海角大神

It鈥檚 7 a.m. on a Monday, and the clamor of automobile engines fills the air, the soundtrack of millions of Lagos residents heading to work. Kindergarten teacher Fatimoh Adeyemi is one of them. But first, she stops in front of a simple white stucco house. With her teenage daughter Ayomide strapped to her back, she heads inside.

The bright-green room that greets her is thrumming with energy. Two caregivers in matching geometric tops help lift Ayomide, who has cerebral palsy, into a cushy red lounge chair.

Since 2022, Ayomide has spent her days here at Flora鈥檚 Trust Center, playing and receiving specialized therapy alongside a dozen other kids with disabilities. 鈥淚 go to work with a relaxed mind,鈥� Ms. Adeyemi says.

At the same moment, on the other side of town, Olajumoke Bankole is also beginning her workday. She walks to the stairwell in her apartment building, looking for residents who want to buy a soda from her. Ms. Bankole can鈥檛 go any farther than this, because her 8-year-old daughter, Temitope, also lives with cerebral palsy, and she is her sole caretaker.

For Ms. Bankole, the sound of the traffic outside is a reminder of a lost life. Before Temitope was born, she sold drinks on a bustling street corner. Now, she hardly ever leaves home.聽

Although they live in the same city, Ms. Adeyemi and Ms. Bankole sit on opposite ends of a global divide. From Nigeria to Nebraska to Nepal, 2 billion people work as informal, unpaid caregivers to older adults and people who are sick or disabled. More than three-quarters are women, and the consequences for their careers and general well-being are often severe.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 want other mothers to suffer,鈥� says Chika Ugochukwu, who founded Flora鈥檚 Trust Center after years of caring for her son Arinze alone.聽

The burdens of care

Public funding for disability support in low- and middle-income countries like Nigeria is minimal, averaging less than 0.3% of gross domestic product, compared with 1.4% in high-income nations.聽

That void is filled by family members, usually women. Indeed, across the African continent, women spend more than three times as much time as men on unpaid 鈥渃are work鈥� 鈥� a broad term that encompasses everything from drawing the children鈥檚 nightly bath to walking an older parent to the clinic to hanging out the family鈥檚 laundry on the line to dry.聽

鈥淣igeria has a patriarchal society, so there are ... expectations that women should handle all the household chores and not complain,鈥� says Emilia Okon, a Nigerian gender and development specialist.聽

For instance, although Ms. Bankole鈥檚 husband doesn鈥檛 work, it is she who is solely responsible for helping Temitope eat, play, and sleep. When their daughter has a seizure in the middle of the night, as she frequently does, it is Ms. Bankole who rises to comfort her.

The value of this labor is enormous. In Nigeria, experts estimate that if the domestic work of women like Ms. Bankole were paid, it would add between 10% and 39% to the country鈥檚 GDP. More broadly, if unpaid care workers received wages, they would contribute an additional $11 trillion annually to the global economy.

Meanwhile, the burdens of unpaid caregiving also impoverish women in other ways.聽

When she was Ayomide鈥檚 sole caregiver, Ms. Adeyemi says, her world shrank to just their immediate family. Without a wider circle of friends, she rarely received invitations to owambe parties 鈥� the lavish celebrations of life milestones common in her Yoruba culture. She was isolated and deeply lonely.聽

聽鈥淚鈥檓 [still] trying to rekindle my social life now,鈥� Ms. Adeyemi says.聽

One mother鈥檚 mission聽

Ms. Ugochukwu knows what it is like to face caring for a child with a disability on your own.

Soon after her son Arinze was born in 2004, he developed cerebral palsy and needed round-the-clock care. It quickly became obvious to Ms. Ugochukwu that she wouldn鈥檛 be able to return to the law firm where she had worked.聽

Instead, she began freelancing, and sent Arinze to the only local care center in her price range. But it was only open in the mornings, and often took hours to reach in snarling rush-hour traffic. Some months, Ms. Ugochukwu鈥檚 earnings didn鈥檛 even cover the costs of the care center, let alone rent and groceries.

Ms. Ugochukwu鈥檚 tipping point came when Arinze was 4 years old and fractured his hip. She still doesn鈥檛 know exactly how it happened, but he was in someone else鈥檚 care, and the experience terrified her. Soon after, she quit her law work completely.

Driven by her experience, Ms. Ugochukwu launched Flora鈥檚 Trust Center in 2021 to provide specialized, professional care for other children with cerebral palsy. Even after Arinze died two years later, Ms. Ugochukwu鈥檚 resolve remained unshaken. Today, the center is open 24 hours a day, and has three full-time staff members. Occupational, speech, and physical therapists also visit the children regularly.聽

Originally, Ms. Ugochukwu funded the entire operation with donations. But as inflation in Nigeria skyrocketed, she couldn鈥檛 keep up. Today, she estimates her running costs are more than $600 monthly, and she charges families on a pay-what-you-can basis.聽

鈥淓ven the minimal fee we initially proposed was unaffordable for most,鈥� she says. Meanwhile, demand is soaring, pointing to the wider gaps in care for people with disabilities in Nigeria.聽

鈥淥nly the government can scale such operations,鈥� says Ms. Okon, the gender and development expert. But Nigeria鈥檚 public health care system is also heavily reliant on donor funding, meaning money often ebbs and flows, she notes.

For mothers like Ms. Bankole, professional caregiving support would be life-changing. Within the dim confines of her apartment, her days unfold in a predictable manner, monotonous as the leaks from the sewage pipes lining the building鈥檚 exterior.聽

On a recent morning, she slumps wearily onto the room鈥檚 solitary sofa, keeping her eyes on Temitope, who is entertaining herself with the crinkling sounds of nylon bags.

The girl鈥檚 happiness is simple but profound. 鈥淚 have accepted everything as God鈥檚 plan,鈥� Ms. Bankole says. However, she still wants more for herself and her daughter. She says she dreams of them both one day having a life beyond these four walls.聽

Meanwhile, back on the other side of town,聽 Ms. Adeyemi鈥檚 workday ends at 2:30 p.m. She still has a few hours to spare before she is due back to collect Ayomide, so she preps her lesson notes for the next day, and daydreams about the general store she wants to open soon.聽

鈥淗aving a place I can entrust my daughter鈥檚 care gives me room to pursue my dream,鈥� she says.聽