By Abraham Amah

The revelation that over 73,000 young women in Imo State have tested positive for HIV, as confirmed by the Federal Medical Centre (FMC), Owerri, is not just a health emergency—it is a social, moral, and national alarm bell. This figure, stark and unsettling, underscores a deep rot festering beneath the surface of our cultural, economic, and institutional frameworks. When the future mothers of a nation are threatened by a preventable disease, the very soul of that nation is in peril.

This disturbing trend is not isolated to Imo State alone. Similar reports have emerged from other geopolitical zones, indicating a growing and perhaps deliberately ignored epidemic. It reveals a potent mix of poverty, ignorance, broken health systems, unchecked sexual exploitation, and the disintegration of moral and family structures. What we see is not just a failure of government or health policy, but a societal collapse of protective values.

Sex hawking, often glamorized or hidden behind euphemisms like “runs” or “coded runs,” is no longer a mere urban social ill—it has metastasized into a silent killer. These young women, mostly between the ages of 15 and 29, are often victims of circumstances beyond their making: broken homes, economic despair, peer pressure, social media glamorization of sex work, and lack of reproductive education.

One cannot separate this development from Nigeria’s broader economic disillusionment. Youth unemployment, underemployment, and a lack of viable livelihood alternatives have led many into transactional sex as a means of survival. It is a painful truth: for many young girls, HIV is the cost of eating today. This is not a narrative of immorality but a testimony of systemic failure.

The stigmatization of sex workers and HIV-positive persons further complicates the situation. Many fear seeking help, testing, or treatment due to shame and discrimination. As a result, transmission continues unchecked. This is where the state, religious institutions, civil society, and traditional authorities must rise above condemnation and embrace compassion and realism. Shame has never cured a disease—education and empathy have.

To stem this tide, there must be an urgent national mobilization for sexual health education at all levels. Curriculum at secondary and tertiary institutions must include practical, relatable sex education—focusing not just on abstinence but on consent, protection, consequences, and choice. Silence has bred ignorance, and ignorance has led to death.

Philosophically, we must re-examine what kind of nation we want to build. Are we content with building megacities while the souls of our children are decaying in backrooms? Are we truly advancing if our youth—the carriers of our tomorrow—are consumed by diseases of today? This is a moral crisis wrapped in an epidemiological blanket.

Cosmically, every generation stands at an existential fork. For Nigeria, this may be one of them. If we cannot protect our daughters, sisters, and future mothers, we are not just failing them—we are dismantling the future of our country. Our collective energy must realign from blame to healing, from shame to solutions, and from apathy to action.

Remedial action must include the strengthening of health infrastructure for free, confidential, and accessible HIV testing and treatment centers in every local government area. NGOs and state governments must also distribute free condoms, conduct mobile sensitization drives, and create peer support groups. Prevention is cheaper than treatment, and education is cheaper than funerals.

Economically, the government must rethink its youth empowerment strategies. Skill acquisition centers must not be mere campaign slogans but functional platforms offering real, scalable alternatives to sex trade. Access to startup grants, business mentorship, and digital employment can help re-route many from high-risk lifestyles.

The National Agency for the Control of AIDS (NACA) must partner more dynamically with influencers, religious leaders, and local champions to destigmatize HIV and promote behavioral change. There must be national campaigns that speak the language of the streets—not sterile bureaucracy, but raw, relatable reality.

Religious and traditional institutions must shift from fire-and-brimstone reactions to proactive roles in healing the moral fabric of society. The pulpit and the throne room must stop pretending the streets don’t exist. Real leadership means guiding both the saint and the struggling.

Finally, the federal government must declare this surge in HIV among young women as a national emergency. It is not just about disease control—it is about national survival. A country whose womb is infected cannot give birth to a healthy future. The time to act is now.

In the words of the African proverb: “When the roots of a tree begin to decay, it spreads death to the branches.” Nigeria must save her roots—our young women—if we are to stand tall as a tree among the forests of nations.

Elder Amah is a Public Affairs Analyst and Commentator

— Sarah Meyssonnier

FT Editorial Board

Opinion The Financial Times View.

THE EDITORIAL BOARD

President Bola Tinubu has stabilised the economy and laid the groundwork for a broader recovery – Sarah Meyssonnier

“Halfway through the first presidential term of Bola Tinubu, who completes two years in office this Thursday, Nigeria is in better shape than at any time in the past decade.

That may come as a surprise — or even sound like a sick joke — to tens of millions of Nigerians who are suffering the worst cost of living crisis in a generation”.

For years, Nigeria has been not so much a sleeping giant as a comatose one. Home to nearly one in five sub-Saharan Africans, its market of 230mn people should be an engine of continental growth. Instead it has been a drag, stuck in an oil-dependent rut, plagued by banditry and run by a political elite bent on self-enrichment. It is hardly surprising that all but a few investors may have missed the fact that Nigeria has turned a corner.

Halfway through the first presidential term of Bola Tinubu, who completes two years in office this Thursday, Nigeria is in better shape than at any time in the past decade. That may come as a surprise — or even sound like a sick joke — to tens of millions of Nigerians who are suffering the worst cost of living crisis in a generation.

Yet Tinubu, a former governor of Lagos and the country’s wiliest politician in a generation, has stabilised the economy and laid the groundwork for a broader recovery. This year, the World Bank expects growth of 3.7 per cent, in what would be Nigeria’s best performance since 2014 save for a post-Covid rebound. Most ordinary Nigerians won’t feel that yet. But it is a decent performance when oil prices are weak. The tiny green shoots have come because Tinubu’s government has tackled — albeit in often haphazard fashion — debilitating structural distortions.

On day one Tinubu removed a ruinously expensive fuel subsidy. More important still, the central bank has restored monetary policy orthodoxy after a shambolic era in which only cronies with access to cheap dollars benefited. After a dangerous overshoot, the naira has stabilised, with the gap between the official and black market rate shrinking to almost nothing.

The central bank has stopped printing money to pay for government profligacy. Politicians still spend too much, often on fripperies like an extravagant presidential jet, but at least the government has begun to increase tax receipts.

Investors do not live in constant fear of a devaluation and can readily access dollars. That may eventually help Nigeria to diversify, but shorter term it is positive that oil production has recovered from a nadir of 1mn barrels a day to nearly 1.5mn last month. Oil theft has been reduced and local companies are squeezing more out of marginal fields.

That so much has been achieved by a government stuffed with cronies — and, to be fair, one or two competent technocrats — shows how much could be achieved if Nigeria really got its act together. There are plenty of ways for Tinubu to build on a promising start.

First, his government has to tackle inflation — still running at 24 per cent — with more urgency. Food is the biggest driver. State governments need to increase supply by providing farm inputs, security and better access to market.

Second, it must build on tax reform by achieving its stated aim of doubling the ratio of tax collected to 18 per cent of GDP. Some of that should be spent on woefully neglected schools and clinics — even more urgent given foreign aid cuts. That will bring benefits of its own but, just as importantly, will also help to establish a social contract, which has been dangerously lacking.

Third, and perhaps most crucial, the government must confront banditry and terrorism with the same single-mindedness as it did distorted monetary policy. The army needs cleaning up as urgently as did the central bank.

As Nigeria’s election cycle edges towards 2027, Tinubu may be tempted to slow the pace of change. That would be a mistake. He should forge ahead, with the overriding aim of making ordinary Nigerians — not just investors — feel the benefits of shock therapy.

Culled from FT