
This is one of those topics that feels uncomfortable to talk about precisely because it sits somewhat uncomfortable between compassion and inequality. The moment you raise it some people assume you are judging the poor or speaking from a place of moral/societal superiority or simply even because you are privileged and maybe so to some extent, anyone who has food security and education is if we are being honest speaking from a place of privilege. But then again I gotta say acknowledging privilege does not automatically invalidate the question. It just means the question needs to be handled with honesty and care. I’ve found myself thinking about this same issue not out of insensitiveness but out of frustration . There is something deeply unsettling about watching people who are already stretched beyond their limits by society bring more lives into conditions that are clearly unbearable. When someone is severely poor, struggling to eat, struggling to pay rent, basically struggling to survive, having eight, nine, or twelve children does not magically become noble just because poverty is involved. Children do not arrive with built-in solutions. They arrive with needs , emotional and physical needs and when those needs cannot be met, the damage echoes across generations, the foundation does not only affect that family alone but society as a whole. This problem and yes, I consider it a problem is often framed as a “third world problem,” but that framing is dishonest. Yes, it is visible in poorer countries where education is limited, healthcare is weak, and the use of contraceptions is frowned upon and their stigma around it. In many of these places, women do not have real agency over their bodies.
In Nigeria, this conversation becomes even more uncomfortable. They are visible on the streets, at traffic junctions, under bridges, in overcrowded, underfunded classrooms, and sometimes in the headlines after violence has already happened. One cannot talk honestly about this issue in Nigeria without confronting the begging system. On the surface, it is often defended as a cultural tradition. But in practice, what it has become in many parts of the country is something far more troubling. Young boys, sometimes as young as five or six, are sent away from their homes to fend for themselves under no care. These children beg on the streets for food, sleep in unsafe conditions, and grow up without basic education. Whatever noble intention may have existed historically has been abandoned. What makes this especially painful is that many of these children come from families that already cannot cope. Parents with six, eight, ten, or even more children, with no steady income. This is where the link to extremism becomes impossible to ignore. A child who grows up hungry and abandoned/humiliated is not just poor, he is primed for anger. He sees other people probably the middle class by stuff for their kids and then he runs up to such people and begs for alms but is turned away, such a child grows up with hate in his heart and this hate is used by extremist to brain wash children and turn them to violent extremists.It is not an accident that regions with entrenched poverty, and large populations of abandoned children become fertile ground for radicalization.
This pattern exists in wealthy, first-world countries like the United States. The context is different, but the outcome often looks similar. There are families living below the poverty line, dependent on government assistance, raising multiple children in unstable conditions. In these cases, access to contraception exists and I believe education exists. And yet the cycle continues. That tells us this is not just about poverty or geography. It is also about long-term thinking. What makes this even harder is that children, once born, become the silent victims of adult decisions. They inherit stress before they inherit opportunity. Poverty creeps in silently because resources are already limited. That is the vicious cycle people are afraid to name because naming it sounds like blaming the poor. At the same time, it would be dishonest to ignore how systems benefit from this cycle. Governments provide just enough support to keep people alive but rarely enough to lift them out. In that sense, this is not just a personal failure or a cultural issue it is a policy failure. When education about reproductive health is inadequate, when contraception is politicized, when women’s autonomy is restricted, and when poverty itself is treated as a moral flaw rather than a social condition, the outcome is predictable.
I think the hardest part of this conversation is holding two truths at once. One, that many people in poverty are trapped by forces beyond their control. And two, that continuing to have children in situations of extreme deprivation often deepens that trap. Both can be true without cancelling each other out. If anything, this issue exposes how deeply unequal the world is. In first-world countries, poor decisions are often cushioned by social services. In third-world countries, the same decisions can be fatal. Yet in both places, children pay the price.