Remi Adeoye

Niger Delta Crisis: Women and Children of the Creeks Pay High Price for Nigeria's Oil

by Remi Adeoye
- Nigeria -


There is stiff opposition to the proposed Niger Delta Summit slated to be held in Abuja, Nigeria. The Delta’s most prominent militant group, known as The Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), called it a “circus,” and "a face saving measure” by the slow-moving Yar'Adua administration to show that it has a plan to solve the area’s problems. The line of battle has been drawn between the federal government and the militants, with tensions increasing after the deployment of more soldiers and two naval warships to the oil-rich Delta, which militants described as a “callous, wicked attempt to wipe the Ijaw nation from the face of the earth.”


The environmental devastation from installations like this one in Ikot Ada Udo has left nearly everyone living off the land without a livelihood. Photograph by Kadir van Lohuizen/NOOR.
But the problems in the Niger Delta are taking on a new dimension. It is now becoming more and more dangerous for the area’s women and children to live and work in peace. Their lives are defined by poverty; from afar they watch as the rich expatriates live comfortably from the proceeds of their land. They watch as their village heads collect bribes from both the oil companies and the government while they get nothing. They watch as their men become militants, kidnapping the rich and making money for the struggle.

To the indigenous Egi women of Ijaw, it is crucial that more come out of the Abuja summit than political posturing. As the women say, “We are farmers, fisherwomen and hunters. With all the flaming and pumping oil into our swamp areas, the oil companies have denied us every living thing. Today, we have no hope, while they are making billions of naira with our gifts from God. They don’t care or hear our cry; they only throw tear gas on us, beat us, and drive us out of our land.”

Nigeria’s Recent State Elections Hold Little Promise for the Country’s Street Children

by Remi Adeoye
Nigeria


As early as 5am, a very young boy named Tunji is awake. At eleven years old he knows what it means when one says, “no work - no pay”. Searching under the two shirts he uses as a pillow, he pulls out a sachet of pure water and uses it to rinse out his mouth quickly. He uses the rest to wash his face and he is ready to go. Even without a wristwatch, Tunji instinctively knows he hasn’t spent more than 10 minutes getting ready for work.

From under the Ikeja bridge, which serves as his home, he walks as quickly as his little legs will carry him to the park hoping to find work for the day. He gets there just in time to displace another boy two years older than him. Lucky once again, Tunji has secured money for the day as a contracted conductor on a commercial bus. After a whole day’s work, he is only entitled to 500 Naira (US $3.99). But for Tunji, the meager amount makes his portion of daily bread and survival possible.

BlogHer Ad Network
More from BlogHer
Advertise here
BlogHer Privacy Policy

RECENT ARTICLES

Arts & Culture
Economy
Education
Politics
Science
Special Election Coverage
Technology
The WIP Editorial
The World