Let me state from the outset that this intervention is a critique and a call for legal clarification on the status of International School, Ibadan (ISI). It is not questioning the wisdom of the Court of Appeal on its judgement on the hijab controversy raging in the school.
The Court of Appeal’s decision standing down the High Court judgement allowing Muslim girls to wear the hijab at the International School, Ibadan (ISI), has rekindled a fundamental question that extends beyond dress codes. Can an institution established by a public university legitimately be regarded as a private school for the purpose of limiting constitutional rights?
The Court of Appeal reportedly reasoned that ISI is a private school and that parents and students who voluntarily accepted its code of conduct are bound by its provisions, including restrictions on the wearing of the hijab. While contractual obligations deserve respect, the more profound constitutional question remains unanswered.
The University of Ibadan is not a private enterprise. It is Nigeria’s premier public university, created by law, owned by the Federal Government and sustained with public resources. International School, Ibadan, was established by that university in 1963 as an extension of its educational mission. It was not founded by private investors or a religious body, but by a public institution acting in the public interest.
If a public university establishes a school, appoints its governing authorities, determines its policies and exercises ultimate oversight, on what legal or moral basis does that school become “private”? Does charging tuition automatically convert a public institution into a private one? If so, would fee-paying public universities themselves become private institutions? Clearly not! These questions deserve careful public interrogation.
The implications go beyond the hijab debate. They touch the broader issue of whether public institutions can avoid constitutional responsibilities simply by adopting the label “private.” If institutions created, owned and controlled by the state can insulate themselves from constitutional scrutiny by relying on contractual undertakings signed by students or parents, then the protection of fundamental rights becomes vulnerable to administrative policies.
This is not to suggest that schools should be denied the authority to maintain discipline or prescribe uniforms. Uniformity is an important component of school administration. However, where those rules intersect with constitutionally guaranteed freedoms, especially freedom of religion, the law should seek a careful balance rather than assume that contractual consent extinguishes constitutional protection.
The central issue is therefore not whether ISI may regulate its students. It is whether a school founded and controlled by a public university should enjoy the legal privileges of a private institution while simultaneously benefiting from the public character and authority of its parent institution.
Perhaps the debate should now shift from the courtroom to the legislature and the wider public. The legal status of institutions established by public universities deserves greater clarity. Nigerians should not have to speculate whether such schools are public when it comes to their obligations, but private when constitutional rights are asserted.
The hijab controversy may eventually be resolved one way or another. Yet the larger constitutional question will remain. When does an institution created by the public cease to be public?
