School or Owanbe: Concerns over college-like graduation for toddlers, pupils

By : Iyabo Lawal

Date: 10 December 2025 8:40am WAT

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In a battle for the very soul of Nigerian education, a growing craze for extravagant, university-style graduation ceremonies for toddlers and young pupils has reached a fever pitch. Now, a shockwave is rippling through the private school system as five state governments declare war on the trend, issuing sweeping bans and forcing a national showdown between profit-driven showmanship and the core values of education, IYABO LAWAL reports.

In the vibrant, sun-drenched halls of a private primary school in Lagos, a small child, no older than five, stood on a podium. Adorned in a miniature black gown and a comically oversized mortarboard, the child clutched a scroll as a proud parent snapped away frenziedly. This is not a scene from a university campus, but rather a kindergarten graduation ceremony—a spectacle that has become a fixture on the itineraries of many private schools.

What was once a simple, school-level celebration has evolved into an elaborate, and often expensive, affair, complete with professional photographers, catered parties, and designer outfits.

The trend, once a novelty, has spiralled into a commercial phenomenon, placing significant financial and social pressure on parents.

While proponents view it as a celebration of a child’s first academic milestone, a growing number of critics, including state governments, consider it an unnecessary extravagance that distracts from the core purpose of education.

The debate has escalated to the point where at least five Nigerian states, including Oyo, Ekiti, Imo, Delta, and Anambra, have formally banned or heavily regulated these events, sparking a nationwide conversation about misplaced priorities and the true cost of education.

The tradition of celebrating academic milestones is deeply rooted in Nigerian culture, but the current craze for early-childhood graduation ceremonies represents a significant departure from tradition.

For decades, the end of primary school was marked by a simple prize-giving day or a valedictory service. The pageantry of graduation was reserved for the highest echelons of academia, universities, and polytechnics, where it symbolised the end of a rigorous journey and a transition to professional life.

However, over the past decade, particularly in the private education sector, this tradition has undergone recalibration. Fuelled by a desire for global emulation and fierce competition among schools to attract parents, the end-of-year ceremony has undergone significant evolution.

The rise of these ceremonies reflects broader cultural shifts. In many communities, graduation parties have become opportunities for families to showcase social status. Parents and relatives often wear coordinated “aso-ebi” outfits, hire disc jockeys (DJs), and host banquets.

Social media amplifies the spectacle, with photos and videos of toddlers in gowns going viral.

This escalation has given rise to a miniature “graduation industrial complex,” with a thriving ecosystem of vendors providing everything from custom-made gowns and caps to event planners specialising in children’s parties.

The costs, often hidden and unitemised in school fee breakdowns, can be staggering. A report by a parenting blog in Lagos estimated that a single kindergarten graduation ceremony could cost a family anywhere from N50,000 to over N400,000, depending on the school’s location and the level of pomp involved.

Globally, graduation ceremonies for early childhood education are not unique to Nigeria. In the United States, “kindergarten graduations” are common but typically modest, often held in classrooms with simple certificates and light refreshments.

In Japan, preschool graduation ceremonies are formal, yet restrained, restating discipline and cultural values over extravagance.

Experts agreed that this pressure is a significant concern. Dr Chidinma Okafor, a clinical psychologist in Abuja, said: “While celebrating milestones is healthy, the scale of these ceremonies can be counterproductive. It places an unnecessary financial burden on families and, more importantly, sends the wrong message to children. The focus shifts from the achievement itself, the learning, the growth, to the spectacle and the material rewards. We are teaching our children to associate success with pageantry, not with hard work and character.”

The National Orientation Agency (NOA) has publicly supported the bans, linking them to a broader campaign to curb “sign-out excesses” in schools and promote value reorientation.

Its Director-General, Lanre Issa-Onilu, described the Imo State ban as a “bold step” and cautioned that “early exposure to extravagant celebrations distorts values crucial for personal and national development.”

The widespread parental frustration and growing public debate have not gone unnoticed by state governments. Recognising the financial strain and the perceived deviation from educational focus, at least five state governments have taken decisive action.

In July 2025, the Oyo State Commissioner for Education, Science, and Technology, Dr Olusegun Aderemi, announced a formal ban on all graduation ceremonies for primary school pupils and kindergartens in public schools.

