
In a nation blessed with natural wealth and human capital, a silent crisis is crippling the future—one child at a time. Nearly 40 percent of Nigerian children under the age of five are being robbed of their physical growth and cognitive development due to the devastating grip of malnutrition. This harrowing revelation was made by Nigeria’s Vice President, Kashim Shettima, and it paints a chilling picture of a country at risk of failing its next generation before they can even speak.
The Vice President's remarks struck a nerve during a recent policy dialogue on food systems and child nutrition, where he laid bare the harsh reality many Nigerian families face. In a room filled with high-ranking officials, development partners, and stakeholders in the food and health sectors, Shettima did not mince words. “Malnutrition is not just a statistic—it is a tragedy,” he said, visibly concerned. “When nearly 40 percent of our children are malnourished, it is not just a public health crisis. It is a national emergency.”
These words echoed through the halls of Abuja like a thunderclap, shaking the conscience of a nation that has long prided itself as the giant of Africa. While the country battles economic instability, inflation, insecurity, and infrastructural decay, a more insidious battle rages in households across rural and urban Nigeria—children are wasting away before their parents’ eyes, not from disease or violence, but from the sheer lack of adequate nourishment.
Malnutrition, according to experts, does not only stunt the body—it stunts the brain. It impairs learning, weakens immunity, and significantly increases the risk of death. A child who is malnourished at the age of two is likely to struggle in school, find it difficult to acquire skills, and even earn less as an adult. Multiply that by millions, and you have a bleak outlook for any nation hoping to compete in the modern world. Shettima’s statement, therefore, wasn’t just a lament—it was a warning.
According to the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), Nigeria bears one of the highest burdens of stunting in the world, with millions of children failing to reach their full height and mental capacity due to chronic undernutrition. These figures are more than just dry data—they represent real children in real homes, battling hunger silently every day. In a land flowing with oil and agricultural potential, it is a cruel irony that children still sleep with empty stomachs and wake up with hollow eyes.
Food insecurity has worsened in recent years due to a combination of inflation, conflict in the North, climate change, displacement, and the COVID-19 pandemic’s aftershocks. Prices of staple foods like rice, beans, maize, and yam have skyrocketed, making balanced meals a luxury for many families. A recent market survey revealed that the cost of feeding a child nutritious food daily is now out of reach for most low-income households. Mothers are forced to stretch meager meals among several children, watering down food just to fill empty bellies—while nutrients vanish in the process.
Shettima’s call for urgent action reverberates against a backdrop of worsening health statistics. While politicians debate budgets and policies, children are dying of what experts describe as “hidden hunger.” Not the hunger that makes headlines, but the one that chips away at the body’s inner strength—zinc, iron, iodine, and vitamin deficiencies that destroy potential before it even gets a chance to bloom.
What’s even more distressing is that malnutrition is entirely preventable. Experts agree that with the right policy focus, funding, education, and community-based interventions, Nigeria can reverse the trend. The Vice President emphasized that it was time to prioritize nutrition in national planning, integrate food security into healthcare delivery, and support breastfeeding, school feeding programs, and nutrition education at all levels.
But the question remains—will anything change?
Over the years, Nigeria has launched multiple programs aimed at improving child nutrition, from the National Policy on Food and Nutrition to the Home-Grown School Feeding Programme. While some of these initiatives have recorded modest success, implementation gaps, corruption, and political inconsistency have often left them gasping for breath. Meanwhile, children continue to suffer in silence.
International partners have repeatedly warned that unless something radical is done, the country may witness a surge in preventable child deaths. The World Bank recently projected that food inflation and economic pressure could push millions more into extreme poverty, exacerbating the nutrition crisis. But it seems as though successive administrations have paid more attention to infrastructure and power politics, neglecting the most foundational infrastructure of all—a healthy child.
As Vice President Shettima spoke with somber urgency, it was clear that he saw this crisis not just through a policy lens, but as a moral issue. “We must act now,” he declared. “A nation that cannot feed its children has no future. We cannot continue to treat nutrition as a side issue.”
His words have lit a spark across civil society, with NGOs and advocacy groups renewing calls for stronger investment in maternal and child health. Doctors are calling for more government support in rural health centers, nutritionists are pushing for fortified foods to be made widely available, and parents are demanding answers and action.
For now, the faces of children suffering from malnutrition remain hidden in villages, slums, IDP camps, and overcrowded urban ghettos. Their stories rarely trend. Their cries do not shake government houses. But if Shettima’s words are to mean anything, then this must change—and fast.
Every stunted child is a testimony of neglect. Every wasted frame is a warning of what Nigeria could become—a country of lost potential, broken dreams, and arrested development. The nation still has a chance to turn the tide, but time is running out. If Nigeria truly wants to lead Africa, it must begin by nourishing its youngest citizens.
In the end, the legacy of any administration will not be written only in roads and bridges but in the eyes of the children it saved. The Vice President has rung the alarm bell. The question now is: who is listening?