Our Work on PLANE: What Jigawa’s Unregistered Non-State Schools Reveal

Our Work on PLANE: What Jigawa’s Unregistered Non-State Schools Reveal

Our Work on PLANE: What Jigawa’s Unregistered Non-State Schools Reveal

In Jigawa State, many children are being taught in schools that sit outside the formal system yet play a very real role in everyday education. They are unregistered, often under-resourced, and in many cases barely visible in official planning. Still, they are there in large numbers, serving families who need somewhere close, affordable, and familiar to send their children.

That is what makes this baseline assessment of unregistered non-state schools in Jigawa so important. It gives shape and detail to a part of the education landscape that is often discussed in general terms but rarely understood in its full reality. Conducted under the PLANE programme and led by The Education Partnership Centre, the study helps us see these schools more clearly, not as an afterthought, but as an active part of how education is being delivered.

What comes through in the findings is a picture of determination under pressure. These schools are trying to meet need with limited means. Many operate on very small budgets. Many have weak infrastructure. Many have little or no contact with the state. Yet they continue to absorb demand and provide some form of schooling in places where the formal system has not fully reached or responded.

A large sector hiding in plain sight

The survey covered 319 unregistered non-state schools across seven local government areas in Jigawa. Even that number only captures part of the wider picture. The broader school population suggests that unregistered provision is not marginal. It is extensive.

These schools are also far from uniform. Some are owned by single private proprietors. Some are linked to religious foundations. Some are community-based. Some operate as faith-based schools, while others are private but non-faith-based. There are also schools that sit in a more mixed category, managed outside the state while still connected to public education structures in some way.

This diversity matters. It reminds us that non-state education is not one neat category. It includes different motivations, funding models, histories, and relationships with government. Any serious effort to engage this sector has to begin there.

The data also shows that most of these schools are operating without the support of formal networks. About two-thirds of proprietors said they do not belong to any association. That kind of isolation has consequences. It means fewer channels for advocacy, fewer routes to information, and fewer opportunities to organise around common needs.

Most schools want recognition, but recognition is hard to reach

One of the clearest messages in the report is that most unregistered schools are not avoiding approval because they reject it. In fact, the opposite seems to be true.

Nearly 80 percent of the sampled schools were yet to be approved. Another 20 percent were already in the process. Among those still unapproved, over 93 percent said they wanted their schools to be approved.

That matters because it shifts the conversation. It suggests that the problem is not simple resistance to regulation. For many schools, the issue is that the route to approval is difficult, expensive, unclear, or discouraging.

The biggest challenge reported was the burden of state registration protocols. Other major constraints included lack of adequate facilities, the difficulty of securing CAC documentation, the attitude of inspectorate and quality assurance staff, and problems getting consent letters from host communities.

Some proprietors who said they were not ready for approval gave reasons that point to mistrust as well as capacity gaps. A few feared government takeover. Others said they were just starting out, lacked the facilities required, or saw themselves primarily as religious schools.

All of this points to a basic truth. If the state wants more schools to come into the formal system, the process has to feel possible. It also has to feel worthwhile.

Affordable schooling, built on very fragile foundations

The report leaves little doubt that these schools are serving lower-income communities.

A large proportion charge less than ₦10,000 a year. Many charge no fees at all. In pre-nursery, 43.3 percent charged under ₦10,000 annually, while 48 percent charged no fees. In nursery, 57.7 percent charged no fees. In primary, 40.8 percent were tuition-free, while another 48 percent charged less than ₦10,000.

These are not elite private schools. They are low-cost providers trying to keep access open for families with very little room to pay.

But the cost of that affordability shows up elsewhere, especially in staffing. In 72.7 percent of the schools, teachers reportedly received no salary at the end of the month.

That is one of the most striking findings in the report. It tells us these schools are often running on unpaid labour, informal arrangements, religious service, or unstable compensation. Even where teachers were paid, the amounts were generally low.

This has serious implications for quality. A school system cannot rely on unpaid or underpaid teachers and still expect consistency, strong instruction, or long-term stability. These schools may be filling an access gap, but they are doing so under financial conditions that are deeply precarious.

Enrolment is high, and the gender picture is interesting

The schools in the survey are serving large numbers of children. Across the sample, there were 18,950 children enrolled in pre-nursery and nursery, and 64,857 in primary school.

That is not a minor footprint. These schools are clearly part of the education reality in Jigawa.

The enrolment data also shows something worth paying attention to. Across the seven LGAs, the gender parity index was 1.3 in pre-primary and 1.7 in primary, indicating enrolment in favour of girls.

That finding complicates some familiar assumptions. It does not cancel out the wider challenges girls face in education, but it does suggest that within this particular set of schools, girls are enrolling in strong numbers. That raises important questions. Are these schools seen as more accessible or acceptable for girls? Are boys moving through other pathways? Are household decisions shaping enrolment differently across school types and locations?

The report does not answer all of that, but it does give us reason to look more closely.

Teachers are present, but many are not adequately qualified

The teacher data shows another side of the pressure these schools are under. Only 39.2 percent of teachers were reported to have the necessary teaching qualifications. The workforce was also heavily male, with far more male teachers than female teachers across the sample.

The overall teacher-pupil ratio for the state stood at 1:37, which appears manageable at first glance. But that overall figure hides local variation. In Dutse and Taura, the ratios were above the national benchmark of 1:40.

Even more importantly, ratios alone do not tell the whole story. A school may have enough adults in the classroom to meet a benchmark on paper, but if many are unpaid, underqualified, or lacking support, that does not automatically translate into strong teaching and learning.

School systems are weak because the conditions are weak

One of the strongest themes running through the report is the absence of basic systems that help schools function well.

Only around half of schools had an enrolment or admission register. Just over half had a class daily attendance register. Many other core records, including asset registers, health records, transfer books, disciplinary books, staff movement registers, and annual leave rosters, were present in fewer than 10 percent of schools.

Governance structures were also limited. Just over half of the schools had a PTA or parents’ forum. Fewer than half had School-Based Management Committees. Only 22.6 percent had a School Development Plan.

These gaps are not minor administrative details. They shape whether a school can plan, document, follow up, and improve. Without records, there is little institutional memory. Without committees, accountability is weaker. Without development plans, schools remain stuck in day-to-day survival.

The graded assessment reflects this. According to the report, 40.8 percent of schools were classed as Emerging, 38.2 percent as Establishing, and 21 percent as Enhancing. None were operating at a level that suggested consistently strong systems across the board.

That is not surprising when viewed alongside the wider findings. Weak management often reflects weak conditions.

Infrastructure is one of the sharpest signs of inequality

The infrastructure findings are hard to ignore.

Only 21.6 percent of schools had access to safe water. The pupil-to-toilet ratio stood at 343 to 1. Most toilet facilities were pit latrines. Only 12.9 percent of schools had any health facilities. Just 16.9 percent had a source of power supply. Only 20.7 percent had school fencing. Just 7.5 percent had a playground. Only 4.7 percent had a security guard.

Classroom conditions were also severe. The overall pupil-classroom ratio for pre-nursery, nursery and primary was 131 to 1.

That figure alone tells a story. It means overcrowding is not occasional. It is normal. And when classrooms are this crowded, every other problem becomes harder to manage. Teaching becomes more difficult. Supervision becomes weaker. Noise rises. Movement is restricted. Children get less attention. Learning suffers.

These are not background issues. They are part of the daily school experience for children and teachers alike.

Inclusion is still limited

The report found that 21.6 percent of schools had some form of provision for children with disabilities. These included ramps, wheelchairs, hearing aids, braille materials, and a few other supports.

It is encouraging that some schools are making an effort. But the bigger picture is still one of limited inclusion. Most schools do not yet have the infrastructure, tools, or systems needed to support children with disabilities in a meaningful way.

This is one area where targeted support could make a real difference. Inclusion does not happen through policy language alone. It needs practical investment.

Many schools are never inspected at all

Perhaps one of the most telling findings in the report is how little routine oversight these schools receive.

More than 60 percent of sampled schools said they had never been visited by inspection authorities. Only 39.8 percent had been inspected by both the LGEA and state inspectorate units.

That tells us something important. These schools are outside the formal system in more than name. In many cases, they are operating with almost no regular contact from the structures meant to support or regulate quality.

That has consequences for everyone. Schools miss out on guidance. Government misses out on information. Children miss out on the protections that come from minimum standards being monitored.

What this means for policy and practice

The Jigawa baseline does not present a simple picture. These schools are clearly under strain. Many are operating without approval, without stable funding, without strong infrastructure, and without adequate administrative systems. At the same time, they are educating large numbers of children and responding to demand that the formal system has not fully absorbed.

That means they cannot be ignored, and they cannot be approached only as a compliance problem.

What is needed is a more practical relationship between the state and non-state providers. Registration pathways need to be simpler and more realistic. Oversight needs to be more regular and more supportive. Schools need help with record keeping, management, inclusion, and infrastructure. Teachers need access to training. Associations need to be strengthened. And where schools are clearly serving poor and underserved communities, policy needs to reflect that reality.

If the goal is a more inclusive and effective education system, then these schools have to be part of the conversation in a serious way.

Why this matters for our work on PLANE

For TEP Centre, this kind of research matters because it brings education realities into focus at the level where they are actually lived. It helps move discussion away from assumptions and toward evidence. It gives policymakers, partners, and practitioners something firmer to work with.