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John L. Burton, the proudly liberal and pro-labor lawmaker who shaped California politics and policy over six decades on topics as varied as welfare, foster care, auto emissions, guns and foie gras, has died. He was 92.

With his brother, Rep. Phillip Burton, and college buddy, former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown, Burton was integral to the organization that dominated Democratic politics in San Francisco and the state starting in the 1960s.

Burton was elected to the Assembly in 1964 and Congress a decade later. Laid low by cocaine addiction, he did not seek reelection in 1982. But he returned to Sacramento after getting clean and became the Capitol’s most powerful legislator as Senate president pro tem from 1998 until term limits forced him to retire in 2004.

“I think government’s there to help the people who can’t help themselves. And there’s a lot of people that can’t help themselves,” Burton said, describing his view of a politician’s job in an oral history interview by Open California.

Burton’s death was confirmed in a statement released by his family on Sunday.

“He cared a lot,” said Kimiko Burton, his daughter. “He always instilled in me that we fight for the underdog. There are literally millions of people whose lives he helped over the years who have no idea who he is.”

An L.A. Times writer described Brown, always dapper and cool, as a piece of living art. In contrast, Burton was performance art — rumpled, often rude, too fidgety to sit in long policy meetings. Some people sprinkle conversation with profanities. Burton doused his sentences with expletives, usually F-bombs.

John Burton with then-California Atty. Gen. Kamala Harris and Sen. Dianne Feinstein in 2011.

(Rich Pedroncelli / Associated Press)

He was quick to yell but could also be charming. He bought pies from a fruit stand off Interstate 80 between San Francisco and Sacramento and delivered them as apologies to targets of his rants. An aide once gave him a T-shirt with the phrase: “I yell because I care.”

Unlike most politicians, who dress to the nines, Burton wore ties reluctantly and showed up at meetings with governors wearing guayaberas, rarely with his hair in place. When cameras weren’t around, he drove through San Francisco delivering blankets to homeless people.

One of Burton’s many intensely loyal aides was Angie Tate, whom he hired to be his political fundraiser in 1998 knowing she was pregnant with twins. After she gave birth three months early and tried to return to work, Burton insisted that she take a year off, fully paid. She worked with him for the rest of his days.

In later years, he created John Burton Advocates for Youth, a nonprofit group to mentor foster youth and seek policy changes. One such bill extended services for foster youth until age 21, rather than the previous cutoff of 18.

“I don’t think there is a person who has done more for foster kids than John Burton,” said Miles Cooley, a Los Angeles entertainment attorney who was in foster care when he was a child and sits on the board of Burton’s foundation. “He wasn’t speaking truth to power. He was yelling it.”

From his early days in public life, Burton, a lawyer and Army veteran, advocated for greater civil rights, opposed the death penalty, and was an antiwar activist, protesting U.S. involvement in Vietnam in October 1963, when the U.S. had fewer than 17,000 troops there.

As state Senate leader four decades later, Burton joined folk singer Joan Baez at a protest of President George W. Bush’s impending invasion of Iraq. As California Democratic Party chair from 2009 to 2017, he presided as the party changed its platform to oppose capital punishment.

“John Burton was liberal when it was popular to be liberal and he was liberal when it was not popular. I always admired that,” said former state Sen. Jim Brulte, a Republican who tangled with Burton in the Legislature and later when they chaired their respective political parties.

A party chair’s job is to win elections. That requires money. In 2008, the year before Burton took over the state Democratic Party, the California Republican and Democratic parties raised and spent roughly equal sums. By 2016, his final campaign as chair, the Democrats were outspending the Republicans $36.2 million to $17.7 million.

He promoted a ballot measure in 2010 that allows the Legislature to pass the annual budget by a simple majority rather than the previous two-thirds supermajority, allowing the Democrats to pass a legislative session’s most important measure — the budget — without Republican votes, further marginalizing the GOP in Sacramento.

When Burton stepped down from the California Democratic Party in 2017, Democrats held all statewide offices and had supermajorities in both houses of the 120-seat Legislature.

Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-San Francisco), then-Rep. Barbara Lee (D-Oakland), Los Angeles County Supervisor Hilda Solis and state Treasurer Fiona Ma were among the politicians, most of them women, who joined Burton on the convention stage in 2017 for his farewell as party chair. Former state Sen. Martha Escutia serenaded him with a rendition of “Bésame Mucho.”

“John is the chief architect of the Democrats’ dominance in California,” Pelosi said at the time.

Burton paid tribute to the people who had helped him, saying, “You’re only as good as your staff,” and closed by exhorting party loyalists to raise their middle fingers and give a Burton-like cheer to then-President Trump.

Although Burton was a partisan, his closest friend in the Senate was Ross Johnson of Fullerton, who was Senate Republican leader. Sharing a quirky love of song, the unlikely duet interrupted a Senate floor session with a rendition of “Big Rock Candy Mountain.”

They also shared a distrust of authority and collaborated to curb law enforcement’s ability to seize individuals’ assets without a trial. Burton and Johnson shaped campaign finance law with a ballot measure permitting political parties to accept unlimited donations, enhancing parties’ power. As a sweetener for voters, the measure required rapid disclosure of contributions.

John Lowell Burton, born in Cincinnati in 1932, was the youngest of three brothers. After his father completed medical school in Chicago, the family relocated to San Francisco, where Dr. Burton cared for patients whether they could pay or not.

Burton lettered in basketball at San Francisco State College and kept a clipping of a newspaper box score showing he scored 20 points against a University of San Francisco team that included young Bill Russell, one of the greatest basketball players of all time. He met Brown at San Francisco State and they became lifelong friends. A bartender in his younger days, Burton was arrested for bookmaking in 1962, but was cleared.

Burton credited his oldest brother, Phillip, with pushing him to enter politics. A dominant political figure, Rep. Phil Burton might have become House speaker if he had not died in 1983 at the age of 56.

The Burton brothers reflected a dichotomy in California politics, rising from the left while Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan ascended from the right, against the swirl of the Bay Area’s brand of radical politics. John Burton and Brown won their Assembly seats in 1964, the same year that voters approved a ballot measure backed by the real estate industry giving property owners the right to refuse to sell to people of color. Courts later overturned it.

