In the heart of Ghana’s Savannah Ecological Zone, Shea and Dawadawa trees have long symbolised economic resilience and cultural identity. But in Ogegerige, a rural community in the Kpandai District of the Northern Region, these trees have taken on a new and somber role; as classrooms for about 200 primary school children.
What once offered shade to farmers and livelihoods to women now serves as makeshift learning spaces, following the collapse of the community’s only school structure during a storm in March this year. The structure is yet to be rebuilt.
A local emergency
Across Ghana, over 5,400 basic schools still operate under trees or in dilapidated buildings. The problem is most severe in the northern part of the country—including the Northern, Savannah, North East, Upper East, and Upper West Regions—where an estimated 80 per cent of such schools are located. The result is a widening gap in educational access, quality, and outcomes.
For the children of Ogegerige, this crisis means sitting on bare ground, exposed to harsh weather, and learning without desks, textbooks, or adequately trained teachers.
As the world embraces digital literacy and artificial intelligence, these children remain at the mercy of sun, rain, and an education system that has overlooked them.
A school built by hope
In 2012, residents of Ogegerige took their children’s future into their own hands. Without any government assistance, they constructed two wooden sheds to serve as classrooms, launching the school with just 38 pupils. Over the years, enrolment rose to more than 200—a testament to the community’s belief in education.
But that dream came crashing down when a storm destroyed one of the sheds and badly damaged the other. Since then, no support has arrived from the authorities. Today, classes are held under Shea and Dawadawa trees.
“When it rains, we go home”
Cynthia Makunda, a Class Six pupil, shared her frustration with Graphic Online: “We go through a lot. Whenever it rains or even when clouds gather, we have to go home. Some days, we don’t come to school at all. It’s disappointing and affecting our academic performance.”
Pupils now sit on stones or mats. There are no blackboards, no desks, and no shelter. Teachers struggle to teach in open-air conditions, often combining classes just to manage.
“You come prepared with a lesson plan, but you can’t teach properly under these conditions,” said Mr Limantol Daniel, Assistant Headteacher. “It’s demoralising—for both the pupils and us teachers.”
Trees that feed and now teach
The Shea and Dawadawa trees are vital to the northern economy. Women earn income by processing shea nuts into butter, while Dawadawa seeds are used to make a local seasoning. These trees are not only culturally significant but also climate-resilient and essential to biodiversity.
Now, they carry the burden of a broken education system.
“We never imagined these trees would become classrooms,” said Bilidoni Kumah, PTA Chairman. “We built the school with our own hands, hoping for support. But since the storm, we’ve been left on our own.”
To address the situation, the school’s PTA and staff have formally written to the Kpandai Ghana Education Service (GES) Directorate, requesting the school’s absorption into the public system and the assignment of a management unit.
Falling through the cracks of SDG 4
Despite Ghana’s commitment to Sustainable Development Goal 4 (SDG 4), which calls for inclusive and equitable quality education for all, communities like Ogegerige are being left behind.
The school is yet to be absorbed by the government, meaning it lacks certified teachers, capitation grants, textbooks, and other essential resources.
This is not unique to Ogegerige. Across the Northern Region, many rural schools face the same issues—crumbling infrastructure, teacher shortages, and a lack of funding. Yet, education remains the surest path out of poverty for these communities.
Government response: A step, not a solution
The District Chief Executive (DCE) for Kpandai, Haruna Abdul Karim, acknowledges the problem. He described the reliance on trees for classrooms as a major barrier to quality education.
“Education is a right, and no child or community should be deprived of it,” he stated. “We will work with the District Education Directorate to identify such schools and assess their needs. With our limited Internally Generated Funds (IGF), we’ll begin addressing some of these challenges while lobbying the Ministry of Education for further support.”
While the commitment is commendable, such pledges fall short for communities like Ogegerige, where every rainy day is another missed opportunity to learn.
A cry for urgent help
Teachers, parents, and pupils are now calling on the Ghana Education Service, the Kpandai District Assembly, NGOs, and philanthropists for urgent intervention.
Their request is simple: a modest school block—with walls, desks, and a roof.
These children deserve the chance to dream beyond the shadows of trees. But without swift support, they risk extinguishing that dream.
A call to action
Education should not depend on weather conditions. The children of Ogegerige—and thousands like them—deserve better. As their voices echo beneath Shea and Dawadawa trees, Ghana must confront a difficult question:
How much longer can we leave our rural children out in the open?
