Benin, Edo – In a move that reeks of bureaucratic bravado and utter disregard for reality, the Edo State Government has rolled out its so-called "skill education directive," forcing junior secondary school students into mandatory entrepreneurship training without providing so much as a hammer, a workbench, or even a basic classroom upgrade to make it feasible.

Announced last month amid fanfare about equipping the youth with "practical skills" under Governor Monday Okpebholo's SHINE agenda, this policy demands that all JSS 3 students complete a compulsory four-week entrepreneurship program before sitting for their Basic Education Certificate Examination (BECE).

At the end, they are promised a shiny Skills Acquisition Certificate alongside their academic one—provided, of course, the training does not collapse under the weight of its own impracticality.

But let's cut through the glossy press releases: this is nothing short of educational malpractice.

The directive mandates hands-on training in trades like tailoring, welding, or basic business setup, yet a survey of public and private schools across Benin City and rural Edo reveals a grim truth—no dedicated facilities exist for any of it.

Classrooms are overcrowded relics from the last century, with leaking roofs and desks that double as firewood. Workshops? Forget it; most schools lack even functional science labs, let alone spaces equipped for vocational skills.

Teachers, already stretched thin by underfunding and low pay, are expected to magically transform into entrepreneurship gurus overnight. How exactly is a history teacher supposed to teach leatherworking without tools, materials, or a budget? The government's response? Crickets.

No funding allocations announced, no partnerships with local industries, just a top-down edict that screams incompetence.

Private school owners, bearing the brunt of this ill-conceived policy, are in open revolt. At a recent town hall organized by the Coalition of Association of Private Schools (CAPS), proprietors lambasted the administration for imposing the training without a shred of support.

"The government has to sit down and come out with the workability of the project," one exasperated owner fumed, highlighting the absurdity of transitioning from formal academics to skills-based learning via mere directive.

With excessive taxes already forcing at least 10 schools to the auction block, this latest burden could shutter more, leaving students high and dry.

Even public schools, meant to lead by example, are woefully unprepared—Edo's education budget has long prioritized political gimmicks over infrastructure, resulting in facilities that could not train a goldfish, let alone a teenager for the job market.

Governor Okpebholo's team touts this as a "transformation drive" to make Edo children "hands-on" and competitive.

What a joke. In a state plagued by youth unemployment and economic stagnation, forcing entrepreneurship on kids without resources isn't empowerment—it's a cruel setup for failure. Students will either fake their way through sham sessions or drop out altogether, certificates in hand but skills nowhere to be found.

This policy is not innovative; it is irresponsible, a hollow gesture from leaders more interested in headlines than actual progress.

Edo's parents and educators deserve better than this farce. The government must immediately suspend the mandate, invest in real infrastructure, and engage stakeholders before turning ambition into another educational disaster.

Until then, this directive stands as a testament to governance gone awry: all talk, no tools.