The Burton-Brown organization spawned a who’s who of leaders, including two San Francisco mayors — George Moscone, who was a high school friend, and Brown, the most powerful Assembly speaker in California history. Burton was a friend of Gov. Gavin Newsom’s father, a state appellate court justice, and watched young Gavin’s high school sports games. Brown gave Newsom his start in politics with an appointment.

Barbara Boxer worked for John Burton during his time in Congress, before succeeding him in 1982 and winning a U.S. Senate seat a decade later. When Boxer retired in 2016, Brown helped promote Boxer’s successor, Kamala Harris.

Pelosi is most consequential of all. Phillip Burton’s widow, Sala Burton, succeeded him in Congress. As she was dying of cancer, Sala Burton told John that she wanted Pelosi to succeed her, and he used all his connections to help Pelosi win the congressional seat in 1987.

Outgoing California Democratic Party Chairman John Burton at the California Democratic State Convention in 2017.

(Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times)

In November 1978, Burton declined an invitation from Rep. Leo Ryan, a Democrat from San Mateo, to accompany him to Guyana to investigate the People’s Temple cult, once a force in San Francisco politics. On Nov. 18, as Ryan’s plane was about to depart with cult defectors, one of cult leader Jim Jones’ followers assassinated the congressman. Jones led a murder-suicide resulting in more than 900 deaths.

On Nov. 27, 1978, with the city convulsed by the Jonestown cataclysm, Dan White, a former San Francisco supervisor, sneaked into City Hall and assassinated Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk.

Burton fell hard in the months and years after, drinking heavily, huffing nitrous oxide and freebasing cocaine. He missed congressional votes, and aides feared he would be found dead. In 1982, he checked into a rehab facility in Arizona and did not seek reelection.

Back in San Francisco, he built a law practice, stayed clean and returned to politics, winning a special election for an open Assembly seat in 1988. He reunited with Speaker Brown and became his close ally.

Burton’s eclectic circle of friends included national political figures, Hollywood glitterati, football coach John Madden, North Beach topless dancer Carol Doda and, from his bartending days, Alice Kleupfer, a cocktail waitress.

In this small world, Kleupfer’s son James Rogan won an Assembly seat from the Burbank area as a Republican in 1994, was elected to Congress in 1996, and helped lead the impeachment of President Clinton. Politics aside, Burton and Rogan shared a connection through Kleupfer.

That friendship mattered on May 30, 1996, when Republicans, holding a short-lived 41-39 seat advantage in the Assembly, rushed to approve tough-on-crime bills. One bill would have made it a crime for pregnant women to abuse drugs, a response to accounts of babies born addicted to cocaine. The GOP-led Assembly seemed certain to pass it when Burton stood to speak.

Though not a commanding orator, Burton spoke from the heart about how cocaine “takes total control of your life,” and how he spent days freebasing in hotel rooms, refusing maid service because he didn’t want anyone to see him.

“It took me, somebody who at least has got a fair set of brains sometimes, who comes from a background that is not deprived, who at the time I was doing it — and I’m not proud to say — was a member of the House of Representatives, and it took me two years to get off this drug, which is the most insidious drug you can imagine,” Burton said.

Floor speeches rarely change minds. But after Burton pleaded with Republicans not to “turn these young women into criminals,” Rogan, then-Speaker Curt Pringle and a few other Republicans withheld their votes. With the bill pending, Republicans conferred behind closed doors and quietly dropped the bill.

“It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t scripted. It was pure John Burton,” said Rogan, who went on to become a Superior Court judge in Orange County. Burton was the only Democrat who had the relationships and gravitas to derail the bill.

For most of his time in office, Burton served under Republican governors. He butted heads with them and on occasion won them over.

When young Assemblyman Burton sought to decriminalize marijuana, Reagan, implying that Burton was a nut, quipped that the San Franciscan was the one man in Sacramento who had the most to fear from the squirrels that populate Capitol Park. Burton answered by calling reporters to the park and trying to feed squirrels a copy of some Reagan-backed legislation.

“There’s some benefit to people thinking you’re nuts,” Burton said in an interview.

Though he was a relatively junior legislator, Burton took a lead role in Reagan’s 1971 welfare overhaul, pushing for annual cost-of-living adjustments for welfare recipients, something he fought to protect over the years.

He disparaged Gov. Pete Wilson, a Marine Corps veteran, for his efforts to limit welfare by calling him “the little Marine.” Burton had a “wicked sense of humor and a “colorful” way of expressing it” but was “a straight shooter,” Wilson said.

“With respect to legislative leaders, as Democrats, I would say that the combination of John Burton and Willie Brown negotiating budget and policy solutions during a time of crisis in the Reagan Cabinet Room was some of the finest policy and political talent California has ever seen,” Wilson said.

Voters elected Burton to the state Senate in 1996, and senators elected him Senate president pro tem in 1998, the year Gray Davis was elected governor, the first Democrat to hold that office after 16 years of Republicans. The relationship was strained.

In appearance, temperament and approach, they were opposites, and they clashed. Davis was a centrist who tried to be tightfisted. Burton, often dismissive of Davis, tried to pull him to the left. When it suited their interests, however, Davis signed legislation that Burton advocated, and Burton carried administration legislation.

“It ain’t brain surgery,” Burton said in 2021 of the art of turning a bill into a law. But few legislators could handle a lawmaking scalpel like Burton.

As Senate leader, he shepherded legislation to buy the last large stands of old-growth redwoods, increase public employee pensions, restrict guns and expand the right to sue, including for victims of sexual harassment. He was the target of such a suit in 2008. It was settled a few months later.

Burton routinely blocked legislation that increased the length of prison sentences but was a favorite of the California Correctional Peace Officers Assn., which represents prison guards. He was, after all, pro-labor.

In 2002, Burton carried legislation ratifying the prison officers’ contract negotiated by the Davis administration granting officers a raise of roughly 35% over five years, and boosting their pensions. Later that year the union, run by the fedora-wearing Don Novey, celebrated Burton’s 70th birthday by donating $70,000 to his campaign account.

