In a community in Kaduna State, three young women whose schooling was cut short by early marriage are helping other married women learn to read and write.
Early marriage continues to shape the lives of countless girls in Kaduna State, particularly in the Kaduna North senatorial zone. The 2021 Nigeria Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey found that 45.3 per cent of women aged 20 to 49 in Kaduna had married or entered a union before the age of 18, while 18.3 per cent had done so before turning 15. The Kaduna General Household Survey painted a similar picture, revealing that more than 30 per cent of girls in Kubau Local Government Area were married before the age of 15.
The consequences extend far beyond marriage, often cutting short girls’ education and limiting their opportunities for the future. The 2026 Kaduna State Out-of-School Children Mapping identified 187,719 children aged three to 17 who were out of school across the state’s 23 local government areas. Boys accounted for 57 per cent of the total, while girls made up 43 per cent. Children aged six to 11 represented 65 per cent. Of the children identified, 60.2 per cent had never enrolled in school, while 39.8 per cent had enrolled but subsequently dropped out. The Kaduna North senatorial zone accounted for 51 per cent of the total.
In Bugau, a community in Damau Ward of Kubau Local Government Area, these statistics have human faces. Inside a modest classroom, a young mother sits with a toddler on her lap and an open book on the desk before her. Around her, women in colourful hijabs follow their teacher as he reads from the blackboard and asks them to repeat each line. Motherhood has not extinguished their desire to learn. Four times a week, from 8:30 a.m. to 10 a.m., they gather to practise reading and writing in Hausa and English.
Bugau is a community where many girls are married off soon after reaching puberty. Education is widely regarded as more important for boys, while girls are expected to marry, bear children and manage their homes. Basira Isah, now 15, knows this expectation firsthand. She married at 13 and moved to Bugau to live with her husband.
Originally from nearby Mabuga, Basira began primary school but stopped attending in Primary Three after the teachers, who travelled from other villages, ceased coming. With no school to attend, she stayed at home and helped her mother sell kunu, a traditional drink, at the market. Later, her father chose a husband for her. Despite her reluctance, she eventually went along with the decision.
Her family’s position on girls’ education was unequivocal.
“In our household, my family do not believe in educating girls. They only sent my brother to school. He has now finished secondary school and continues his education in a different town,” Basira said.
When she asked why girls were not allowed to study, she received no satisfactory explanation.
“There was a general belief that educating girls was not useful and that it was only beneficial for boys,” she explained.
Hadiza Danjuma’s experience followed a similar course. She married at 14 after leaving school in Junior Secondary School Two. With only one school in Bugau, she had moved to Damau, about 10 kilometres away, to continue her secondary education. When her future husband first expressed his intention to marry her, she was 13 and told him she was not ready. She spent another year in courtship before her father decided it was time for the wedding.
Hadiza described a community where the opportunity to complete even basic education depends heavily on family circumstances and parental attitudes.
“In Bugau, honestly, not everyone finishes school; some only finish primary school. For those whose parents are resilient, and if the girls start school at an early age, they are the ones who might finish primary school, JS 1, or JS 2 before getting married,” she said.
Zainab Shehu, now 14, was the first girl in her family to progress to secondary school. Yet her education also ended in Junior Secondary School Two when she was married off. A suitor first noticed her while she was returning home from school. She did not reciprocate his interest, but when she was just 12, he approached her parents to ask for her hand in marriage.
Zainab recalled the lengths she went to avoid unwanted advances.
“At that time, honestly, whenever a suitor came, I would just run away. I wasn’t interested in chatting with men. Even if you greeted me, I wouldn’t answer you; I would just pass by. And if anyone visited me at home, I would just say my greetings and sit down, that’s all. I wouldn’t talk to you; you’d just get tired, stand up, and leave,” she said with a smile.
Today, these three young women are turning their experiences into an opportunity for others to reclaim the education they lost. After receiving training in literacy and the importance of education from the Participatory Communication for Gender Development (PAGED) Initiative, they established a learning programme for married women in their community.
PAGED is a non-profit organization that promotes inclusion and equity in Nigeria. Through participatory communication, it seeks to amplify marginalized voices, empower communities and encourage women and men to work together towards gender parity.
For Basira, Hadiza and Zainab, the training rekindled a desire to learn that years of interrupted schooling and domestic responsibilities had left unfulfilled. It also inspired them to become advocates for education within their community.
