By Daniel Nduka Okonkwo
A classroom cannot educate a child. A school building cannot teach a lesson. The location of a school, the facilities it possesses, the fees paid, or even the financial resources available to a family cannot, by themselves, impart knowledge, shape character, or prepare a child for the future. Behind every educated person is someone who devoted time, knowledge, patience, and commitment to making that education possible. That person is the teacher. And perhaps most remarkable are the teachers who, despite inadequate pay, difficult working conditions, and the pressures of everyday life, refuse to be discouraged. They continue to show up, teach, encourage, and give their best because they understand that the children entrusted to them represent somebody’s future and, ultimately, the future of society. The system must therefore do more than celebrate teachers with words; it must protect, respect, and adequately reward those who play one of the greatest roles in building the people who will take the nation forward. Happy Teachers’ Day to the wonderful educators who continue to give their best, even when the system does not always give them its best.
There is something deeply painful about the condition of teachers in Nigeria. These are the men and women we entrust with our children’s minds, character, and future. They are expected to prepare the next generation to compete in an increasingly sophisticated global economy, navigate technology and artificial intelligence, understand citizenship, and build the skills Nigeria will need to survive the future. Yet many of the people carrying this enormous responsibility are themselves struggling to survive the present.
Nigeria celebrates teachers in speeches, ceremonies, and commemorative messages, and today, World Teachers’ Day, the tributes will flow again. But beyond the applause, many teachers confront a harsher reality. Their wages have been eroded by inflation, their promotions and allowances are delayed, their classrooms are inadequate and overcrowded, and the temptation to abandon the profession grows. Union leaders have repeatedly complained that teachers are among the most celebrated in speeches but among the most neglected in welfare.
This is not merely a teacher’s welfare problem. It is an economic problem, an education problem, and, ultimately, a national development problem. A country that neglects the people responsible for educating its citizens is not simply failing its teachers. It is weakening the foundation upon which its future workforce, institutions, and economy will depend.
We routinely describe roads, bridges, electricity, and telecommunications as critical infrastructure because the economy cannot function effectively without them. But teachers are human infrastructure. They produce the doctors, engineers, lawyers, journalists, scientists, accountants, entrepreneurs, civil servants, and leaders who operate every other part of the economy. There is no functional healthcare system without the educators who train medical professionals, and no stable economy without the teachers and lecturers who develop the people who sustain it.
A nation cannot build a first-class economy on second-class investment in the people who educate its citizens. That is the uncomfortable contradiction Nigeria must confront. We are demanding a 21st-century education system from teachers whose working conditions in many places remain painfully far removed from the realities of the 21st century.
We want teachers to prepare children for an artificial-intelligence-driven economy, while some schools still struggle with electricity, textbooks, adequate classrooms, and basic teaching materials. We expect educators to prepare young Nigerians for a highly competitive global labour market, while many teachers themselves are battling rising transportation costs, food prices, housing expenses, and other basic living costs.
The pay tells its own story. Reports from teachers, union representatives, and education stakeholders indicate that remuneration remains a serious problem in parts of the country, particularly where state-level implementation of wage increases has lagged. For many teachers, rising transportation and food costs can consume a substantial portion of their monthly income, leaving little room for rent, healthcare, family responsibilities, or the education of their own children.
To cope with these economic pressures, some full-time educators have turned to petty trading, private home tutoring, and other side businesses to supplement their income. The concern is not that teachers should not have legitimate additional sources of income, but that survival pressures can leave less time and energy for the profession to which they have committed themselves. A teacher who spends the evening struggling to make ends meet may arrive in the classroom the next morning carrying burdens that cannot simply be left at the school gate.
Then there is the problem of irregular pay and delayed entitlements. In some parts of Nigeria, teachers have faced delays in salaries, promotion benefits, leave allowances, and other entitlements. In the private-school sector, teachers can also be vulnerable when proprietors delay salaries because of cash-flow problems or parents’ inability to pay school fees. For those approaching retirement, pension and gratuity concerns can add another layer of anxiety to a career already marked by financial uncertainty.
The national minimum wage of ₦70,000 was intended to provide greater protection for low-income workers, but its implementation across Nigeria has not been uniform. States have adopted different approaches to implementing the new wage structure, and the experience of teachers varies from one jurisdiction to another. The existence of a national wage framework, therefore, does not automatically mean that every teacher enjoys the same level of protection or purchasing power.
