The recent disclosure by the Federal Medical Centre (FMC) in Owerri that over 73,000 young women in Imo State have tested positive for HIV is not just alarming, it is a national emergency. This stark figure reveals more than a health crisis; it exposes the cracks within our societal, cultural, and institutional foundations. When the future mothers of a nation are under siege from a preventable illness, the entire nation's well-being is at risk. This epidemic isn't confined to Imo State. Across Nigeria, similar trends point to a widening crisis fueled by poverty, inadequate healthcare, widespread ignorance, and a collapse of family and moral values. This isn't merely a governmental or healthcare failure, it's a reflection of systemic societal decay.
What was once regarded as an urban vice, commercial sex, often disguised as "runs", has now become a widespread and deadly phenomenon. Many of these young women, aged between 15 and 29, are victims of dire circumstances: fractured homes, economic hardship, peer pressure, and the romanticization of sex work on social media. The choice to survive through transactional sex is rarely a choice at all, it is often the only perceived option in a landscape void of opportunity.
This painful reality underscores a deeper economic disillusionment. For many, HIV is the price of a meal or temporary shelter. This isn’t about morality, it’s about survival. It is a reflection of a nation failing its most vulnerable.
The stigma surrounding sex work and HIV remains a major barrier. Fear of judgment often prevents young people from seeking testing or treatment. This is where society, government, faith-based organizations, traditional leaders, and civil society, must move from condemnation to compassion. Shame cannot cure disease, but education and empathy can.
There is an urgent need for a nationwide push for comprehensive sexual health education. Our schools must go beyond abstinence-only messaging to include real discussions about consent, contraception, protection, and self-worth. Silence has fostered ignorance; ignorance has led to preventable deaths.
As a country, we must ask ourselves: what kind of future are we building if our youth are consumed by diseases born of today’s failures? This crisis is not just epidemiological, it is moral, existential, and generational.
A national response must include strengthening healthcare infrastructure to ensure free, confidential HIV testing and treatment in every local government area. NGOs and state actors must also deploy mobile awareness campaigns, distribute free condoms, and establish peer support networks. Prevention is not only humane, it is cost-effective.
Economically, youth empowerment must become more than a campaign slogan. Skill acquisition centers must be functional, well-funded, and capable of offering realistic alternatives to survival sex. Access to mentorship, startup grants, and digital opportunities can reroute young people toward safer, sustainable paths.
The National Agency for the Control of AIDS (NACA) must engage more meaningfully with influencers, community leaders, and media voices that resonate with young Nigerians. Campaigns must speak the language of the streets, relatable, raw, and real.
Religious and traditional institutions must evolve from judgment to redemption, offering sanctuary and support rather than silence and scorn. Leadership must meet people where they are, not just in temples and palaces, but in the streets and schools.
Above all, the federal government must declare this surge a national emergency. This is not just a public health issue, it’s about the survival of the nation. A country with wounded wombs cannot birth a thriving future.
As the African proverb warns, “When the roots of a tree begin to decay, it spreads death to the branches.” If we do not act now to heal and protect our young women, the roots of our future, we risk losing the entire tree.