I Had to Walk More Than 20 Kilometers: Lessons from My Journey.

✍🏾 Madalla Kadiri, Zaar Activist-

When I look back at my childhood, one memory stands taller than many others: the long, endless walk to school. During my years at Government Day Secondary School, Bogoro, in Bauchi State between 1991-1996, I walked more than 20 kilometers every day- 10 kilometers to school and 10 kilometers back home.

It was not a walk on smooth tarred roads with shaded trees. It was a journey through dusty paths, bush tracks, and sometimes muddy terrain after heavy rains. The morning sun beat down on us; the harmattan wind cracked our lips; and when the rains came, we sometimes waded barefoot through streams. To a young teenager, this was no small sacrifice.

The Daily Trek

I remember waking up before dawn, often while the roosters were still crowing, to prepare for the long journey. There was no bus waiting outside, no bicycle to shorten the distance. Just my feet and the determination to learn. Many times, I joined other children from neighboring villages. We formed small groups, walking side by side, sometimes chatting, sometimes singing, and sometimes falling into long silences when our legs grew heavy. Our school bags were not light. Inside them were heavy textbooks, rough exercise books, and sometimes even foodstuff for break time. The road was not just long; it was demanding. Yet, day after day, we kept moving. Looking back now, I realize those long treks were not just about getting to school. They were about learning endurance, patience, and the discipline of showing up no matter the odds.

The Spirit of Community

What made it all bearable was the sense of community in which we lived. In our villages, no child truly walked alone. If one of us was tired, another would encourage him. If someone’s sandals tore on the way, another would share advice or even walk barefoot in solidarity. At home, parents did not only raise their own children; they raised the village’s children. Neighbors shared food without hesitation. Elders corrected and guided every child as if they were their own.

That sense of community has never left me. It shaped how I see the world and how I value people. In today’s cities, life often feels cold and individualistic. People live behind walls and gates, everyone minding their own business, often too busy or too cautious to look out for others. But in my upbringing, survival was collective, and success was shared.

The Return to My Roots

Years later, I had the opportunity to return to my village. This time, I was no longer a boy with a heavy school bag and tired feet. I was a man, revisiting the soil that shaped me. As I walked through familiar paths, memories flooded back each corner reminded me of a story, each face of a childhood friend or an elder who once advised us.

I sat with some of the elders, listening again to their wisdom. I reconnected with friends I had not seen in decades. Together, we laughed about our struggles, remembering how some of us would get blisters from walking, or how we would sometimes arrive in school drenched by rain yet determined to sit in class.

I also toured sites that carry the rich cultural heritage of the Zaar people. Standing in those places, I felt a deep pride, not just in my past, but in my roots. It struck me that I was not raised by my parents alone; I was raised by a whole community, a village that instilled values of resilience, respect, and togetherness in me.

Lessons for Today’s Youth

Looking back, I see now that those long walks were more than just physical journeys; they were life lessons in disguise. To every young person reading this, I want to share three truths I learned:

Struggles are Strength Builders.

 The challenges you face today are not meant to break you but to prepare you. Just as every step of my I Had to Walk More Than 20 Kilometers: 

Lessons from My Journey

When I look back at my childhood, one memory stands taller than many others: the long, endless walk to school. During my years at Government Day Secondary School, Bogoro, in Bauchi State, I walked more than 20 kilometers every day. Ten kilometers to school and ten kilometers back home. It was not a walk on smooth tarred roads with shaded trees. It was a journey through dusty paths, bush tracks, and sometimes muddy terrain after heavy rains. The morning sun beat down on us; the harmattan wind cracked our lips; and when the rains came, we sometimes waded barefoot through streams. To a young teenager, this was no small sacrifice.

The Daily Trek

I remember waking up before dawn, often while the roosters were still crowing, to prepare for the long journey. There was no bus waiting outside, no bicycle to shorten the distance. Just my feet and the determination to learn. Many times, I joined other children from neighboring villages. We formed small groups, walking side by side, sometimes chatting, sometimes singing, and sometimes falling into long silences when our legs grew heavy.

Our school bags were not light. Inside them were heavy textbooks, rough exercise books, and sometimes even foodstuff for break time. The road was not just long; it was demanding. Yet, day after day, we kept moving. Looking back now, I realize those long treks were not just about getting to school. They were about learning endurance, patience, and the discipline of showing up no matter the odds.

The Spirit of Community

What made it all bearable was the sense of community in which we lived. In our villages, no child truly walked alone. If one of us was tired, another would encourage him. If someone’s sandals tore on the way, another would share advice or even walk barefoot in solidarity. At home, parents did not only raise their own children; they raised the village’s children. Neighbors shared food without hesitation. Elders corrected and guided every child as if they were their own.

That sense of community has never left me. It shaped how I see the world and how I value people. In today’s cities, life often feels cold and individualistic. People live behind walls and gates, everyone minding their own business, often too busy or too cautious to look out for others. But in my upbringing, survival was collective, and success was shared.

Never Forget Your Roots. 

As you pursue modern education, careers, or opportunities in cities, remember the values of your upbringing. Your roots give you identity, pride, and a compass that guides you through life.

A Journey Beyond the Kilometers

Today, I no longer walk 20 kilometers to and from school. 

But the lessons from that journey walk with me every day. They remind me that no dream is too far to reach, and no challenge is too heavy to bear if faced with determination and community spirit. So whenever life feels overwhelming, I tell myself: if I could walk 20 kilometers as a boy, I can walk through any difficulty as a man. And if my story teaches anything, let it be this: your struggles today are the stepping stones to your strength tomorrow. Keep walking, keep believing, and never lose sight of where you came from.