By Onayi
Mentorship Coordinator, Girl-Child Education Project (GEP)

When my colleague Zira looked me in the eye and said, “Mimi, I want you to lead the mentorship program,” I knew it wasn’t just a passing task. It was a calling rooted in Connected Development’s (CODE) Girl-Child Education Project, supported by the Malala Fund. A calling that sits at the intersection of trust, lived experience, and the undeniable urgency of securing a better future for the Nigerian girl-child.

So, I packed my bags, laced my boots, and headed to Bauchi State, North Eastern Nigeria, the implementing state of the project, not just as a development worker, but as a believer in the cause. I was eager to embrace the full spectrum of the experience: from the breathtaking rock formations to the spicy aroma of local dishes, and of course, the renowned Yankari Game Reserve. It’s true what they say, a blend of work and play keeps Onayi’s mind sound.

Beneath the scenic landscapes and warm hospitality lie deeper truths. I had come to Bauchi to coordinate and monitor the implementation of our mentorship component. The mission: train female mentors in four local government areas of Alkaleri, Bauchi, Ningi, and Zaki, who would in turn mentor selected girls using our carefully designed curriculum and workbook. It sounded simple. I thought so too.

February marked my first trip to the implementing state. Before training began, we went through a meticulous selection process. We weren’t just looking for volunteers, we needed passionate, competent women who saw mentorship not as charity, but as a civic duty.

We trained these mentors on the ethics of mentorship, effective communication, and stress management. Pre- and post-evaluation results were promising. We left believing we had planted the seeds of transformation.

Fast forward to May. I was back to observe the mentor-mentee sessions in action. At Government Junior Secondary School, Tirwun, the energy was electric. The girls were enthusiastic and eager to learn. We noted that many of them understood Hausa better than English—thankfully, some of our materials had been translated.

The support from the school was strong. That evening, I returned to my hotel filled with cautious optimism.

As early as 6 a.m. the next morning, we were en route to Government Girls Junior Secondary School, Sakwa, Zaki LGA, a four-hour journey. There, I was met with a hard truth:

The girls couldn’t read. Not in English. Not in Hausa. Even more jarring, some of the teachers and the head teacher struggled to communicate in basic English. My heart sank. Literacy was a barrier too great to ignore, and mentorship alone would only scratch the surface.

On the drive back, I reflected on their silent cries for a fair chance, tired but resolute.

Alkaleri was closer, just an hour from the capital. It offered a glimmer of hope. The principal of Government Girls Arabic College welcomed us warmly. She believed in the program and personally led us around the school.

But the optimism was tempered by reality: no electricity, no water, and an overwhelming list of unmet needs. Still, the girls were vibrant and engaged. We flagged critical issues and carried with us both hope and concern.

By Friday, we made our way to Ningi. I fell ill that morning, but pressed on. The streets were crowded with worshippers heading for Jummat prayers. At the school, my heart broke.

The girls sat on bare floors, no desks, no proper learning materials, barely any resources. Yet their smiles were bright, their eagerness palpable. Many still struggled to read, but their spirit spoke volumes.

In each LGA, our School Monitoring Teams (SMTs) took meticulous notes. Reports, like those from my colleague Abdulazeez, revealed a troubling pattern: chronic underfunding, undertrained teachers, poor infrastructure, and systemic neglect.

But these weren’t just data points. These insights now inform Connected Development’s high-level stakeholder advocacy, from community dialogues with parents’ associations to direct engagements with SUBEB officials and the Commissioner for Education. Every story from the field becomes a reminder we carry into every decision-making room, because the voices from these communities deserve a seat at the table.

This mentorship program will run for three years, but our goal extends beyond the project timeline. At CODE, we prioritize sustainability by:

1. Training local community members and SMTs to understand how to access and track education budgets, empowering them to follow up on every project and demand accountability.
   
2. Selecting mentors from within the communities, women who reflect local values and inspire confidence in the girls they mentor. The message is simple but powerful: “If she can do it, so can you.”
   
3. Building local ownership, so that long after we’re gone, the structures we’ve helped create will continue to serve the girls who need them most.
   

It’s not just about a workbook or a training session. This project is about rewriting destinies.
And if that means doing it one girl at a time, then so be it.

For over a decade, Connected Development (CODE) has been at the forefront of citizen-led accountability, education advocacy, and community empowerment across Nigeria. Through initiatives like Follow The Money, Power of Voices, and the Girl-Child Education Project (supported by Malala Fund), CODE works to bridge the gap between policy and impact.

Our goal remains unwavering: amplify marginalized voices, track resources, and ensure every child, especially girls has the opportunity to learn, grow, and lead.

As I returned home to the warm embrace of my husband and children, my heart remained in Bauchi. It stayed with the girls in Zaki who couldn’t read, the resilient teachers in Alkaleri, and the empty desks in Ningi.

This is not the end. It’s only the beginning of a long, necessary journey, because educating a girl is not just a goal, it’s a strategy for nation-building.