They made the engineers.
They taught the doctors.
They even gave the presidents their first ABC.
And now, they line up for handouts just to survive.
This is the story of how we broke our teachers and with them, our future
They built and taught us to identify alphabets before we could spell our names.
They taught us numbers before we could count our fingers.
They made the engineers who built our bridges, the doctors who saved our mothers, the lawyers who defended our names, and the presidents who now pretend not to know them.
And how did we repay them?
We mocked their torn shoes. We laughed at their broken belts. We delayed their salaries until their children were sent home from school. We let them die on hospital beds because they couldn’t afford the same healthcare they taught future doctors to provide.
Now, we step over them in bus parks as they sell second-hand shirts to survive. We pass them on the roadside as they ride Okada for tips. We greet them with “Good morning, Sir” but pay them in humiliation.
This is the story of how we broke our teachers and with them, our future.
A hungry teacher writes the death sentence of a nation’s dreams.
Once upon a time, a teacher’s word could make a child stand taller. A teacher’s praise could set a life on fire. They were the guardians of our future, the keepers of knowledge, the ones who turned raw potential into greatness.
Today? They bend low not to write on the chalkboard but to hold out a hand, begging to survive.
We stripped them of dignity.
We mocked their faded shirts and worn shoes.
We laughed at their “old-fashioned” ways, forgetting they were the reason we could read and write at all.
When the chalk breaks, the nation bleeds.
At every PTA meeting, we argued like market women over whether to pay them well. We celebrated the low tuition fees that starved their salaries. We wanted Harvard results on an empty-stomach budget.
We expected them to teach with passion while their own children went hungry.
Now, the best minds avoid the classroom like a plague. They run to tech, trade, Nollywood, and even TikTok but not teaching.
And who can blame them?
Our children now sit before teachers who never wanted to be there, people whose dream was never to teach but who landed there as a last resort. Some of our brightest educators now double as Okada riders. Some hawk second-hand clothes after school hours. Some can’t afford the very school fees schools collect from parents for them to teach.
We see them trekking long distances, clutching lesson notes in nylon bags and we pretend not to notice. We scroll past them on the roadside, too busy to care.
In Nigeria today, some teachers earn as little as ₦20,000 a month barely enough for transport and food for a family of four.
According to UNESCO, Nigeria needs over 250,000 new teachers to meet basic education standards but fewer young people are choosing the profession.
A 2024 report by the National Bureau of Statistics showed inflation at over 33%, meaning teacher salaries have less value than ever before.
The day a teacher begs for bread is the day a country begs for a future.
The same teachers who once shaped our paths now sleep hungry. But still, we demand miracles in our education system.
A hungry teacher writes the death sentence of a nation’s dreams.
By neglecting them, we built a generation that laughs at books.
By underpaying them, we raised youths who can’t spell respect.
By humiliating them, we buried the pride of a noble profession.
You cannot humiliate the source of light and still complain about darkness.
A blackboard without respect for the teacher is just a wall.
Now we are shocked when our graduates can’t write a simple application letter. We complain about the rot in our schools, forgetting that rot begins when the gardener is starved.
You can’t starve the gardener and expect a harvest.
A nation that cannot protect its teachers is a nation that has signed its own death warrant.
If you think education is expensive, wait until ignorance sends you the bill.
We can’t keep asking for Harvard results on a roadside budget.
Until we restore the honour of teachers, the classroom will remain a graveyard of dreams. And when the classroom dies, the nation follows.
It is time to rise.
If you are a parent, speak up stop seeing teachers as cheap labour.
If you are in power, act, education is not an expense, it is the only investment that guarantees tomorrow.
And if you are a teacher reading this don’t lose hope. Your worth is beyond measure.
Without teachers, even kings would be illiterate.
We have one choice, pay the teacher now or pay the price forever.
Pay them, honour them, protect them or watch your children inherit a nation they cannot read. The choice is yours.
#SupportTeachers #FixEducation #PayTeachersWell
Stephanie Shaakaa
08034861434
