By Isaac Olufemi Ojo
Temitayo Aluko, 13, a Junior Secondary School student at IMG Grammar School, Ibadan, dreads the sound of the school bell when her period starts. With no functional toilets in the school, her only option is to hide in the bush behind the classrooms, praying her uniform does not stain and that she avoids the snakes said to live there.
Her classmate, Bimbo Owoade, explains how the girls protect one another when periods come unexpectedly. “We shield her with our bags, fetch water from the well, and help her clean up. Then we wait until her uniform dries,” she says.
The problem cuts across schools in Oyo State. At Oke Bola Comprehensive High School, six toilets exist, but five are locked and the only usable one is filthy. Alumni efforts have provided water systems and new toilet projects, but students still lack access. At St. Luke’s Grammar School, Molete, a federal intervention built modern toilets in 2024, but with more than 3,000 students, facilities are inadequate. In rural Kajola Local Government, there are no toilets at all. “Our 300 female students use the bush,” says one of the teachers of Ilua Community Grammar School.
Teachers often step in to fill the gap. At IMG, a counselor buys pads from her salary to support girls in emergencies. “We’ve seen girls use rags, tissue, even nothing at all. During exams, one came without protection. Teachers had to pool money to buy her pads,” she says. Another teacher, adds, “Even staff don’t have toilets. If we suffer, imagine the girls.”
The rising cost of pads worsens the crisis. Once ₦350 in 2020, a good pack now sells for about ₦1,500, almost the price of a basic meal. For families struggling with inflation, pads have become a luxury, forcing girls to improvise with cotton wool, wrappers, or newspapers—options that often cause infections.
Health workers see the damage. Nurse Adeyoyin Elizabeth-Abimbola, who treats reproductive health cases, says: “We see infections from tissue paper breaking down inside, or reused damp cloths. Later, these women struggle with infertility, never realizing it began when they were schoolgirls.”
In Ibadan’s Agbeni Ogunpa market, sellers confirm that many now settle for cheaper, poor-quality products. “Some even ask for half a pack,” says pad vendor Toyin Oladapo.
The consequences extend far beyond hygiene. Oyo State already struggles with high numbers of out-of-school children—estimated at 360,000. Teachers say absenteeism among girls spikes during menstruation, with some never returning to class. At St. Luke’s Grammar School, a teacher, admits absenteeism is rising. “We cannot even give them drugs when they are sick. We tell them to stay home. Many do not come back on time,” she says.
Governor Seyi Makinde has increased Oyo’s education budget significantly since 2019, from 3 percent to 21.44 percent in 2025, surpassing UNESCO’s standard. Yet, despite these investments, no budget line addresses menstrual health directly. “If we can budget for family planning, we can budget for sanitary pads,” argues Nurse Abimbola.
Some NGOs are stepping in. Girls Count Initiative has plans for a “pad bank” in selected schools but faces funding challenges. At Saint Louis Grammar School, an innovative project called Pet4Pad allows students to exchange plastic bottles for pads while also learning to make reusable ones. Since its launch in 2023, more than 320 girls have benefitted.
Advocates say the issue must be treated as a rights violation. “Girls are skipping school not because they’re lazy, but because they can’t afford pads and have no toilets,” says menstrual health advocate Mrs. Igboruemuse Lovet.
The State Commissioner for Health, Dr. Oluwaserimi Adetunmobi, admits the problem is widespread and says the government is working on coordinated responses involving the ministries of education, environment, and health. But no concrete menstrual health policy is yet in place. Attempts to reach the new Commissioner for Education, Hon. Olusegun Olayiwola, were unsuccessful.
For girls like Temitayo, each month remains the same: fear, secrecy, and improvisation. They deserve toilets, clean water, and sanitary pads, not shame and bushy hideouts.
Period poverty is not only a health issue. It is an education issue. It is an equality issue. It is a future issue. Until Oyo State breaks the silence with concrete action, schoolgirls will continue to lose days of learning and dignity, one period at a time.
■This report was produced with support from Education as a Vaccine (EVA), a member of the Malala Fund Joint Action Group (JAG), as part of efforts to promote transparency and accountability in Oyo State’s education sector.
