From Classroom to Citizenship: How Education Shapes Political Apathy in Nigeria| Sunkanmi Ajewole

“Telling people they are better off when their education has trained them to be spectators of the system rather than citizens within it is sheer hypocrisy.”

That statement may sound like a reaction to politics, but it reveals something deeper: how people think, what they believe, and how they relate to the system around them. And at its core, that is not just a governance issue. It is an education issue. Because long before citizens disengage from governance, something else has already happened, they have been shaped not to engage in the first place.

In Nigeria today, political apathy is often explained as frustration. People are tired. They do not trust the system. They doubt that their votes count, especially during election cycles where participation is high in conversation but lower at the polling units. All of that is true. But it is not complete. It is not complete because Apathy is not just a reaction. It is also a result. It is what happens when an education system focuses more on producing certificates than producing citizens. When students are trained to pass exams, but not to question systems. When civic responsibility exists in theory, but rarely in practice.

Over time, that gap begins to show. Students learn about democracy in classrooms, but do not see how it connects to their daily lives. They hear about rights, but are rarely guided on responsibility. They memorize the structure of government, yet struggle to explain how a local government decision affects their community or why attending a ward meeting matters. So, governance begins to feel distant, something that belongs to politicians, and not to them. And when people do not see themselves in a system, they do not engage with it. That is where apathy quietly takes root.

As Mustafa Zulkuf Altan notes in Education as a Social System: Present and Future Challenges (2020), education is not just one sector among many; it is the system that shapes every other system. When it works, it produces citizens who can think, question, and participate. When it does not, the effects extend far beyond the classroom.

Nigeria reflects that reality; there is growing political awareness. People follow the news, track fuel price changes, discuss policies on social media, and debate leadership decisions on buses, in salons, and online spaces. Yet when it comes to participation, especially in formal processes like voting or community decision-making, engagement remains inconsistent. Awareness is increasing. Participation is not. That disconnect is not accidental. It reflects a deeper gap between knowing and doing, between understanding a system and feeling capable of influencing it.

John Dewey made this clear in Democracy and Educational Administration (1987), when he argued that democracy does not begin at the ballot box; it begins in the classroom. Schools are meant to develop not just knowledge, but the habits of participation. When that foundation is weak, everything built on it becomes fragile. This is visible even within school environments. Student leadership structures often exist, but many students see them as symbolic rather than functional. Elections for prefects or student leaders may happen, but they rarely translate into real participation, accountability or decision-making experience. So even within the first system they encounter, engagement feels limited.

At the same time, everyday realities make participation even harder. Rising costs of food, transport, and basic living mean that for many Nigerians, survival takes priority. In communities where parents are focused on daily income and students are already thinking about economic uncertainty, governance begins to feel like a distant concern. But even that reality connects back to education. Because a system that prepares people only to survive, without equipping them to shape their environment, limits what they can demand from it.

Education, in its broader sense, is not just about knowledge. It is about capacity, the ability to understand systems, question them, and influence them. Without that capacity, citizens may recognize problems, but feel powerless to address them. And when people feel powerless, they step back. This is where the conversation needs to shift.

Political apathy is not simply about citizens “not caring.” It is about citizens not being fully prepared to engage. Until that changes, the pattern will remain the same. Leaders will make claims. Citizens will react most times online, sometimes passionately, but without consistent structures for engagement, little will fundamentally shift. Because governance is not sustained by policies or promises alone. It is sustained by the relationship between citizens and the system. And that relationship is learned.

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) makes it clear, education is meant to prepare individuals for responsible life in a free society. Not just employment. Not just survival. Responsibility. That responsibility includes participation. So, when we ask why political apathy persists in Nigeria, the answer goes beyond frustration or distrust. It goes back to how citizens are formed, what they are taught, what they are encouraged to do, and what they believe their role is within the system.

Because people do not suddenly become disengaged; They grow into it. From classrooms where civic concepts are memorized but not practiced, to communities where decisions feel distant, to national conversations where voices are loud but influence feels limited, the pattern is consistent.

And unless that pattern is broken, through education that connects knowledge with action, and awareness with responsibility, nothing else will change in a meaningful way.

In the end, the issue is not just that people are stepping back from governance.

It is that they were never fully brought into it.