A 6-cents-a-day school in Nigeria turns students into strivers and problem-solvers
| Kuje, Nigeria
Groups of students, deep in discussion, are huddled under a large schoolyard canopy on a sweltering morning. Flanked by two teachers, Kingsley Bangwell strolls among the students. He stops beside one group and asks, 鈥淲hat problem are you solving?鈥�
Two students rise. Faridat Bakare, a girl with paper in hand, responds. 鈥淥ur work is on the lack of proper business strategy among female-owned small businesses in Kuje,鈥� she says.
She explains that many women in that Nigerian city unintentionally limit the growth of businesses they start by overlooking the four P鈥檚 of marketing: product, price, place, and promotion. The students鈥� solution is to start a mentorship cycle connecting established businesswomen with local budding entrepreneurs.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onA low-cost school gives students from low-income families the opportunity to see themselves differently. There, they can dream of becoming an aeronautical engineer or an actor.
Mr. Bangwell nods his approval and moves on to another group.
Mr. Bangwell is a co-founder of the Knowledge, Solutions, Skills, and Kreativity (Knosk) school in Kuje, on the outskirts of Nigeria鈥檚 capital, Abuja. For 100 naira (6 cents) a day, the school provides six years of learning for students who would otherwise be unable to afford it.
The exercise that Mr. Bangwell is observing is part of a solutions 鈥渉ackathon.鈥� Over four days, students engage with small-
business owners in their communities to identify real-world challenges and develop solutions.
鈥淭he goal is to help them think critically and work collaboratively,鈥� Mr. Bangwell says. Winning teams receive prizes, but the biggest takeaway, he insists, is that the students realize 鈥淭hey, too, can provide answers to questions around them.鈥�
鈥淓veryone wants us to succeed鈥�
In 2018, while she was at a hospital in Abuja, Irene Bangwell overheard a cleaner talking about her teenage daughter, who had dropped out of school to work alongside her. The cleaner explained that she couldn鈥檛 afford the $19-per-term school fees for the girl. She believed that it was better for her daughter to work and save money than to attend an underfunded public school with little promise of quality education.
Mrs. Bangwell, who had spent years working with young people, understood the mother鈥檚 concerns. Although public schools in Nigeria are mostly free, they are chronically underfunded, which has led to crumbling infrastructure, teacher shortages, and frequent strikes. Private schools provide better alternatives, but with nearly 39% of Nigerians living below the poverty line, many families find such schools out of their reach.
Mrs. Bangwell shared the cleaner鈥檚 story with her husband, who has a background in youth development. They started Knosk in September 2019 after reaching out to community leaders, churches, mosques, and public primary schools, asking them to refer students who couldn鈥檛 afford secondary education. 鈥淢y husband and I make a perfect team,鈥� Mrs. Bangwell says. 鈥淲e knew exactly what we wanted to build.鈥�
Parents contribute $4 per term.
鈥淲e cater to the poorest of the poor,鈥� Mrs. Bangwell says. 鈥淚f we don鈥檛 take the child in, they have no other chance at an education.鈥�
The school provides a curriculum that integrates computer and vocational skills, daily lunch, menstrual supplies for female students, and a boarding facility for a few students.
鈥淲hen a child walks through that gate, the only thing we want on their mind is how they can be better than they were when they came in,鈥� Mrs. Bangwell says.
Victoria Simon, one of Knosk鈥檚 pioneer students, was 6 months old when she lost her father. By age 9, she had also lost her mother, leaving her in the care of her older sister. After Victoria completed primary school in 2018, her family had no means to send her for further education.
鈥淲e were ready to give up when my sister heard about Knosk,鈥� Victoria recalls.
The school sounded too good to be true. But two weeks later, Victoria took Knosk鈥檚 entrance exam and wrote a 300-word essay about her aspirations. 鈥淚 wrote about creating a free six-month training program for women and giving them tools to start their businesses,鈥� she says.
Days later, a text message confirmed her admission, and her life changed. 鈥淚n my primary school, making a mistake could get you beaten or suspended,鈥� she says. 鈥淗ere, mistakes mean you鈥檙e learning, and everyone wants us to succeed.鈥�
Now preparing for her senior secondary school exams, Victoria dreams of studying theater arts and becoming an actor. 鈥淚 have learned that I can be anything, and I want to be a star,鈥� she says.
On the wings of 鈥渆ducation angels鈥�
For some families, even the small fees that KNOSK charges are a struggle. And according to Mrs. Bangwell, those fees are not enough to sustain the school. 鈥淏etween paying teachers, uniforms, feeding the kids, and providing learning materials, we need more support,鈥� she says. Yet no child is ever turned away for unpaid fees.
The school, which started with 30 students and now has 170, relies heavily on what it calls 鈥渆ducation angels.鈥� These are individuals and organizations that sponsor students, for $156 per year.
Knosk鈥檚 impact hasn鈥檛 gone unnoticed. 鈥淭he quality of teaching and learning there is comparable to any private school in this area,鈥� says Daudu Shedrach, an education inspector with the Federal Capital Development Authority.
Mr. Shedrach sees Knosk as a crucial intervention in Nigeria鈥檚 education crisis. According to UNICEF, an estimated 18.3 million Nigerian children don鈥檛 attend school. 鈥淲ithout this school, these children would be lost,鈥� Mr. Shedrach says. 鈥淣ow they are gaining the knowledge to break free from poverty and take control of their lives.鈥�
鈥淚 want to make it鈥�
At Knosk, every student is called 鈥渟olver,鈥� a title that reflects expectations. 鈥淎 solver sees problems and takes action,鈥� Mrs. Bangwell explains. 鈥淲e build their capacity to see beyond their challenges and to think like contributors to society, not victims.鈥�
For solvers like Mustapha Ibrahim, who joined Knosk in 2019 after losing his father two years earlier, the title has become a compass for how he approaches life. 鈥淭here is no problem that I cannot solve,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 just have to think hard about it.鈥�
Mustapha recalls how he once struggled with self-doubt and anger, believing that his life had ended when his father died. 鈥淏ut when I came here and they started calling me 鈥榮olver,鈥� it was like they were telling me I could be more,鈥� he says.
Today, Mustapha dreams of becoming an aeronautical engineer. 鈥淚鈥檓 always fascinated by how airplanes stay in the sky despite their weight,鈥� he says.
He also hopes to give back to the school that changed his life.
鈥淚 want to make it,鈥� he says, 鈥渁nd then come back to help other kids like me. Because I honestly don鈥檛 know who I would have become without this place.鈥�
