Sh95,000 collected, Sh1,320 per teacher: Is this how we appreciate our educators?

If this were a comedy script, the audience would probably demand a refund. Unfortunately, this is the uncomfortable reality of a profession whose importance is loudly proclaimed but whose practitioners are often quietly undervalued.

The figures tell a story that deserves more than laughter emojis. If each teacher receives Sh1,320 from a collection of Sh95,000, the number of beneficiaries would be approximately 72, assuming the entire amount was distributed without deductions. The exact number depends on how the money was distributed and whether there were other deductions.

Nevertheless, the central question remains: What does such a gesture communicate about the value a school community attaches to its teachers?

World Teachers’ Day, celebrated annually on October 5, is an occasion to recognise the people who shape minds, nurture talent and prepare children for the future. It is a day for gratitude, reflection and renewed commitment to the teaching profession.

Yet, in some school communities, the celebration risks becoming an annual exercise in symbolism, where teachers are praised in speeches but forgotten when meaningful appreciation is required.

Let us be clear: The problem is not that Sh1,320 is an insignificant amount of money in every circumstance. To a struggling teacher, every shilling counts.

The problem is the message that may be conveyed when a school organises a collection in the name of appreciating its staff, only for the eventual gift to appear embarrassingly disconnected from the sacrifices teachers make.

Appreciation should leave the recipient feeling recognised, not wondering whether the entire exercise was worth the effort.

Parents are not necessarily to blame for the meagre collection. Some are struggling with school fees, rent, food prices, medical bills and other household expenses.

Others may have several children in different schools, each with its own list of financial expectations. The economic realities facing Kenyan families cannot be dismissed.

A parent who contributes nothing may be unable to afford even a modest donation, rather than unwilling to appreciate a teacher.

However, there is a difference between inability and indifference.

While some parents genuinely cannot contribute, others can afford to spend generously on entertainment, celebrations and personal luxuries but struggle to recognise the people entrusted with educating their children.

It is this contradiction that deserves scrutiny. We cannot continuously demand excellence from teachers while treating their welfare and dignity as optional extras.

The irony is that parents entrust teachers with something far more valuable than money: their children.

Every morning, they entrust their sons and daughters to institutions whose success depends heavily on the competence, commitment and character of the teaching staff.

Teachers are expected to identify learning difficulties, manage different personalities, nurture discipline, prepare learners for examinations and communicate academic progress to parents.

In private schools, they must often do all this while meeting demanding institutional expectations and protecting the school's reputation.

Yet when the opportunity arises to demonstrate appreciation, the response can be surprisingly underwhelming.

Perhaps the real problem is that society has become accustomed to treating teaching as a calling that should somehow substitute for fair recognition.

Teachers are expected to be patient, selfless, understanding and endlessly committed.

Their work is frequently described as a noble service, as though nobility automatically pays rent, buys groceries or meets family obligations.

Whenever teachers raise concerns about remuneration or working conditions, someone inevitably reminds them that teaching is a vocation.

But a vocation is not a vow of poverty. Teachers deserve more.

Teachers have families to feed, children to educate, bills to settle and personal ambitions to pursue.

They experience the same economic pressures as other professionals. Their commitment to shaping young minds should inspire greater respect, not become an excuse for minimising their needs.

A teacher's dedication cannot reasonably be measured by how much financial disappointment they are willing to endure without complaint.

Private school proprietors, too, must examine the culture of appreciation within their institutions.

Some schools invest heavily in marketing, branding, elaborate functions and public relations campaigns.

They advertise impressive academic results, celebrate institutional milestones and promote their achievements on social media.

Yet the people responsible for translating the school's educational promises into classroom realities may receive little recognition beyond an annual message of gratitude.

A school cannot convincingly market excellence while neglecting the morale of the people expected to deliver it.

Happy, motivated and respected teachers are not a luxury; they are an important part of a healthy learning environment.

Although money alone cannot guarantee motivation, inadequate recognition can deepen the feeling that teachers are valued mainly for what they produce rather than for who they are.

Parents' associations and school management should therefore rethink how World Teachers’ Day is organised.

Appreciation should not become a competition in which schools are judged by the amount collected. Nor should teachers be made to feel ashamed of receiving a modest gift.

Instead, institutions should encourage voluntary contributions, transparent budgeting and inclusive celebrations that recognise teachers without placing unreasonable financial pressure on parents.

A handwritten letter from a learner, a sincere message from a parent, a thoughtful staff luncheon or a meaningful professional development opportunity may communicate genuine gratitude.

Where parents can comfortably contribute financially, they can do so willingly. Where they cannot, their inability should not invite ridicule.

The objective should be to honour teachers, not to embarrass families.

Nevertheless, the reported Sh95,000 collection should prompt an honest conversation about the relationship between schools, parents and teachers.

Are teachers genuinely appreciated, or are they merely expected to be grateful for having employment?

Do parents recognise the daily effort involved in educating their children, or do they remember teachers only when results disappoint them?

And do school managers create environments in which staff feel respected beyond the classroom?

These questions matter because appreciation is not merely about money. It is about dignity, recognition and the understanding that educational success is a shared responsibility.

Ultimately, the value of a teacher cannot be reduced to Sh1,320. Neither can it be measured by the size of a World Teachers’ Day envelope.

The teacher who patiently helps a struggling learner, restores confidence in a discouraged child or inspires a young person to pursue an ambitious dream contributes something that cannot easily be quantified.

But let us not romanticise sacrifice.

Teachers deserve more than applause, motivational quotations and occasional gifts.

They deserve fair pay, decent working conditions, professional respect and communities that understand the magnitude of their responsibility.

So, as we laugh at the Sh1,320 gift and the Sh1,700 transaction charge, perhaps we should ask ourselves a more serious question: Are we celebrating teachers, or merely reminding them how little society is sometimes willing to spend to recognise their worth?

A teacher may accept Sh1,320 with a smile. That smile, however, should never be mistaken for a declaration that the amount adequately represents their value.

Because the truth is simple: You can divide Sh95,000 among teachers, but you cannot divide the value of a teacher into Sh1,320.

That is shameful.