Across Nigeria, private schools have increasingly become the preferred choice for many parents seeking better educational outcomes for their children. Promising quality education, modern facilities, and structured learning, these schools attract high enrollment and command hefty tuition fees.
But behind the polished image of these institutions lies a troubling reality—teachers, the backbone of any educational system, are poorly paid, overworked, and often exploited.
In both major cities like Lagos, Ibadan, and Port Harcourt, and in smaller towns and rural areas, private schools are booming. Some operate from sleek buildings, while others use modest facilities. Yet the common denominator is this: the people educating the next generation are living in economic hardship.
The Disconnect Between School Income and Teacher Wages
Despite the lucrative fees charged by many private schools, most teachers receive salaries that barely cover their living expenses. The minimum wage in Nigeria currently stands at ₦70,000, but many private school teachers don’t even earn that.
With little to no government oversight of private education, proprietors have been allowed to run schools like profit-driven businesses, often ignoring labour laws and ethical standards. Teachers are left without pensions, medical benefits, or job security, all while working long hours under intense pressure.
This disparity raises a crucial question: Where is all the money going?
“We Earn Peanuts While They Cash Out” — Teachers Speak Out
To better understand the struggles of private school teachers, our reporter spoke with three educators working in different regions across the country. Their stories are heart-wrenching but reflective of a wider national problem.
Patricia’s Story: Passion Without Pay
Patricia, 28, is a graduate of English from the University of Lagos. She teaches at a private secondary school in Iyana Ipaja, Lagos, and earns ₦35,000 a month.
“I love teaching. It’s what I studied, and I want to help students grow,” she says. “But with what I’m paid, I can barely feed myself. After transport and food, I’m left with almost nothing. I’ve been stuck in the same salary for over two years.”
Patricia reveals that her school charges between ₦60,000 and ₦120,000 per student, per term. With over 100 students enrolled, the revenue should run into millions. Yet, there’s no financial transparency—and certainly no trickle-down to the teaching staff.
“When I asked for a raise, they told me there’s no money,” she says bitterly. “But they just bought new projectors for every classroom. Clearly, the money exists—but not for us.”
Omolade: “We Are Teachers, Nannies, and Cleaners”
Omolade, a mother of one in Port Harcourt, earns ₦40,000 monthly working in a private primary school in Okrika. Her duties go far beyond teaching.
“I clean classrooms, supervise kids during breaks, help with homework, and even mop the toilets sometimes,” she says. “They call us teachers, but we are everything—nannies, cleaners, tutors, examiners. And we’re paid peanuts.”
With over 150 students, and tuition between ₦70,000 and ₦90,000 per child, the school generates a healthy income. Yet, staff welfare is an afterthought.
“The owner drives an SUV. They just installed new CCTV cameras. But when we ask for ₦5,000 salary increment, they act like we’re begging for gold,” she said.
Sodiq’s Experience: “The System is Rigged Against Us”
Sodiq, 35, teaches Mathematics and Physics at a private secondary school in Ibadan, Oyo State. Despite his qualifications and commitment, he earns just ₦35,000 monthly.
“I resume by 7:30 a.m. and close by 4 p.m., sometimes later if I’m handling extra lessons,” he explains. “There’s no pension, no health insurance, no end-of-year bonus—nothing.”
Sodiq is particularly disheartened by the hypocrisy. “They talk about excellence, character, and morals, but they exploit their staff. How can I give my best when I can’t even afford decent meals?”
He, like many others, has considered leaving the profession. “But where will I go? Jobs are scarce. At least here, I have something—however little.”
A Broken Business Model
Experts argue that the core of the problem lies in how many private schools are run—as businesses, not educational institutions. Proprietors often prioritize profit over pedagogy. Teachers are seen as expendable tools, not skilled professionals.
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While it’s true that running a school involves overhead costs—rent, utility bills, taxes, learning materials—the financial neglect of teachers is indefensible. In some schools, teachers are still owed salaries from previous terms.
The lack of a unified union for private school teachers further compounds the issue. Without collective bargaining power or government intervention, teachers are left to fend for themselves.
“Once you complain too much, they just fire you,” says Omolade. “They know there are hundreds of unemployed graduates ready to take your place.”
Parents Are Often in the Dark
Interestingly, many parents are unaware of the exploitation taking place behind the scenes. They see tidy classrooms, digital learning aids, and organized school events. They assume the teachers are well taken care of.
“They think they’re paying for quality,” says Patricia. “But what they don’t see is that we—the ones delivering that quality—are starving.”
A few parents have started asking questions, but many accept the status quo, assuming private schools must be better than government-run institutions.
Is There a Way Out?
Some teachers are choosing to walk away. Many are turning to private home tutoring, which pays better and offers more flexible hours. Others are launching small businesses on the side—selling clothes, food, or digital services.
A few manage to transition into public school jobs, which, despite their challenges, at least offer government-backed salaries and pensions.
But for most, leaving is not an option. The high unemployment rate and lack of alternatives mean they must endure the hardship, day in, day out.
Time for Accountability and Reform
The plight of Nigeria’s private school teachers cannot continue to go unnoticed. It demands urgent attention from educational policymakers, civil society organizations, and even parents.
Teachers are not second-class citizens. They are builders of the nation, mentors to the future. They deserve fair compensation, workplace dignity, and a voice in how schools are run.
There should be a nationwide review of labour practices in private schools. Regulatory bodies must enforce wage standards and hold school proprietors accountable for exploitative practices.
Parents, too, must begin to ask questions about how their children’s tuition fees are spent. Awareness and demand for transparency can go a long way in putting pressure on schools to treat their staff fairly.
Conclusion: A Call for Justice
The Nigerian private education system is standing on the shoulders of teachers who are overburdened and underpaid. Their silent suffering has gone on for too long.
It’s time to shift the narrative. Education is not just about infrastructure and branding—it’s about the human beings in the classrooms, delivering knowledge with passion and purpose.
If Nigeria truly values education, it must begin by valuing its educators. Anything less is a betrayal of the very future we claim to build.