Boarding Schools or Not?

People tend to speak of their boarding school experience in one of two ways: either as a story of loss (what they left behind when they moved away)or as a narrative of gain, centred on relationships formed. It is difficult to ignore the socio-economic factors running beneath these perspectives. I believe most parents do not send their children to boarding school out of spite, but rather because they see it as a necessary step in their child’s development. Their aim, as they see it, is to nurture independence, encourage ownership of one’s life, and provide a controlled glimpse of the world beyond home.

But does it achieve this? Let me be clear: I am inherently sceptical of boarding schools. Much like life itself, the boarding school experience is a matter of chance. You may escape severe bullying; you may forge lifelong friendships. Yet it would be naïve to assume 90% of your peers shared that same rose-tinted outcome.

The class dimension is undeniable. Whether in Ibadan or London, boarding schools function as levers of social mobility. The name of your school can unlock doors, even if you emerged with shaky mastery of GCSE, WAEC, or NECO material. Yet there is a paradox here: these institutions withdraw parental influence precisely when adolescents need it most. They could deepen the rift between parent and child, a rift already widened by capitalism’s relentless pace and our collective failure to nurture secure attachments. For some, however, boarding school is salvation: a child trapped in a toxic home gains physical distance from their primary source of trauma.

Is the experience entirely negative? Of course not. Structure can instil discipline; positive peer pressure might spark ambition. Discovering an identity separate from one’s parents lays the groundwork for adulthood. But let us remember that boarding schools do not repair fragile parent-child relationships. At best, they reveal whether those bonds were sturdy to begin with. A child with secure attachment may thrive; others risk further alienation.

I suspect that neurodivergent children are disproportionately failed by the boarding school system. Take my own experience: undiagnosed and struggling, I struggled with crippling headaches triggered by black text on white pages. My Physics (Nelkon) and Further maths textbooks became unreadable; I resorted to scrawling notes in multiple colours to make sense of the page. Also, learning through lectures was as productive as emptying and ocean with a sieve. Yet no one noticed, why would they?

So what, ultimately, do boarding schools offer? They offer the illusion of community in an age where genuine connection is scarce. Families and neighbours orbit the same spaces but rarely interact meaningfully. Boarding schools, with their enforced proximity, mimic solidarity. It’s better than nothing but it’s like an eternal winter without Christmas.