Growing up as the last child in a large extended family, her life changed drastically when her father passed away. In the shadows of grief, cultural expectations crept in. A man, already married with two children, began to frequent their home. Every time, he declared the same intent: “I want to marry Aisha.”

She was young, she was 14. She said no.

“I don’t like him. He is married. He has a wife. He has children.”, she cried. 

However, her pleas were dismissed.

Despite her clear refusal, her father’s relatives, those who held traditional authority over her, decided otherwise. One day, they simply told her she would marry him. Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Even on her wedding day, she resisted. She refused to have a bath. She refused to do her hair. She refused the henna, a traditional adornment that marks joy and celebration.

There was no joy.

“They tied the knot and said I would be taken to his house and I kept saying I would not stay.” 

Locked Doors and Loud Silence

After being taken to her husband’s home, Aisha shut herself away. For two days, she locked the door and refused him entry. She told him plainly that she would not stay in this marriage. She even threatened to poison him if she was forced to continue.

After a week, it was her turn to cook for the family. She fulfilled her cooking duties under pressure from her co-wife, but the pain and anger did not fade; it festered. Traditionally, the wife who makes dinner enjoys the company of her husband. It was Aisha’s turn this time, and while her husband spent the night in her room, the marriage was not consummated to her relief. 

In the morning, she waited for him to go out. Then, she searched his clothes and took all the money she could find, four thousand naira. She was disappointed. This wasn’t much; four thousand naira wouldn’t hurt him. 

“I wanted to hurt him because he hurt me.”, she said. 

She waited for him and her co-wife to leave the house, and then she ran away. She had saved some money, twenty-two thousand naira, from the cash gifts from her wedding. 

The Escape That Changed Everything

Late that night, Aisha fled to her mother’s friend’s house, determined to leave Yobe state. At dawn, she was helped to a park, where she boarded a vehicle bound for her mother’s town in Kano state. Her instincts were right; her husband and relatives scoured parks, trying to track her down. They failed.

Her husband immediately took a trip to Kano to find her. He was right, but they wouldn’t let him see her. Her mother lied that she was not in the house. When he left to check the parks again, they sneaked her into another vehicle bound for Kaduna state, where she would live with her sister. 

Now in a safe space, she has found refuge and support from her sister, brother, and mother, the same family who never supported the marriage in the first place. Yet her extended family, the ones who arranged the marriage, came twice to force her return. When she stood her ground, they cut her off. In her community, being disowned by extended family is a deep cultural blow.

Still, Aisha didn’t waver.

Eventually, her husband agreed to dissolve the marriage, but demanded every penny, every item he had ever spent on her be returned. Her mother, determined to protect her, paid it all back,  even items he hadn’t truly provided.

“He said he’s no longer interested because she had threatened to end his life.”

In truth, Aisha did threaten to end his life. On one occasion, just before he agreed to dissolve the marriage, during a confrontation, he slapped her a couple of times and Aisha, driven by desperation, anger and pain, took hold of the cover of a cast iron pot and hit him on his head. He began to bleed and drew the attention of neighbours. He had realised that if he didn’t let her go, she would make do on her word, she would kill him. 

Freedom, But Not Without Scars

The aftermath was brutal. Aisha was beaten by her father’s uncle and his children for defying the marriage. Her mother reported them to the police. They were ready to take the case to court. But once the man officially ended the marriage and received full repayment, the legal case was dropped.

Today, Aisha lives with her sister in Kaduna state. She hasn’t decided what her future will hold, but she is sure of one thing:

“I’m happy the marriage is over.”

Aisha Yahaya is not just a survivor of child, early, and forced marriage; she is a fighter who refused to be silenced.

Why Aisha’s Story Matters.

Aisha’s voice echoes the reality of thousands of girls forced into marriages they did not choose. Her resistance is not just personal,  it is political. It exposes the harmful cultural norms, the legal gaps, and the social silence that allow child marriage to persist.

In her actions, Aisha reminds us that girls are not property. They have the right to say no and to be heard.

Aisha’s bravery should never have been necessary. No child should have to run, beg, or threaten to escape a marriage she never consented to. Her story is a wake-up call to us all, to governments, donors, faith leaders, and families.

End child marriage!!!