As School Fees Soar in Addis, Families Choose Between Education, Survival

Jun 29 , 2025. By RUTH BERHANU ( FORTUNE STAFF WRITER )

Late June in Addis Abeba brings its first curtain of rain, a grey veil that slows the minibuses and muffles the usual din of the capital. It is the season when schools close, children tumble into the streets, and families cheer another grade completed.

For Mihiret Yohannes, a mother of three renting a two-room house in the Saris neighbourhood, the rain feels less like a lull and more like a warning bell. Her eldest two, now 17 and 18, make the daily trek to Maria Rubatto School on Bekelech Street (near what is popularly known as Chechenia) in Bole District. The youngest is still in nappies and needs formula, costs which already strains the household budget.

The family survives on a monthly income of 25,000 Br; rent alone claims 10,000 Br. Groceries, transport and baby supplies stretch the pay packet to its limit, while credit from the corner shop fills the gaps. The increase confronting Mihiret is only the sharp edge of a wider problem.

When she joined the parents’ meeting on June 21 and learned that monthly fees would leap from 3,300 Br, on top of a 400 Br tutorial payment, to 6,560 Br, a 65pc jump, she could only stare at the classroom walls.

“It has already been hard to keep up with the economy,” she said afterwards. “My only choice now is to change public schools.”

Contemplating this option would lead her to enrol her children in one of the 85 secondary-level public schools that cater to about 145,000 students. In contrast, Maria Rubatto is one of the 151 private secondary schools that enrol about 79,000 students.

Across Addis Abeba, 1,227 private schools have been told that tuition rises should be between 40pc and 65pc. The city’s Education & Training Quality Regulation Authority (ETQRA) introduced the ceiling after, according to Deputy Head Tagayitu Ababu, more than 90pc of schools requested jumps of 100pc to 263pc, figures she called “unjustifiable.” The Authority’s review panel rates each school every two years, weighing its resources, management and, crucially, performance.

Judged by the results of national exams, student performance has been all but pleasing. In the two academic years beginning in 2022, over 95pc of grade 12 students who took national exams failed to score the minimum passing grade of 50pc, exposing severe deficiencies extending to higher education institutions. Those active in the education sector helplessly observed colleges and universities producing graduates who lack essential literacy and numeracy skills.

Education authorities in the city have placed a three-year framework that ties the cap to scores. Level Four learning institutions, tagged as “Centres of Excellence”, may increase fees the most; Level One schools, judged to be on the brink of closure, are held to the smallest gains. Parents and boards are meant to negotiate first; if they cannot agree, the Authority steps in, and a grievance committee hears any final appeal.

Tegegn Work, father of two, has already tested the mechanism. His children’s school wanted a 45pc rise. Parents had bargained it down to 32pc but were warned that another request could come before the year’s end. One child’s preschool bill of 1,882 Br would climb to about 2,485 Br. The second-grader’s 2,070 Br fee would shift to roughly 2,732 Br.

“We’re all struggling,” Tegegn said. “Us with income, schools with rent.”

The rent, school heads say, is merciless.

Falcon Academy, which operates four branches, employs 300 staff and educates 3,000 pupils, paying half a million Birr monthly for mostly leased compounds, subject to 17pc annual increases every two years. Its Principal, Yazachew Kelkile, remembered applying in 2023 for a 120pc rise, but 100pc was approved. Because increases are authorised every other year, the Academy’s bid for 2025 was rejected.

Prices of chalk, paper, and cleaning chemicals have surged, while salaries have edged up, and Falcon has frozen fees for three straight years.

Yazachew argued that giving schools land would slash costs.

“There should be a regulation that ensures teachers stay for at least a semester,” he added, blaming high staff turnover as a hidden drain. “We give annual raises to retain teachers.”

For now, Falcon bills 2,200 Br for preschool, 2,160 Br for grades one to four, and 2,755 Br for Grade 12. This year’s proposal ranged from 45pc to 60pc. Parents rejected the top end.

Across town, owners and managers of the New Flower Academy, founded 28 years ago, fear closure. Their 1,600 students and 130 staff members occupy three rented sites, which are billed at 1.2 million Br per month. Rent rose 20pc this year, and paper prices have more than doubled.

