Dangers of a child bride.
Child bride means giving out an immature girl child for marriage.
Child bride happens because adults believe they have the right to impose marriage upon a child.
This denies children, particularly girls, their dignity and the opportunity to make choices that are central to their lives, such as when and whom to marry or when to have children.
Choices define us and allow us to realize our potential. Child marriage robs girls from this chance.
According to Gynecol (2009), he mentioned the dangers faced in early child marriages are isolation, depression, sexually transmitted disease (infection), cervical cancer, infant and maternity mortality.
After the marriage, girls have to do the role of a wife, domestic worker as well as a mother in her husband household.
Due to the huge age gap between husband and wife, there is the difference in mutual understanding resulting to the girls being rejected, isolated, and depressed while girls are immature and due to this, high frequency of child and maternal death occur.
Generally, husbands infect their wives. On one side, girls always try to prove their fertility and for that, they have a high frequency of unprotected intercourse with their husband while on the other side either the husband has prior sexual partners or a polygamous family.
The girls virginal status and physical immaturity increase the risk of HIV transmission, secondary to hymnal vaginal, or cervical lacerations. High death rates are found due to Eclampsia, postpartum hemorrhage, sepsis, HIV infection, malaria, and obstructed labour.
Girls below the age of 18years have small pelvises and they are not ready for childbearing. So morbidity and mortality rate are seen higher due to the young mothers’ poor nutrition, physical and emotional maturity, and lack of access to social and reproductive services, with a higher risk of infectious diseases.
They also tend to have a strong physical, intellectual, psychological and emotional impact, cutting off educational opportunities and chances of personal growth for both girls and boys. The consequences of child marriage are awful, especially for girls.
Though girls are generally forced for early childbearing and social isolation. As a result of this, child brides drop out of school and is exposed to higher risk of domestic violence and abuse, increased economic dependence, denial of decision-making power, inequality at home that further perpetuates discrimination and low status of girls/ women.
Furthermore, such practice of child marriage is directly impacting educational opportunities of young people. Once a girl gets married, she drops out of school and starts taking care of their in-laws at home and producing children.
Child marriage and early pregnancy affect women’s general health, their productivity, job opportunity and prospect for escaping poverty…
The major dangers involved are isolation & depression, the risk of sexually transmitted infection & cervical cancer, risk during labour and delivery of infants. It also has strong physical intellectual, psychological and emotional impact, cutting off educational opportunity and chances of personal growth for girls.
There’s also a chance of divorce, drop out from school, malnutrition, mental disorders, migration, domestic and sexual violence, abuse, discrimination, exploitation, the risk of HIV/AIDS and repeated pregnancies are also some of the highlighted dangers.
To protect your child from these dangers, then you have to say no to “child bride” giving out your children for marriage when they are not ready for marriage.
By Faith obasi
Life of a Lagos Single Sister (Endless Search)
Life of a Lagos Single Sister
Fast forward tertiary education and boom! Life happened! Like an unprepared Contestant at a beauty Pageant, you find yourself single and confused.
Everyone appears to be making it, while you barely exist. Everyone applauds your youth but that seems to be your only major achievement- young graduate.
‘You are young and bright. You have the energy, time and resources at your disposal. Give life your best…’- This and many more, they tell you but you are tired of such sermons.
You reach out to people, those you think can help but rather than highlight pointers for you, they make life a whole lot difficult-
‘Ah, my dear, this life is not easy o. You have to fight to win. Just keep doing the ‘right things’, I trust you. You’ll Make it.’
You are not too excited because that was not why you reached out in the first place.
Well, it is what it is. You try to be rational and explain away the responses you got. You tell yourself-
‘Uncle tszhhytbhytne probably has a lot on his mind. He is probably too busy. I shouldn’t blame him.’
You are back to your initial search and struggle for your life’s essence. You invest in your mental development and work yourself out.
You want to be self made – or so you think. You work, work and work some more.
It’s 10:00pm and you are still on your way home. It has become a daily routine. You are tired but you know you mustn’t give up. You reminisce on your days activities and you are not satisfied with all you had achieved.
You sigh, it’s another night. You promise yourself to push yourself harder the next day.
You close your eyes. You soak in your environment and breathe- You never cease to Breathe…
‘This too shall pass,
This too shall pass,
This too shall pass…’
This has become your life- Yes, you- the Lagos Single Sister…
Your love, now and always
Mercy Oluwafemi Adeniyi
All stories do come to an end.
And so has FIREBURST.
The 3 weeks long duel which kicked started with 16 writers have pulled the curtain with one champion emerging tops.
A hearty congrats to Mercy Adeniyi for an admirable performance.
