In the heart of Makoko, a slum bustling with noise, Seun saw potential. Every corner was shadowed by graffiti-splashed walls, smoky food stalls, and the undeniable presence of young men who roamed in clusters. Their laughter, mingled with curses, was as sharp as the glint in their eyes—a glint hardened by a life that had offered them little.
Seun had been warned about this place, told stories of gang rivalries and the chokehold that cultism held on the youth. But as he packed his bags that morning, ready to move to Makoko, Seun knew that this was where he wanted to be.
He had come from a similar place, and had seen firsthand how life in such corners could devour dreams whole. So, although family and friends expressed concerns, he was so convinced that he moved with resolve.
When he relocated, the place welcomed him with a harsh air that hurt his throat and a tense atmosphere that made him feel unwelcome. Yet, he took it all in good faith. With time, he settled nicely, got the hang of the environment and life started moving in a predictable rhythm.
One evening, Seun parked his modest car and set up a wooden table under an old mango tree. His laptop, barely visible under the tree’s thick shade, glowed like a beacon. Around him, curious young faces peered, some skeptical, some amused. He wore his calm like a cloak, smiling openly at them as they stared.
“Hey, you there,” he called to a boy watching from the other side of the street. “You ever seen a website being built?”
The boy, Imoh, around fourteen with shoulders tensed from years of defending himself, hesitated, then shook his head. He wanted to look indifferent, but his eyes lingered.
“Come, sit,” Seun said, gesturing at the chair he’d set out.
Reluctantly, Imoh approached, followed by two other boys, one younger and one older, both eyeing Seun with a mixture of distrust and fascination. Seun, undeterred, launched into an animated explanation of what it meant to code, to create. He talked about building a future from pixels, how tech was transforming cities and countries.
From that day on, he returned each evening, setting up his laptop under the same tree. More boys came, drawn by curiosity, others by Seun’s quiet confidence and open grin. He listened to them, really listened. He learned their names, their stories, their hopes, and their fears. He learned that Imoh, despite his tough exterior, loved books and wanted to write. He learned that Dami, one of the “untouchables” in the neighborhood, once dreamt of becoming a doctor.
It wasn’t long before Seun’s humble tree-space transformed. Seun rallied for donations and secured funds to rent a small shack that they turned into a learning center. He called it The Boy’s Space. Every corner of the center was a reminder that someone believed in them. Old posters of university buildings lined the walls, and a single, slightly battered bookshelf held textbooks and novels, each one donated by well-wishers.
Inside the center, Seun taught the basics of tech—coding, graphic design, digital marketing—but he taught them so much more. “A man,” he would say, “doesn’t raise his fists to win respect. He raises his mind, raises his voice, raises his spirit.”
The community watched, a mixture of suspicion and awe slowly giving way to admiration. Parents noticed how their sons were no longer eager to roam the streets at dusk. They watched them pour over books, overheard them discussing things like “algorithms” and “user interfaces.” Other boys, hearing the chatter and laughter from The Boy’s Space, began drifting in.
In five years, Makoko was transformed. The old gangs had dissolved, replaced by a league of bright young men who were teaching their peers the same skills Seun had taught them. Some went on to attend universities, some started small businesses, while others returned to teach younger kids still living in the shadow of the slum’s history.
The area once known for gang rivalries and shattered dreams was now a haven of opportunity, a small but thriving tech hub in the heart of Makoko. And at the center of it all stood Seun, his once modest center now expanded into a full community resource. And as each new group of boys found their way to him, he greeted them the same way he’d greeted Imoh that first night—with a smile and the open invitation to dream bigger than the walls of Makoko, to reach farther than their hands could touch, and to know that he would always be there to guide them.
**
Every year, on International Men’s Day is a reminder of how men are pillars in our society and we can’t afford to neglect grooming boys into the kind of men we all admire. This year’s focus is positive role models and the story I’ve shared depicts the kind of change society needs. Enough talking and complaining about the boys roaming the streets and stirring trouble. It’s time that more men who are blazing the trail and making a huge difference in society will take up the challenge of showing what it really means to be a man. Shine your light and let more boys see that being a man is one of the most remarkably beautiful things.
Happy International Men’s Day!