By Andrew Musanja
As a parent, I live by two calendars. The first is the one on my wall, with birthdays, work deadlines, and family events.
The second lives in my head and never lets me rest. It is the school calendar. Term opening dates. Deadline reminders. The quiet countdown to the moment when a child might be sent home for unpaid fees.
In the weeks before schools reopen, many parents I know exist in a state of low-grade panic. WhatsApp messages fly. “How much are you short?” “Do you know anyone lending?” Salaries are checked and rechecked. Savings jars are broken. Some parents sell household items. Others postpone rent or medical visits. This is not rare or dramatic. It is routine.
School opening days tell the same story every term. Children are reporting late. Others sent home. Parents standing awkwardly in school offices, promising to pay “by next week.” Borrowing from friends, savings groups, or worse, informal lenders charging punishing interest.
Education is not a surprise. School fees are among the most predictable expenses a household will ever face. We know the amounts. We know the dates. We know they repeat every term, and yet, every term feels like an emergency.
This is not because parents are careless. It is because the system is misaligned. Most salaries are paid monthly, while school fees are due in large lumps, often three times a year. Even among salaried workers, fewer than half report having enough savings to cover three months of expenses.
In that context, a sudden demand for a full term’s fees can destabilize an entire household budget. So, parents hustle. Informal borrowing is common. In some urban areas, more than one in three parents report borrowing to pay school fees at least once a year.
These loans often come with social pressure, high interest, or both. Alongside the financial strain is the quiet emotional cost. The stress parents carry. Zoom out, and the costs multiply. Parents lose workdays chasing funds or negotiating deadlines. Debt stacks from term to term. Children miss lessons or exams because the fees are incomplete.
Teachers and schools spend time managing arrears instead of focusing on learning. Families absorb constant mental and emotional strain. We have normalized a cycle that exhausts households for no good reason. We are treating a predictable expense as if it were a crisis, and families are paying the price.
The good news is that alternatives are starting to emerge. Some parents are shifting away from last-minute scrambling toward more structured ways of paying for school. School-fees financing options, including bank-fintech partnerships like DTB and Furaha, are gaining attention.
The idea is simple. Instead of paying a full lump sum at once, parents spread the cost over manageable installments aligned with their income.
This is not about encouraging debt for the sake of it. Used well, these tools smooth cash flow. They replace panic with planning. Opportunity EduFinance’s recent report on Uganda school-fee loans shows that households that used school-fee loans had a lower rate of student absenteeism (22 %) than households that did not use loans (33 %).
Thus, parents report lower stress, and there is less absenteeism for students.
Still, this conversation should not center on products. It should center on parents. What parents want is not charity or shortcuts. They want predictability. They want dignity. They want room to plan without begging or borrowing under pressure. They want to focus on their children’s growth, not constant financial firefighting.
Education will always require sacrifice. But it does not have to feel like a recurring crisis. If we design systems that match how families actually earn, save, and live, school fees can become what they should have been all along. Planned. Predictable. And manageable.
That is not an impossible dream. It is a practical one.
The author is the Head of Retail Banking at Diamond Trust Bank.
