The night they came, Cecilia Colman was preparing to rest for the night. Then a teacher at Government Christian Secondary School (GCSS) Shuwa in Madagali, Adamawa State, northeastern Nigeria, she lived in the staff quarters.
The crack of gunfire broke the quiet night. Boko Haram had arrived.
Cecilia dropped everything and fled into the dark with many others. In the chaos that followed, the school principal and several teachers were killed. Homes and staff quarters were destroyed.
“They kept coming,” she recalled. “We lost loved ones.”
The year was 2014, and Boko Haram’s violent insurgency, rooted in its ideology against Western education, was reaching various levels of devastation. Schools became targets. Children were abducted. Classrooms were turned to ashes. The attack on the Chibok girls would become infamous, but it was only one of many. Thousands of schools shut down, leaving hundreds of thousands of children without learning, or hope.
GCSS Shuwa was among those shuttered. Cecilia fled to Yola, the Adamawa State capital, and did not return to Shuwa even after the situation calmed down in 2016.
Four years later, she resumed teaching, this time at GSS Michika, a few towns away, but with its scars.
Michika’s own scars
Michika had also fallen. In 2014, Boko Haram swept through the town, torching schools and sending residents fleeing. The military retook it a year later, but the damage was done.
“Many students and teachers died,” said Lawan Halilu, principal of the junior section at GSS Michika. “Some are still missing. Our infrastructure was destroyed.”
Hamza Aminu, an Islamic Studies teacher at Cecilia’s new school, stayed away until 2016. Veronica John, another teacher, also returned, despite losing family members. Today, she is one of the few who continue to teach on the very soil where she once ran for her life.
“We’re doing our best,” she said. “Parents enrol children here from private schools. We’re standing stronger than many schools in northern Adamawa.”
Cecilia says she finds solace in Michika, but the memories of the day the gunfire echoed have not faded. “The fear lingers,” she said.
Children with scars, and dreams
At GSS Michika, the schoolyard hums with the sounds of resilience. Students in mismatched uniforms kick footballs across dusty fields, their laughter occasionally pierced by the silence of memory—of things lost, of people mourned.
Fifteen-year-old Friday Benjamin is one of them. Each morning, he walks 35 minutes from his village, Sangere, to reach school. He was only five when Boko Haram killed his grandfather and maimed his uncle, a trauma that still shapes his dreams.
“I want to be a police officer,” he said, head bent over his notes. For him, it’s more than a career; it’s a way to protect his community from the violence that tore through his childhood.
Sixteen-year-old Deborah Terry carries her burden. Her home was burnt down during the insurgency. Her father has since rebuilt what little he could.
“We live in fear, but I won’t stop schooling,” she said.
Their courage reflects a broader truth: within GSS Michika’s walls, children aren’t just surviving—they are daring to dream, despite the weight of what they have endured.
A tale of two halves
In 2022, the Adamawa State government approved ₦2.297 billion to renovate ten secondary schools, including GSS Michika, according to the state’s Ministry of Finance and Budget. Renovations at GSS Michika took place between 2022 and 2023, focusing on the senior section, where the science laboratories were upgraded, the dining hall was refurbished, and the administrative block was renovated.
But the junior section remains visibly neglected.
Classrooms are overcrowded. During one of the classes, we saw four students squeeze onto a bench. Some of Deborah’s classmates sit on the floor during exams. Instructional materials are scarce, and the poor-quality chalk has taken a toll on teachers’ eyesight.
“I need medicated glasses now,” Cecilia said. “Even the markers don’t last.”
The school once had a functioning lab with 50 computers. All were looted during the Boko Haram attacks. “Our students can’t prepare for UTME without practice,” she added.
Bare toilets, crumbling quarters
Sanitation is another crisis. With only three pit toilets serving over 800 students and no separate facilities for staff, many resort to open defecation.
“Let the government build us proper toilets,” Lawan pleaded.
The staff quarters also remain in a deplorable state.
Lawan, while noting the government’s efforts to improve part of the school’s infrastructure, appealed for the inclusion of staff quarters in future school renovations.
“If you see where we live, it’s bad. In the rainy season, we hardly sleep at night due to fear of collapse, as the infrastructure is bad. We are living in terrible conditions,” he added.
Boarding facilities for junior students at the school have also been scrapped due to budget constraints. Many now crowd into senior hostels or live with relatives, often far from school.
Although the Adamawa State Commissioner for Education, Garba Umar Pella, could not be reached for comment, a source in the ministry’s finance unit confirmed that assessments for further repairs are underway, in partnership with development agencies.
“The process of estimating the costs for the required repairs is currently in progress,” the source said.
Cecilia hopes that the boarding facilities for junior students will be restored.
“It’s not ideal for JSS1 students to live off-campus,” she added. “They’re too young.”
“We are still here”
Despite everything, the trauma, poor infrastructure, and lingering threats, GSS Michika endures. And every day, despite it all, the teachers teach, and the students show up.
“We are still here. I believe education is above everything,” Veronica added.
Located just 470 metres from a military base, GSS Michika feels marginally safer than other parts of Adamawa, which is still under threat, according to Lawan. He believes the proximity to soldiers discourages further attacks.
Lawan noted that everyone in the school is helping each other despite the difficulties: “We are supporting our students who have also been through so much.”
This report is a collaboration between Social Voices and HumAngle under the 2024 HumAngle North East Accountability Project and was first published by HumAngle.