Zainab recalled how the intervention changed their outlook.
“After the meeting we had here, we saw that truly, education is very important for women. We already had the desire, but due to our living conditions, there was nothing we could do but endure. Honestly, the arrival of this organization renewed our hopes,” she said.
With the support of their husbands and Bugau’s traditional leader, the three women began visiting households, encouraging married women who had left school to return to learning. They also found a teacher living in the community who could teach them to read and write in Hausa and English.
The community’s traditional institution has supported the initiative. Malam Ibrahim Adamu-Bugau, Bugau’s community leader and a teacher himself, said PAGED had strengthened efforts already underway through the Bugau Educational Development Association (BEDA).
He expressed regret that many girls who had started school never had the opportunity to complete their education.
“All of them started school, but by God’s will, as rural people, they couldn’t complete even secondary school. They were married off, and now each of them has given birth,” he said.
Although he acknowledged that religious perspectives on early marriage differ, he stressed that marrying girls while they are still in secondary school restricts their education and personal development.
Adamu-Bugau initially opened his home for the literacy classes, providing a place for the women to gather and learn. However, as participation grew, the arrangement became increasingly difficult to sustain. He is now seeking support to provide essential learning materials, including exercise books, writing implements, whiteboards and textbooks.
“As a teacher myself, we are considering how to supply basic materials, whiteboards, writing tools, and books that they can use to learn writing and reading,” he said.
Finding a suitable and consistent learning space has been one of the programme’s biggest challenges. After leaving the community leader’s home, the women moved to an Islamic school near the primary school, but the school management was not receptive to their presence, forcing them to relocate. A government primary school subsequently welcomed them, but its pupils and the adult learners needed the same classrooms at the same time.
Another Islamic school was identified, although the women are permitted to use its facilities only during school holidays. The community is now working to develop a timetable that will allow the classes to continue without interfering with regular school activities. More teachers are also needed to strengthen instruction and allow different educators to contribute their subject knowledge.
Despite these challenges, the programme, which began in February, recorded encouraging progress within its first two to three months. Some participants who previously could not identify the English alphabet can now recognise letters and spell their own names.
Habiba Ibrahim, 21, is among those experiencing this transformation. She completed primary school and hoped to proceed to secondary school, but community expectations intervened, and she was married instead.
About a year ago, a friend told her about an adult literacy school. Habiba sought her husband’s permission to attend, and he agreed. Since joining the classes, she has begun developing the reading and writing skills she missed the opportunity to acquire as a girl.
“Before, I couldn’t read Hausa properly. But now, Alhamdulillah, I can write and read,” she said.
The progress is evident in her everyday life. When her children need to buy items from the shop, she writes down what they should purchase and sends the list with them. A skill that once seemed beyond her reach has become part of her daily routine.
For Asiya Muhammed, who has been married for five years, the classes offer an opportunity to develop skills she missed out on during childhood. She is learning to read, write, spell words and recognise numbers.
Being able to use a mobile phone with greater independence has become another measure of her progress. Previously, women who could not read often relied on younger relatives to identify phone numbers and tell them who was calling.
“Anytime I see someone speak English, I feel motivated. That’s why I ensure I come to school so that one day I can also speak good English,” Asiya said.
She also believes that educating women benefits their children. As mothers are often responsible for helping children with schoolwork at home, she sees literacy as a way to become more involved in their education.
Muhammad, another participant, shares that determination. Having missed out on education in her youth, she wants a different future for her children. She encourages them to attend school rather than spend their days playing or hawking on the streets.
For the women of Bugau, returning to education means learning to balance lessons with trading, childcare and household responsibilities. Their progress may be measured in the ability to read a phone number, write a shopping list or help a child with homework, but these achievements carry significance beyond the tasks themselves.
For years, their opportunities to learn were constrained by interrupted schooling, early marriage and expectations about the roles women should occupy. Now, they are rebuilding their confidence, acquiring practical skills and encouraging other women to do the same.
Their classroom remains vulnerable to shortages of teaching materials, limited space and an uncertain timetable. Sustaining the initiative will require continued community support, adequate facilities and resources to meet the women’s learning needs.
But in Bugau, education is no longer only an opportunity that these women imagine for themselves. It is something they are actively pursuing while helping others reclaim it. Their stories show that marriage and motherhood need not mark the end of learning, and that the opportunity to return to the classroom can open doors that were once closed.
By Umm e Habiba, Pakistan.