Often, Burton sought no credit for what he helped others accomplish, as Fran Pavley discovered. In 2001, her first year in the Assembly, Pavley, an Agoura Hills Democrat, proposed far-reaching climate change legislation to authorize the California Air Resources Board to regulate greenhouse gas emissions from vehicle tailpipes.

Lobbyists for automakers shifted into overdrive, airing ads warning California that AB 1058 would dictate what cars people could own. The oil industry, drive-time talk radio hosts, and even Cal Worthington and his dog Spot piled on. AB 1058 looked like roadkill.

Burton’s solution: Hijack another bill and insert the contents of Pavley’s bill into it. With that bit of legerdemain, AB 1058 died, AB 1493 was born, and the auto industry’s campaign crashed.

Burton didn’t attend the ceremony when Davis signed the bill. Nor did he accompany Pavley a decade later when President Obama held a Rose Garden ceremony embracing the California concept in nationwide fuel-efficiency standards.

Pavley said she had never seen a politician work so hard for a bill for no credit, ”and I haven’t seen it since.”

Burton took special interest in certain issues. He was, for example, appalled at the force-feeding of ducks and geese to enlarge their livers to produce foie gras. In one of his final bills, he battled restaurant owners and agricultural interests to ban the practice. It passed the Senate by one vote.

In a letter urging Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger to sign the bill against the wishes of some chefs, he included Burtonesque doggerel: “Save Donald Duck. F— Wolfgang Puck.”

Schwarzenegger signed the bill and sent Burton a photo of himself and Burton in the governor’s office looking at the bottom of the governor’s shoe with a note: “I got duck liver on my shoe!” In the background of the photo, there’s an image of Reagan, smiling with his head tilted back as if he’s having a good laugh.

Burton, who was divorced twice, is survived by his daughter, attorney Kimiko Burton, and two grandchildren.

Times staff writer David Zahniser contributed to this report.

Morain is a former Times staff writer.

In a span of a week, global politics had gotten some big headlines. Last Friday, Putin and Trump met in Alaska. The anticipated summit was the talk of the world for quite a while. Speculations to determination, the summit was an icebreaking summit for US and Russian relations. Especially the way President Donald Trump was dealing with Putin with threats and showing a little turn towards a hard line against Putin; however, that hard line again turned into “Brozone” in a three-hour meeting. Initially, it was meant to happen for seven hours. The meeting happened to end the war in Ukraine. After the meeting, nevertheless, there was no peace deal and no commitment. Trump deliberately passed the ball into Ukraine and Europe’s court.

Fast forward to Monday, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky, with his European counterparts, arrived at the White House. Five European leaders and the secretary general of NATO, along with European Commission leaders, were the participants in this summit. What was the result this time? Well, unlike the last time, when Trump hosted Zelensky in the White House back in February, this time, Zelensky wasn’t bashed for any reason. The meeting was held with all the big names without any disruption, and European leaders knew just the weapon to use against Trump to keep Trump on their side: the art of diplomacy through “flattery.” Still, there was no peace deal or anything. The European leaders thought this time they might sway Trump to go harsh against Putin, which ultimately failed.

Trump, from the very beginning, was determined about some parts in the deal. Ukraine won’t be taken into NATO, and Ukraine must forget about Crimea, which he sees as a fault of the Obama administration. Steve Witkoff, Trump’s appointed special envoy in the Middle East, who basically arrives in every conflicting part of the world as a peace-bringer as Trump’s ambassador, mentioned a part that’s now a cornerstone of the security agenda. Witkoff mentioned “something like NATO’s Article 5.” NATO Article 5 states that an armed attack against one member is considered an attack against all members, obligating each ally to take necessary action, including armed force, to assist the attacked party and restore security. It’s a profound part of NATO and what makes this military alliance different from every other alliance that’s out there. In the Alaska summit, Putin has agreed on some kind of “robust security arrangements” to secure the peace deal. So basically, Ukraine might secure its security by not joining NATO; however, there’s a catch. When Witkoff said something like “Article 5,” does it necessarily mean they are going to implement Article 5?

Here the debate comes. Something like Article 5 and implementing Article 5 don’t mean the same thing. And Witkoff wants European contribution to this security to play a bigger role. As Trump mostly follows a “unilateralist policy,” he doesn’t want to be the firsthand guarantor in the security arrangements. Whereas, the European leaders want to see Donald Trump playing a bigger role in this context. The EU already took a big initiative to spend on a military budget higher than ever, reaching 5% of the whole budget for every country before 2031. Back in March, the EU proposed “Sky Shield” for Ukraine. The European Sky Shield for Ukraine is a proposed European-led air protection strategy designed to defend western and central Ukraine from Russian missile and drone attacks during the Russian invasion of Ukraine. “Sky Shield” aims to protect critical infrastructure, including Ukraine’s operational nuclear power plants, major cities like Kyiv, Lviv, and Odessa, and vital economic corridors. The plan would not include operations in the eastern parts of Ukraine; however, it hasn’t materialized yet.

Trump saw the Russia-Ukraine war as Biden’s war, which he never wanted to drag on in the first place. Before being elected, he boasted about ending the war in Ukraine. Though, he couldn’t stop the war after seven months. This is quite a stigma on his “Peacemaker” appearance. Trump was seen to have fallen out with Putin, even tariffing a major ally, India, for buying Russian crude oil. From almost falling out, the Alaska summit again showed Trump’s humility with Vladimir Putin.

European leaders couldn’t budge Trump from his unwillingness to get involved in the Russia and Ukraine war. There was a motion to send a peacekeeping force to Ukraine from the UK and France. But they couldn’t find their other allies beside them. Germany, Italy, and even Poland rejected the idea of sending their troops to Ukraine, not even as peacekeepers. The US isn’t backing up Ukraine with military and financial aid, likewise the Biden era. Europe has already surpassed the US’s financial aid to Ukraine and is soon going to surpass it in the military sector. In any of the scenarios, there is no sign of a security deal or any comprehensive peace treaty between Russia and Ukraine. And every week, Russia is taking up more land in the Donbass region. It already occupies 20% of the land in Ukraine, and there is no sign that they want to give the land back to Ukraine. Experts are rigid in the idea that Putin won’t give the lands back it occupied. Neither will Ukraine accept a Russian-compelling peace treaty. So the stalemate is firm.

