My journey as a compere began long before I knew what the word meant. It started in the humble halls of Federal Government Girls’ College, Bakori, where the legendary Mrs. F.S. Robinson; ever so passionate about grooming young female leaders; insisted we establish a Press Club.
That club wasn’t just an after-school activity. It was our training ground; our little newsroom. We stood before the entire school at Assembly, delivering the news of the day with trembling voices and proud hearts. That was my first taste of the stage: a mixture of butterflies and boldness.
Each time I stood in front of the Assembly, I could hear the admiring cheers of some of my classmates and schoolmates; seniors and juniors alike, whose silent encouragement gave me wings. And then there were the others; the girls-will-be-girls comments, sometimes laced with cynicism, mockery, or misunderstanding. They did not know it then, but they too were part of my journey; cheering me, unknowingly, toward my destiny.
At St. Theresa’s Catholic Church in Funtua, Katsina State, I found myself drawn to another kind of stage; the altar. There, I took up Mass Readings, gently guided by the firm, fatherly Mr. A.U. Anyanwu of blessed memory, and lovingly encouraged by Mrs. Umeh, my House Mistress. Their patience and trust in me shaped something deep within: the confidence to use my voice not just to inform, but to inspire.
Equally instrumental were the Sunday Masses at St. John’s Catholic Church, Tafawa Balewa Way, Kaduna, and other parishes I attended as I grew up. Those liturgical readings; week after week; became my quiet rehearsal room, a sacred and steady refining ground where I learned cadence, clarity, reverence, and responsibility. It was church, yes, but also training; spiritual and technical; for the calling I did not yet know I was answering.
I also remember standing on stage for the French Competition, representing my school in 1981; words foreign to my tongue yet flowing out with surprising ease; a result of endless rehearsals and affirming corrections. Miss Ngozi Otuka, graceful and precise, sharpened my enunciation; Miss Akande, my elegant English teacher, ensured that my delivery was wrapped in class; and Mr. John Undelinkwo, my drama teacher, taught me stage presence. To this day, I hear his voice reminding me to project with purpose. And of course, the unforgettable Prof. Nwabuoku, of Blessed memory; whose dance and music lessons gave rhythm to my expression; he did not just teach music, he taught movement with meaning.
Later, I would step into the real world; interning at NTA Kaduna, where I was fortunate to learn from the majestic Debra Ogazuma, a woman who spoke like she owned the airwaves. It was during that period that I discovered the power of voice and poise on screen.
As I founded Country Associates Network (CANET), in 1995, I found myself anchoring programmes in support of nutrition campaigns, from Lagos, Osun and all through the 19 Northern States and sometimes under the UNICEF umbrella. It was more than compering; it was advocacy with a mic in hand. And there was Aunty Moj, who didn’t just teach us to hold the mic; she taught us to respect it, to honour the power it gives us in the moment.
Eventually, I walked onto international stages, where accents were varied and expectations high. Yet, I carried my experiences with me; each Assembly announcement, every Mass reading, all those rehearsals and mentorships; they were the foundation.
This journey didn’t begin with flair. It began with fright. But over the years, I have come to realize that compering is more than a performance, it’s a connection. A moment of magic shared between the voice on stage and the eyes in the crowd.
Today, many have turned it into a profession, and rightly so. But for me, it remains a passion and a pleasure. I do not compere to impress; I compere to uplift, to put a smile on the faces of those waiting for something good, meaningful, or simply joyful. And that; that smile, is always worth it.
And so I stand, mic in hand, a whisper once, now bold and grand.
From Bakori’s halls to global light, I found my voice, I found my might.
Not for fame, nor for the cheer,
But for the smiles I hold so dear.
A stage, a soul, a story spun;
In every word, the work is done.
So when they ask, how did it start?
I will say; with a trembling voice and open heart. From girl to guide, from spark to flame, I found myself; and earned my name.