‘No Easy Thing’: Rebuilding Hope In Conflict-Stricken Nigeria
PLATEAU, Nigeria — In 2021, an attack on Jebbu Miango, a rural community in Plateau State, Nigeria, left seven people dead and displaced hundreds. Among the displaced was Jennifer Danladi, a 10-year-old whose dreams of becoming a doctor were suddenly thrown into uncertainty. About 85 houses were razed during the attack, and for nearly a year afterward, the community remained eerily vacant.
As the dust settled, the consequences became painfully clear. Schools, small businesses, and places of worship within the agrarian community came to a standstill, as locals sought refuge in neighboring areas.
During that time, Danladi’s life stalled — her school uniform lay forgotten in a plastic bag under the camp bed where she slept at a relative's home in Jos, the state capital.
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Although she was still enrolled in school, Danladi could barely read due to the poor quality of public education in rural communities. In 2025, Nigeria allocated a meager 7% of its national budget to education, far below UNESCO's recommended 15 to 20%. Despite years of criticism over this consistent underfunding, there has been little to no change.
Danladi’s struggles reflect the dire situation faced by hundreds of children in conflict-affected regions of Nigeria, where the education system desperately needs reform. Many schools are understaffed and ill-equipped to meet students' needs.
Without a solid educational foundation, Danladi’s dreams began to fade. It was this poor state of education that shocked Kangyang Gana when she relocated to the community in 2019. Tired of the noise and pace of city life, she sought out a quieter environment — and that search led her to Jebbu Miango.
Gana, a Christian missionary, had just begun holding Bible clubs for local children when she noticed a significant language barrier: The children couldn’t speak English.
“When we began, all I could do was show them picture books and hope they could glean meaning from the colorful portrayals,” Gana recalled.
But Gana became restless watching the children — some already teenagers — struggle to read. In the following months, her Bible club evolved into a full-fledged afterschool program called Claire Aid Foundation, a nonprofit she launched to bridge the literacy gap in Jebbu Miango.
Gana said “claire,” the French word for light, was chosen deliberately to reflect Jesus’s command to be the light of the world.
From this vision emerged another: a library to host the after-school classes.
“Every community in Nigeria, no matter how rural, has a liquor joint or at least a football gaming center. But how many have libraries? So, I thought, why not build a library in this community so that children can read books and travel far in their minds,” Gana recalled.
For many children, this became their first and only contact with something resembling formal education. Claire Aid Foundation now provides a space for about 350 children to attend after-school classes on weekdays, where they learn basic grammar and numeracy.
The foundation also organizes an annual summer school, accommodating around 400 children who receive instruction in various subjects and are empowered with vocational skills such as bead-making, tailoring, and pastry-making. Chess games are used to enhance their critical thinking.
Over the last six years, about 10 students — including Danladi — have received scholarships to attend urban schools, inspiring hope in a region with a high rate of out-of-school children.
“When we ran from our village, I didn’t know what was going to happen next,” Danladi said, her eyes lighting up as she cast a shy glance at Gana. “But Aunty Kangyang helped me find hope again. She put me in a better school, and with the help of Claire Aid, I have now learned how to read. I’m going to become a doctor one day and help people, just like Aunty Kangyang has helped me.”
Yet Gana’s work has exposed her to another harsh reality — one that extends beyond academics. She discovered a troubling trend in the community: teenage pregnancy and child marriage.
“I saw a lot of girls in their teens getting pregnant. And once this happens, families threaten to disown them or give the girls the option of moving into the man’s house in an informal marriage system,” Gana told Religion Unplugged.
A complex mix of sociopolitical factors fuels this issue, not least of which is absentee parenting. In Jebbu Miango, it’s common for parents to leave their children for a week or more to seek work in Jos, about 17 kilometers away.
“The children are often left at the mercy of an aunt, older sibling or a father who doesn’t really care or doesn’t even know any better. Survival becomes the priority, while other important aspects of life are pushed aside,” Gana said.