Trump has announced there will be a trilateral summit with the Ukrainian president and Russian president. As the security guarantee fades away and the Russian army occupies more lands every week, the war looks far away from ending. A treaty like the 1994 “Budapest Memorandum” won’t be accepted by the Ukrainian side; likewise, the Minsk agreement won’t be accepted by Ukraine and the EU. The demand is something solid and binding. Some are talking about a “Reassurance Force” that will secure Ukraine and Europe too, or an “Ironclad” agreement like the US-Japan and the US-South Korea security mechanisms. Till the next summit, the world awaits to see a peace deal being activated at the border of Europe.

It’s 1:00 p.m., and the sun in Maiduguri, North East Nigeria, scorches without mercy – too hot to stand still and too bright to keep eyes open. Under the blistering heat, however, children clutch their bowls tightly, roaming the streets for food.

When it rains, they shiver violently, teeth clattering loud enough to be heard from several feet away, their stomachs rumbling, their eyes scanning for anything edible. With bleeding heels and limps from split soles, their skin looks cracked during the harmattan. They often wander around, drifting through dumpsites with empty bowls or plastic bags clutched to their sides.

At fast food joints, they watch others eat, swatting flies from their eyes and the corners of their mouths, waiting for crumbs or spilt leftovers. By nightfall, they curl under bridges or behind kiosks, sleeping beneath shop awnings, or wherever a patch of shadow might pass for shelter. 

They survive on dumpsites and gutters, scavenging for scraps, stretching out their palms to uninterested pedestrians, and knocking on car windows with quiet pleas. Some chant, some mumble, and some say nothing at all. It rarely makes a difference; most of the time, no one listens. 

HumAngle has spoken to scores of children uprooted and shaped by the Boko Haram insurgency in the northeastern region. Broken and disadvantaged, many of these children say they resort to scavenging at dumpsites to survive, searching through refuse to feed themselves and support their families.

Twelve-year-old Ibrahim Ali, one of the scavenging boys HumAngle interviewed, returns with some metal scraps from a day-long exploration. “I always look for metal scraps that I can sell to support my family,” Ibrahim said. “On a good day, I find three to four kilos of metal that I sell for ₦300 per kilo. But on normal days, I get less than that. Sometimes I may end up without getting any scraps worth selling.”

The Boko Haram conflict unravelled the social safety net entirely. It swelled the ranks of the homeless, turned children into scavengers, and broke the links between family, education, and protection. When two cases of child abuse surfaced recently in the media, the public had a rare glimpse into the routine violence many children silently endure. The first involved a schoolgirl caught plucking mangoes, who was beaten with fists and kicks by the tree’s owner. The second was a video that emerged from a Tsangaya school: a boy stripped shirtless, doused with water, sand poured over him, and lashed mercilessly by his teacher.

The backlash was swift. The teacher was arrested. The state awarded the boy a scholarship. There was outrage. There were hashtags. However, the troubles facing children caught up in war zones are far more disturbing; the future of many of them is held to ransom by terrorists, ruining lives and properties in the suburbs of Borno state.

Bama, for instance, was once a bustling commercial hub, a critical trade link for merchants from Cameroon and neighbouring Nigerian states. But in 2014, it became the first major town to fall to Boko Haram. What followed was the collapse of life as it had once been. When the military reclaimed the town, a deepening humanitarian crisis emerged. Today in Bama, children roam the streets. Many have no idea where their parents are or what it means to be cared for.

These gaps in protection are realities carved into the lives of children like Adamu and Bala, who are forced to navigate survival without the support of family.

Adamu is just 10 years old, yet he carries himself with the hollowed, guarded manner of someone much older. He lives alone in a displacement camp in Bama, a place originally meant to provide safety, but where no one takes responsibility for him. “I don’t know who my parents are,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “I just sleep anywhere in the camp. Sometimes near the fence, or by the market sheds.”

At sunrise, he sets out for Bama town, wandering in search of food. “In the morning, I go to town to beg. That’s how I survive,” he said. 

In Konduga, 12-year-old Bala lives a different but equally difficult life. He shares a shelter in the IDP camp with his mother and two younger brothers, but the conditions are dire. “We don’t have food,” he said. “I beg on the streets to eat.” His father disappeared years ago, and Bala doesn’t know whether he’s alive or dead. Now, as the oldest child, he bears a responsibility far beyond his age, providing for his family.

Both boys are among the estimated 2.6 million internally displaced persons (IDPs) in Borno, more than half of whom are children. Despite the scale of the need, investment in education remains limited. Between 2020 and 2023, the Education Cannot Wait (ECW) initiative allocated US$20.1 million to support nearly 2.9 million children across Borno, Adamawa, and Yobe. In 2024, it pledged another US$15 million to reach over 130,000 more. 

“We cannot talk about algebra when they haven’t eaten,” said Mohammad Bunu, an educationist working with displaced and vulnerable children in northeastern Nigeria. The real crisis isn’t infrastructure; it’s the disconnect between formal education models and the survival realities of children in camps and communities, he said.

Bunu calls for a shift toward community-based education that combines basic literacy with vocational training, such as carpentry, tailoring, agriculture, and technology. “They need a path beyond begging or just attending school. Reintegration isn’t only for ex-combatants. We must invest in skills that restore dignity.

Longkat Enock, a clinical psychologist, adds that education must have structured emotional support. “You can’t heal a broken society if you ignore its broken children,” he warned. “They’ve seen killings, starvation and abandonment, yet no one asks how they feel.”

Longkat advocates for trained counsellors, safe spaces, and mentorship. “If we keep acting like food and books alone are enough, we’ll be here again in ten years, facing even more shattered futures.”

“We’re not just talking about children missing school, we’re talking about children missing entire stages of development,” said Bunu. “In many of these camps, there’s no structure, no routine, no trained teachers. It’s impossible to talk about rebuilding a society without rebuilding its education system first.”

The coordinators of a makeshift displacement camp at the Government Day Science Secondary School (GDSSS) in Bama say they host over 109,000 people, including more than 64,000 children.

When HumAngle visited the GDSSS school within the camp, the classrooms were empty, and only five teachers were present. “We don’t have more than 50 pupils attending class regularly,” one teacher said.

