For many years, well-off Nigerians have sent their children to prestigious British boarding schools – but now some of those institutions are setting up campuses in Africa’s most populous nation.

Last year, Charterhouse launched a primary school in the city of Lagos and will open a secondary school this September.

Rugby School will also begin offering secondary education in September. Other well-known institutions, such as Millfield, Wellington School and Harrow, are also exploring opportunities in Nigeria.

This obviously all comes with a price tag for Nigerian parents – but the country’s well-heeled elite have historically sent their children to the UK for secondary education, drawn to the British curriculum’s rigour, prestige and global opportunities.

“I’m actually excited about it,” says Karima Oyede, a British-Nigerian management consultant, whose son is currently in year 10 at Rugby in the UK but will be moving to its Lagos school in September.

Her family has been meaning to relocate to Nigeria for a while but has not done so earlier because of the children’s education.

“Having the opportunity to experience the British system in his country of origin is the best of both worlds,” she says.

Nigeria already has a proliferation of private schools but high-quality, internationally recognised education within the country will appeal to many parents, particularly those who wish to preserve their children’s cultural identity.

“African parents love the fact that they are giving their children international standing so they can compete with their counterparts in any other part of the world, but they don’t want their children to lose their African-ness,” says Ijay Uwakwe-Okoronkwo, the founder of Nkuzhi Learning Foundation in Nigeria’s capital, Abuja.

The educational consultant, who advises parents and schools on international boarding options, explains the more relaxed, less respectful attitude children return with after going to school abroad is not always appreciated.

This cultural dilemma extends to the growing conversation around LGBTQ issues. Same-sex relationships and public displays of affection are illegal in Nigeria and homosexuality is not openly discussed or promoted.

It is something that the new crop of British schools has taken on board. For example, while Charterhouse UK displays a rainbow flag, the Nigeria school does not.

“We’re a British independent school but sitting firmly within Nigerian cultural needs,” says John Todd, head of Charterhouse Nigeria.

“There’s this huge concern about Western cultural views.

“For parents here, we know it’s a really big issue. It’s a reason parents are worried about the UK schools.

“I’m not making a judgement – it’s just the way it is.”

British institutions in Nigeria have no choice but to “follow the law of the land”, he acknowledges, adding: “We are 100% compliant.”

Recognising Nigeria’s deeply religious society, Charterhouse also permits parents to take their children home from the boarding house for Sunday church services, with the expectation that they return by Monday morning.

There are several reasons behind the growing interest of prestigious British schools in opening campuses in Nigeria.

While regions like the Middle East and China are already saturated with international schools, Africa is relatively virgin territory.

“Nigeria is the gateway to Africa, and Africa is kind of the last continent for British schools to establish in,” says Mark Brooks, an export champion for the UK’s Department for Business and Trade.

He organises annual events in Nigeria where about 20 British schools meet prospective students and parents.

“Nigeria has an incredible reputation for producing driven, high-achieving students,” says Mr Brooks.

“There is no school I work with that hasn’t recently had a Nigerian student serve as head boy or deputy head boy. A student may join the sixth form and end up being the head boy within a year.

“I’ve brought hundreds of head teachers to Nigeria over the years, and the word is out in the UK that we need to take Nigeria seriously.”

Timing has also proved key, as the cost of sending children to the UK has soared. Just three years ago, the exchange rate of the local currency was 500 naira to £1; now it stands at 2,200 naira.

On top of that, the Labour government in the UK recently imposed 20% VAT on private school fees.

Beyond tuition, families face additional expenses like flights for both students and visiting parents.

Establishing these schools in Nigeria allows families to maintain the same standard of education while significantly reducing the financial strain.

The annual fees at Charterhouse UK, for example, are around £60,000 ($78,000), whereas the fees at its Lagos campus are equivalent to approximately £15,000.

“Our main classroom teachers are expatriates, but 90% of the staff are local,” says Mr Todd.

By employing local people in roles such as assistant teachers, administration, finance, human resources, marketing, facilities, security, gardeners, drivers, PAs and secretaries, the school can significantly reduce costs compared to the UK, where labour is much more expensive.

A vast education gap already exists in Nigeria, with many parents opting for private education of varying quality. Many struggle to pay the higher fees rather than sending their children to government schools, which are often free but plagued by poorly trained teachers and frequent strikes.

As a result, the arrival of British schools may not drastically change Nigeria’s education system.

However, they could pose a threat to established elite schools like the British International School in Lagos and The Regent School in Abuja, which opened in the early 2000s.

Such schools have long been top choices for those able to pay the annual tuition fees that often reach tens of thousands of dollars.

“Rugby School Nigeria is coming also to support, develop and learn from the schools currently in Nigeria,” says Mr Brooks, who is in charge of the school’s marketing.

“We are coming to help with partnerships as well, teacher training, and a whole range of initiatives.”

Mr Todd believes the Nigerian market is large enough to accommodate all the new schools without threatening existing ones. About 40% of the 200 million population is under 14.

He expects the greatest impact to be felt in the UK.

While Charterhouse UK typically has a long waiting list and should not be affected, less sought-after boarding schools may experience a decline in enrolment owing to the new competition in Nigeria.

“Interest in our secondary school is very strong,” says Mr Todd. “We already have Nigerian parents in the UK sending their children to the Charterhouse in Nigeria for September.”

In fact, reaching out to Nigerians in the UK has been one of their key marketing strategies.

“You get this premier brand at a lower price, and every Nigerian has an aunt or uncle in Lagos” who can be a guardian, he adds.

It could be that this trend extends to British universities. Nigeria’s tertiary education system faces even greater challenges than its secondary sector, with many students opting to study abroad.

In 2023, Nigeria ranked among the top 10 countries for UK student visas, according to UK government data.

But with foreign exchange difficulties and stricter visa regulations, studying abroad is becoming increasingly challenging – and universities that rely on higher international tuition fees appear to be suffering.

Earlier this month, British MP Helen Hayes, chair of the parliamentary Education Committee, acknowledged the UK’s higher education sector was in trouble.

“Dozens of universities are making redundancies and cuts to courses, trying to stay afloat amid uncertainty over where their money is coming from,” she said when announcing a session to consider the sector’s future.

If enough Nigerian students can no longer go to the UK to study, British universities may find it profitable to come to them, as they have elsewhere in the world.

In fact, Nigeria’s premier university, the University of Ibadan, was established in 1948 as a campus of the University of London, with degrees awarded carrying the same value and prestige.

Ms Uwakwe-Okoronkwo believes many Nigerian parents would appreciate this opportunity, as it would allow their children to stay in Nigeria long enough to mature before potentially moving abroad, if they choose to do so.

“Many parents are worried about sending their children out of the nest too early,” she says.

For Ms Oyede, whose daughter will also be starting at Rugby School in Lagos come September, the timing of all this could not be better.

She says the British school opening has already been an “incentive to return home”.

The prospect of university opportunities would be a welcome bonus.

Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani is a freelance Nigerian journalist and novelist based in Abuja and London.