The ones I call mine:

Not by blood but by heart.

Two schools. The early years (2002) - a startup and the high school (2018) - a memorial. Both in two different locations. Asides the bits and pieces of every other odd thing I have ever done, this is where I have found my purpose. Not a stagnant, cast in stone purpose... but some sort of fluid purpose that embraces everything within the confines of raising children holistically.

I have been different things to different people. Aunty Uzo, Mrs Uzo, Mrs Eni. Mummy, Mother, Mom. Even to those who consistently deal me a back hand. Yet, with the various backhands, I still stand because I have no other choice. This is my last bus stop. Has always been. Will always be.

I literally have spent sweat, time, creativity, gold, tears as currencies. I sold my gold to buy plastic chairs. Who sells gold to buy plastic? That might be perceived as tantamount to retrogression - from the enduring to the destructible still, I have done this for years. One year learning the ropes and twenty two years running my show. Or rather our show. The startup happened in Aba and the memorial happened in Calabar. Both Tenderhearts schools and Eni Memorial high have amalgamated into one. It's been a very rewarding journey and I can only be thankful. Our destination is still far off but come to think of it ...is there actually a destination? The journey is the destination. The vision and mission are the vehicles and fluidity and motion are the keys.

My school story has so many parts. The story of the journey from rentals to ownership is one complete post. Not yet time. The banks and the quest for funds... another Substack post. Still not time. There is so much in between. Today, I am ruminating on my feelings, the way I have never felt them for the twenty three years I have looked after other peoples children.

I got into Aba after spending a gurelling 7 hours in the road on Wednesday, the 2nd of October, 2024. This was just meant to be a three hour journey at its max. However, reoccurring bad governance has kept us that way for what seems like eternity. Due to wear and tear on my person and my vehicle, I haven't been here for more than 3 days in a stretch in recent times. It always feels very transitional. And all the different times I have come, I fold my hands in akimbo and wonder who sent me. It’s always in a bad state of repair. Everything and anything that needed to be done required a stupendous amount of patience, time, effort and money. And I didn't have any of those. I really don't have the pictures to show the terrible sights of different stages of rundown because my hands were always at akimbo in shock, disgust and annoyance. I wish I had. I would always go back to Calabar, sick to my innards. Today, my thoughts were zigzagging through my brain. The consternation I felt inside was visible through the arches that formed on my otherwise speckled and spectacled face. How were we going to navigate retracing our steps, repositioning ourselves and preparing for our future? Movement is the only thing going for me. That's what I have never given up on. In the deepest throes of depression, confusion and being overwhelmed, I move.

My spirit and soul were scared and my body, tired and dispirited. The children I met were cute and really gorgeous but not present - just following the motions. Sleep, wake up, hygiene routines, breakfast, lessons, lunch, non-existent break time, lessons, closure, prep for the boarders, dinner and sleep. The next day, same thing and the next day, same thing. This wasn't what I had envisioned. This wasn't the journey, and this wasn’t my idea of the passengers. Remember, a house filled with awesome treasures? This wasn’t looking like it. I knew I wasn't going to leave these children as I met them, neither was I going to leave the school like I met it.

So work began…the sweat and all other things that follow. I realize that often times, I find myself working with extra ingenuity because of limited funds. My creativity never sleeps - literally. I've mastered the art of recycling and thinking outside the box, turning constraints into opportunities and seeing with an invisible third eye. I am thankful to God for the gift. You might also wonder about the financial side - fees, I mean. Yes, that. We're always running at a deficit, pushed deeper by recent growth and expansion, relocation costs, and the infinite bite of inflation. But our biggest financial burden has been funding capital projects with those short-term, very needed, extremely stupid, high-interest bank loans. Very dumb economics, yes, but those were the lemons life gave us, so we made our own special blend of lemonade. It's kept us going - maybe more of a limp than measured strides, but we're still moving forward and for this, we remain eternally grateful to God. We hold onto hope that someday, help and a breakthrough will come our way. Until then, we keep pushing forward.

Through a delicate balance of selling, buying, pleading, and juggling, things started falling into place. We began with paint - amazing how a simple coat can breathe new life into even the most neglected spaces.

One by one, we tackled the essentials: lighting, generators, and every student’s dream - games. From basketball to football, volleyball to lawn tennis, table tennis to badminton, and even board games - each got its turn. (We are not yet done. No markings on the floor yet. But it will be done.)

We refined our daily routine - tweaking meals and service, restructuring timetables to embrace sports, vocational practicum, rehearsals, and club activities. But our most important work was with our humans. For staff, it was about transformation - nurturing a mindset of ownership and mindfulness. For the children, especially our boarders, it went deeper. I came to know each one of them. Some opened their hearts completely, others shared what they could while holding back some - but I knew enough to know I couldn't stay away from them for long stretches anymore. They were all unique: the quiet ones, the chatterboxes, those craving attention, the ones carrying trauma, our resident comedians - every single one. As long as they were in my care - and even beyond if they allowed it - I was committed to being present in their lives.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

That was when I truly came close to understanding the GenZ. I had always categorized them as humans dedicated and committed to self, self and self. I began to look at them with another set of eyes. These were children bearing their burdens and the burdens of the adults surrounding them. Their brains, chaotic  compartments with far flung challenges worked overtime. I hugged them for warmth, hugged them as they cried, watched them as they held on to matters out of their control. I spoke as much as I could and they listened and took in as much as they could take in. We couldn't find a magic wand that would flip the switch to their desires but one thing we all agreed on was that we had each other and for now, that would do.

As we set up our arenas, I watched them bubble forth from the sullen adolescents with no avenue for expression to live wires. Some found their smiles easier and faster than others.

You could hear laughter echoing as they moved from one arena to the other. That, I tell you is the most important payment I get for being in the lives of these children I call mine. Children not related to me by blood but by heart. The sense of fulfillment that accompanies that payment is stronger than any existing world currency. I am at peace. All my challenges forgotten till I remember them again. The only thing that has occupied my entire existence presently is that we were able to make that connection and that was when I confirmed that my main purpose on this journey is tied to the wellbeing of these children I call mine.

The spark is real. My heart is filled with laughter as I remember Marvelous asking her mum to come and meet her mum. Her mum was wondering who her mum was till I surfaced. Imelda handed me a note and I felt it burning through my pockets. I knew I had to talk with her. I assured her things were just going to be ok.

Favour, my first Techgirl enthusiast. She remembers her loss, and her face becomes tear stained. She will be ok. Gege wants to be a psychologist... we spoke about Myers Briggs and I knew she was on the right path. Meme wants to be a writer..... I promised to introduce her to Substack. Precious, a Nurse practitioner. Amanda that wouldn't smile had come full circle. I knew that smile would stay on till I returned. Chinedu, Kennedy, Obinna, we had our share of talks. Obinna gave the vote of thanks for upgrading the facility. I was shaking my head. I love those children I call mine.

Sunday, October 20th and time to get back to base. I came down from my room and there they were, at the base of the stairs. The hugs again, the admonitions, the promises and the commitment to come back.

The boys were being boys but eventually, the hugs and the prayer for safety. Already looking forward to being back in Aba. I might not speak with them everyday, but I miss these children I call mine. So much. I will see you soon. ✌🏽&♥️!!!