If the Nation Is Not Bleeding, Its Families Are – Beyond Children’s Day: Are Nigerian Children Truly Safe?

Are Nigerian Children Truly Safe?

Every year, Nigeria joins the rest of the world in marking Children’s Day.

On that day, many homes, schools, churches, mosques, and social media platforms celebrate children through beautiful photographs, heartfelt messages, colourful activities, songs, and expressions of hope for the future.

And rightly so.

Children represent innocence, possibility, trust, and the future of every nation.

Yet, beyond the celebrations and cheerful expressions lies a painful reality many Nigerian families are quietly living through right now.

But not every parent is celebrating.

While many Nigerians are sharing joyful moments with their children, some parents are battling fear, uncertainty, sleepless nights, and deep emotional pain. Their children have been abducted from schools and communities across parts of the country.

In recent weeks, reports of kidnappings in Oyo State and parts of Northern Nigeria have once again shaken the conscience of the nation. In one incident that drew widespread public attention, dozens of children, including very young pupils, were reportedly abducted. Among them were a nursing mother carrying a child under one year old, two-year-old Christianah Akanbi, and three-year-old Sikiru Salami.

Some realities are simply too heavy for words.

Children who should be learning alphabets, singing nursery rhymes, sleeping peacefully beside their parents, and growing within safe communities are instead growing up surrounded by fear, violence, and trauma.

Behind every headline are real human beings.

Real children.

Real parents.

Real teachers.

Real homes, bleeding quietly behind closed doors.

Sadly, these are no longer isolated incidents.

According to Save the Children and UNICEF, more than 1,680 schoolchildren have been abducted from schools and surrounding communities in Nigeria since the Chibok abduction in 2014.

Documented attacks over the years have involved schoolchildren across Kaduna, Niger, Zamfara, Kebbi, Borno, Katsina, and other parts of Northern Nigeria. In several cases, entire communities were left traumatised while parents waited helplessly for news of their children.

Recently, reports from Borno State described coordinated attacks in which dozens of children, including toddlers, were kidnapped during violent raids on schools and nearby communities. Some children reportedly fled into surrounding bushes and villages; others remained unaccounted for.

In another widely reported incident, 303 students and 12 teachers were abducted from St. Mary’s Catholic School in Papiri, Niger State. The students were aged between 10 and 18 years old.

 

What does it say about a nation when children and schools become targets of fear and violence?

How does a mother sleep, knowing her child may be in a forest tonight?

How does a father find the heart to celebrate Children’s Day while wondering whether his son or daughter has eaten, cried through the night, or survived another day?

 

Perhaps even more painful is the emotional and psychological burden many of these children may carry long after rescue operations end.

Reports surrounding the Oyo incident revealed deeply disturbing experiences involving some of the affected children and school staff. Some children were reportedly exposed to horrifying acts of violence carried out before them, experiences no child should ever witness or carry in memory.

One of the most heartbreaking aspects of the Oyo incident was the killing of Michael Oyedokun, a mathematics teacher, who was beheaded by his abductors. A man who walked into a classroom that morning to shape young minds, nurture dreams, and build futures. Someone who never imagined that simply showing up to teach would cost him his life.

 

Beyond that immediate tragedy lies another painful concern: when teachers become victims of violence, the entire educational system begins to suffer.

Some teachers may begin to fear going to work.

Some parents may begin to fear sending their children to school.

Some children may gradually begin to associate education with danger instead of hope.

 

And perhaps that is one of the most dangerous things any nation can allow.

No child should grow up carrying memories of terror instead of memories of safety, laughter, care, and protection. Long after physical rescue efforts are concluded, many affected children may continue to battle fear, anxiety, nightmares, emotional withdrawal, and silent wounds that could follow them into adulthood if real, consistent emotional support is not provided.

If the Nation Is Not Bleeding, Its Families Are

Behind every abducted child are parents carrying invisible wounds that words may never fully describe.

Some mothers are crying silently.

Some fathers are staring at empty chairs, not knowing what to say.

Some are praying and hearing only silence.

Some are trying to remain strong while falling apart on the inside.

Some are staring at old photographs, wondering whether they will ever hold their children again.

This is more than insecurity. It is a crisis of emotional and psychological devastation tearing through families and communities.

This is a humanitarian emergency that demands national reflection and urgent action.

At such a moment, I turn to Her Excellency, Senator Oluremi Tinubu CON, First Lady of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Not simply as First Lady, but as a mother. As a woman who understands what it means to love a child and fear for their safety.

Your Excellency, there are mothers in this country who have not slept properly in weeks. There are fathers staring at empty chairs at the dinner table. There are children who came home changed, carrying things in their eyes that no child should ever have to carry. These families are not statistics. They are people. And they need to feel that this nation sees them.

This moment calls for more than policy. It calls for a nation that shows up with compassion, wraps its arms around affected families, and moves with real urgency to protect what matters most.

Our children. Our schools. Our future.

I also appeal, from the same place of deep concern, to the Federal Government, the Oyo State Government, governments across all affected states, security agencies, community leaders, and religious institutions. And to every Nigerian reading this: we all have a role to play. Protect the children. Secure the schools. Support the families who are still waiting. And build the kind of communities where no child ever has to grow up in fear.

A nation where children live in fear is a nation facing a dangerous future.

A nation where teachers are unsafe is a nation where education itself is under threat.

Children’s Day should not only be a day of celebration. It should also be a moment of honest reflection, a moment that forces us to ask difficult questions about the future we are building, and whether the children we claim to love are truly safe.

Each time we mark this day across Nigeria and around the world, let us also remember those currently living in fear, captivity, displacement, trauma, or silence.

Let us pray for them.

Let us stand for their protection.

Because not every parent is celebrating.

And until every Nigerian child is truly safe, protected, and free to dream without fear, our celebration remains incomplete.

— Mrs. Oyinade Samuel-Eluwole

Mrs. Oyinade Samuel-Eluwole is the President and Founder of the Elizabethan H&H Foundation. She is a social and development impact advocate committed to child protection, emotional wellbeing, and healthier developmental outcomes for families, boys, and men in Nigeria.

Author

  • Mrs. Oyinade Samuel-Eluwole, MBA, ACIP, FERP, MCIoD is the Founder and President of Elizabethan H&H Foundation, a humanitarian organisation dedicated to the emotional wellbeing, development, and restoration of boys and men.


12 thoughts on “If the Nation Is Not Bleeding, Its Families Are – Beyond Children’s Day: Are Nigerian Children Truly Safe?

  1. This really hits deep. Children deserve more than celebration for one day — they deserve safety, care, and a future they can look forward to.

  2. The question remains: Are Nigerian children truly safe?

    Beyond the celebrations, there are parents carrying invisible wounds, children living through unimaginable trauma, and communities struggling with fear. May we never become so accustomed to these realities that they stop touching our hearts.

  3. This is a message every Nigerian should read… Protecting our children must remain a national priority… A heartfelt call for compassion.. action.. and accountability…Our children cannot wait…

  4. A nation’s true achievement is seen in how well it protects its children. Until every child is safe, loved, and given the chance to thrive, our work remains unfinished.
    This is a beautiful Piece.

  5. A deeply moving and necessary message. We cannot keep celebrating our children while ignoring the fear, trauma, and insecurity many of them face daily. Every child deserves safety, dignity, education, and the freedom to dream. Until that becomes reality for every Nigerian child, our collective responsibility remains unfinished.

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