The opening weeks of a new school term often brim with anticipation. Classrooms buzz with fresh energy, students arrive with sharpened pencils and uncreased uniforms, and educators renew their hopes for academic success. Yet, hidden beneath this optimistic surface are students who begin the term already teetering on the edge, quietly battling challenges that could set the tone for the rest of the academic year. For them, the start of a new term is not a clean slate, but a continuation of difficulties, confusion, or emotional weight carried over from previous terms or home life. For teachers and school administrators, identifying and supporting these students early is not just helpful, it is critical. The earlier a student’s struggles are recognised and addressed, the more likely they are to receive the support they need before falling too far behind. But how can educators detect these early warning signs when they are often subtle, masked by silence, or mistaken for laziness?
Student struggles at the beginning of a term are seldom rooted in a single cause. They often emerge from a mix of academic, emotional, psychological, social, or even financial challenges. A child may have missed foundational concepts in the previous term. Another may be experiencing changes at home, such as parental separation or relocation. In some cases, students battle learning disabilities that have not yet been identified, or mental health concerns like anxiety or depression. For others, it could be the weight of poverty, lack of sleep, malnutrition, or the responsibility of taking care of siblings before and after school. The sad reality is that many struggling students become invisible in classrooms. They do not always act out or speak up; rather, they retreat. Their struggles manifest in incomplete homework, glazed expressions, sudden mood changes, absenteeism, or resistance to group work. These signals can be easily overlooked, especially in overcrowded classrooms common in many Nigerian public schools.
Spotting a struggling student early in the term requires more than academic vigilance, it requires emotional intelligence and keen observation. Teachers who take the time to observe student behaviour, ask the right questions, and create safe spaces for honest dialogue are more likely to notice red flags. For example, a student who was once actively engaged but now appears withdrawn may not just be shy, they might be facing emotional distress. A student who regularly forgets homework may not be careless, they may lack access to electricity or a quiet space at home. Another who frequently dozes off in class may not be lazy, they might be dealing with insomnia or caring for a sick relative at night. Sometimes, it’s the students who appear overly eager and perfectionistic that are struggling internally, pressured by unrealistic expectations at home or a fear of failure. These are students who need more than academic interventions, they need empathy, understanding, and appropriate support systems.
The first few weeks of the term present a golden window for educators to conduct informal assessments, both academic and emotional. Simple activities like short diagnostic quizzes, journal writing, or one-on-one check-ins can reveal a great deal about where students stand. These interactions provide insights that go beyond grades, they highlight learning gaps, social dynamics, confidence levels, and even emotional wellbeing.
Some schools in Nigeria and other parts of Africa are beginning to integrate Social Emotional Learning (SEL) into early term assessments, recognising that a child’s emotional stability is just as vital to learning as their cognitive readiness. When schools prioritise the whole child—body, mind, and spirit, they position themselves to catch warning signs before the student begins to fall.
Perhaps the most powerful way to spot a struggling student early is by cultivating a classroom culture rooted in trust, care, and openness. When students feel seen and heard, they are more likely to open up about what they’re experiencing. But this culture doesn’t happen by accident, it is built through daily actions, such as how a teacher greets their students, responds to mistakes, or celebrates effort. Students are more inclined to confide in teachers who show genuine interest in their lives, ask how their morning went, or notice when something seems “off.” Even brief moments of connection, a smile, a nod, a private word can become entry points into deeper conversations that uncover hidden challenges.
Once a struggling student is identified, the next step is crafting meaningful support, tailored to the child’s unique circumstances. In some cases, this could mean arranging peer tutoring, modifying lesson plans, or providing additional resources. In others, it might involve referring the student to a guidance counsellor, speaking to parents or guardians, or connecting the family to social services or local NGOs. In Nigeria, where schools often lack the luxury of full-time counsellors or resource specialists, teachers may need to become more creative. Community partnerships can be powerful here. NGOs like Teach For Nigeria, LEAP Africa, and Slum2School have shown how collaborative models can bridge the gap, offering psychosocial support, learning materials, or even basic needs like food and school uniforms. Technology can also play a role. Teachers in low-income areas can also use messaging apps to check in with students outside school hours, while others share short audio lessons for students without regular access to textbooks.
Educators cannot and should not shoulder this responsibility alone. Parents are vital allies in spotting and supporting struggling students. But this requires an open channel of communication between home and school. Teachers must find ways to engage parents early, not just when problems arise. Regular parent-teacher meetings, progress reports, and home visits (where feasible) create a collaborative approach to student wellbeing. When a parent understands that a teacher is concerned not just about grades, but about their child’s overall growth, they are more likely to be open and cooperative. On the flip side, schools must also equip parents with the language and tools to identify struggles at home, such as poor sleep patterns, changes in appetite, or a sudden drop in motivation.
Spotting and supporting struggling students also requires that teachers are emotionally and mentally well. When educators are burned out, overwhelmed, or under-supported, as is the case for many in Nigeria, they are less likely to notice student distress or respond effectively. This is why investments in teacher training, emotional support, and workload reduction must be prioritised. A teacher who is encouraged to reflect, recharge, and receive mentorship will likely be more attuned to their students’ emotional and academic needs. Education, after all, is as much about human connection as it is about curriculum delivery.
Struggles left unattended do not just affect a student’s academic performance; they shape how a child sees themselves. A student who believes they are “dull” or “not good enough” because their early struggles were overlooked may carry that label for life. But the opposite is also true: a student who is supported early in the term, who is told “I see you, and I believe in you,” begins to build a new narrative—one rooted in resilience, capability, and hope. In spotting and supporting struggling students early, we do more than fix problems, we nurture potential. We tell our students, through our actions, that their growth matters, not just their grades. And in a world where many young people are still fighting to be seen, that recognition can be the difference between giving up and rising above.