“When these boys grow up without any care, what will they turn into?” asked Bulama Abdu, a community elder in Bama. “We suffered from one generation of angry boys with guns. Are we raising another?”

“Conflict doesn’t end by hosting displaced people at camps or even back to their communities. If children are left without education, stability, or guidance, the trauma festers. They become vulnerable to criminality, violence, even new forms of extremism,” Enock added.

This concern is similar in post-conflict zones. In South Sudan, neglected war-affected youth became prime targets for militia recruitment. In post-war Liberia, years of childhood abandonment fed into cycles of urban violence. The Nigerian government has refused to articulate a long-term reintegration and education policy specifically targeting children displaced or affected by the Boko Haram conflict. 

Reintegration efforts in the northeastern region largely prioritise ex-combatants, neglecting civilian victims and displaced children. Education-in-emergencies programs, such as learning centres for orphans, remain donor-dependent and limited in scale. Just 27 per cent of school-aged children in humanitarian response plans have received adequate education support, leaving the vast majority without access.

Health educators note that many Nigerians resist birth control on religious grounds. One family-planning counsellor explained that when the term for “family planning” (literally “limiting birth”) was introduced in Hausa (“Kaiyadde Iyali”), people instantly objected, asking, “Who are you to limit birth?”.  They cite Qur’anic teaching that “Allah will provide for all children.” Many of them see large families as divinely ordained and avoid family planning on faith-based grounds.

Traditional socioeconomics also favour big families.  In rural northern society, women live mostly at home and rely on children for chores and farm work.  Children thus serve as household labour and social security.  Having many sons or daughters brings status and assistance.

When HumAngle randomly spoke to some young persons in Maiduguri, the sentiment was nearly unanimous: family planning is perceived as a Western concept, alien to their values. Most respondents said they desired at least eight children, with several aiming for ten or more. “It is God who takes care of children,” said one of the young men. “Every child comes with their destiny. If he makes it, he will make it. If not, nothing the parents do will change that.”

For 27-year-old Adamu Ali, fathering ten children is part of his plan. “At least five of them will grow up to look after me when I’m old,” he said with conviction. His rationale is not uncommon in most northern communities where the collapse of formal social safety nets has reinforced the reliance on children as a form of long-term security.

UNICEF reports that Borno has one of Nigeria’s highest out-of-school rates, as roughly 1.8 million children lack access to schooling. A study found that conflict-affected women showed increased preference for larger families, viewing “more children as a coping strategy amid insecurity, seeking enhanced social and economic security, or replacing lost members during the conflict”. 

In other words, families often cling to the belief that God will provide for any children they have, even when resources vanish.  Humanitarian workers and relatives thus become the de facto caregivers for these unplanned generations, as villagers insist on growing their families in the hope of divine provision.

The ongoing boko haram conflict has shattered traditional support systems. Where once extended families or religious communities would help raise children, displacement and poverty have made that impossible.

“We don’t plan children,” said Hajja Fatima, a 45-year-old widow in Maiduguri raising six children alone. “That is God’s work. If he gives, you take.”

Frederick M. Nicholas, a war hero, attorney and real estate developer who shaped several of Los Angeles’ major arts and public service institutions, died peacefully at his home Saturday. He was 105.

Nicholas led the design and development of major L.A. landmarks, including the Museum of Contemporary Art and Walt Disney Concert Hall.

Surprisingly enough, Nicholas discovered his love of the arts in law school at the University of Chicago. “When I went downtown, I saw an art gallery for the first time,” he said in a 2022 YouTube interview with Blake Meidel, a young film creator. “I went inside and I looked at it and I was overwhelmed.”

When he returned to L.A., where he had studied journalism at USC, Nicholas took classes in the visual arts and built a law practice that included representation of artists and galleries. He took on several distinguished roles in the arts community, serving as MOCA’s chairman and vice chairman for a cumulative 11 years and a life trustee for the remainder of his life. Nicholas was instrumental to the development of the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA and Walt Disney Concert Hall.

It is little wonder that he was nicknamed “Mr. Downtown Culture.” In the 1980s, Nicholas led the city out of a cultural stasis and turned it into a global cultural and architectural powerhouse.

“Fred, we literally wouldn’t be L.A. without you,” former mayor Eric Garcetti said in a message to Nicholas on his 100th birthday.

Renowned architect Frank Gehry told The Times that Nicholas’ involvement in MOCA “was too good to be true.”

“He is an extremely smart man, and he’s sensitive. He’s been involved in and interested in the arts as a collector,” Gehry said in 1982. “He understands both the architecture and business of development. He knows all the players involved with the museum, and he has their respect. When I heard he was involved I thought it was too good to be true. I know he can pull it off.”

Nicholas negotiated with Giuseppe Panza of Varese, Italy, to acquire the Panza Collection. Including works from Mark Rothko, Franz Kline and others, the art now forms the core of MOCA’s permanent collection.

As chair of the Walt Disney Hall Concert Committee beginning in 1987, Nicholas headed a committee to find an architect (Gehry was eventually hired for the coveted gig), fundraise and plan the building process.

Over 105 years, Nicholas engaged with some of history’s greatest artists. “I met Pablo Picasso and I had dinner with him,” he told Meidel breezily.

Nicholas’ influence in L.A. extended into the realm of public service as well. After an incredibly successful law career, he shifted to pro bono work. “I thought that lawyers should do something to help the poor,” Nicholas told Meidel. Nicholas founded Public Counsel in 1970, which provided legal support to vulnerable people, including veterans and unhoused families, in what is now the largest firm of its kind in the U.S.

“Public Counsel really is his greatest legacy,” Nicholas’ son, Anthony Nicholas, told The Times on Tuesday. “They are still helping people today.”

Nicholas was born on May 30, 1920 in Brooklyn, N.Y. When he was 14, his family moved to L.A. In 1941, Nicholas served in the Army and was discharged five years later.

“One of the things that made me successful in law was that I was always in a hurry. I was always eager to move because I felt that I had lost so much time in the war. I had to make it up,” Nicholas, one of the oldest and most decorated WWII veterans, said in a retrospective on his life and work at age 100.

