The mountain introduced itself first.
I did not believe people lived there. As we climbed higher into the Mambila Plateau, I expected isolation. What I met instead was an entire city sitting confidently on the mountain. Nearly 20,000 people. Banks. Hotels. Churches. Mosques. People going about their lives. That moment forced me to pause and rethink everything I thought I knew about remoteness and resilience.
Then there was the cold. Even at midday, the air cut through in a way Abuja never does. Living here requires a different kind of preparation. A different kind of endurance.
Getting to Gembu town was only the beginning. Reaching Mayo Ndaga and Sah Kahkah, where ActionAid is implementing the school feeding programme, required another two hours on a motorcycle, navigating winding mountain paths. That was how I met Baby Face.
Baby Face became my constant companion on those roads. He navigated those mountain paths with the confidence of someone who’d memorized every turn. Up the mountain. Down the mountain. Day after day. In between the long rides, we talked. When I asked about his family, he spoke first of his parents. When I asked about a wife and children, he laughed and said he was not married yet. He wanted to finish school first. Baby Face is in 300 level at the Institute of Management and Technology in Gembu. His dream is to graduate and work in development.
That conversation stayed with me. Not because it was dramatic, but because it was ordinary. A young man navigating difficult terrain while holding tightly to his education and his future.
In the mountain communities, days start early. Parents leave home to work on small farms. Children prepare for school or help with chores before class. Markets are far. Roads are rough. Access costs more – in time, in money, in energy. Hunger does not always announce itself loudly, but it shows up in quiet ways. Children arriving at school without eating. Reduced meals at home when harvests are low. Energy levels dropping. Attendance becoming irregular.
This is why the school feeding intervention matters.
In Mayo Ndaga and Sah Kahkah, the programme provides daily nutritious meals to children. It responds directly to a simple truth the community already knew. Hunger was affecting enrolment, attendance, and learning. When the meals arrived, the response was relief. Parents spoke about the weight lifted from their shoulders, knowing that at least one meal a day was guaranteed.
The impact became real for me watching the children line up. Bowls in hand. Smiling. Present. They were not just in school. They were engaged. Learning had space to happen.
The visit humbled me. Not just because of the hours on the bike or the physical strain, but because of what the community revealed. An entire city on a mountain. Young people like Baby Face pursuing education despite the odds. Families continuing to farm, teach, and hope in a place where access makes everything harder and more expensive.
What gives me hope is the connection between opportunity and ambition. When basic needs are met, dreams feel possible.
Yet many needs remain unmet. More meals when harvests fail. Roofs that don’t leak when the rains come. Books that don’t have to be shared between five children. A clinic close enough to reach before a fever gets dangerous. Continued support would mean stability. It would mean children staying in school consistently. Better nutrition. Families planning beyond survival.
This is where Community Sponsorship matters.
Consistent monthly support creates predictability. It allows programmes like school feeding and support for women farmers to continue without interruption. For communities like Mayo Ndaga and Sah Kahkah, consistency builds trust. It strengthens systems. It ensures that children do not have to wonder if tomorrow’s meal will be there.
If I could speak directly to someone considering supporting this work, I would say this. Your support travels farther than you imagine. Up winding mountain roads. Through cold air. Into classrooms where children simply want the chance to learn.
The image I carry with me from Gembu is simple. Children in a mountain community, bowls in hand, laughing together after a meal. Seen. Valued. Supported.
My name is Ugochukwu Onuoha and I Donate to ActionAid Community Sponsorship and experiences such as this make it all worthwhile. It goes beyond the amount donated to the impact and smiles on the faces of children, hope restored in communities across Nigeria.
Kindly join me to make a difference.