In Nigerian homes, care is deeply embedded in culture. We believe in taking care of our own. Aging parents stay with their children, younger relatives are brought in as house helps, and nannies are employed to support working mothers. But within this cultural fabric lies a painful truth—many of those providing daily care for our elderly, children, and vulnerable family members are untrained, unprepared, and unsupported.

 Yet, we rarely speak about the consequences. We overlook the unspoken mental burden placed on young girls forced into caregiving roles without guidance, the quiet suffering of elderly parents neglected due to ignorance rather than intent, and the devastating impact of placing children in the hands of caregivers who lack the knowledge to truly nurture them.

A Familiar Nigerian Story—But One That Should Never Have Happened

Mama Ekundayo was 78 when she moved in with her son’s family in Lagos. A mother of six, she had spent her life raising children, running a business, and holding her home together. But now, in her later years, she needed help—help with bathing, with movement, with her medications.

Her son, like many busy professionals, did what was expected—he hired a housekeeper, a young girl from the village, to assist his mother. She was respectful, obedient, and eager to work—but she was also untrained.

One evening, Mama Ekundayo struggled to breathe. Her caregiver assumed she was just tired and left her to rest. But she wasn’t tired—she was having a medical emergency. By the time the family realized, it was too late. She died in her sleep.

Could she have been saved? Perhaps. Would proper training have made a difference? Certainly.

This is not an unusual story. It happens across Nigeria every day. It is not about carelessness or cruelty—it is about a society that assumes caregiving is instinctive, rather than a skill that must be learned.

The Nigerian Reality: Care is Cultural, But Training is Neglected

In Nigeria, domestic caregiving is often informal, shaped by tradition rather than structured learning. We entrust our aged parents, our children, and even our sick relatives to housekeepers, nannies, and distant family members, assuming that because they have lived in homes before, they automatically know how to care for others.

But caregiving, especially for the elderly and vulnerable, requires more than just willingness—it demands:

• Knowledge of elderly care – Understanding mobility support, chronic illnesses, and emergency response.
• Mental and emotional readiness – Many domestic workers come from backgrounds of hardship; without training, they may transfer frustration, neglect, or even resentment onto those they are meant to care for.
• Security awareness – Untrained caregivers may unknowingly expose families to theft, abuse, or external dangers simply because they lack the awareness to recognize warning signs.
• Respect for privacy and ethical caregiving – Many Nigerian families experience breaches of trust, gossip, or mishandling of personal affairs due to a lack of professionalism in home care roles.

We see the effects of this neglect all around us when the elderly are left to sit in isolation because their caregivers don’t know how to engage them mentally or emotionally or when children are  exposed to toxic influences from untrained nannies who project their own harsh upbringing onto them. What about cases of the disabled and chronically  ill family members receiving improper care, leading to worsening health conditions or emotional distress.Yet, because this is how it has always been, we accept it.

We entrust our children to trained teachers and our health to qualified doctors, yet we overlook the need for professional training for those who live in our homes and care for our most vulnerable.

Nigeria’s culture of caregiving is rich and rooted in community, but we must ask ourselves: Is culture enough when lives are at stake?

A Call for Cultural and Systemic Change

It is time for care training institutions, policymakers, and families to take responsibility. Care work is not just domestic labor—it is a profession. And like every profession, it must be treated with the seriousness, structure, and respect it deserves.

Care work is not just domestic labor—it is a profession that requires training, structure, and respect. Families, policymakers, and care institutions must take responsibility by ensuring that caregivers are equipped with skills in elderly care, child development, disability support, first aid, and security. When we begin to value care as a skilled profession, we will not only protect our loved ones but also redefine the true meaning of caregiving in Nigeria and beyond.