Eduplana’s Babatunde Adegbite Uses Data, Design to Fix Nigeria’s Broken Education System

In a country where discussions about education often dissolve into despair, one civic-tech nonprofit is turning frustration into action—armed with data, design, and a growing network of young changemakers. At the center of this movement is Babatunde Adegbite, co-founder of Eduplana, an organization proving that transparency and technology can breathe life into Nigeria’s ailing schools.

While millions of Nigerian children sit in crumbling classrooms and teachers conduct lessons under trees, Eduplana is cutting through bureaucratic inertia with infographics, digital dashboards, and grassroots investigations. Their work doesn’t just expose failures—it forces accountability.

“For us, it’s not just about data; it’s about making that data visible, understandable, and actionable,” Adegbite explains. “People deserve to know what’s happening in their children’s schools.”

The idea for Eduplana emerged from a shared frustration. Government education reports existed, but they were buried in dense PDFs, packed with technical jargon, or simply inaccessible to ordinary citizens. Adegbite and his team saw an opportunity: repackaging public data into striking, shareable visuals that could travel across social media, newspapers, and community spaces.

One of their earliest projects exposed the shocking state of public schools in rural Nasarawa State—classrooms without roofs, desks, or even toilets. Eduplana’s fact-backed infographics ignited national outrage and, in some cases, spurred government action. But perhaps more powerful than the data itself is who’s behind it.

The organization has become an incubator for young Nigerians passionate about justice and technology. Adegbite, a tech professional by day, has personally mentored over 20 young people, training them in data analysis, investigative journalism, and advocacy. These mentees now serve as Eduplana’s eyes and ears in underserved communities like Toto, Karu, and Wamba, where they document school conditions and amplify local voices.

Some have gone on to launch their own initiatives, expanding Eduplana’s model to new states. “What we’re building isn’t just an organization—it’s a network,” Adegbite says.

Their “What Happened to Our Schools?” campaign recently went viral after infographics revealed abandoned school projects. The visuals, paired with verified budget data, made neglect impossible to ignore—leading to a local senator being publicly questioned about missing funds.

Unlike lengthy government reports, Eduplana’s graphics meet Nigerians where they are: on WhatsApp threads, Twitter feeds, and Instagram stories. “We’re using design as a form of protest,” Adegbite says. “When someone sees ₦20 million allocated for school repairs—with nothing to show for it—it sticks.”

Behind every graphic, however, lies rigorous work: freedom-of-information requests, interviews with principals, and hours spent cleaning messy datasets. It’s unglamorous labor, but for this mostly volunteer team, the stakes are too high to stay silent.

In a nation where tech talent often chases profits in fintech, Eduplana stands apart—leveraging technology not for wealth, but for systemic change. Adegbite stresses that Nigeria’s education crisis isn’t just about crumbling infrastructure, but a lack of information.

“People can’t fix what they don’t understand,” he says. “If parents don’t know their local government received funds for classrooms, how can they demand action?”

To bridge the gap, Eduplana has built tools allowing citizens to track education budgets, compare school performance, and even submit real-time reports from their phones. They’re also testing a community-driven school mapping platform, where parents can upload geotagged photos of dilapidated classrooms—creating an undeniable record for authorities.

While Eduplana doesn’t claim to have all the answers, it offers something just as vital: clarity in a sector drowning in neglect. And beyond data dashboards and viral campaigns, its most enduring impact may be the young Nigerians it empowers.

“My proudest moments aren’t when a campaign trends,” Adegbite reflects. “They’re when a mentee publishes their first investigation or leads a town hall meeting. That’s how real change happens.”

With limited funding but boundless determination, Eduplana is proving that in a nation hungry for hope, tools and tenacity can rewrite the future.