The classroom itself is often part of the problem. Many public schools operate in buildings that require significant rehabilitation and lack adequate learning materials, reliable electricity, water, ventilation, furniture, and other basic facilities. Overcrowding can further increase the burden on teachers, making individual attention difficult and turning what should be an environment for learning into a daily struggle to manage large numbers of pupils.
In parts of northern Nigeria and other areas affected by insecurity, teaching can also involve serious risks to personal safety. Schools and communities have been affected by attacks, banditry, insurgency, and kidnappings, resulting in school closures and profound trauma for pupils, teachers, and families. Teachers who continue to report for duty in such environments are doing more than delivering lessons. They are helping keep an essential institution of society alive under extraordinarily difficult circumstances.
Behind these problems is a wider question of educational financing. International education benchmarks, including UNESCO-related commitments, have consistently encouraged governments to devote substantial public resources to education. Yet Nigeria’s education spending has remained a subject of concern among education advocates, particularly when measured against the country’s enormous infrastructure, teacher recruitment, training, and learning needs. The issue is therefore not simply how much money appears in an education budget, but whether the resources allocated are sufficient, effectively spent, and translated into better conditions for teachers and learners.
The consequences are increasingly visible in the movement of talent. Experienced teachers are leaving classrooms for better opportunities in other sectors, moving into private institutions, or seeking opportunities abroad. The phenomenon popularly described as “Japa” is therefore not only about doctors, nurses, and other professionals. Where qualified educators leave the country or abandon teaching, Nigeria loses the experience that took years to build.
The problem is compounded when schools struggle to replace experienced teachers with equally qualified professionals. Staffing shortages can increase workloads for those who remain and may encourage institutions to rely on less experienced or inadequately trained personnel. The result can be a weakening of professional standards at precisely the time Nigeria needs a stronger and more technologically prepared teaching workforce.
Nigeria is not alone in facing pressure on its teachers. Around the world, educators are confronting burnout, administrative workloads, changing student behaviour, technological disruption, and the challenges created by generative artificial intelligence. Countries such as the United Kingdom and the United States have also experienced serious concerns about teacher recruitment, retention, and early departure from the profession. But the difference matters. While many teachers globally are struggling with the pressures of modern education systems, many Nigerian teachers are still fighting for basic conditions that should already exist.
The implications extend far beyond the education sector. When teachers are exhausted, financially insecure, or driven out of the profession, the cost does not stop with them. It is eventually transferred to the child in the classroom, who may receive less individual attention, weaker learning support, and fewer opportunities to develop the skills required for the future.
It also becomes an economic problem. A generation that passes through school without acquiring strong literacy, numeracy, critical thinking, and problem-solving skills will enter the workforce with limitations that can affect productivity and national competitiveness. Seen from this perspective, teacher welfare is not merely a welfare programme. It is an investment in the human capital upon which every other sector of the economy depends.
Nigeria must therefore stop viewing teachers primarily through the language of expenditure and begin viewing them through the language of national investment. Building schools without adequately supporting the people who teach inside them is like constructing hospitals without properly training and retaining medical professionals. The physical structure may exist, but the institution cannot deliver its full purpose.
The question Nigeria should therefore be asking is not simply how much teachers cost the government. The more important question is how much Nigeria will ultimately pay if it continues to neglect the people responsible for educating its future. Those we entrust with educating our children should not have to choose between preparing the next generation for the future and finding a way to survive the present.
Nigeria cannot continue to celebrate teachers on World Teachers’ Day while neglecting their welfare for the remaining 364 days. If the country genuinely wants an educated, productive, and globally competitive population, it must treat the people who produce that population as an investment, not an expense. A classroom is only a building, a curriculum is only words on paper, and a computer is only a machine. It is the teacher who turns them into education. And a nation that neglects its teachers is ultimately neglecting the future it claims to be building.
Daniel Nduka Okonkwo is an investigative journalist, human rights advocate, and policy analyst based in Nigeria. He is the founder and publisher of Profiles International Human Rights Advocate (PIHRA), a platform documenting the courage of human rights defenders and examining issues of governance, accountability, security, and fundamental rights.
His reporting on Nigerian governance, security-sector accountability, public finance, and human rights has appeared in Sahara Reporters, Vanguard, Daily Trust, African Defence Forum, Opinion Nigeria, and Daily Intel.
Read more of his work on the PIHRA website:
https://www.profilesinternationalhumanrightsadvocate.com.ng/
For tips, feedback, or collaboration, contact him at dan.okonkwo.73@gmail.com.