Nicholas was also adored by his family. Anthony recalled his father’s “beaming smile,” “great, great energy” and “the love he spread around the world.”

Nicholas is survived by his children, Deborah, Jan and Anthony; Anthony’s wife Mona; six grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; and sister Helen Devor.

Darrell Wayne Lukas, known to the general public as D. Wayne and to friends simply as Wayne or as “The Coach” if you were in the business, died on Saturday after a brief illness. He was 89.

Lukas’ career, which started in Southern California in 1968, not only built a recognizable brand but helped shape horse racing for more than 50 years. He won 15 Triple Crown races among his lifetime win total of 4,953, having run horses in 30,436 races. His horses earned more than $300 million.

He died at his home in Louisville, Ky., after being diagnosed with a severe MRSA blood infection that affected his heart, digestive system and worsened preexisting chronic conditions. Lukas decided against an aggressive treatment plan that involved surgeries and round-the-clock assistance. Instead, he returned home and entered hospice care.

“It is with heavy hearts that we share the passing of our beloved husband, grandfather and great-grandfather D. Wayne Lukas. who left this world peacefully [Saturday] evening at the age of 89 surrounded by family,” the Lukas family said in a statement released by Churchill Downs.

“His final days were spent at home in Kentucky, where he chose peace, family and faith. As we grieve at his passing, we find peace knowing he is now reunited with his beloved son, Jeff, whose memory he carried in his heart always.

“We are deeply grateful for the outpouring of love, prayers and support from all corners of the racing community — from ractetracks across the country to lifelong friends and respected rivals, and from fans who never missed a post parade when ‘Lukas’ was listed in the program.”

His illness was announced on June 22 along with the decision that he would not return to training. All of his horses were transferred to his longtime assistant Sebastian “Bas” Nicholl.

“Wayne built a legacy that will never be matched.” said Nicholl upon learning Lukas was not returning to racing. “Every decision I make, every horse I saddle, I’ll hear his voice in the back of my mind. This isn’t about filling his shoes — no one can — it’s about honoring everything he’s built.”

Lukas was so good that he was in not one but two halls of fame. He was inducted into the American Quarter Horse Hall of Fame in 2007 and the U.S. Racing Hall of Fame in 1999.

“Wayne is one of the greatest competitors and most important figures in thoroughbred racing history,” said Mike Anderson, president of Churchill Downs racetrack in Kentucky, after the Lukas family announced the severity of his illness. “He transcended the sport of horse racing and took the industry to new levels. The lasting impact of his character and wisdom — from his acute horsemanship to his unmatched attention to detail — will be truly missed.”

Lukas’ story started on a small farm in Wisconsin.

Bill Dwyre, who previously was the sports editor of L.A. Times and the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, recently chronicled Lukas’ roots.

“Lukas did not grow up on some farm in Kentucky, mucking stables as a teenager and rubbing elbows all day, every day, with grizzled horsemen,” Dwyre wrote last year after Lukas won the Preakness with Seize the Grey. “Lukas did grow up on a farm, all right, but in the state of Wisconsin, where there is no parimutuel betting, and where horse racing is pretty much confined to county fairs. His birthplace, Antigo, Wis., an hour and a half northwest of Green Bay, had a fair and D. Wayne … liked the horses.

Trainer D. Wayne Lukas looks on as Preakness Stakes winner Seize the Grey cools down after a workout ahead of the 156th running of the Belmont Stakes in 2024.

(Julia Nikhinson / Associated Press)

“But that sort of career was not foremost in his mind. He went to the University of Wisconsin, got his master’s degree in education, started teaching and soon was a high school head basketball coach. For a while, he was an assistant coach in the Big Ten for UW’s John Erickson. He stayed close to the game of basketball, even as his days were dominated by barns and backstretches. Along the way, one of his best friends became Bob Knight. D. Wayne liked the toughness and drive to win of the legendary Indiana University coach.”

Lukas decided to try his hand at training and started at Los Alamitos in 1968 working with quarter horses. It took him 10 years to realize that the real stars — and the money — was in thoroughbred racing. Before leaving the quarter horse ranks, he won 739 races and saddled 24 world champions.

He won his first thoroughbred race on Oct. 20, 1977, at Santa Anita. He won his last race at Churchill Downs on June 12 with 4-year-old colt Tour Player.

In between, he won the Kentucky Derby four times, the Preakness seven times and the Belmont Stakes four times. He has won 20 Breeders’ Cup races. He won the Eclipse Award for top trainer four times and was the leading trainer by wins four straight years from 1987 to 1990. In 1995, he won all three Triple Crown races but with two different horses; Thunder Gulch won the Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes and Timber Country won the Preakness. It was the first time a trainer accomplished that feat.

“The most enduring and essential sports legacies can also be the most complicated,” wrote NBC’s Tim Layden, a multiple Eclipse Award-winning journalist, upon learning of Lukas’ illness. “The very best are not just driven, but obsessive. Not just creative, but ingenious. Not just hungry, but voracious. Jordan. Woods. Ali. Armstrong. Rose. One of Lukas’ favorites, and a close friend: Bob Knight. To name a few. … Transcendence demands a selfish eccentricity; because greatness and normalcy are often mutually exclusive. Lukas has lived long enough to earn a warm embrace that he would not have received as a younger man, but that embrace alone doesn’t tell enough of his outsized story and his place in racing history, where he stands very much alone.”

Lukas first made his thoroughbred mark in 1980 when he won the Preakness with Codex. It was not a popular win as Codex beat Derby-winning filly Genuine Risk and then had to withstand an inquiry to officially give Lukas his first Triple Crown win.

Bookending that win was his last Triple Crown race victory, when he won the Preakness last year with Seize the Grey.

“One of the things that was very significant to me [that day] — and maybe it’s because I’m getting a little bit older — but as I came out of the grandstand and out across the racetrack, every one of the guys that were in that race stopped and hugged me and gave me a handshake,” Lukas told The Times after the race.

“That meant more to me than any single thing. [Bob] Baffert, Kenny McPeek, right down the line.”

Lukas did not get the nickname Coach because of his days as a basketball coach but because of the coaching tree he established during his tenure.

