Showing posts with label Child Rights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Child Rights. Show all posts

Monday, 30 January 2023

Ripple Effects of Poverty: Child Marriage

Photo by Dick Scholten on Pexels

by Grace Anaja

Child marriage is a plague that affects millions of girls all around the world. The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) describes child marriage as 'any formal marriage or informal union between a child under the age of 18 and an adult or another child.' In countries like Niger, Nigeria, and Central African Republic, 36% of girls are married before age 18, and 10% are married before age 15. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights also states that marriage must be entered by individuals who are fully consenting and at full age.

Monday, 17 August 2020

When No One Is Looking

Picture of a woman holding a moon
Photo by Gantas Vaičiulėnas from Pexels

As long as I can remember, I have always cared about the issues that affect Africa, Africans, and people of African descent, with special focus on how these issues affect women and children. Even as a child in primary school, I can remember expressing anger at people who treated women and children poorly and standing up for the girls in my class. It would not be far-fetched to assume I was born this way, having what can be described as a gnawing need to lend my voice to women's and children’s issues.

Thursday, 24 November 2016

The Child Labor Dilemma

📷: Fortune
I have always been against children working; and by working, I don’t mean house chores. I believe that children shouldn’t have to hustle or work for the upkeep of their families. I want a world where children are allowed to have their childhood, to go through the motions of finding themselves, to have puppy love, and then formulate principles for their adulthood. This is because ‘adulting’ is hard and a lifetime work. I want children to enjoy their childhood before adulthood comes a-knocking.

Saturday, 21 February 2015

Children Should Not Hustle!


Young girl hawking sachet water.
Image: The Guardian

The little girl ran up to me, somehow balancing the crate of boiled eggs on her head and trying to keep her falling wrapper in place. Her feet were clad with slippers that were well worn and designed with holes. She couldn't have been more than eight years old and as she reached me, the smell of her unwashed body repulsed me more than she could have imagined. As she raised her head to ask if I wanted the eggs, I had a full view of her face.