💔 “THE DAY A PARENT CALLED ME A P00R MAN IN FRONT OF HER CHILD”

23rd Jun, 2025 Views 69

💔 “THE DAY A PARENT CALLED ME A P00R MAN IN FRONT OF HER CHILD”

A true story I’ll never forget…

Nine years ago, I was teaching in a secondary school in Anambra State.
I was younger, still full of fire — firm, passionate, and very disciplined.
Mathematics was my world. I didn’t joke with assignments.
If you were in my class, you had to come prepared.

There was this girl…
She didn’t like Maths.
She never did her assignments.
She laughed at those who wanted to learn.
She m0cked the serious students and proudly flaunted her empty notebook like it was a trophy.
Her defiance wasn’t new — but that day, she pushed too far.

I had already started teaching.
She walked into the class without her maths note again…
No assignment. No sh.ame.

I calmly told her to kneel down.
She refused.
“Sir, what did I do?”

I said,
“You didn’t do the assignment.”
And she replied with a smirk:
“Is it by force to do assignment?”

That moment…
As a young teacher — still believing discipline could change people —
I gave her four str0kes of the cane.

She cried… and ran home.

Her house was close to the school.
Within minutes, her mother stormed in.

Her eyes were red with anger.
She walked straight to me in front of students and teachers.
I thought she would sla.p me.
She raised her hand… but something in my face must have stopped her.

Instead, she began to rain insu.lts on me.
She screamed at the top of her voice for the whole school to hear:

“You this P00R man!”
“How much is your salary? Highest is 20,000!”
“See the n0nsense trousers you’re wearing!”
“You want to fl0g my child because of maths assignment??”

The students watched.
Other teachers stood frozen.
But her words cu.t deeper than any slap could ever do.

What she didn’t know…
Was that my salary was actually 15,000 naira. 😂😂😂

And yes, my trousers were worn-out.
I had only two that I rotated.
My shoes were beginning to peel.
But I still showed up every morning —
Prepared, passionate, and punctual.

I entered the staff room that day…
And I cr!ed.
Not small tears.
I wept like a child.

I wept for every insult.ed teacher.
I wept for every dedicated educator who can’t afford three square meals.
I wept for a profession that trains doctors, lawyers, and engineers —
Yet is treated like trash.

What have we done to deserve this?

Why do they call us p00r like it’s an insul.t —
When we are the ones trying to save their children from ignorance?

Why do parents attac.k us for enforcing discipline —
When the same child will one day cur$e them too?

Why does this country let those who carry chalk carry $hame?

That day changed me.

I didn’t stop teaching.
But something inside me br0ke.

I began to understand that being a teacher in Nigeria is not just a job —
It is warf.are without weapon$.
You fight poverty, disrespect, insul.t$, delayed salary, student rebell!on, and parental atta.ck — all alone.

Today, I am stronger.
But the pa!n of that moment still lives in me.

To every teacher reading this:
You are not alone.
Your work may not be valued today…
But someday, the same students — and maybe even their parents — will realize the gold you carried in your hands..