The suffering of innocent children at the hands of aggression is not a new tragedy. It is a heartbreaking reality that dates as far back as the birth of Christ, the Saviour of mankind. From that time until now, vulnerable children—particularly those forced to beg on the streets—continue to face aggression, discrimination, and dehumanization.
These children are often met with hostility instead of compassion. When they stretch out their hands for help, they are sometimes beaten or chased away, treated as if they are less than human, as if they have no dignity. This is a direct affront to their humanity and a shameful reflection of our society’s failure to protect the most vulnerable.
Some months ago, the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) Minister introduced a policy in Abuja that restricts the movement of street children. While no Nigerian child with fully functioning faculties should have to resort to street begging, the deeper issue lies in what alternatives the government has provided. Education and healthcare are not privileges—they are birthrights. Yet these children are left to survive on the kindness of strangers, without meaningful state intervention.
The piercing questions that haunts us at the Uche-Nnamani Vulnerable Children Foundation are these:
Is education not their birthright? Has the government created sustainable hope for their future? Is there moral justification for banning them from begging without creating sustainable hope for their future?
Do these restrictions not breed trauma, exclusion, and even resentment in their young hearts?
How many real, impactful rehabilitation programs has the government implemented for them?
Policies that merely banned them from begging without addressing the root causes of their vulnerability only deepen their suffering. They perpetuate aggression—not with fists, but with silence, neglect, and systemic exclusion.
On this day, as the world commemorates the International Day of Innocent Children Victims of Aggression, we at the Uche-Nnamani Vulnerable Children Foundation raise our voice in solidarity. To every vulnerable child on the streets of Nigeria, we say: You are not alone.
We see you.
We think of you.
We are building a world where your vulnerability will never again be a reason for exclusion.
We dream of a Nigeria where every child is given the tools to rise, to learn, to grow, and to thrive with dignity.
You matter. And we will never stop fighting for your right to be treated with humanity, justice, and love