Anita Musa was one such girl. Having never attended school, she was forced to act as a parent to her siblings in her parents’ absence. Gana told Religion Unplugged she enrolled Anita in private tutoring to prepare her for high school. Tragically, Anita became pregnant at 14 and was thrown out by her father. She left the community, and Gana’s efforts to find her have been unsuccessful.
Studies by BMC Public Health reveal that poverty, lack of education, cultural norms, and societal pressure are major drivers of teenage pregnancy globally. Poverty often pushes girls into transactional sex or early marriage, while limited access to education and reproductive health information increases their vulnerability.
Nigeria's weak child protection systems further enable child marriage. Despite the existence of the Child Rights Act of 2003, which sets the legal age of marriage at 18, enforcement remains inconsistent and ineffective, particularly at the state and community levels.
Gana once intervened in the case of Esther Sani, a Bible club student. Despite efforts to stop the marriage using the Child Rights Act, Esther, a Christian, was married off to a Muslim man under questionable circumstances.
Months later, Esther had a moment of clarity and questioned her situation. She contacted her mother, who reached out to Gana and her team. They rescued Esther and took her to a safe house. She later received a scholarship, completed high school, and is now pursuing college admission.
Still, Gana counts her losses — girls who became mothers or were married off while still children. Child marriage remains widespread in Nigeria. According to UNICEF, 44% of girls are married before the age of 18, totaling over 24 million child brides and placing Nigeria third globally in child marriage prevalence.
Yet Gana remains undeterred.
“Confronting any culture is a herculean task. It is like — I tell my team every week — it’s not a sprint. It is a marathon. The person that will win is the one who is consistent, the one with the most stamina to keep going. Because what we are up against is not an easy thing. It's a culture,” she said.
In response to the emotional toll of the 2021 conflict, Gana and her team began offering Bible-based therapy to children like Danladi who had experienced the violence firsthand.
Speaking about the signs of trauma, Gana said, “Children who didn’t typically wet the bed before the incident began to. I’d find children unwilling to go to school, unable to learn. Some lost interest in playing with friends, and their play often depicted traumatic events. That’s how I knew what was happening. They were projecting their trauma through play.”
Moses Ibrahim, now 19, knows that trauma all too well. He was just 15 when the 2021 attack changed his life. “We were forced to move from the village. It was a deeply traumatizing experience,” he recalled. His family’s home was among the few not destroyed in the attack.
For Moses, the violence didn’t just take lives and homes—it stole his future. His education was abruptly halted.
“In 2020, we couldn’t go to school because of COVID, and in 2021, the crisis forced me out again for another year,” said Moses, who did not want to be identified by his full name.
Even years later, he said he still struggles with flashbacks and a sense of loss.
“The memories still come sometimes, but I don’t let them define me anymore,” Moses said. “Thanks to Claire Aid, I’m back in school. I’m learning again, and I believe I can still build the future I once dreamed of.”
Gana continues to offer one-on-one support to children, providing a safe space for them to talk about their fears. For younger children, she uses play therapy to help them open up about the violence.
Still, Claire Aid faces significant challenges. Gana’s team of volunteers lacks the training to administer Bible-based trauma healing effectively, placing much of the burden on her. The foundation also lacks sufficient educational materials and has no sustainable source of income, relying heavily on crowdfunding and personal contributions.
Remarkably, Gana’s outreach extends beyond Jebbu Miango’s predominantly Christian population. She also reaches out to the neighboring Fulani Muslim community, which locals believe was responsible for the 2021 attack. Every year, she invites Muslim children to a Christmas party where she shares a message of hope.
Her efforts to bridge the literacy gap in a region scarred by interfaith violence have been surprisingly well-received, despite the lingering suspicion between the two communities.
Editor’s note: The names of some people quoted in this story have ben changed to protect their identities.
Ajifa Solomon is a journalist with speciality in copywriting, newswriting, features and creative writing