The directive, which was later extended to private schools in the state, stated that such ceremonies were “not only a financial burden on parents, but also a distraction from the core academic objectives of our educational system.”

The ban in Oyo State was quickly followed by similar pronouncements in Ekiti, Imo, Delta, and Anambra. Each state cited similar reasons: the exorbitant costs, the distraction, and the need to reset priorities in the education sector.

A memo from the Ministry of Education in Imo State, for example, highlighted the need to “return to the fundamentals of learning and discourage a culture of wasteful spending and unmerited showmanship at such an early age.”

The move by these states has been met with a mixed but largely positive reception. Many parents have lauded the government for “hearing their cries.”

“It’s a huge relief,” said Uche Nwosu, a mother in Owerri, Imo State. “I can now focus on paying for my daughter’s next school year without worrying about a huge extra fee for a party.”

However, not everyone is in favour of the ban. Some school proprietors and event organisers argued that the government’s action is an overreach and infringes on their right to organise and celebrate milestones with their students.

“We are a private institution,” said Tunde Oladele, the owner of a private school in Ekiti. “We provide a service that parents willingly pay for. The graduation ceremony is a part of our brand, a way to celebrate our pupils’ success. The government should not be dictating our extracurricular activities.”

This viewpoint, however, is often overshadowed by the larger economic and social arguments.

The debate over graduation ceremonies for young children goes far beyond the financial burden on parents. It addresses profound issues of modern parenting, social status, and the very concept of achievement. Sociologists and child development experts are concerned about the long-term psychological impact on children.

“At this age, children are still developing their sense of self and their understanding of achievement,” explained Dr Nkechi Anyaoha, a senior lecturer in child development at Nnamdi Azikwe University (NAU), Awka.

“When success is tied to a lavish public ceremony, it can create a sense of entitlement and a focus on external validation rather than the intrinsic joy of learning. What happens to the child whose parents cannot afford the ceremony? They may feel a sense of inadequacy or shame, which is profoundly damaging at such a tender age.”

The ban also highlights the competitive nature of Nigeria’s private education market. Schools often use these elaborate ceremonies as a marketing tool, a visual promise of a “premium” experience to prospective parents.

In a market where fees are often the only differentiator, an expensive, well-documented graduation ceremony becomes a potent symbol of quality, even if it has little to do with the quality of education delivered inside the classroom.

According to a recent report by a Lagos-based education consultancy firm, private primary schools and kindergartens are increasingly relying on such non-academic differentiators to attract clients in a saturated market.

The ban, therefore, not only relieves parents but also forces schools to compete on the actual quality of their curriculum, teaching staff, and learning outcomes, rather than on the grandeur of their parties.

The economic fallout of the ban is also a factor. The small-scale businesses that cater to these events, photographers, bakers, and decorators, are now facing a slump. A professional photographer in Owerri noted that the clampdown on extravagant graduation ceremonies has led to a lull in his business.

“Now, almost all our school-related bookings have been cancelled. It’s affecting our livelihood,” said the photographer.

This highlights the complex web of relationships and dependencies that have formed around the trend.

While the state-imposed bans are a bold move, they are not a complete solution. The core issue remains how to celebrate a child’s academic milestones without resorting to extravagance. The answer, according to education reformers, lies in collaboration and a return to simpler, more meaningful celebrations.

One proposal gaining traction is to replace the lavish graduation ceremonies with more inclusive, school-wide events. This could include a simple “moving up” day where pupils are recognised for their progress, a collective talent show, or a day of games and activities. The focus would be on celebrating a communal journey rather than an individual spectacle.

“We need to reemphasise that the reward is the learning itself,” said Olakunle Olatunde, an education policy analyst. “A child should be proud of what he or she has learned, not the gown worn, or the number of pictures taken. By simplifying these ceremonies, we can teach our children that true achievement is an internal metric, not a public spectacle.”

As the debate rages on, the onus is on school administrators to innovate and find a middle ground that respects the need for celebration, while aligning with the economic realities of most Nigerian families.

Parents, too, have a role to play in resisting the pressure to compete and in advocating for a saner, more sustainable approach to education.

The bans in the five states serve as a powerful signal that the tide may be turning. It is a wake-up call for the education sector to prioritise substance over style, and ensure that education remains accessible, meaningful, and focused on building a solid foundation for the future, not on hosting a fleeting and costly party.

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