14–18: Hardship Pushes Lagos Teenage Schoolgirls Into Prostitution

Escalating hardship and its crushing effects leaves many Nigerians with deadly alternatives. PUNCH Healthwise investigations expose how the situation has pushed Lagos teenage schoolgirls from low-income families into prostitution as they struggle to survive, SODIQ OJUROUNGBE reports

In the heart of Mushin, one of Lagos’ most chaotic and crowded neighbourhoods, stood a rundown hotel that had become a silent witness to a darker side of the city. The air around it was thick with the smell of sweat, desperation, and broken dreams. This was no longer just a hotel, it was a refuge for many teenage schoolgirls who had been swallowed whole by the city’s unrelenting hustle. The sign above the entrance, with its faded letters reading “White House,” looked out of place next to the decay around it.

Inside, the walls, once bright and welcoming, were now cloaked in layers of dirt and neglect. The cheerful colours that had once adorned the rooms were faded, and peeling, as though time itself had turned its back on this place. What remained were the echoes of lives lived in limbo, trapped between survival and discomfort.

It wasn’t a place anyone chose to stay, but for some girls, it was the only choice left. The hotel is now a pleasant home for them — the price of survival paid with their bodies.

There, sitting on the chipped, faux-leather couch at the hotel’s reception was Arike Mayowa and her 15-year-old friend, Abidemi Kosoko.

Mayowa, just 16 years old, appeared much older. Her frame, delicate and childlike, seemed to carry the weight of the world. Her posture hunched slightly as if trying to shield herself from the constant pressure of reality bearing down on her. Her skin, once smooth and radiant, now carried the weight of exhaustion, she looked pale, ashen in spots, and dotted with the faintest traces of neglect.

Her face, framed by unruly hair, looked like something trapped between innocence and despair. Her bright pink lip gloss, glossy and fresh, contrasted sharply with the weariness that clouded her eyes.

After being introduced by the hotel manager, David who had unknowingly crossed paths with our correspondent the night before at a club during this undercover investigation, Mayowa was eager to share her story.

Recounting her journey to this filthy hotel, Mayowa said she had left her hometown of Ilaro in Ogun State at just 15 years old, driven by the harsh realities of poverty.

She stated that her family was struggling to make ends meet, and couldn’t provide for her anymore.

She said she came to Lagos, Nigeria’s bustling metropolis, in search of a better life.

She narrated that she was working for a woman who exploited her vulnerability at a popular place in Mushin called Ghetto, a notorious hub for drug peddlers,

“Recently, the police and NDLEA were coming to arrest drug peddlers at Ghetto. The raids were becoming more frequent. So, we had to scatter. That was when I met my friend, and we started contributing N3,000 daily to stay here. It is a hotel, but it is not safe. Men come and go, and you do what you have to do to survive,” she stated.

The World Bank’s Nigeria Development Update report in October showed a bleak outlook on poverty in the country, disclosing that over 129 million Nigerians now live below the national poverty line.

Worrisomely, the World Bank’s latest report on Macro Poverty Outlook also indicated that low labour income had pushed an estimated 14 million Nigerians into poverty in 2024 amid rising inflation.

Nigerians have continued to lament the worsening hunger nationwide and wondered when the country’s ballooning rate of inflation would slow down.

Abandon schoolMayowa, the last born in a family of four, said the situation at home made her leave her family very early even without completing secondary school.

“My family couldn’t take care of me anymore. There was nothing left at home. My parents were struggling so badly, they couldn’t even afford to send me to school. I felt like I had no choice but to leave.

“I thought maybe if I came to Lagos, I could find work, a way to send money home. But it didn’t take long before I found out that people here, especially women like me, are treated like nothing,” she lamented.

When asked when she intended to stop, Mayowa said she was doing that to survive and also to save up so that she could start a business.

Mayowa, who claimed to sleep with at least seven to ten different men in a week, added that she engaged in daily contributions and also used part of the money to take care of the daily three thousand naira being paid to the hotel owner as rent.

