It was 6:40 AM when my phone buzzed with a message from my daughter’s school. “Kindly note that second term fees are due by Friday.” I sat on the edge of my bed and did the math I had already done three times that week. The numbers had not changed. Neither had my bank balance.
If you’re a Nigerian parent in 2026, you know this feeling. It’s not a one-time crisis — it’s a season. This month alone, the federal government proposed raising WASSCE and NECO registration fees from ₦27,000 to ₦50,000, before public outcry forced a suspension. Meanwhile, private school fees keep climbing — some parents have watched a single term jump from ₦450,000 to ₦650,000 in a year. And now it’s graduation season, which means levies, outfits, and parties on top of everything else.
I know the anxiety. I’ve felt the tightness in my chest when a school portal shows a balance I don’t yet have. And I’ve learned — sometimes the hard way — that the real test of parenting isn’t whether you can afford everything your child needs. It’s what you do with your children while you’re figuring out how to afford it.
What the Scriptures Say About Provision Under Pressure
I think often about the widow of Zarephath in 1 Kings 17. She was down to her last handful of flour and a little oil — enough, she thought, for one final meal before she and her son died of starvation. Elijah showed up and asked her to feed him first, before herself and her son. It sounds like an unreasonable request. But her obedience unlocked a miracle: the flour did not run out, and the oil did not fail, for as long as the famine lasted.
Here’s what strikes me about that story. God didn’t fill her barrel to overflowing so she’d never worry about food again. He met her exactly where she was, one day at a time, for as long as the season lasted. That’s not the testimony we usually want. We want the barrel filled once and for all. But most of us are actually living the widow’s story — daily provision in the middle of an ongoing famine, not a single dramatic rescue that ends the struggle forever.
There’s a second thing I notice. The widow didn’t hide her lack from her son. She told him plainly what she had and what she didn’t. She didn’t pretend everything was fine while quietly falling apart. And I believe that’s part of why the miracle held — she stayed honest, and she stayed obedient, one day at a time.
A Framework for Parenting Through Financial Pressure
1. Separate your child’s worth from your wallet.
Children absorb what we transmit far more than what we say. If every conversation about money is laced with panic, shame, or blame, your child learns to associate their needs — even reasonable ones — with your suffering. Say the hard things calmly. “This term is tight, and here’s what that means for us” is very different from a household soaked in silent dread.
2. Let them see faith in action, not just faith in words.
Don’t just tell your children God provides. Let them watch you pray about the school fees, and then let them watch you follow up with a phone call, a plan, an honest conversation with the school. Faith that never shows its work teaches children to wait passively. Faith that prays and then moves teaches them how provision actually tends to arrive.
3. Distinguish need from expectation.
Graduation season is a good example. A lot of what feels non-negotiable — the elaborate outfit, the party, the gift — is actually social expectation dressed up as necessity. You are allowed to opt out of the arms race. Your child’s real milestones don’t require you to compete with a neighbor’s budget.
4. Talk to the school before the deadline talks to you.
Many Nigerian schools have more flexibility than parents assume — payment plans, partial deposits, adjusted timelines — but only for parents who communicate early. Waiting until the deadline forces you into a corner. A short, respectful conversation weeks ahead of time often changes what’s possible.
5. Build something durable alongside the survival mode.
Even in a tight season, look for one thing you can build with your child that costs little or nothing — reading together, teaching them a skill, having them shadow you at work. Financial pressure is temporary. What you deposit into your child’s character and confidence during the pressure is not.
A Prayer for This Season
Father, You saw the widow’s empty jar before she did, and You did not despise her lack. I bring my own household before You now — the fees, the bills, the numbers that don’t yet add up. Give me wisdom for today, not just anxiety about tomorrow. Let my children see me pray and also see me work. Where I’ve confused their worth with what I can afford them, correct my heart. Keep the oil flowing and the flour from running out, for as long as this season lasts. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Where Do You Go From Here?
You don’t have to carry this alone, and you don’t have to pretend you have it all figured out. If this spoke to you, I’d love for you to join our WhatsApp community, where we talk through exactly this kind of pressure — practically and prayerfully — with other parents walking the same road. [https://chat.whatsapp.com/Lii374jYVCe2b1I3xyJTMq?s=cl&p=a&ilr=1&amv=2]
And if you want a deeper walk through raising children with intention, even in seasons of lack, my book *What God Didn’t Say About Your Kids* goes further into this. You can find it here: [https://selar.com/7k99976167]
