Nadiya Hussain moves from BBC food TV to primary-school teaching assistant

Nadiya Hussain, the former Great British Bake Off winner turned BBC staple, says she is now working as a teaching assistant at a primary school after the broadcaster dropped her cookery shows.

According to the Evening Standard, Hussain told Woman&Home that she has stepped away from “showbiz” and is seeking training with the aim of becoming a teacher. The career pivot follows the BBC’s decision last year not to commission another cookery series with her. The BBC said at the time that, “after several wonderful series,” it had made “the difficult decision not to commission another cookery show with Nadiya Hussain at the moment,” while adding that she remained “a much-valued part of the BBC family.”

Hussain’s account is less warm. She says she still does not know why her programmes were not renewed and that she has not had “a conversation with anyone,” leaving “no answers, no closure,” the Evening Standard reports. This is an unusually blunt description of how public-service celebrity actually works: the BBC can mint household names, but it can also quietly withdraw the oxygen—without ever needing to allege wrongdoing, breach of contract, or even offer an explanation beyond “business.”

The Daily Mail, covering the same comments, adds that Hussain says the cancellation left her “questioning who she was,” describing the work as having been her “whole personality.” She also says she received offers from rival broadcasters including Channel 4 and ITV, but declined them for now. She indicated she would consider returning to TV with more creative input, and expressed interest in documentaries and travelogues “about issues that matter,” while continuing to write cookbooks.

The personal context matters because it highlights the asymmetry of the relationship. Hussain says she lives with fibromyalgia and an autoimmune gastrointestinal condition, and that stress worsens symptoms; she links the non-renewal to a physical toll, according to the Evening Standard. Yet the BBC’s way of ending a flagship relationship is administrative rather than conversational—precisely the sort of low-friction institutional power that is difficult to challenge and almost impossible to audit.

For audiences, “public service” is not a synonym for stability or accountability. It is a brand and a distribution monopoly with cultural authority—one that can elevate a presenter into a national asset, then reclassify them as surplus capacity when formats, budgets, or internal politics shift. And for would-be creators, the BBC’s imprimatur functions like a license in the attention economy—valuable while it lasts, non-transferable when it doesn’t.

Hussain’s move into a classroom may be framed as a wholesome reset. It is also, in a small way, a market correction: when a giant gatekeeper stops returning your calls, you either find another gatekeeper—or you build a life that doesn’t require one.