There was a time it felt like a curse to be a girl-child.
Her day begins as the cock crows. As she forces her tired body to begin the day’s routine, she hears her brothers’ steady breathing. Those older than her would even change their sleeping position to a more comfortable one as she watches them with envy. Iry, the only girl among five siblings, said that at such times, she used to curse the day she was born a girl.
During harmattan, as she opened the door, the harsh reality of what awaited her would force its unwelcome embrace all over her. At this point, Iry said she would have to remind herself that the faster she was, the better, because it would reduce the amount of time she would spend in the biting cold.
The worst case scenario, according to Betzom, the eldest girl in a family of nine, was starting fire during the rainy season. Several times, she cried in the morning when the firewood refused to cooperate no matter what she did. She remembered days her mother lost patience and gave her the beating of her life. Her offence was that by 6:30 a.m., the firewood had not caught fire, which meant that bathing water was not on heat.
Unfortunately, Betzom’s mother always did the magic, and in no time, the fire would be blazing, making Betzom look bad. She said she felt treated as a second-class citizen in her father’s house. Because she was a girl, she had to wake up at dawn while everyone slept except her mother—to fetch water from the well and fill every container, start the fire and heat bathing water, help prepare breakfast and sweep the house and compound. All this while her younger siblings slept. In spite of everything, she would be the last to bathe, last to go to bed and last to be served food.
Like other girls, Betzom was not allowed to have leisure time. It was acceptable for her brothers to play football or table tennis, but not for her to engage in any sports outside school. She was not allowed to socialise for fear that she might become ‘loose’ and bring ‘shame’ to the family. This made her timid and eroded her self-esteem and confidence. Her brothers, however, were her opposite.
Overburdened with house chores, Betzom had very little time to study. Consequently, her brothers performed better academically. It was not until her senior years that she caught up with her male counterparts—and that was because she became a live-in student.
Another lady, Ladi, shared a similar story. She felt like a second-class citizen because her mother used to make her wash her brothers’ clothes in addition to doing all the house chores. She vividly remembered how her mother would send her to ask each brother what he wanted to eat while they relaxed in the sitting room playing games or watching films. Her mother ensured she prepared whatever each of them wanted, even if it meant cooking four different dishes.
“My male siblings were treated like princes while I was treated like a maid,” Ladi lamented.
“It was so bad that one day I asked my mother if I was adopted. I wanted to know why she was so hard on me. But her explanation was that she was preparing me for my husband’s house. I cried so much because it felt as if there was no hope for me,” she said.
Mary’s story was even more heartbreaking. A hardworking girl living with her parents, her life changed when one of her aunts asked to take her in. That decision ended her education and turned her into a housemaid.
“My normal day began at 4:00 a.m. and ended by 9:00 p.m. I started each day by lighting the fire to heat water during the school term, then fetching water to fill three big drums by 5:00 a.m. I would wash plates, dirty clothes, prepare breakfast, and sweep the house. By 6:30 a.m., I would wake my cousins, serve them food, and clean up after them. Afterwards, I went to my aunt’s restaurant to cook and sell food,” Mary said.
These routines continued for seven years until her father visited and saw her condition.
“He was angry that I was working like an animal. But what made him angrier—and made him end my stay with my aunt—was the fact that she never enrolled me in school. I was only good as a maid or worse because I was not paid or treated well. I used to dress in rags despite the long hours I worked every day,” Mary lamented.
By the time her father took her home, she was 18 years old. The harm had already been done. She was a stark illiterate because even what she had learnt earlier had faded from memory. Her father was heartbroken. Soon after, a villager came asking for her hand in marriage, and she agreed. She was married off, her dreams and aspirations completely dashed.
Another young girl narrated how she went to live with her maternal uncle, her mother’s younger brother, who turned her into a sex slave at barely 11 years old. His wife never suspected, perhaps because they were close relatives. By age 14, she said her uncle had aborted about 20 pregnancies for her right under his wife’s nose. Before she turned 15, she ran away because she could no longer bear it. But she could not return home because her mother would never believe her. So she became a prostitute to survive. Later in life, she turned over a new leaf and got married, but the trauma left deep scars.
The girl-child is overburdened. She is denied equal opportunities with her male counterparts and, in many societies, cannot inherit land, property or her parents’ or husband’s wealth. Her path to fulfilment is tumultuous, with many still believing she only needs training for her husband’s house.
The examples are endless—of how the girl-child has been maltreated even by her own parents, or reduced to a foot mat simply because she is a girl. She is made to clean after brothers who feel superior. The boy-child, on the other hand, is often spoiled rotten—and this has become a menace in today’s society.
We prepare the girl-child for marriage, but she may end up marrying a brat of a boy-child who has no respect for women and feels superior to them. What a foundation on which to build a family! No wonder the family structure is crumbling and the society fractured.
We must return to the drawing board to address these issues. The girl-child must be given her pride of place and due respect in the family and society.
This year’s theme, ‘The Girl I’m, the Change I Lead: Girls on the Frontlines of Crisis’, calls for a paradigm shift—a sober reflection to change the narrative of the girl-child in Nigeria for the better.