ON a cold August morning in 2014, Asabe* sat in an emergency family meeting called by her in-laws, barely two months after her husband’s death, only to be told to leave everything behind.
“They said I should leave the house, surrender the poultry farm, and hand over my husband’s accounts because they want me to remarry and move on with my life,” Asabe recalled, tears gathering as she sighed deeply.
According to Asabe, her husband’s family insisted that her father-in-law, as the eldest male, had the right to inherit all her husband’s property under the Berom cultural customs of the Du community in Plateau State.
Her case reflects a broader reality for many widows in Nigeria, where a study posits that fewer than 48 per cent inherit a majority of their husband’s assets. Most are left dispossessed, vulnerable, and often abandoned by the very families they married into.
Her case reflects a broader reality for many widows in Nigeria. According to a World Bank policy research paper titled Nutrition, Religion, and Widowhood in Nigeria, a study find that only 28 per cent of Nigerian widows aged 15–49 reported inheriting most of their late husband’s property. Although the study is over a decade old, its findings still resonate with Asabe’s experience.
When Asabe refused to remarry or surrender her rights, she was sent away with nothing but the clothes in her bag. Her children were forcibly taken from her.
“My husband had been my rock, my partner, and he really worked hard with an international company and earned a comfortable income that not only sustained the family but gave us a comfortable life,” she said.
Eventually, Asabe was able to reclaim her children and relocate to her parents’ village. With no steady income, she enrolled them in public school after landing a job at a local pharmacy, thanks to her mother’s help. Life remained difficult until her first son received an unexpected scholarship from the Naza Agape Foundation (NAF).
Asabe recalled that her first son was in Junior Secondary School (JSS-3) when he came home one day with the news that NAF had awarded him a scholarship covering his education up to the registration of his West African Examination (WAEC).
“It eased my burden, allowing me to focus on my younger son’s tuition and providing food for the family,” she said.
NAF was founded by Prayer Nwagboso, a mass communication graduate who discovered her calling while volunteering to teach at an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp in Plateau State for her final-year project.
“We started with just five children, but gradually, their interest grew. I noticed a strong eagerness to learn among them,” she said.
Since its launch in 2020, She said NAF has supported many children, including several who now attend university on scholarships.
She added that the foundation’s success has been made possible through the support and donations of individuals and organisations that have partnered with it and they have expanded to other states.
In a country with the world’s highest number of out-of-school children estimated at 20 million, efforts like NAF’s are filling critical gaps, particularly in underserved communities like Gyel in Plateau State.
When homes aren’t safe: a haven for survivors escaping abuse
In 2020, Favour*, then 13, was brought from rural Shandam Local Government Area to Jos by her father after her parents’ separation. He intended for her to live with his sister and attend a private school. But that promise was never fulfilled.
“Although my parents are separated, they both remarried to different partners. That’s why my father brought me to Jos, because his wife didn’t want me, and my mother is with her new family in Taraba State,” Favour stated.
She said her aunt delayed her enrollment in a private school for over a year, claiming it was because she wanted her to begin from the first term.
Favour, who had begun developing breasts at that age, revealed that her first cousin, who was over a decade older than her, would carelessly hit her on the chest whenever he got the chance.
“It was just me, him and his parents, one time he asked me to bring his dinner into his room. And he kept hitting me on my chest because I didn’t warm the food properly, but i never told my big mommy” Favour shared.
The girl explained that when her aunty traveled in 2023 to return in three weeks, her cousin attempted to force himself on her, prompting her to run away from home and start sleeping behind the house.
“That was where a neighbour found me after three days and called the Christian Women for Excellence and Empowerment in Nigerian Society (CWEENS) helpline to report the incident,” she added.
When her aunt returned from a trip, she scolded Favour for leaving, while her father rejected her for “shaming the family.” With nowhere to go, Favour was placed in Kamkpe House, a shelter operated by CWEENS.
“My big mommy was angry with me for leaving the house without waiting for her to return. She said I could no longer stay in her house, and my father rejected me as well for exposing the family,” she explained.
CWEENS was founded in the wake of violent ethno-religious crises that ravaged Plateau State between 2008 and 2010. The group’s national coordinator, a professor, Oluwafunmilayo Para-Mallam, said the organisation began with just six women.
“We started out as a group of six women, and began a 21-day-fast and then a massive peaceful protest tagged “Women -in-black”, a platform we used to call out the federal, state governments and the general public to take decisive action at ending the bloodbath across the state.”
One of its major interventions is Kamkpe House, a shelter in Jos named after the Pidgin word “Kamkpe,” meaning “solid”. The facility provides temporary housing, legal aid, trauma counselling, education, and skills training for survivors of abuse and conflict.
According to programme manager, Dirmicit Binyir Pyentam, the shelter has supported over thousands women and girls and welcomes boys up to age seven. CWEENS also operates in 14 Nigerian states and the FCT, with additional shelters in Nasarawa and Abuja
“CWEENS doesn’t only provide shelter for survivors, but it also provides legal and psychosocial support, empowerment programs, life skills trainings and girls mentoring schemes,” Pyentam, explained.
A second chance
Favour now attends a private school and continues to receive trauma therapy at Kamkpe House. Her family has refused to take her back.
Another survivor, Abigail*, 30, said she was on the verge of suicide after escaping sexual exploitation by her own mother in Kaduna State.
“I was living with my mother in Kaduna State, when my mother started pimping my older sister and I out to older men when I turned sixteen,” she revealed.
She fled to Jos, trying her hand at small businesses and menial jobs, but fell into debt. A friend referred her to CWEENS, where she received psychosocial support, debt relief, and vocational training.
“My failed efforts left me retraumatised. It felt like nothing was working out, and I was about to give up when a friend introduced me to CWEENS,” she said.
She said her debts were eventually cleared, and she was given an opportunity to improve her makeup skills. After graduating, Abigail received a small starter pack to support her business.
“I also learned bag-making while staying at the shelter. I sleep better at night after my sessions with the psychologist, and I feel empowered now that I have a stable source of income,” she enthused.
Names with asterisks were changed to protect them from further trauma.
Nanji is an investigative journalist with the ICIR. She has years of experience in reporting and broadcasting human angle stories, gender inequalities, minority stories, and human rights issues.