Silent Survivors in School Uniform

Most of the children in government primary schools across South-West Nigeria are not just pupils — they are silent survivors.

Many of them are children sent from distant, less-privileged rural communities to live with young couples in the city who “need help.” But the help they give is far beyond what any child should carry. Before the sun rises, they are already awake — sweeping, washing, cooking, bathing younger children, running errands. They labour like adults long before they wear their school uniforms.

Some of them arrive at school by 8:30am or 9:00am — not because they are lazy, but because that was the earliest they could escape from the morning’s workload. Some must first take their foster parents’ children to school before rushing to their own. And when they finally arrive, tired and breathless, they are met not with understanding, but with strokes of the cane for coming late.

On certain days, they are not allowed to attend school at all. Their education depends on whether the household schedule permits it. If the “original” children are on break, these ones stay home to care for them. If exams clash, they miss theirs so they can supervise others. Their dreams are postponed so someone else’s can move forward.

They walk kilometres to school — hungry, with no lunch, no books, torn uniforms, worn-out sandals. Some have nothing in their hands but hope.

It breaks my heart. Many times, I fight back tears. Sometimes I pick them up on the road just to drop them closer to school, wondering — how can a child under ten, living under your roof, look so neglected? How can buying exercise books worth ₦1,000 feel like too much for a child placed in your care?

These children did not choose their circumstances. God placed them in our hands.

I want to plead with our women, our mothers, our families — please help us raise these children with dignity. You may not have plenty, but the little you give can change a life. A book. A pair of sandals. A meal. A kind word. A little attention.

Sometimes, that small kindness is the difference between a broken future and a hopeful one.

Whatever you give to these children, you give to the Lord. Let us not fail them.