You can’t build a house without paying the workers. So why are we trying to educate 32 million students without paying teachers a living wage?
Nigeria has one of the largest education systems in Africa — sprawling across urban cities and rural communities — yet its education sector remains chronically underfunded. For years, classrooms have been built on shaky foundations: inadequate resources, low pay, and poor infrastructure. But this year’s budget exposes a deeper crack in the system.
In the 2025 fiscal year, the Nigerian government allocated ₦3.52 trillion to education — 7% of its total budget. On paper, that sounds like progress. But in practice, it’s not even close to enough.
The piece traces the gap between what’s promised and what’s paid — and why what’s missing could break the system from within.
Budget Breakdown: Why Nigeria’s Education Allocation Falls Short
According to the Teachers Registration Council of Nigeria, there are about 2.3 million registered teachers across primary, secondary, and tertiary levels. With the new national minimum wage of ₦70,000/month (effective July 2024), that means:
- ₦840,000 per teacher per year
- ₦1.93 trillion needed annually to pay all teachers at minimum wage
But in the 2025 budget, only ₦1.64 trillion is allocated for personnel — not just teachers, but everyone on the education payroll. That leaves a ₦290 billion shortfall.
And it’s not new. In 2024, the gap was even worse:
- Budgeted: ₦1.04 trillion
- Needed: ₦1.93 trillion
- Shortfall: ₦892 billion (a 46.2% deficit)
It’s hard to attract or keep top educators when your offer doesn’t even meet the legal minimum.
The math is clear: We’re not investing in teachers. And without teachers, we don’t have a system, we have a shell.
Consequences of Education Underfunding in Nigeria
The numbers might seem like just another line item in the national budget, but the consequences are real, and are already unfolding.
1. We’re Losing Good Teachers
Public schools, especially in rural areas, struggle to fill positions. Some roles stay vacant; others go to underqualified staff.
Qualified teachers leave — for private schools, other careers, or out of the country entirely.
They’re not walking away from the profession. They’re walking away from poverty.
2. Education Quality Collapses
Underpaid teachers burn out fast. Many take on side jobs, skip training, or mentally check out.
That shows in the classroom:
Good teaching requires motivation, and motivation starts with decent pay.
3. Inequality Widens
Rural schools already lag behind. With underpaid teachers, the gap grows wider.
- Urban kids get tech.
- Rural kids get chalk, or no teacher at all.
We’re building two education systems: one for the privileged, one for the rest.
4. Democracy Suffers
An illiterate population can’t engage with politics meaningfully.
- They struggle with ballots and manifestos
- They’re easy targets for misinformation
Some politicians may prefer this, but it’s a dangerous foundation for any democracy.
5. Security Gets Weaker
An illiterate youth is easier to brainwash into dangerous beliefs. And poor education fuels recruitment into violent movements.
We can fund classrooms now, or crisis response units later.
Solutions to Nigeria’s Education Budget Crisis
Solving this isn’t rocket science. It just takes political will — and a realistic plan.
1. Close The ₦290 Billion Gap.
Start by paying teachers what the law requires. Build salary scales around experience and location, not political convenience.
2. Protect Teachers, Especially in High-Risk Zones.
In conflict-prone areas, safety is as important as pay.
A dedicated teacher security fund can reduce absenteeism and help retention where it’s needed most.
3. Don’t Raise Taxes, Recover Wasted Funds.
Where will the money come from?
In 2024, the EFCC recovered ₦277 billion in stolen funds — almost enough to plug the gap entirely.
Recovered corruption money should be redirected toward salaries, not buried in bureaucracy.
The figures in this analysis come from publicly available federal budget data for 2024 and 2025. But education financing in Nigeria is messy. Teachers are paid by federal, state, and local governments, sometimes with help from international partners. Detailed payroll breakdowns are not available, so it’s hard to know exactly who pays what.
The “personnel” budget covers more than classroom teachers. It includes non-teaching staff, plus lecturers and professors in higher institutions — many earning above the ₦70,000 minimum wage.
On top of that, Nigeria faces a shortage of about 1.4 million teachers by 2030. Low pay, late salaries, and insecurity make recruitment even harder.
Given these gaps, the ₦1.93 trillion estimate to pay all teachers at minimum wage is conservative. Even so, the shortfall is clear, and far from the UNESCO benchmark of 15–20% of the national budget for education. Without urgent reform, underfunding will deepen inequality and weaken Nigeria’s long-term prospects.
Underfunding Teachers is a National Liability
This isn’t just a numbers issue, but a national priority test.
When you underfund teacher salaries, you don’t just slow down education reform, you put the entire system at risk. And with it, the future of almost 230 million people.
A ₦290 billion gap sounds technical. Budget talk always does. But underneath that figure is a generation of students sitting in overcrowded classrooms, led by teachers on strike who aren’t paid enough to focus, let alone thrive.
You can’t expect high performance from people scraping by.
If we want quality education, we need to fund it like we mean it. And we don’t have to raise new money to solve this.
We just have to stop wasting the money we already have — and start putting it where it counts.
It’s either that, or keep watching the system collapse in slow motion.

Johnson is a Content Strategist at Column. He helps brands craft content that drives visibility and results. He studied Economics at the University of Ibadan and brings over years of experience in direct response marketing, combining strategy, creativity, and data-backed thinking.
Connect with him on LinkedIn.