governments and Islamic institutions in Nigeria have begun to reform their educational systems to counter extremist ideologies from within. One notable example comes from Borno State, where Governor Babagana Umara Zulum recently introduced a unified curriculum for Islamic schools, popularly known as Tsangaya or Islamiyya schools.
The initiative, built on the framework of the National Board for Arabic and Islamic Studies, seeks to ensure that lessons on the Qur’an, Hadith, and Fiqh are delivered with proper context and interpretation. According to Zulum, the curriculum was designed “to counter violent extremist ideologies and help avert young people from being radicalised by terrorist groups.” Beyond religious instruction, the program introduces literacy, numeracy, and civic education, enabling students to understand both faith and the society they live in.
In an even bolder move, Borno converted the Mustapha Umar Elkanemi Arabic Teachers’ College into a specialised institute in partnership with Egypt’s Al-Azhar University. The plan is to produce a new generation of teachers who are theologically grounded and intellectually equipped to preach peace and moderation. Graduates from this collaboration are expected to return to their local communities as ambassadors of balanced Islamic education, countering the distorted messages that extremist groups spread in villages and mosques.
Governor Zulum has publicly acknowledged that improper teaching of Islamic studies in the past contributed to the rise of Boko Haram. “Some of the wrong interpretations of our holy texts have misled generations,” he said during one of his education reform unveilings, “and we must now ensure that what we teach reflects the authentic content of our religion.” His stance has drawn attention across Nigeria, showing that educational policy can play a central role in addressing extremism without undermining Islam’s moral authority.
Influential Islamic scholars have also weighed in. Sheikh Ahmad Gumi, one of the country’s most vocal clerics, has long argued that ignorance, poverty, and social injustice are the true breeding grounds for violent extremism.
In one of his lectures in Kaduna, Gumi questioned: “Why do we leave our children uneducated? Why is education not for everybody?” He insists that closing the educational gap is as crucial as military operations in restoring peace. Gumi’s statements highlight a truth many policymakers overlook—that extremism thrives not merely on misinterpretation of scripture but on despair, marginalisation, and hopelessness.
This recognition has also shaped Nigeria’s Almajiri reform programmes. For decades, millions of children have roamed streets under the guise of religious learning, exposed to neglect and sometimes exploitation. The Borno Arabic and Sangaya Education Board has sought to integrate modern learning into traditional settings so that children studying the Qur’an can also acquire reading, writing, and vocational skills. This integration does not erode faith; it strengthens it by grounding religious knowledge in real-world relevance and self-reliance.
When placed in a global context, Nigeria’s reforms reflect broader Islamic educational transformations. In Egypt, Al-Azhar University has long promoted *wasatiyya*, the principle of moderation in theology, producing preachers who refute extremist ideologies with scholarship rather than slogans.
In Indonesia, the pesantren (Islamic boarding school) system has evolved to combine Quranic studies with civic education, science, and entrepreneurship, making students both pious and socially responsible. Saudi Arabia’s ideological rehabilitation centers for former extremists, though not without criticism, also demonstrate how authentic theology can be used to challenge radical narratives while maintaining doctrinal fidelity.
The essence of these models, whether in Nigeria or abroad, lies in one fundamental truth: faith is not the enemy of progress, and religious education does not have to contradict civic values. When taught responsibly, Islam naturally embodies peace, compassion, and justice. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) taught that “the best among you are those who learn the Qur’an and teach it,” a principle that encourages the pursuit of knowledge as an act of devotion. Extremism, on the other hand, is the corruption of both faith and reason.
Nigeria’s journey towards integrating this balance is far from easy. Resistance remains from some clerics who view unified curricula and government oversight as threats to religious independence. Others fear that modern subjects could dilute faith. Yet, these concerns can be addressed through dialogue, transparency, and inclusive policymaking that respects Islamic scholarship. Reform must never come across as an attempt to Westernize Islam but as an effort to return to its authentic spirit—a faith rooted in mercy, intellect, and justice.
The challenge ahead is largely one of sustainability. Schools need qualified teachers, improved infrastructure, and consistent funding to maintain standards. Educators must receive training not only in theology but also in pedagogy, peacebuilding, and civic engagement. Monitoring systems must ensure that what is taught aligns with both national goals and religious authenticity.
Ultimately, the fight against extremism will not be won by weapons but by words—by classrooms that teach young Nigerians how to see the world through the lens of knowledge and empathy rather than hatred and fear. Islamic education, if properly harnessed, can serve as both a shield and a light: a shield against those who weaponize religion for violence, and a light guiding the faithful toward understanding, compassion, and coexistence.
The task before Nigerian educators, scholars, and parents is therefore not to choose between faith and freedom but to strengthen both. For in doing so, the nation not only protects its children from extremism but also fulfills the very purpose of Islam—to seek knowledge, uphold justice, and serve humanity.