We also congratulate all other participants
Coxson Ibinabo Benedicta, Sonia Ayisa, Amara Chidinma Ezediniru, Vicky Bon Uzuazor, Adebisi Temidayo, Innocent Chikweremundu, Mazi Chikelu Chino, Raphael Francis, Chinedu Nzere, Azubogu Ogochukwu, Ahanonu Christian, Adekunle Adeniyi, Ayomipo Ademilusi, Choolwe Writes.
You are all winners.
Gratitude to the impartial judges: Robert Cook(U.S.A), Gloria Ogo(NIGERIA), Ikechukwu Ndibe(NIGERIA)
Organicarticle is a platform that aims to promote education and the reading culture in Africa and Globally. it is an African story blog that accepts writers to display their writing skills too
THE FINAL DUEL
THE FINAL DUEL
For a battle which began with 16 players, today these two pen wielders will draw the curtain with the most rugged of all in the streets.
Let the best lady or man WIN with your votes
A 400-word story …based off the picture below and titled: Through her eyes
The RULES are easy
* Ensure to READ both stories
*Vote the one you think best interprets the picture.
Vote only ONE story
* No cajoling for votes. DO NOT influence public opinion.
* Feel free to LIKE, SHARE & TAG
Through Her Eyes…
‘You are despicable, devilish and I curse the day I met you!. I’ve known no peace ever since you came into my life! It’s trouble today and unrest tomorrow! I pray you rot in hell because that’s where the likes of you deserve to live for the rest of your miserable life!.’
He stormed out of the room, angry.
If only he knew why his wife acted the way she did. But how would he? How could anyone see Jasmine for who she was? Everyone was eager to judge but no one was willing to wear the shoes of another.
It is he who wears the shoes that know where it hurts the most. They didn’t care to know and the more she tried to show them, the more they caused her to drown. She had to leave. She picked a few things in the house and walked away from everything she hangs on to for strength. She had to let go…
Jade couldn’t believe his eyes when he got back home. Jasmine left the house with no message or notice of her whereabouts. This lady had messed up his life already, why did she want to hurt him again this night by leaving without a word as to where? Well, she’ll come back to her senses and come back home.
Three days and nothing was heard from Jasmine, she didn’t come back. Jade began to lose it. The police got involved and the search for Jasmine began.
Jade regretted his actions. He had constantly abused his wife emotionally. He thought to exert himself and showing her he was the boss was making a statement as the head of the home. For five years, he berated his wife – the supposed love of his life. Over time, he became the god in the home, while she was nothing but an object- a piece of property. But now, things were changing and he was willing to trade anything just to have her back.
On the fourth day of the search, he was arranging Jasmine’s room when he stumbled on a collection of books – Jasmine’s diary. His discovery was going to change his perspective and he was going to regret treating his wife the way he did.
He saw what life was for his wife for the very first time through her diary.
The discovery killed him…
Through Her Eyes…
1. In your face, I see an epiphany, though the wrinkles are deep. In your eyes that were once a dome of exuberant flashes, are flickers; they fly and flounder. Because they have seen the colour of broken dreams; because they know the bite of salted tears.
You are Mama, whenever I become afraid, I raise a lamp to your face and through your aged eyes, I see love.
2. ‘Nwanyi Crayfish!’
It made me cringe. To know that you would return every day with the smell of crayfish filling the little spaces of our impoverished room. It filled me with dread to hear my teacher say, ‘Nnanna, your mother is coming.’
And I carried this shame to the university. The day you came knocking at Lemon lodge, probably with ukwa and Mangala (my favourite). I took the other door and left you in the rain. Because I was afraid that my mates would know, that the boy who wore elegant suits and spoke impeccable English was the ordinary son of an ordinary crayfish seller.
3. ‘Everyday one wrapper, tufiakwa’
I never knew how deep those words cut you but I said them. I remember. I remember that you stood still for a minute and then ran into the house. I thought you went for a cane or something until I heard your cry, loud and spasmodic—the ululation of bitterness; it must have felt like losing a child.
4. ‘If papa was here’
I wish you had called me a fool the night I opened my shit eating mouth to say that. I was foolish not to see that you were the gentle river that ran deep.
I spent my eighteenth birthday inside the cell of CPS Onitsha.
I was in a cramped room, with other boys who smoked marijuana and some others who rolled dice for money. They came and bundled us into their Black Maria. I thought I would die.
But Mama came. They said that you made a bed with your wrapper and cried like a mad woman. They said that you rolled in the dirt and would go nowhere. They said that you were screaming, ‘I am a widow! He is the only thing I have left.’
So they let me go. That night you nursed my bruises with a piece of cloth and hot water. And I slept in your arms like a day old.
In your face, I see a web of silver yarns. Your skin is hanging loose and your back is bent. What is left of your gaunt frame is a bunch of bones stuck in an ebbing flesh.
But you are no longer the woman I despised. When I look through your eyes, the only thing I see is the spirit of a kindred, warm and luminous; full of the love that will remain long after you are gone.
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