“Our costs have skyrocketed,” said Hirut Assefa, executive principal. “We're afraid that we'll have to shut down.”

Hirut has trimmed discretionary spending, postponed maintenance, and pleaded with property owners, yet the balance sheet still does not balance.

The core of the issue remains to match educational quality with affordability. For Mihiret and thousands of parents like her, the meeting with her children’s school ended not with a resolution, but with resignation. The future of her children’s education remains uncertain. As she prepares for yet another day worrying about budgeting, the promise of quality education seems to drift ever farther out of reach.

"We just want what is best for our children," she said in a low voice. “But the cost is becoming too much to bear.”

Leta Sera, associate professor of economics at Jimma University, says ideology should bend to affordability. Fee controls squeeze school finances, he admitted, but subsidies or rent relief could soften the blow. He argued that the goal should be to strike a balance between affordability and quality.

"The government can't simply regulate prices and hope for the best," he told Fortune. "It needs to support both public and private schools, or the system risks failing everyone.”

He notes that many parents already stretch every Birr to pay fees, proof of a strong demand for perceived quality. If those doors shut, the public system should absorb not only numbers but rising expectations. One suggestion is for the state to underwrite low-interest loans, allowing private school owners to build instead of rent, thereby smoothing future fee curves.

However, some question whether any ceiling is fair. Others, such as Samuel Woldekidan, deputy managing director of the School of Tomorrow, questioned the Authority's action as an affront to the free market.

“Fee negotiations should occur between schools and parents, not dictated by the authorities,” he told Fortune.

The chain owns five branches and leases six; rental fees have ballooned to 10 million Br a year.

“The fee ceiling does not reflect inflation,” Samuel argued.

He fears a wave of closures, pushing another generation into already crowded public classrooms.

Private schools have expanded impressively over the past two decades, particularly in Addis Abeba. The city has 585,000 students, 46pc of its student population, attending in 74pc of all schools in the city. Kindergartens alone number 935, accounting for 57pc of private schools. Although numerous in Addis Abeba, private schools represent only about five percent of the 40,000 educational institutions across the country, serving a relatively small fraction of the total student population.

Observers warn that the ratio will widen if inflation continues to erode pay packets and if property owners maintain their unbroken run of rent increases.

However, families of students attending private schools are caught in the middle, seeing no easy answer. Near the Alem Bank neighbourhood, in the western outskirts of the city, homemaker Tsehay Lemma pays 2,050 Br monthly for her preschooler and first-grader at Tewlid Primary School. Tsehay’s husband drives a taxi; fuel costs and rainy-season traffic mean income fluctuates. New uniforms feel like a luxury, let alone higher fees.

And, the School seeks a 45pc rise; parents like her are lobbying for 10pc lower.

“It's getting too expensive,” she said. “My only option is public school.”

There are at least 235 public primary schools that educate around 384,000 students, while 554 private primary schools teach approximately 312,000 students.

Many parents are already voting with their feet. Public schools in Addis Abeba took in 98,000 new pupils last year as private tuition drifted out of reach. Mayor Adanech Abebie's Administration has scrambled to keep pace, adding 48 four-story blocks inside existing compounds, building 27 G+2 and 13 G+3 structures, and opening seven preschools, 12 primary and four secondary schools. Artificial football fields, cafeterias, and modern sanitation facilities are being installed, while ICT labs and libraries are also promised.

Wonidmu Hussen, deputy head of the Addis Abeba Education Bureau, disclosed that over 1.9 billion Br has been allocated for expansion.

Nationally, the challenge is even larger still. The Ministry of Education has judged that 85pc of schools across the country are below standard. Its “Education for the Generation” campaign raised 81 billion Br in its first year and 54 billion Br in the second, building 6,815 new schools and upgrading tens of thousands more.

When the new academic year begins in September, parents like Mihiret will probably enrol their children in one of these public campuses. Administrators, officials and academics may yet devise a model that keeps private education afloat. For the moment, Addis Abeba’s classrooms mirror the city’s rainy streets: clouded, congested and waiting for the storm to clear.

PUBLISHED ON Jun 29,2025 [ VOL 26 , NO 1313]