Child marriage destroys girls’ lives and futures. When will we stop it?

Sarah Little is the Founder and Editor in Chief of More To Her Story, an independent, non-profit newsroom dedicated to improving the odds for women and girls. This International Women's Day, she reflects on the global fight to end child marriage.

Every three seconds, a girl somewhere is forced into marriage. By the time you reach the end of this sentence, another childhood has been stolen. She will wake up as a child and go to sleep as a wife. School will no longer be an option—her future erased before she even understands what it could have been. In many cases,  she will be handed to a man twice or sometimes three times her age. If she becomes pregnant, her body, still too young for childbirth, may not survive it.

Every three seconds, a girl somewhere is forced into marriage.

Yet the world treats child marriage as an unfortunate reality rather than what it is: a crime. 

Policymakers speak of cultural nuance. Aid organizations publish reports on "harmful practices". But let’s be clear—this is systematic violence against girls. Yes, poverty is a driver, but it is not an excuse. There is no justification, no reasonable explanation, that makes marrying off a child anything less than a profound moral failure.

I remember speaking with Nadia*, a 20-year-old Syrian woman in Zaatari Refugee Camp, about her marriage at 16. She didn’t know the man she was marrying; he ended up abusing her. “When my husband hit me, I was pregnant,” she told me. “I fell on the ground really hard, and when I went to the hospital, I was no longer pregnant.”

“Most girls in the camp get married at 15 or 16. They don’t know anything,” Nadia told me. “They just know about the pretty dresses, the parties, the makeup, the dancing. It all sounds so fun and exciting. Then, once the wedding celebrations subside, reality sets in.”

It is on all of us to create a world where girls are valued for who they are rather than what they can offer to men and boys. 

Nadia had done something few girls in the camp dared to do: she asked for a divorce. In the refugee camp, divorce was not only rare but radical—especially if initiated by the wife. I asked Nadia what she would do differently the next time she got married, if that’s what she wanted. “The ideal scenario would be if I loved my future husband,” she told me. “But at the very least, if I don’t love him, I want to know him. How he treats people, his family, whether he respects women. In most marriages here, there is no love. It’s very rare. If there is no love, you can easily have problems. It would be much better if people actually married who they loved.”

A simple idea. And yet, when it comes to child marriage, love is not the currency—girls are.

Breaking this cycle isn’t as simple as changing laws. Many countries already have laws setting the minimum age of marriage at 18, but exceptions exist. Parents can consent, judges can approve, and loopholes are conveniently left open. In the U.S., child marriage is still legal in 37 states. Even where laws are strict, awareness and enforcement are often weak, and local customs hold more sway than legal frameworks. So, what can stop child marriage? Education? Economic empowerment? Better laws? Stronger enforcement? All of the above. But the most urgent and effective shifts come from within. When Spotlight Initiative, the United Nations high-impact initiative to end violence against women and girls, worked with civil society, the government, and traditional leaders to establish a Chiefs Forum in Malawi, it led to the cancellation of 98 per cent of registered child marriages in six districts. 

Parents must refuse to sign their daughters away, but it is on all of us to create a world where girls are valued for who they are rather than what they can offer to men and boys. 

The responsibility does not lie with the children; it lies with the adults and systems that exploit them. 

*Names have been changed.