She said, “I want to be selling wares and all, so, I am saving a lot of money so that I will be able to start my own business soon.

“I make money depending on the person. But for a short time, you have to pay me between five thousand and seven thousand and you will be allowed to do one round, and I also give you head.

“For daybreak or you want me to be with you for a longer period comes with extra charges and I charge based on who is taking me, the least I can take for that is ten thousand or more.

“Many of us don’t wish to stay here, but the reality is there and we need to survive. Although I have not been sending money home, my wish is to start sending money in months to come.”

Hardship as the driving force

Mayowa’s story, sadly, is not an isolated one. Investigations by PUNCH Healthwise uncovered a disturbing trend in motels and hotels across Lagos State.

Findings showed that young girls, driven by poverty and hunger, are forced into prostitution to survive.

For five days, our correspondent went undercover to some hotels and motels located in Mushin, Bariga, Yaba, Obalende and Surulere, where some of these teenage girls were seen in revealing clothes, hanging around corridors and bars, waiting for ‘clients’.

These underage prostitutes popularly called ‘Monke’ on Lagos streets were forced into prostitution to survive.

From conversations with more than ten of these girls, PUNCH Healthwise observed that economic hardship has become the driving force behind the ugly trend, tearing families apart and fuelling an alarming rise in out-of-school children.

It was discovered that most of these girls come from low-income families, where parents struggle to provide necessities. Their homes are often characterised by overcrowding, limited access to education, unstable income, and lack of social support.

Across Lagos, PUNCH Healthwise found that an alarming rise in the number of out-of-school children could be traced to families facing economic hardship.

Many of these children, like Mayowa and her friend, are girls who drop out of school to support their families in any way they can.

With limited access to education and a lack of social safety nets, these girls face an uphill battle that often ends with them losing their futures to the desperate realities of poverty.

According to the United Nations Children’s Fund, 40 per cent of Nigerian girls are married before age 18, and 20 per cent are forced into prostitution.

Poverty, lack of education, and desperation have created a perfect storm, fueling an alarming rise in out-of-school children.

UNICEF revealed that one in three Nigerian children is out of school. This totals about 10.2 million children at the primary level and about 8.1 million at the junior secondary school level.

The global organisation identified the agglomeration of administrative, economic, and socio-cultural factors as causes of the alarming rate of out-of-school children in Nigeria.

Torn between survival and sacrifice

In Mushin, a dense, overcrowded neighbourhood in Lagos, economic hardship is a daily reality. This area, like many others across the city, is home to families caught in poverty, where survival is a daily struggle.

For many young girls, the pressures of this harsh environment lead them to make choices no child should ever have to face. Among them is 17-year-old Funmilayo, whose life, much like the streets she walks, is filled with obstacles, sacrifices, and deferred dreams.

When our correspondent first met Funmilayo, she was standing at the entrance of one of the motels that house many of these teenage prostitutes. Her young face betrayed the exhaustion of a life lived in the margins.

Funmilayo agreed to accompany our correspondent to a nearby hotel and mentioned that she was willing to offer sexual services to him and his fixer, provided they were willing to pay her a fair amount for it.

At the hotel, she revealed that she had little hope of escaping the poverty that trapped her.

“I dropped out of school in SS1. I had to because My mum was struggling, and we didn’t have enough to eat. I couldn’t keep up with school. My family needed me,” she lamented.

For Funmilayo, the challenges started long before her school days ended. She said her father passed away when she was just a young girl, leaving her mother to raise her and her siblings alone.

With no steady income, Funmilayo said her mother struggled to keep their home afloat.

She lamented that their house in Mushin is cramped, with barely enough room for the five of them to sleep, let alone live with any sense of comfort.

“My mum is a widow. It’s just me, her, and my younger siblings. We don’t have much. Sometimes, we don’t even have enough food to eat. I do what I can to help her. I do it for my family,” she explained.

Despite working as a cleaner at a private hospital, where she earns just 30,000 naira a month, Funmilayo stated that the salary is barely enough to cover the most basic family needs.

