For years, it was a noble profession. To be a teacher was to be respected. Today, it has become an object of ridicule. The Ghanaian teacher, who holds the future of this country in a chalk-stained hand, is now the punchline of jokes in tro-tros, markets, and family gatherings. It is a painful irony that the one who teaches others to become rich is unable to escape poverty himself.It is now described as a profession good for ladies, because the income alone cannot sustain a family. The assumption is that a woman will be supported by her husband, so she can afford to teach. For a man who must be the breadwinner, the salary is an insult. Consequently, many now see teaching not as a career, but as a stepping stone. It is something you do while waiting for a better opportunity. The ultimate disrespect comes from the very children we taught. After nurturing them and watching them graduate and become successful, they meet you on the road and ask with surprise, “Sir, are you still teaching?” As if to remain a teacher is a sign of failure.Walk into any staff common room at the end of the month, and the conversation is the same. It is about OD. Overdraft has become an unofficial part of the teacher’s salary. We are the first to get to the bank on payday, not because we are eager to save, but because our debts are waiting. Among all civil servants, the teacher is known as the poorest. While others are discussing plots of land and investments, the teacher is calculating how to make his salary reach the next month. We have become synonymous with being miserly, not because we love money too much, but because we have too little of it.This economic hardship has created a social stigma that follows us everywhere. Society now defines a teacher by his deprivation. The wearing of second-hand clothes, popularly known as “foos or abroni waa wo”, and used shoes is seen as our hobby. We are mocked for marrying food vendors, as if seeking a partner who can ensure you will at least eat is a crime. These jokes, though laughed at, carry a painful truth about how low the profession has sunk in the eyes of the public.If the situation in public schools is bad, the plight of our colleagues in the private sector is worse. Those teaching in schools run by a single individual or family suffer the most. Their salaries are nothing to write home about, and to make matters worse, the salary for January will be paid in the middle of February. They work the hardest, are supervised the most, yet are paid the least, with no job security and no pension to look forward to.The shame is most felt at home. During family gatherings where contributions are made for funerals or weddings, the teacher is the one who contributes the least. He bows his head in shame while his younger brother, who stopped school in Junior High School and learned a trade, contributes ten times more. It is in these moments that the most painful words are whispered to him: “There were so many lucrative jobs out there, but you chose to become a teacher.” The pride that once came with the profession has been replaced with quiet regret.The reality of our daily lives makes these words even harder to bear. We struggle to pay our rent in Accra and Kumasi, where landlords demand two years’ advance. We find it incredibly difficult to cater for the higher education of our own children, even though we spend our lives educating other people’s children. We go on vacation, but we cannot go on holiday. A trip to Ada or even across the border to Togo is a luxury we cannot afford. Our vacation is spent under a mango tree, marking piles of exercise books with a red pen that is almost dry.And so, we are told our reward is in heaven. This is the final consolation given to us. The white missionaries indeed brought both the Bible and the Western school system. It seems, however, that they left the promise of a heavenly reward for the teacher while others enjoy their earthly rewards. The teacher is told to be content with the knowledge that he is doing God’s work. But even the Bible declares that a worker deserves his wages.This is not a plea for pity. It is a call for national reflection. A nation that mocks its teachers mocks its own future. A hungry teacher cannot effectively teach a hungry child. A teacher who is constantly worried about where his next meal will come from cannot inspire children to dream big.If Ghana wants a quality education system that can compete with the rest of the world, we must first restore dignity to the teaching profession. This goes beyond the annual Best Teacher awards. It requires a living wage that reflects the importance of our work, better conditions of service, and genuine respect from society. Until we do this, we will continue to lose our brightest teachers to other professions, and our classrooms will be left with those who have no other choice.The joke, in the end, will not be on the teacher. It will be on the nation that chose to laugh at the very hands that built it. For without the teacher, there is no doctor, no lawyer, no engineer, and no president.