Family is often called the best gift in life, a place of love and care. Living with family should feel like a blessing, even when some members are strict. Parents, even when they are tough, love their children and want the best for their future. As the 12th child in a family of 18, I was surrounded by my brothers and sisters. We laughed, played, argued, and shared meals together. It was a happy life I didn’t fully appreciate—until I lost it.
Everything changed when my aunt’s husband died. In Islam, a widow must stay inside her home for four months and 10 days, only leaving for important reasons. Since my aunt had no child, my grandmother decided I should stay with her to keep her company. I was excited at first, imagining that I would be treated with kindness and have meals all to myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
One Saturday morning, after prayers, I wasn’t feeling well and decided to rest. Suddenly, a sharp slap landed on my face. My aunt, angry for reasons I didn’t understand, dragged me out of bed and beat me badly. Then, she told me my new daily tasks: fetching water from a faraway well, washing dishes, clothes, and her car, and sweeping the compound—all before 10 a.m. I was only 10 years old.
According to a report by the International Labour Organisation (ILO), more than 15 million children in Nigeria are forced into child labor. Many of these children, like me, are treated unfairly in their own homes by relatives. Instead of going to school, we do heavy chores and endure painful experiences. I was taken out of school for years and suffered in silence.
I wanted to tell my parents about my aunt’s behavior, but I was too afraid. She threatened me, and I feared what she would do if I spoke up. When I made her angry, she beat me with a copper wire, hit my head against the wall, or dragged me across the floor. Sadly, this kind of abuse happens to many children living with relatives. A UNICEF report says that nearly 60% of children in Nigeria who live with extended family face some kind of abuse, often hidden as “discipline.”
Life with my aunt wasn’t just about hard work—it was lonely. I felt isolated and scared all the time. Meanwhile, I watched other children in my neighborhood, also living with relatives, being treated like family. One girl, who I thought was living with her parents, was actually staying with her guardians. They treated her like a queen, sending her to the best school and giving her everything she needed. It was painful to see such a difference.
My suffering ended when I turned fifteen. My aunt, who had treated me like a servant, passed away after falling sick with typhoid. Even though she hurt me, I felt sad when she died. Over time, I learned to forgive her. As Maya Angelou once said, “We often forgive those who have wronged us, not for their sake, but for our own peace.” This was true for me.
Today, I am grateful to be alive and well. I am happily married, with two children, and I have returned to school to continue my studies. Looking back, I realize that after every hardship, relief eventually comes. My story is just one example of many.
In Nigeria, more than 7 million children live with extended family due to poverty, the loss of parents, or other reasons. Many of them suffer, just like I did. Unfortunately, their stories often remain unheard. According to Human Rights Watch, abuse of children living with relatives is a big problem that needs more attention.
I am sharing my story to let others know that this issue is real and must be addressed. Children who live with relatives deserve the same love and care that their own parents would give them. The Nigerian government and organisations fighting for children’s rights must do more to protect these vulnerable children. Laws against child abuse need to be enforced, so no child has to suffer in silence like I did.
To my readers, remember this: After every storm, there is calm. If you are going through a tough time, hold on. Relief will come. And for those who can help, we must speak up for children who cannot defend themselves. Every child deserves a life without fear.
Fatima Musa Yakubu,
Department of Mass Communication, Bayero University, Kano