Why HIFA Is So Close to My Heart – A Personal Encounter from Nigeria

By Ella

Today, I want to share a story with HIFA readers. But first, a brief insight into who I am and what brought me here.

About two years ago, I left behind my familiar life. I gave up my possessions, took only the essentials, and began my journey – without a goal, without a plan, but with the desire to experience life in all its facets.

This journey led me through various countries, cultures, and realities. I worked on the streets, camped under the open sky, lived in family homes, simple accommodations, and slums. In return for work, I received food and a roof over my head. I experienced much goodness: hospitality, humanity, warmth. But I also encountered darkness: poverty, deceit, danger, violence, and situations that sometimes pushed me to my limits.

Eventually, I arrived in Nigeria. For a while, I lived in the ghetto myself. I saw poverty, hunger, and deep need – but also incredible strength, hope, and silent dignity. One of these encounters I would like to share:

Life on the Edge: A Touching Encounter in a Nigerian Ghetto

We’re sitting in the small hotel bar. It’s often empty. But today, a family with four children is there. Their few belongings are stacked outside in plastic bags — neat, clean, almost carefully arranged. Everything they own fits into a few bags. You can feel: this family carries a heavy burden, yet they do not lose their dignity.

The mother prepares Garri. In Nigeria, it’s one of the staple foods: a fine cassava powder mixed with water into a porridge. In front of her are three small plastic containers. Two are filled with a bit more Garri, the third only slightly. She stirs the powder with a small sachet of water. Every drop counts.

The two older children share one container, the mother eats with the younger girl from the second, and the smallest child gets the third, least-filled plate. The father sits nearby but does not eat. Not because he isn’t hungry — but because the little they have is meant for the children and his wife. There isn’t enough for all.

Even the Cheapest Hotel Becomes Too Expensive

The family has been staying at this small hotel for days. It’s one of the cheapest hotels — barely more than a basic room, no comfort. And yet, they can no longer afford even this low daily rate. They are not here out of luxury, but out of hope. Hope for work. The father is trying to find a job through an agency.

When Job Hunting Leads to a Debt Trap

In Nigeria, searching for work through job agencies often involves high risk. Agencies usually charge high fees — sometimes several hundred dollars — long before it’s even certain whether a job will actually result. On top of that come travel costs, accommodation, and meals. Many job seekers must go into debt just to have a chance. And often, it remains only hope. The agencies are barely regulated; some operate on the edge of legitimacy. It’s a vicious cycle that few escape without loss.

Debt That Threatens Existence

We carefully asked how much debt the family owed the hotel. The mother answered quietly: about 40 dollars.

40 dollars. For many in Europe, a barely noticeable amount — but for this family, it meant survival. Many people in Nigeria don’t earn more than that in a month. If the debt isn’t paid, they risk losing their few personal belongings. Then they would have nothing.

A Small Gesture with a Big Impact

Together with a trusted local, we considered helping. The idea was to gift them half of the amount. They could try to raise the rest themselves. We didn’t want to ask questions or demand explanations — just offer help quietly and respectfully.

When we handed them the money, the mother’s eyes filled with tears. She thanked us softly. No big words. Just silent relief.

Shortly after, she left the bar with the children. She returned with three fresh plastic containers, now filled with rice, some sauce, and a few small pieces of meat. It was more than before, though on a European plate, it would barely be an appetizer. For this family, it meant: being full. For today.

A New Room and a Quiet Moment of Hope

Later, there were issues with their room. Thanks to a contact, a quick solution was found. When the mother realized they could stay, she wiped tears from her face once again. No dramatic gestures. Just a quiet sigh of relief.

We were simply in the right place at the right time. But what we witnessed is not unusual. Stories like this are everyday reality in Nigeria. They show how people fight daily: for food, shelter, work, a bit of hope. And how little it sometimes takes to give them new strength.

Nigeria — Between Poverty, Strength, and Dignity

Those who only know Nigeria through headlines about poverty, corruption, or violence are missing the full picture. Behind them are millions of faces, stories like this. People surviving on little. Families supporting each other. And time and again, this quiet strength that touches me deeply.

Why I Support HIFA

Encounters like this have shown me how essential targeted support can be. Especially HIFA’s child sponsorships are close to my heart. Giving children access to education, medical care, and a safe childhood means creating a better future. Even small contributions can make a big difference.

That’s why I support HIFA with all my heart. Because here, help reaches people. And because every contribution brings hope – day by day.