How Lacking Access to a Device Could Ruin a Child’s Future
“Wainright, you have a guest!” A school staff called out to me from my desk in the 12th grade class at the Soltiamon Christian School System.
That was quite unusual, I didn’t receive guests on campus, except wherein my Dad or Uncle came to pick me up from school. But it was yet still morning, several hours away from being let out of classes.
As I walked down to the ground floor, a round, dark fellow smiled at me and stretched out his hands, “Hi, I’m Gboko.” Gboko would later become my co-host, media mentor and regularly purchase me donuts and shawarma for lunch.
In a bit of a furious but frustrating tone after our greetings, he asked, “Why is your phone switched off?” “My phone?” I thought. I had none, except my Mom’s that I would sneak out of her room at midnight to utilize the unpaid calls talking to my then-girlfriend.
I was in 12th grade, only a few months before I began taking full responsibility for my future.
About a week earlier, I had competed in the UN Women’s audition for co-host of the 12th Man SGBV (Sexual and Gender-based Violence) Radio Talk Show on UNMIL Radio (now ECOWAS Radio) in Monrovia, which was being implemented by the public relations firm, MBL Int’l.
I was selected as the “only high school student” (intentional emphasis for further reference) to qualify for the next stage of the audition among about 50 high school and university students, as well as professional media practitioners who were participating.
Short story, I later emerged as the winner of the audition process and went on to co-host the show for six months.
Writing about this experience, I still feel the thrills that came with my family and friends tuning in to the radio every Friday to listen to me speak. My dean had once permitted all students to tune in to the program. That was a joy. I remember how empowered I felt by being able to use my 16-year-old voice to speak about a critical social issue — sexual and gender-based violence.
Why am I telling you this story? It is not to communicate the beautiful imagery of how a high school student rose to fame by conquering all odds and becoming a hero. There are better and beautiful stories than this.
I want to take a different perspective — the one you may not think about now because all that may matter is that I was selected, and here I am several years later attempting to change the world.
I was fortunate.
Back to my guest on campus. I had no device. I was not interested in becoming a radio show host. My then-English teacher, Atty. Mmonbeydo Harrell, whose class I did not like much because of how grammatically complex it could be for a guy who cares more about “how” than “what,” had thought it was a good idea for me to compete.
I had been leading my school’s press club in the previous months, and she thought I did a great job at that. She recognized that potential, she believed in me — I did not. I was too scared, no confidence. I didn’t even know if that opportunity existed.
This is the story of several thousand high school students across Liberia today. Great potential, inherently talented, but a divide between them and the opportunities that could help transform them and create for them a better future they envision.
They do not have a Mrs. Harrell who would go through the complex situation of navigating my school’s bureaucracy and letting them know how important it was to let me out during class periods for my radio interviews. I’m glad she did.
Following Mrs. Harrell, my mentor, Mahmoud Koroma, embraced me immediately after was accepted to host the show. On one occasion before I knew what a mentor was, in 2014, he offered to mentor me because he saw a ‘potential’ in me and wanted to “help nurture [me] in my professional development.”
Mahmoud would teach me life lessons, provide professional guidance, help me navigate personal life issues and to extents, provide financial support where needed.
This is one challenge high school students are faced with every day: lacking access to resource and people to help nurture them and support their personal development. And by the time their skills and talents are not nurtured until they leave high school, it is nearly impossible to go after it. That’s how so much talent goes to waste every year in Liberia.
I wrote about the story of Jerrut Kulah about four years ago — the academic prodigy who the system denied a chance at becoming a star. Several of my friends are also victims.
My venture, TRIBE, has been working to address this problem, by creating innovative entrepreneurial programs and digital solutions particularly for high school students. We are overwhelmingly fascinated by the talents and passion in these young students, only waiting to be harnessed.
But here’s the twist.
They now have an opportunity, or at least some of them, but many lack the means to pursue it.
When Gboko asked me about my device on campus that day, he and the team had called the contact number I provided several times during the past week. I did not have a device of my own. Frustrated, but apparently impressed by a young student’s performance, he sought to go out after me even if that meant coming by my school.
He would later inform me that they were going to pass the opportunity on to another candidate. That may not have meant anything to me by then, but looking back now, I would cry at the thought of missing out on that opportunity.
It changed my life. That was my turning point.
Unfortunately, and painstakingly, I have had to make the hard decision of passing on opportunities from well-deserving students during the past months for our programs. You may download and read our impact report and hopefully you will share the same sentiments.
We offered a minimum fee for participants in our programs. For some, we waived the fees. Additionally, we provided weekly data packages for everyone to have access to the program since they required a significant amount of online engagements. Yet still, many students didn’t have devices to participate.
During our most recent program, we received nearly 70 sign-ups. To reduce the hurdles, we opened the program to the general public in addition to students who had already signed up. We broadcasted live on Facebook for non-high school students and everyone who was interested in the program. For all of the sessions we have had during the past month, only about 15 to 20 students have been participating through our direct Zoom platform.
When we reached out, findings from engagements with the students show that nearly 100% of the students didn’t show up due to internet data challenges or lack of smart devices.
We can only do so much. We also believe collaboration is a progressive approach to this systemic issue.
That is why we have created our fundraising and device drive to enable students to acquire opportunities and learning resources that can give them a chance at success.
This week, we are launching our Young Entrepreneurs Boot Camp — a four-week hybrid program consisting of virtual learning and in-person activities, primarily focused on Entrepreneurship and Digital Literacy training. The program aims to inspire the confidence of students, build their competence, and cultivate their entrepreneurial consciousness.
Will you be a Mrs. Harrell or Gboko?
You can support our mission by donating cash or devices at this link to enable a young student have a their own “audition moment.”