Among those that were his assistants were Hall of Famer Todd Pletcher, future Hall of Famer Brad Cox, Kiaran McLaughlin, Dallas Stewart, Mike Maker, Mark Hennig, Randy Bradshaw, George Weaver and Bobby Barnett.

Among those Lukas was closest to, but never worked for, is Baffert.

“I asked him for a job one time out of high school, and he turned me down,” Baffert told The Times in 2018, while he was on his Triple Crown run with Justify. “I tell him, ‘I’m sure glad you turned me down because you’d be taking all the credit for this.’ But he probably would have fired me after two weeks because he works way too hard.”

Lukas later introduced Baffert at his U.S. Racing Hall of Fame induction ceremony.

“He told me everybody was laughing and kidding [when they heard I was inducting him,]” Lukas told The Times in 2018. “They were saying he’s not going to have Wayne do it because they thought we were rivals. Yet he came to me, and I said, ‘Bob, I’ll be honored to present you.’ And I did.”

“The media portrayed us as rivals and everything, so we would go along with you guys and then we’d go to dinner later,” Lukas said of Baffert.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. I have great respect for his ability. He’s got an excellent eye for a horse. He’s one of the few guys in the sale that when I pick one out that I like, I know sure as hell he’ll be bidding too.”

Seize the Grey’s trainer, D. Wayne Lukas, left, shakes hands with Bob Baffert, Imagination’s trainer, after Lukas’ horse won the Preakness Stakes in 2024.

(Julia Nikhinson / Associated Press)

In fact, this year at the Preakness Alibi Breakfast, an annual affair at Pimlico where trainers, owners and others tell stories and trade barbs about their career and horses, Lukas and Baffert hijacked the event with witty repartee and joking much to the delight of those in attendance. Their friendship was borne out as genuine.

“The horses were everything to Wayne,” Baffert posted on X after learning of Lukas’ death. “They were his life. From the way he worked them, how he cared for them, and how he maintained his shedrow as meticulously as he did his horses. No detail was too small. Many of us got our graduate degrees in training by studying how Wayne did it. Behind his famous shades, he was a tremendous horseman, probably the greatest who ever lived.”

Lukas’ life on the racetrack had one significant downside, when his son and assistant, Jeff, was run over and permanently injured by a loose horse at Santa Anita in 1993.

“I have a phone with one of those long cords,” Lukas told The Times’ Dwyre in 1999, “and so, I was up and walking around and right near the door when it happened. I was the first one to get to him.”

“One of Lukas’ Triple Crown prospects, Tabasco Cat, had bolted and was loose,” Dwyre wrote. “Jeff Lukas, a veteran horseman well schooled in the procedures for such situations, had stepped in Tabasco Cat’s path and was waving his arms. Horses always stop, or veer away. But this time…

“It’s like when you meet somebody in a narrow hallway,” Lukas said. “You go right and he goes right, and then you both go the other way. But eventually, one goes right and one left. Well, Jeff and the horse both went the same way.”

“Witnesses say that the sound of Jeff Lukas’ head hitting hard, compact ground after the collision could be heard several barns away. There was no blood, just an unconscious, badly injured 36-year-old man.”

The next year, Jeff Lukas had recovered enough to return to the racetrack but it proved too difficult for him to work around horses safely. Jeff eventually moved to Oklahoma and lived in a home his father bought him until Jeff’s death in 2016 at age 58.

Santa Anita issued this statement on Sunday after learning of Lukas’ death.

“Santa Anita joins the racing community in mourning the passing of D. Wayne Lukas. … His on-track success was such that it was easy to overlook his outstanding horsemanship that we were lucky to often witness back at the barn, away from the spotlight.”

Funeral arrangements for Wayne Lukas were not immediately announced.

Lukas is survived by his fifth wife, Laurie; grandchildren Brady Wayne Lukas and Kelly Roy; and great-grandchildren Johnny Roy, Thomas Roy, Walker Wayne Lukas and Quinn Palmer Lukas.

IN 2015, 12 twentysomething singles walked into a Majorcan villa for the very first time – and ­viewers fell head over heels for Love Island.

The premise was simple: couple up and don’t get dumped, to win £50,000.

Ten years on, psychologist Dr Louise Goddard-Crawley says: “Love Island rewired the way we think about love, attraction and even language. It normalised enhanced beauty.”

With the 12th series kicking off next Monday, here we look at how the show shaped the nation.

SKIMPIER SWIMWEAR

10

THE Islanders’ clothes — or lack of — made us reassess our own poolside wardrobes.

Thongs stole the show in 2018, with contestants including Laura Anderson and Georgia Steel wearing the painful-looking cheese-string variety.

Sales of thong bikinis subsequently soared as the nation got on board.

But a family-friendly pool in Lincolnshire banned customers from wearing “thongs or see-through” garments, dubbing it the “Love Island effect”.

In 2019, Molly-Mae Hague and Yewande Biala helped spark an underboob revolution, while 2022 contestant, Antigoni Buxton, inspired us to turn swimwear tops on their head, with searches for “upside-down bikini” rising by 203 per cent.

Sun Fashion Editor Clemmie Fieldsend says: “At the start of each series I’m hit with a barrage of emails from retailers reading, ‘Get the Love Island look’ as they all quickly roll out the on-trend swimwear for that year.”

MAKE-UP RITUALS

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AS well as putting their love lives under the spotlight, the Islanders revealed their beauty hacks.

In 2018, Dani Dyer brushed her false eyelashes with a spoolie and blasted them with a hairdryer to give them a fluffy look.

The following summer, Molly-Mae sparked the top-knot trend after she gave a tutorial on how to achieve her trademark hairdo, while in the show’s Beach Hut.

And last year, Ella Thomas changed the way we cleanse our faces when she blew on a cotton pad soaked in micellar water — causing the liquid to foam.

A TikTok video on the tip has 13.8million views.

THE LOVE ISLE LOOK

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BOOB jobs, fillers, Botox — you name it, a Love Island contestant has had it.

Every summer, fans take to Google to see what islanders looked like before their tweakments, with bombshell Megan Barton-Hanson’s transformation one of the most talked about.

The “Love Island Effect” has been blamed for a boom in the number of women — many of them young or even teenagers — seeking cosmetic procedures.

