Why do underage girls resort to commercial sex work as a means of survival when faced with difficult circumstances?
There is a popular saying: Do not judge people in situations you have never been in. In many ways, this sentiment holds true. Human beings sometimes make choices under immense pressure—choices that outsiders, observing from a distance, may struggle to understand.
Yet empathy alone is insufficient when the issue involves children. When teenagers are pushed into selling their bodies to survive, the question transcends individual decisions. It becomes a stark reflection of deeper failures within society.
Across Nigeria today, the growing visibility of commercial sex work is increasingly difficult to ignore. In major cities and smaller towns alike, young women appear at night along busy roads, outside nightclubs, and near hotels, waiting for potential clients.
Occasionally, the issue surfaces in news headlines—reports of prostitution rings, human trafficking networks, or arrests during police raids. For a few days, the topic dominates television debates and social media. Then, as quickly as attention arrives, it fades.
But once the cameras turn away, the reality on the streets remains unchanged. The girls are still there.
Nigeria has endured significant economic strain in recent years. According to the National Bureau of Statistics, headline inflation peaked above 34% in mid-2024 before methodological rebasing and policy measures brought it down sharply—to around 15.10% by January 2026. Meanwhile, youth unemployment and underemployment continue to affect millions of Nigerians aged 15–34.
For many families, survival has become a daily struggle.
Under such conditions, it is unsurprising that some turn to desperate means of earning income. Poverty has long been linked to the growth of informal and high-risk economies, including commercial sex work.
But while economic hardship explains the broader rise of transactional sex, it does not fully account for the most disturbing aspect: the growing number of underage girls entering the trade.
Because commercial sex work often operates in hidden networks, precise statistics are elusive. Nevertheless, reports from child protection agencies paint a troubling picture.
The National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP) identified 1,634 trafficking victims in 2023, including 841 victims of sex trafficking. In more recent reporting (covering periods into 2025), the agency and partners identified over 2,000 victims, with more than 1,000 cases involving sexual exploitation.
A nationwide survey supported by UNICEF found that one in four girls and one in ten boys in Nigeria experience sexual violence before the age of 18. Even more concerning, nearly six out of ten Nigerian children experience some form of violence during childhood.
Statistics reveal patterns, but they rarely capture the human reality.
I remember an experience that made this issue painfully real. In 2024, I travelled to Asaba, Delta State, for an event. After the day’s activities, my team and I took an evening walk to see the city at night.
At first, the atmosphere felt lively: streets bright with lights, music from lounges, and the typical energy of Nigerian urban centres after dark. But what we encountered was deeply unsettling.
Along Mac’sdon Street, near Inter-Bua Roundabout, young girls stood openly by the roadside, calling out to passing cars and men nearby. Their clothing was deliberately revealing, intended to attract clients.
What shocked me most was their age. Some looked no older than fourteen or fifteen. I turned to a local team member in disbelief. His response was casual: “Are you surprised? This is normal here. We see them every day.”
His words lingered long after that night. When a society normalizes children selling their bodies, something fundamental has broken.
Nigeria has laws to protect children from exploitation, including the Child Rights Act and anti-trafficking statutes. Agencies like NAPTIP are tasked with combating trafficking and supporting victims.
Yet the persistent visibility of underage girls in commercial sex environments raises serious questions about enforcement effectiveness.
Economic hardship is only part of the story.
Social pressures also drive vulnerability. The rapid spread of social media amplifies images of wealth and luxury, creating intense desires among youth. For teenagers with limited opportunities, the allure of quick money becomes dangerously appealing.
Without stable family support, education, or protective community structures, some girls fall prey to exploitative networks or relationships that gradually normalize transactional sex.
These forces—economic instability, institutional gaps, and shifting social values—create fertile ground for exploitation to flourish quietly.
Nigeria remains a major source country for human trafficking in West Africa, with networks documented along migration routes to North Africa and Europe. Protecting vulnerable children is thus both a national imperative and a global concern.
The situation demands urgent action.
If underage girls remain on the streets without meaningful intervention—access to education, protection, and viable economic opportunities—the long-term consequences will be devastating.
These girls are not mere participants in a hidden economy. They are children navigating circumstances that would challenge many adults.
If this trend continues unchecked, Nigeria risks raising a generation of girls whose childhoods were traded away before adulthood could begin.
To be continued.
