[Special Report] Forced into adulthood: Touching stories of young Nigerians carrying family burdens

On a humid evening in Lagos, 20-year-old Akomologbon Ibrahim returns home from his part-time job exhausted, his hands still dusty from the day’s labour. His siblings rush to him, asking about dinner, school fees, and the electricity bill. Ibrahim sighs quietly. Five years ago, he was just another secondary school student dreaming of university life. Then his parents died suddenly, and childhood ended overnight.

“I had to step into the role of a parent. Sometimes it hurts to give up my youth, but I have no choice. My siblings look up to me for everything,” Ibrahim told NewsClick Nigeria in an emotion laden interview

NewsClick Nigeria reports that while Ibrahim’s story is touching, however it is not unique. Across Nigeria, thousands of young people are thrust into adulthood by poverty, tragedy, or family crises, assuming roles far beyond their years. They become caregivers, breadwinners, and emotional anchors—navigating responsibilities that would overwhelm even adults.

Their stories reflect a larger crisis: a nation where child poverty and weak social safety nets push teenagers and even pre-teens into the frontline of survival.

According to a recent report by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), one in four children under age five worldwide is unable to access a nutritious diet. That adds up to 181 million young children in a state of what the U.N. agency calls “severe child food poverty.”

Financial Burdens at a Young Age

In the course of this Special Report, NewsClick Nigeria gathered that for some, the burden begins not with death of their parents or loved ones, but with economic hardship. Kafayat, now 22, grew up in Ibadan where her parents’ small-scale trading barely sustained the family. At 18, she realised she could no longer depend on them to fund her education.

“I started making my own money, selling cleaning products and supporting my school fees,” she said. “It gives me joy to know my sacrifice today will pay off tomorrow. But I admit—it’s difficult when you are so young and everyone depends on you.”

Her business, though modest, is a lifeline. Still, she struggles with capital and finds it hard to balance studies with entrepreneurship.

Similarly, Issa Nurudeen began hustling at 17 in Lagos. He worked at construction sites, carrying blocks and mixing cement, all to keep his younger siblings in school. “I haven’t seen myself as a youth for years,” he said. “Every day is about obligations. But I believe it is preparing me for the future.”

Loss and Sudden Responsibility

For others, tragedy accelerates adulthood. In Edo State, Osahon was just 13 when his father passed away. With his mother overwhelmed, he became the family’s breadwinner. “It was painful. I missed my own childhood,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t let my siblings suffer.”

In the southeast, Chiamaka was 12 when her father lost his job and her mother fell ill. She began hawking goods after school to feed her younger brothers. “I envied other girls who could just focus on school and play,” she said. “But seeing my brothers eat made me feel better.”

However, psychologists warn that this kind of early responsibility leaves long-term scars. “When children are forced to step into adult roles too early, they often struggle with identity, relationships, and mental health later in life,” said Dr. Esther Okonkwo, a child development expert at the University of Lagos. “They carry unprocessed grief and stress that follow them into adulthood.”

Coping Mechanisms: Finding Small Joys

Despite the crushing weight of their circumstances, these young caregivers find ways to cope.

Ibrahim plays football in the evenings. Kafayat throws herself into her business as a way to distract from her worries. Issa connects with friends online when he can. Osahon finds solace in music. Chiamaka sings and writes poetry to process her emotions.

“These little outlets remind us we’re still young, even if life forces us to grow up fast,” Chiamaka said with a smile.

The Bigger Picture: Child Poverty in Nigeria

Their personal struggles mirror national statistics. According to UNICEF, over 50% of Nigerian children live in multi-dimensional poverty, lacking access to education, healthcare, nutrition, and shelter. The National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) also estimates that 133 million Nigerians are “multi-dimensionally poor,” with children bearing the heaviest weight.

Cultural expectations often compound the problem. In many communities, eldest children—especially girls—are expected to step in when parents cannot cope. While this builds a sense of responsibility, it also robs them of education, play, and opportunities.

Hopes for the Future

Amid hardship, hope remains the fuel that keeps these young caregivers moving forward.

“I want my siblings to look back and say I gave them a chance at a better life,” Ibrahim said quietly.

Kafayat dreams of scaling up her cleaning-products business and funding her siblings’ education. Issa wants to become an engineer one day. Osahon hopes to return to school. And Chiamaka, despite everything, dreams of becoming a writer.

But they also carry a message for society. “We need guidance, mentorship, and real support,” said Ibrahim. “Not pity, but empathy.”

Chiamaka’s words were even sharper: “Even when children step up as breadwinners, they are still children inside. Don’t forget that.”

What Can Be Done?

Experts say that addressing the crisis requires more than sympathy. Policy interventions are critical:

• Strengthen Social Welfare: Nigeria currently spends less than 2% of its GDP on social protection. Expanding child grants, health insurance, and education subsidies could ease family pressures.
• Community Support Systems: Faith-based and community organisations can create safe spaces for young caregivers, offering mentoring, counselling, and material support.
• Education Access: Flexible school systems that accommodate working children, including evening classes and vocational programmes, can prevent dropouts.
• Mental Health Services: Free or low-cost counselling in schools and community centres can help children process trauma.

A Generation at a Crossroads

As dusk settles in Lagos, Issa reflects on his journey. “I know my life is different from other young people’s, but I believe one day it will all make sense,” he said. His words capture both the resilience and fragility of Nigeria’s young caregivers.

They are children forced into adulthood, carrying burdens that should never have been theirs. Yet in their resilience lies a story not just of hardship, but of hope—a reminder that with the right support, even the heaviest responsibilities can transform into stepping stones toward a brighter future.