One plastic surgeon said that requests for dermal fillers increased twelve-fold after last year’s series. Demand for other tweakments at High Street salons is up 31 per cent in five years.

However, many former contestants such as Molly-Mae and Shaughna Phillips have had their filler dissolved.

And series two’s Malin Andersson, has given up Botox.

TOXIC ISLANDERS

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THE show has made headlines over the years for demonstrating the problematic and toxic behaviour of both men and women.

In 2019, domestic abuse charity Women’s Aid accused Adam Collard of “gaslighting” Rosie Williams by denying he was flirting with Zara McDermott, who he later ended up with.

Similarly, in 2022 the charity was “forced” to speak to ITV after being tagged by viewers in social media posts criticising Luca Bish for his “misogynistic and controlling behaviour” towards screen partner Gemma Owen.

Contestants have also faced bullying claims.

Earlier this year, media watchdog Ofcom received thousands of complaints about All Stars contestant Elma Pazar’s “alleged bullying” of co-star Ekin-Su Culculoglu during an argument.

However, the pair were soon shown working through their fall-out before making up.

THE LINGO

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REMEMBER the time when “muggy” referred to the ­weather and “my type on paper” was just a font?

The show’s catchphrases have left a lasting impression on the English language.

“The ick”, made popular by Olivia Attwood, was added to the Cambridge Dictionary in 2024, defined as “a sudden feeling of dislike or loss of attraction towards someone or something”.

Linguist and interpreter Ana Clarke says the show’s own lingo has even helped British men drop the stiff upper lip and better express ­emotions.

She said: “Now we see younger males talking about their feelings. They talk about ‘my type on paper’, ‘being mugged off’, ‘keeping their options open’.

“They often talk about relationships and use the word ‘journey’.”

Other terms popularised by the show include “pied” (to be dumped); “it is what it is” (that’s the situation); “putting all my eggs in their basket” (focusing on one person); and “melt” (liking someone so much that you don’t mind embarrassing yourself to prove it).

MENTAL HEALTH

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SADLY, Love Island has been hit by a number of tragedies, which highlighted how reality TV shows that thrive on ­conflict and emotions can harm the mental health of contestants.

After the suicides of former Islanders Sophie Gradon (series two) and Mike ­Thalassitis (series three) and presenter Caroline Flack within a period of 20 months, ITV was thrown into turmoil.

Bosses introduced new duty-of-care protocols including pre-show psych-ological and medical assessments, training on social media impacts and ongoing support both during and after the programme aired.

Following Caroline’s shock death early 2020, Love Island and its sponsor JustEat replaced advertising with messages from charity Samaritans.

PR expert Nick Ede said: “ITV understood that they do have a duty of care. They put in place stringent guidelines to really support each of the contestants.

“After Caroline, it was important for them to support their viewers as well.”

A STAR IS BORN

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A BEVVY of beauties have found fame on the show — becoming some of the our most talked about and successful celebs.

Even the losers have walked away winners thanks to lucrative brand deals or showbiz gigs.

Nick Ede says: “They are kind of relatable. Millions feel they could be with them or be on Love Island.” Season five runner-up Molly-Mae has been the most successful influencer.

She has made an estimated £6million from deals with Pretty Little Thing, L’Oreal and Beauty Works.

She now has a daughter with her Love Island boyfriend boxer Tommy Fury, her own clothing line and a docuseries with Amazon Prime Video.

Ovie Soko, Dani Dyer and Kem Cetinay also raked it in from brand deals.

Alex and Olivia Bowen have a son and are worth almost £10million, mainly due to ­sponsored Instagram deals. Maura ­Higgins has fashion and beauty deals and hosts a US Love Island spin-off.

Olivia Attwood makes document-aries and a podcast.

Amber Davies is a West End star.

FASHION FOOTPRINT

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CUT-OUT dresses and co-ords and, for men, spray-on jeans were all popularised on the show.

The early seasons’ contestants were dressed by sponsors including fast-fashion retailers I Saw It First and Missguided, but it soon sparked a backlash.

In 2022, the show made headlines by announcing it would now dress the Islanders in pre-owned outfits from eBay, to promote more sustainable shopping habits.

PR expert Nick Ede said it was a savvy move by ITV to appeal to eco-conscious Gen Z.

“It opened them up to a whole new generation,” says Nick. “We know younger audiences are more conscious when it comes to clothing.”

ONE SIZE FITS ALL

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YOU can’t deny there is a ­stereotypical Love Island look.

While the show has included contestants such as Tasha Ghouri, who is deaf and wears a cochlear implant, raising awareness around her disability, it has been criticised for ­failing to include any plus-size contestants.

Dating coach Eimear Draper says: “TV shows such as Love Island are putting a huge amount of pressure on beauty standards. For those who already ­struggle with self- esteem, this is concerning.”

Eimear, founder of Kindling Dating, adds: “All the women look the same with their ­bikinis, tanned skin and long, flowing hair.

“The Love Island guys likeChris Hughes are all hunks. They are buff. They, too, are tanned and tattooed.”

Young blokes have been warned by the group UK Anti-Doping not to resort to performance-enhancing drugs to achieve “ripped” physiques,

Periodically, Love Island has also been accused of tokenism, with often only one or two black contestants each series. Last year, Mimii Ngulube and Josh Oyinsan became the first black couple to be crowned winners.

LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX

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IN the early days, the show was a bit of a bonkfest.

Ofcom received complaints about one couple getting busy in front of their rival housemates in series two.

And Miss Great Britain Zara Holland was stripped of her pageant title after getting it on with Alex Bowen.

Series three winners Kem Cetinay and Amber Davies were also at it like rabbits.

In 2018, producers decided to stop showing sex scenes. Nowadays, you might just get a glimpse of a headboard banging or happy feet under the sheets.

But experts reckon the show has, in some ways, sexually empowered women.

Therapist Sergio Rebelo says: “Many women on the show are unafraid to talk about their bodies and sexuality. This can encourage others to discuss their own sexuality.”

Case in point: Maura ­Higgins talking about which of the men gave her “fanny flutters”.

Then there’s ex-stripper Megan Barton-Hanson, who was on Love Island in 2018 and later paired up with Ann ­Summers to launch her own range of sex toys.