In the northern regions of Nigeria, the word “Almajiri” is far more than just a label, it represents a centuries-old system, a way of life, and, for millions of children, a path paved with uncertainty. Originally rooted in Islamic tradition, the Almajiri education system was designed as a noble initiative to offer young boys religious instruction. But in the face of rapid urbanisation, a broken national education structure, and chronic socio-economic disparity, the system has morphed into one of the country’s most glaring humanitarian crises. Today, what was once a respected educational framework has become a breeding ground for poverty, neglect, and vulnerability, raising critical questions about Nigeria’s commitment to inclusive education.
The Almajiri system dates back to pre-colonial times, when Islamic scholars (Malams) provided Quranic education to children in a tightly knit community setting. Families would send their sons, typically between the ages of five and twelve to live and study under the guidance of a Mallam, often in a different town or city. The education was not only religious but also spiritual and moral, with strong communal support structures ensuring that the children’s basic needs were met. It was a system that worked in the context of its time: a self-reliant, agrarian society where Islamic scholarship was central to social cohesion and leadership.
But today’s Nigeria is a vastly different landscape. The once-supportive communal model has eroded under the weight of urban migration, systemic poverty, and weak governance. In most cases, the Almajiri children now find themselves roaming city streets, begging for alms to survive. Their education is often sporadic, unregulated, and limited to rote memorisation of religious texts with little or no access to literacy, numeracy, or vocational training. According to UNICEF, over 10 million children in Nigeria are out of school, and a significant portion of them are Almajiri children, some estimates suggest they make up more than 60% of all out-of-school children in the country.
This breakdown in the system is not merely a religious or regional issue—it is a national emergency with far-reaching consequences. These children, excluded from formal education and denied a holistic learning experience, become trapped in a cycle of poverty and social exclusion. The implications are devastating. Many end up as victims of abuse, child labour, or exploitation, while others are recruited into criminal activities or violent extremist groups. This is not only a violation of their rights but a direct threat to national security and development.
Government intervention in the Almajiri education system has been inconsistent and often poorly implemented. Former President Goodluck Jonathan’s administration made a bold attempt to integrate the Almajiri system with formal education by establishing Almajiri Model Schools across several northern states. The idea was to provide a dual curriculum that combined Quranic education with basic literacy, numeracy, and life skills. However, these efforts were largely short-lived, plagued by poor planning, corruption, inadequate teacher training, and lack of community ownership. Many of the schools today are either underutilised or abandoned, and the children they were meant to serve are still on the streets.
Part of the problem lies in the absence of a clear national policy that recognises the complexity of the Almajiri phenomenon. Attempts to reform the system are often driven by political expediency rather than a genuine commitment to educational equity. There is also a lack of coordination between federal, state, and local governments, each of which passes the responsibility to the other. Religious and traditional leaders, whose buy-in is essential, are often excluded from policy dialogues or mistrust government intentions. This disconnect perpetuates a system where children are treated as an afterthought rather than a priority.
Yet, despite the bleak picture, the potential for transformation still exists. What is urgently needed is a comprehensive approach that respects cultural and religious values while guaranteeing the right of every child to quality education. Integrating Quranic education with modern curricula should not be viewed as a dilution of faith, but as an enrichment of it. There are models from countries like Morocco, Indonesia, and Sudan, where Islamic education has been successfully merged with national education systems without compromising religious integrity. Nigeria can and must learn from these examples.
To do this, government must first acknowledge the Almajiri system as a formal component of the broader education sector. This includes proper teacher training, curriculum development, and quality assurance mechanisms. Community engagement is also vital. Religious leaders, parents, and local stakeholders should be actively involved in designing and running integrated learning centres. Funding must be consistent and transparent, with accountability frameworks to prevent the misuse of resources. Importantly, social protection systems must be in place to ensure these children are fed, sheltered, and safe.
Moreover, it is essential to frame the Almajiri issue as a child rights issue, not merely an educational one. Nigeria is a signatory to several international conventions, including the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child and the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child. These documents obligate the country to ensure that every child receives not just education, but an education that prepares them for life in a modern society. The current state of the Almajiri system is a betrayal of that obligation.
Public perception also needs to shift. Too often, Almajiri children are stigmatised, seen as dirty, unruly, or lesser than their peers in formal schools. This perception only deepens their exclusion. Media, civil society, and influencers have a role to play in changing this narrative. The children are not the problem, the system that fails them is. And as a society, we are all complicit if we continue to look the other way.
The Almajiri crisis is not beyond redemption. But the time for token responses and symbolic gestures is over. What is required is political will, cultural sensitivity, and sustained investment in inclusive education. Only then can we begin to dismantle the barriers that keep millions of children on the fringes of society.
In a country as diverse and complex as Nigeria, education must not be a privilege for the few, it must be a right for all. The Almajiri child on the street, barefoot and hungry, deserves the same chance at life as the child in a private school classroom in Lagos or Abuja. Anything less is a failure not just of policy, but of conscience.
