Let Her be More: A Child Bride is still a Child.

Photo Credit: Chidy Young from Unsplash

 

October has many celebrations, like Nigeria’s independence, my birthday and the International girl child’s day. I hate to draw connections, but I am too superstitious to think of it as a coincidence. It must be my fate to tell women's stories.

But you must forgive me this once for I have no story, just reality. 

It is 2025, the year of the Lord. We are wiser, more woke. It is easy to think that some things are relics of the past. Like the conversation I have just witnessed. Instead, they are still very much part of our present—sadly. 

I went off to some random shop to register my SIM. It was one of those second missionary journeys that you go after the first one has failed. I regretted my choices. I should have just gone to the Glo office and done it once and for all. Instead, here I was, going again and hoping I will not shout too much. The man denied me at first. It should be my first sign. 

I was born and bred in Onitsha. These things are not new to me. I am even more woke after my last experience. There was no need to lose my breath on this one. I showed him my phone. I had transferred the money to his account. The receipt was in my phone. And his. He grumphed. I don’t think he liked the turn of events. He grumphed again and told me to wait. I sat and waited patiently for his attention. It was divided. He had chosen my precious time as the best moment to call all his girlfriends. I didn't judge. I did begrudge his lack of creativity. A fake English accent and the same line for all the girls. I cringed. He could do better. By the time he was done, there were a lot of us waiting (which coincidentally were all girls). The calls left him in a good mood, he became chatty. He had a lot of stories to tell (not to me anyway since I was not story-tellable at that time). But he told others. I listened. 

Photo Credit: Alexander Mass

He wanted a girlfriend, a wife. He wanted us to connect him to any of our friends. 

He said he was in his late thirties. He wanted a girl in her late teens. "Ka respect m diri m," he said. So he will not lose his respect. He was willing to extend to early twenties but not more. Not more. “The rest lie about their age.” They just want a man—any man—to absolve them from their sin of being unmarried. They are desperate. Old. And very knowing. They have known the world, known its ways.  “No, I don't want them.”

To prove his point, he spoke of a former girlfriend, a girl he dated for a few months. Unknown to her, one of her previous admirers was his friend. She had given this former admirer a different birth date from the one she gave him. He had asked her, “how can you have different birthdays?” He didn’t wait for her reply, he knew.  She was one of the rest. 

At my second decade attempt, I have come to find that I still do not know many things. I am easily confused. And I struggle to understand seemingly simple things, like this man’s logic. Why a full grown man would be looking for a teenage bride? If he really wants to be respected, why can't he earn it like every other person? And if he lacks faith in himself, in his capacity to earn it, why should he feel entitled to it? Or expect more from a girl—at the risk of her future? 

Phot Credit: Promise Uzoma Okoro

As if that was not enough, a story trended recently of a 62 year old chief marrying a 16 year old girl. He had allegedly met her at 15 but 'magnanimously' waited another year to marry her. 

I don’t even want to go into the recent Regina Daniels and Ned Nwoko drama.

What I find most confounding and baffling is why the Somalian men protested against the ban of child marriage in their country. A man had even made a video crying about how the abolition robbed him of his rights.

Someone pour me cold water. Wake me up. 

No matter how much I try to be objective and reasonable to see through their justifications, my brain fails me. It is as if there is something clogging it, stopping it from processing these fine details. And just when I think I am beginning to grasp it, this thing drills a gaping hole and all the justifications fall away. I see it for what it is. 

A righteous anger swells in me. It is the year 2025, forghusake! 

Photo Credit: Gemini AI

You, who is more objective and rational, ask, “what if these brides are willing. A few must be. What if it's their choice?” 

I agree. After all, you’ve been tempted to drop out of school at some point in your life. You were certain it was the right decision. But you finished, somehow. And you are glad you did. Your adult self thanks you for it. 

You are insistent. After all, women have been married off early from time immemorial. I let you count a few brides whose marriages did just fine, you would count my Grandmother and Godmother, maybe two or three others. I would count the rest. 

Because we are living at a different time from our parents and their parent’s parents. Because it doesn’t change the fact that the child is still a child, barely old enough to understand the implication of her choices. You are as smart as you are objective. You do not press further. 

It is now easier for us to agree on the need to empower our girl children to make better choices. We should teach them to dream, to lead, to aspire for more, to be more than just a bride. Don't take her voice and give her singing lessons. Don't bind her legs and take her swimming. Don’t cut her wings and expect her to fly. If our girls are better educated and exposed, they will be better equipped to make the right decision—the ones most compatible with who they want to become. They will be less likely to become prey, victims of petty justifications. They will be better. They will be more. 

To every Rose that grew from Concrete: Blossom!