Forced Marriage, Rape, and the Silence of a Survivor in Nigeria’s Borno

When she was 11, Zainab’s* father forced her to marry his friend’s son in Gwoza, Borno State, northeastern Nigeria. She suffered years of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her husband. 

“After marriage, I suffered physical violence and assault from my husband whenever we disagreed,” she recounted. “After the first day we became intimate; I bled so much I thought I was going to lose my life. I had vaginal tears, and his mother, Hajiya, had to take me into her room to stay till I had healed.”

After a few weeks, Hajiya asked Zainab to return to her husband’s room since he had stopped talking to her and had promised to retaliate badly if his wife did not return to him.

“I have suffered from vesicovaginal fistula ever since the first year of marriage. It has remained consistent even till now. It gets worse during my pregnancies,” Zainab said. A vesicovaginal fistula (VVF) is an abnormal connection between the bladder and the vaginal wall. Millions of women worldwide live with this condition, but those in less developed countries bear the greatest burden, often enduring the weight of emotional trauma. 

Fleeing Gwoza to more trouble

When Boko Haram attacked Gwoza, Zainab was forced to flee her home with her husband and three children to seek refuge in Adamawa State. Her husband later abandoned her and their six children, and Zainab became a shadow of herself. She has resorted to sending her children to the streets for daily living, and the estranged husband occasionally returns without offering support.

“I used to go with my friends to people’s houses and do house chores for a monthly payment of ₦5000,” she told HumAngle. “It didn’t meet my and my children’s daily needs. So I got another job selling rice grains for a woman who had a large quantity. I made between ₦200 to ₦500 daily.”

“Although it wasn’t much, we are often lucky to get grains from well-meaning neighbours and other philanthropists in the community. We don’t bother much about oil or tomatoes; we just add salt and seasoning to the food, and it’s okay for us to eat. I used to buy charcoal or firewood to cook, but it has become very expensive now. My children gather the seeds of doum palm fruits and other waste plastics in the community, and we use that for cooking energy,” said Zainab.

When she thought her woes could not worsen, fortune threw her another miserable hand a few months ago.

“I was on a journey one day to transport some rice for my madam from Fufore [a town in Adawama North LGA]. On our way back, the car got spoiled on a lonely road. It was already getting dark, so the driver went to look for help from a neighbouring community. There were three of us, women and three men. Maybe they knew each other, but they ended up raping the two of us while the other lady ran away.”

After that night, Zainab couldn’t tell anyone her story and went home filled with anger and hurt. Life has to go on, and although she found it hard to cope the first few days, she needed to get over the sorrowful events to provide for her children.

“I was trying my best to cope with everything that was happening to me, but I kept getting sick. It was really bad, and I had no money to go to the hospital. I would meet a girl who stays at the pharmacy close to my house to give me drugs on credit, and sometimes she would have to give me some drip,” she added.

A friend who knows her closely told HumAngle, “Zainab has always been very chatty and lively since I knew her. But recently, I noticed how very quiet and reserved she is. After she was getting sick repeatedly, I began to suspect that she had taken in. I convinced her to take a test in the pharmacy, and the pharmacist confirmed she was indeed pregnant.”

Her friend went on to confirm that she had lost all spark over the past weeks and was constantly in a depressive mood.

“I don’t know what to do about my current predicament, but I cannot keep this child. My husband may decide to come back at any time, and if he finds out about it, he will surely kill me, or worse, he will make sure he spoils my name before everyone he knows until the shame leads me to kill myself,” Zainab said. 

When HumAngle asked if she had tried to separate from her husband, Zainab replied, “I spoke with the community head here in Waurro Jabbe. He empathised and promised to help if I decided to separate. He said I could call him anytime to arrange for guards to detain my husband during the process. But he also warned me about the consequences: without a husband, I’d become vulnerable to other men, and my children would suffer without a father. After thinking it through, I decided it’s better to keep the covering of a husband, even if he’s irresponsible.”

According to the World Health Organization, approximately 35 per cent of women worldwide have experienced sexual violence. Yet, victim blaming, which is a common tactic, continues to be used to silence and discredit survivors. 

Now in her late thirties, Zainab has borne the trauma of forced marriage and being raped continuously by her husband, and now, she has to live in shame and hiding for a crime that was committed against her. Sexual Gender-based violence has remained persistent and pervasive in Nigeria’s North East, which requires a multifaceted approach to engaging both men and women whilst promoting education, awareness, and empathy.

*The victim has been anonymised for her safety. 

This report was produced as part of the 2024 HumAngle Accountability Fellowship, with support from MacArthur Foundation.