By: Lovejane Chinaza Chidi-Iwobi.

In classrooms from Awka to Liverpool, students absorb more than math and English. They learn values, habits, and worldviews, often from what the curriculum doesn’t explicitly teach. Beneath every formal curriculum lies another: the hidden curriculum, the lessons children absorb from how education is delivered and who delivers it.

As an African educator with experience teaching both in Nigeria and the United Kingdom, I have lived this reality on two continents. I have seen firsthand what happens when education is not only about knowledge, but about culture, inclusion, and dignity.

In Nigeria, I began teaching in systems where resources were stretched thin. Class sizes were large. Policies were unpredictable. But even within those constraints, something powerful was being cultivated: resilience, creativity, and communal learning.

Nigerian teachers have long been more than instructors. We are caregivers, motivators, protectors of dignity, and advocates for our pupils. We teach with limited materials but an abundance of vision. We raise children in overcrowded classrooms but never lose sight of the individual child.

These are not just soft skills. They are global competencies. As the world grapples with equity in education, teacher burnout, and mental health in schools, the improvisational brilliance and emotional intelligence many African educators carry should no longer be ignored. These are not just tools for survival. They are tools for transformation.

When I transitioned into the UK education space, I brought that ethos with me. But I also saw a deep and urgent gap. Many UK classrooms are now filled with children from diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds, from Nigeria, Pakistan, Ghana, Bangladesh, Poland, Syria, and beyond. This diversity presents an opportunity for educators from all backgrounds, including African teachers, to bring their experiences, perspectives, and strengths into the classroom.

This mismatch matters.

When children do not see themselves represented in the people who teach them, a subtle but powerful message is sent about whose knowledge, voice, and identity matters. In a school with thirty nationalities represented among its pupils, the staff room cannot remain one dimensional. Diversity is not just a checkbox. It is a responsibility.

As migration increases and classrooms become even more multicultural, the need for inclusive, representative teaching is not optional. It is foundational. Diverse teachers do not just improve representation. They enrich pedagogy. They bring lived experience, cultural sensitivity, multilingual strengths, and an intuitive understanding of how identity shapes learning.

Education systems, both in Nigeria and the UK, must take this seriously. We must actively recruit, train, and retain teachers from underrepresented communities. We must revise textbooks and curriculums to reflect the modern realities of family, gender, identity, and community. We must foster a school culture where diversity is not just celebrated in posters but embodied in leadership.

The hidden curriculum is not hidden anymore. It is glaring, in who we hire, what we teach, and how we treat each child.

African teachers, forged in complexity, bring with them a kind of wisdom and innovation the global education system urgently needs. We are not just responding to the times. We are shaping what inclusive education should look like in this new era.

It is time to recognize it, reflect it, and resource it.