Education is not a privilege; it is a fundamental human right.
This is the bedrock of the United Nations (UN) Sustainable Development Goal Four (SDG 4), which commits the global community to "ensure inclusive and equitable quality education and promote lifelong learning opportunities for all."
For Ghana, a nation with a rich tapestry of faiths and a historical foundation in mission education, achieving this goal requires navigating a complex and often contentious crossroads: the intersection of individual religious rights and the established ethics of mission schools.
This principle anchors the UN SDG 4, which pledges to "ensure inclusive and equitable quality education and promote lifelong learning opportunities for all."
For Ghana, a land steeped in diverse beliefs and a historical foundation in mission-based schooling, realising this aim necessitates negotiating a difficult and often disputed junction: the clash between personal spiritual freedoms and the established standards of missionary organisations.
The principle is straightforward: every child has the right to freedom of religion and belief. However, this right isn’t absolute.
It operates alongside the prerogative of schools to uphold their unique identity, as well as the shared entitlement of all pupils to learn in an environment of mutual respect and peace.
Persistent disputes in educational spaces suggest that we have mistaken the assertion of rights for the erosion of responsibility.
Having a right doesn’t empower one to disregard a community’s core principles; instead, it necessitates a dialogue built on respect to achieve a common understanding.
Lessons from our recent past
Ghana has witnessed several moments that illustrate this delicate balance:
The hijab debate in Christian schools: Discussions regarding the Islamic head covering (hijab) in mission schools run by Christian denominations have been a significant point of contention.
Although the Ghana Education Service (GES) has issued directives to standardise uniforms, the core of the matter remains unresolved.
For numerous Muslim students and patients, the hijab represents an unwavering article of faith.
Conversely, mission schools view their identity — reflected in emblems, dress codes, and communal worship — as inseparable from their educational philosophy, a heritage they deem worthy of safeguarding.
Tensions flare when one party’s rights feel like an endangerment to the other’s existence.
Religious observances and gatherings: Cases have emerged where students of differing faiths from a school’s founding denomination resist mandatory involvement in specific religious services or prayers.
This juxtaposes the school’s regulations, designed to cultivate unified spiritual life, against the students’ right to observe their own belief system. Calls for exemption options question the essence of what defines a "mission school."
Rastafarian pupil and dreadlocks: Though rarer, equally stirring are scenarios where Rastafarian students confront penalties for retaining their dreadlocks, which they hold as sacred religious convictions.
Such situations clash with school codes on grooming, frequently justified as upholding order and standardisation.
Here, a deeply personal religious expression conflicts with a school’s ethical and disciplinary code.
These are not minor administrative disagreements; they are indicators of a bigger societal issue.
Are our mission schools old-fashioned holdovers in a multicultural world, or are they important contributors to educational diversity?
In contrast, does asserting one's religious identity in these areas indicate a lack of tolerance, or is it a genuine claim for inclusion?
Beyond conflict, towards understanding
The solution does not lie in a scenario where one party must surrender entirely.
Compelling a Christian mission school to abandon all its symbols is as much a violation of its rights as forcing a Muslim student to renounce a fundamental belief.
Achieving inclusive schooling demands a proactive strategy, grounded in UNESCO’s ideals of discourse and cross-cultural appreciation.
We must move from a paradigm of confrontation to one of conversation.
Faith-based institutions: It’s worth revisiting the intentions of their founding fathers, frequently centred on service and ethical development.
Can this ethos be expressed in a manner faithful to its roots yet open to other faiths?
This might entail revising policies to establish common areas where faith practices are supported but not imposed, and where school uniforms can accommodate religious signs without compromising their overall identity.
Parents and students: Choosing a mission school indicates an embrace of its cultural background.
Confrontation should be avoided in favour of engagement and discourse.
Respecting the school's traditions does not imply forsaking one's own faith but rather living it in a way that values the community to which one has voluntarily joined.
Authorities and policy makers: The government’s task is mediation.
Bodies like the GES and Ministry of Education should facilitate nationwide discussions uniting clergy, advocacy groups, and education experts.
The aim should be to develop guidelines safeguarding both individual religious expression and institutional identity, provided they do not discriminate in their admissions or treatment of students.
SDG 4's ultimate goal is to build equitable, peaceful, and inclusive societies, instead of focusing only on literacy and numeracy.
Schools that demonstrate — through daily practice — how to honour profound differences offer an education fit for modern times.
Ghana’s faith-based academies could exemplify this globally: Proving varied liberties needn’t spark conflict, but can instead, if interlaced with mutual regard, forge a more resilient societal tapestry where all students find their place.
The writer is an Educatrion Programme Officer,
Ghana Commissionfor UNESCO
email: kofi.kwakye@unescoghana.gov.gh