She lamented that the cost of living, compounded by a lack of proper education and social support, means she has to find other ways to survive.

“I use the money I make to buy food for my family. But it’s not enough. That’s why I do other things,” she stressed.

The “other things” she refers to are part of a reality that no young girl should have to face.

To make ends meet, Funmilayo said she turns to the streets, where she sells her body for money.

“I never wanted to do this. But what can I do? My mum needs help, and my siblings need to eat. I do it because I don’t want to see my family suffer. It’s the only way I can help,” she expressed with tears dropping from her eyes.

At just 17, Funmilayo’s childhood was lost to the struggle for survival. Every day is a battle between cleaning floors at the hospital and walking the streets at night to make money.

“My mother is aware I am doing this. A lot of times she will call me just to know my movement, I don’t hide anything from her because she is the only one I have and I can talk to,” she concluded.

In Surulere, our correspondent met 16-year-old Bukola, who has been in the process of selling her body for two years.

Bukola told PUNCH Healthwise that her parents struggle to make ends meet, adding that they were unaware of her situation.

“I started doing this two years ago. My parents couldn’t afford to feed me.”

“I wanted to help my family. But I didn’t know what else to do. A friend introduced me to this.

“I was scared at first, but then I realised it was the only way to survive,” Bukola said.

When asked about the kind of people she sleeps with, Bukola said her clients ranged from young men to older ones.

“I do different kinds of men so far they are ready to offer me better money. I also have sex without protection if the person is ready to pay well for it.

“As I am, I engage in a daily contribution of N3,000 and I have to look for ways to make money so that I can be able to pay. I am doing this so that I can support my family in the little way I can,” she stated.

The Enablers

Findings by PUNCH Healthwise revealed that some of these hotel owners, and motel managers profit from the exploitation and suffering of these young girls.

The investigation led our correspondent to eight hotels and motels with many owners profiting from the misery of these young girls, and turning a blind eye to their suffering.

In every hotel and motel visited, it was observed that there was a club, where young girls were exploited as bait to lure men into patronising their businesses.

These clubs transformed into hunting grounds, where men preyed on vulnerable girls, some barely 13 years old. The atmosphere reeked of exploitation, as teenage girls, dressed in revealing attire, were objectified and reduced to mere commodities.

Men flocked to these clubs, enticed by the prospect of cheap thrills and expensive drinks. The price tags for these drinks were exorbitant, but the real cost was borne by the girls, whose innocence and dignity were sacrificed for financial gain.

Our correspondent witnessed girls, visibly underage, being subjected to sexual advances and harassment. Their bodies were objectified, their smiles forced, and their eyes vacant.

One hotel owner, when confronted, shrugged off the exploitation.

“We are just providing a service, we are not the ones that asked the girls to come here, and nobody is underage here, don’t be deceived by their young looks” he said, his tone devoid of empathy.

A motel manager admitted to knowing the girls’ ages but claimed helplessness.

“It is because you have patronised us here and I like your vibe that is why I am telling you this. Truly, many of them are homeless and instead of them just being on the street where they are susceptible to rape, we decided to accommodate them by collecting little money like three thousand daily from them.

“Yes, some of them are below 18, but you can’t know except if we tell you. We can’t afford to lose our business,” he confessed.

Similar stories unfolded in Yaba, Bariga, and other areas visited by PUNCH Healthwise.

Our correspondent met 15-year-old Tolani in a cramped hotel room in the Yaba area of the state.

Her eyes seemed to carry the weight of countless untold stories, and her gaze appeared far older than her 15 years.

“I was 14 when I started. My parents couldn’t afford to feed me, so I ran away from home. A friend introduced me to this life. I can’t afford to die of hunger,” Tolani expressed in Yoruba.

She said her family numbering seven lived in a small apartment in Ojuelegba.

She revealed that her father was a struggling trader, who barely made ends meet, and her mother was a petty trader.

Source:- Punchng