What struck me most was how intentional they were. I saw parents reminding their children to revise their notes even after long, tiring days. Some couldn’t read or write themselves, yet they would sit beside their kids, asking them to read aloud or explain what they learned in school. It wasn’t about correcting mistakes; it was about showing interest and letting the child know that school mattered.

Many parents made real sacrifices. I met families who would prioritize buying notebooks over new clothes, or save small amounts daily just to pay school levies. Some mothers told me they skipped meals occasionally so their children could have lunch money at school. Even when school materials were scarce, parents encouraged their kids to borrow books, share notes, and study with friends, constantly reminding them that education was their way out.

What really moved me was how parents used words and hope as tools. They spoke to their children about a future different from their own  becoming teachers, doctors, engineers, or simply “someone better.” Even when they were exhausted, they still found time to motivate, warn against dropping out, and praise small academic efforts like passing a test or improving handwriting.

From my experience, parents in Makoko don’t encourage education because life is easy  they encourage it because life is hard. Their support may not come in the form of expensive schools or private lessons, but it shows up in sacrifices, constant reminders, shared hope, and belief. Seeing this firsthand changed my understanding of what real commitment to education looks like, and it left a deep impression on me.