No girl’s education should be lost to menstruation

On August 15, 2025, a quiet revolution took place in Abuja. At a National Validation Meeting on Menstrual Health and Hygiene Management (MHHM), Nigeria adopted its first-ever national policy on menstrual health—a roadmap that will run from 2025 to 2030. It was a moment that carried both symbolism and substance. At the forefront was Hajiya […]

No girl’s education should be lost to menstruation
No girl’s education should be lost to menstruation

On August 15, 2025, a quiet revolution took place in Abuja. At a National Validation Meeting on Menstrual Health and Hygiene Management (MHHM), Nigeria adopted its first-ever national policy on menstrual health—a roadmap that will run from 2025 to 2030.

It was a moment that carried both symbolism and substance. At the forefront was Hajiya Imaan Sulaiman-Ibrahim, the Minister of Women Affairs and Social Development, who made it clear that this was not about token gestures.

With conviction, she declared: “By 2030, no girl in Nigeria should have to choose between managing her menstruation and pursuing her education.” The policy was further strengthened by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s decision under the new Tax Reform Act to remove tax on sanitary towels—a practical move aimed at reducing costs for girls and women, particularly in rural areas and among displaced families.

But the truth is simple: this policy might never have seen daylight without a woman leading the charge. Because how does one fully fight for what one has never experienced? This is why women must sit at the decision-making table. Representation is not symbolic—it is necessary.

It brings into focus realities that are often ignored or dismissed when left solely in men’s hands. I know this from my own experience. At Glisten International Academy, my secondary school, we held weekly gender assemblies where nothing about puberty or menstruation was shrouded in secrecy.

We asked questions, we received honest answers, and we were taught to embrace womanhood with dignity rather than shame. In hindsight, perhaps this openness was no accident. The school was founded and led by a woman, and so our realities as girls were not trivialised.

That was leadership at work. This must not remain the privilege of a few institutions. Every Nigerian school should integrate menstrual health education into its curriculum—not just for girls, but for boys as well. Boys who understand grow into men who support.

Fathers must learn to listen, mothers must normalize conversations at home, and together parents can dismantle the stigma from its roots. Civil society has played its part. NGOs such as WaterAid Nigeria and Population Services International have worked tirelessly—donating supplies, piloting reusable pad programs, and educating communities.

Yet, the cost of pads still places them out of reach for countless girls. Making pads free for schoolgirls nationwide would eliminate one of the silent barriers that push many out of classrooms each month. But NGOs cannot carry this burden forever.

Sustainability demands government leadership: investment in local pad production, subsidies for menstrual products, integration of menstrual health into public health programmes, and proper monitoring. Policies must move beyond paper; they must translate into facilities, resources, and lived realities.

The newly adopted MHHM policy is comprehensive—covering education, health, water, sanitation, and gender. But its success depends on implementation. That means free or subsidised products in schools and public institutions, mandatory water and sanitation facilities in every learning space, and support for eco-friendly local production.

It also requires a multi-sector task force to confront cultural stigma and ensure that no community, no internally displaced girl, is left behind. This policy is a victory, but it also raises deeper questions. How do we sustain this momentum?

How do we guarantee that women continue to occupy the seats of influence where such issues are prioritised? And how do we extend menstrual equity beyond the walls of Abuja into every home, school, and community across Nigeria?

Menstruation should never be a reason for missed education or lost opportunity. This policy matters because it frames menstrual health as a human right, not a privilege. But rights require protection, resources, and vigilance.

If women’s presence made this policy possible, then women’s continued leadership will keep it alive. Because when women lead, policies do not just change laws—they change lives.

 

Fatimah Yusuf Usman can be reached [email protected]