“In ban san gobe ba, na san yau.” I may not know what will happen tomorrow, but I know what is happening today.
And today, only weeks after marking the International Day of the Girl Child, Nigeria is once again confronted with a truth it refuses to address: the girl-child remains unprotected, unheard and unsafe.
The abduction of schoolgirls in Kebbi State is not an isolated case. It is the latest reminder of a pattern that began long before now and has worsened over time. The 2014 Chibok abduction should have been a national turning point. Instead, it became the beginning of a cycle. Ten years later, 82 of the 276 girls taken from Chibok remain missing. Since then, Nigeria has witnessed the abduction of 110 schoolgirls in Dapchi (2018), 279 in Jangebe (2021) and dozens more in Birnin-Yauri, Tegina, Kagara, Afaka, Kaduna, Niger and Taraba. In total, more than 1,400 schoolchildren have been abducted across the country since 2014, a majority of them girls.
These incidents expose a deeper crisis: insecurity in Nigeria is gendered. Armed groups understand the social, cultural, and emotional weight attached to girls. Targeting them generates fear, cripples education systems and destabilises communities. Another Hausa proverb captures this clearly: “Idan kura ta yi kamu, tana kama marar kariya.” — When the hyena attacks, it goes for the one without protection. That is exactly what is happening. Rural girls have become the unprotected in a system that consistently fails them.
The vulnerability of the girl-child begins long before an armed group arrives at a dormitory fence. Poverty restricts her access to safe schooling. Harmful gender norms push her towards early marriage. Underfunded and poorly governed education systems leave her exposed. When insecurity is added to the mix, the result is a complete erosion of her chances to learn, lead, or contribute meaningfully to society.
The government’s response remains largely reactive and repetitive. After each abduction, Nigerians hear the same phrases: “We condemn this act,” “security operatives have been deployed,” “we are committed to the safe return of the victims.” Yet, year after year, the underlying problems remain unchanged. Many schools in high-risk areas are still without proper fencing, lighting, trained security personnel or early-warning systems. Policies exist, but implementation is inconsistent and often superficial.
Meanwhile, the burden falls on families. Parents who already struggle to keep their daughters in school must now weigh education against survival. Mothers who fear early marriage for their daughters must also fear armed men who see girls as bargaining tools. Communities that once viewed education as a pathway out of poverty now see it as a potential threat to their children’s safety.
A country cannot claim to prioritise girl-child empowerment while failing to protect the basic environment where a girl learns. Nor can it celebrate international awareness days while ignoring the lived realities of the girls those days are meant to highlight. The gap between government rhetoric and on-ground reality is widening, and girls are the ones paying for it.
Nigeria needs to move beyond symbolic responses to a structural approach. Strengthening school security should not depend on public outrage. Community-based protection systems should not be an emergency response but a permanent fixture. Trauma support for survivors should be standard, not optional. Most importantly, the government must accept that girl-child security is not a luxury; it is a constitutional duty.
At this point, Nigeria is not short of evidence, only short of will. The pain felt by parents, the fear gripping communities, and the futures being stolen from girls should have been enough to force action years ago. Yet here we are repeating tragedies that should never have become routine. If the country truly values its daughters, it must prove it through policy, protection and accountability, not statements issued after each attack. Because the proverb has warned us clearly: “Ginin da tushe ya lalace, komai da ka gina a kai ba zai daɗe ba.” When the foundation is rotten, nothing built on it will stand. If Nigeria continues to ignore the safety of its girls, it is not just their futures that will collapse; it is the nation itself, and this time, no one will be spared the consequences.
