“Mummy, Why Can’t I Go Back to My Old School?”

This story discusses job loss, financial pressure and moving a child to a different school.

I kept rehearsing the conversation in my head for weeks. No matter how I said it, I knew it would break my child’s heart.

For the Nigerian mother who told us this story, and whose name we are withholding to protect her family, the hardest part of losing her job was not the uncertainty and it was not the money. It was having to tell her child that life was about to change.

For years she had provided the thing many Nigerian parents work themselves to the bone for. A comfortable home and a place at a good private school. Fees paid on time, every term. Her child had friends there, knew the teachers by name, did the clubs and the activities, and had settled into somewhere that had stopped feeling like a school and started feeling like a second home.

Then it went.

I lost my job unexpectedly. At first I was not too worried, because I believed I would get another one quickly. I had experience, good recommendations, confidence. But weeks turned into months.

Applications went out. Interviews came and went. Promises were made and no offer followed. The bills did not pause to see how it was going. Rent. Feeding. Transport. And school fees, arriving on the calendar exactly as they always had.

As a single mum, there was nobody I could lean on financially. Every decision rested on me.

The job that came with a discount

Eventually she took an administrative role at a private secondary school. The salary was well below what she had been earning, but it carried one thing that mattered more than the difference. Staff received discounted fees for their own children.

It was the opening she needed to stay afloat.

The school is actually good. The teachers are committed, the students are doing well, the environment is safe. But compared to my child’s former school, people would say it is not in the same league.

The decision itself was not complicated. Keeping her child where they were meant debt she had no realistic way of repaying.

The hard part was saying it out loud to a child in junior secondary.

The conversation

I remember sitting on the edge of the bed after dinner. I had been postponing it because I did not know where to start.

Her child listened while she explained that things were different now. She talked about jobs and money, and about how adults sometimes have to make difficult decisions so that a family can keep moving.

Then came the question she had been dreading.

"Mummy, did I do something wrong?"

She paused.

My heart shattered.

She said no straight away. That none of it was theirs to carry. That Mummy was going through a difficult season, and they were going to get through it together.

The questions kept coming. Will I still see my friends. Will people laugh at me. Why can we not just stay there.

Honest questions, and they deserved honest answers.

I told my child that schools do not decide who we become. What matters is how seriously we learn, wherever we are.

The first day

On the first morning at the new school, she was in a worse state than her child.

I sat in the car after dropping my child off and cried.

Not because the new school was inadequate. Not because she had failed. Because every parent wants to stand between their child and life’s disappointments, and she had just watched herself fail to.

Then, over weeks, something she had not expected.

Her child settled. New friendships formed. Teachers turned into familiar faces. Conversations about the old school gave way to conversations about a project due on Thursday.

It taught me something. Sometimes we parents carry more guilt than our children carry disappointment.

She has stopped measuring herself as a mother by the name printed on her child’s uniform.

I have realised that providing stability matters more than maintaining appearances.

She is not the only one

Her story is one many Nigerian families are living quietly right now and rarely saying out loud.

With inflation where it is and school fees climbing sharply from one session to the next, a great many parents are making adjustments they never planned to make. Some move their children to more affordable schools. Others negotiate payment plans with the bursar, take on extra work, or cut things out of their own lives to keep their children where they are. If you are working out your own numbers this term, our breakdown of what school actually costs this term sets out what must be paid before the first day and what can honestly wait.

None of it is easy, and almost none of it gets discussed at the school gate.

Behind most quiet school transfers is a parent choosing responsibility over pride, and honesty over pretending everything is fine.

She is still hopeful.

I still believe another opportunity will come. But even if life changes again, my child now understands something I could not have taught in any classroom. That families stand together through every season.

That lesson will outlast any school badge.

A note from iMumZone

If school fees are becoming difficult, you are not alone and there are usually more options than it feels like. Speak to the school bursar directly, because many schools will split fees into instalments or offer a sibling discount without advertising either. If money worries are affecting your sleep, your health or how you feel about yourself, that is worth talking to a doctor or a trusted person about. Choosing a school you can afford is not a failure of motherhood. It is a mother doing her job.

Have you had to make a decision like this one?

We would love to hear your story too. Somebody is sitting on the edge of a bed tonight, rehearsing a conversation she does not know how to start. Yours might be the story that makes it easier. Email us at askimumzone@gmail.com or send us a DM on Instagram. You can share anonymously if you would rather not use your name.