An Open Letter to the Nigerian Mother Who Is Struggling to Survive
Dear Nigerian Mother, I see you. I see you waking up before the sun rises in Nigeria, not because you slept enough — but because responsibility does not wait. I see you calculating money in your head before your feet touch the ground. School fees. Food prices. Transport fare. House rent. And somehow, you are expected to make everything work. You carry more than a handbag. You carry a family. Some days you smile in front of your children so they will not see the fear in your eyes. Some nights you lie awake, wondering how tomorrow will happen. The price of food rises. Fuel increases. Bills multiply. But your strength remains. You may sell in the market. You may run a small shop. You may work long hours as a cleaner, trader, teacher, or businesswoman. You may even do unpaid labor at home that no one applauds. Yet you keep going. You stretch one meal into two. You turn little into enough. You sacrifice your comfort so your children can have a chance. Let me tell you something importan...