In this exclusive interview, Barrister Steve Emenike Nwankpa, Executive Chairman of Izzi Local Government Area of Ebonyi State, spoke passionately about the deeply personal philosophy behind his grassroots leadership. The chairman unveiled a compassionate approach to governance rooted in human empowerment, infrastructure, and a unique humanitarian drive that has seen the most vulnerable in society given not just hope but homes, NATIONAL PANEL reports.
Excerpts:
Sir, thank you for granting us this audience. Please, can we meet you?
I’m Barr. Steve Emenike Nwankpa, the Executive Chairman of Izzi Local Government Area, Ebonyi State.
Your leadership in Izzi LGA seems to go beyond the conventional. What inspired your people-centered style of governance?
Governance must touch the people at their point of need. In Izzi, we began by identifying the most neglected—those abandoned in hospitals, rejected by society, left without hope. We paid off medical bills in Saint Vincent Hospital in Igbeagu and extended that effort to Sudan United Mission Hospital in Iboko, General Hospital Iboko, and beyond.
We covered not just one-time costs but sustained monthly interventions, ensuring no one lay forgotten on a hospital bed. We helped families retrieve their dead from mortuaries where bodies had been unclaimed for years. To me, governance is service, and service starts with compassion.
That’s remarkable. But some say such gestures are rare in Nigeria’s political culture. What drives this unusual commitment?
I believe leadership is a social contract. People surrender their individual power to be governed well. If we can't take care of those who can’t speak for themselves, we have failed. I’ve received calls from Lagos, Nnewi, Umuahia—distress calls that led us to intervene across the nation, not just within our LGA.
We’re not doing this for publicity. Many people we help are not even on social media. They have no voice. That’s exactly why we focus on them.
One of your most touching stories is about a girl found in a gutter in Awka. Can you tell us about her?
Yes. She was trending online—abandoned in a gutter in Awka in Anambra State. When interviewed, she claimed to come from Iboko in my LGA. I personally travelled to Awka to find and bring her home.
When we got to her family compound in Iboko, it was deserted. Her mother had died when she was six. Her father had gone off trying to hustle in school. With nowhere else to take her, I called Her Excellency, the governor’s wife, who advised me to use my discretion.
Today, that girl lives in my house. She is the closest person to my children. She’s enrolled in school, and her dream is to become a nurse. She’s found a new family, a new identity, and a future. That is what governance should be.
Your empowerment strategy seems to have depth—beyond charity. What’s your philosophy?
We identify those who are too vulnerable to believe hope exists. We focus on individuals who don't have social media presence or political connections. For example, we’ve taken youths to TAG Global—a Cisco affiliate—for ICT training in Akwa Ibom.
We paid their tuition, accommodation, and monthly upkeep. Today, they are certified network engineers. One of them, Victor Igboke, is now studying Cybersecurity in Lagos—also sponsored by us.
We’ve given 31 full scholarships, supported victims of violence, built boreholes for traditional bone clinics, and offered business restart support to those displaced by demolitions—like the Ilaje settlers.
These are incredible achievements. Any standout moments?
There are many. One boy, Friday was trending online for farming with one arm. I found him, gave him books, registered him for WAEC and JAMB, and offered him a stipend. He now has dignity and direction.
Another child we found abandoned in Iboko, whom I named Queen Nwankp is about to join my family. She’s been under full care at the motherless babies’ home. She’s almost two years old now. I will raise her as one of my children.
That’s deeply personal. Has this changed your definition of leadership?
Absolutely. To lead is to serve. Nobody who becomes a victim of circumstances beyond their control should be left alone. We are building a local government that functions like a family—one that remembers, responds, and restores.
I always say, “Don’t write anything about me you can’t prove.” We live by example here. We are documenting every project, every life touched—not for praise—but for accountability and legacy.
Final word to the people of Izzi and beyond?
We’re not stopping. Empowerment is a continuum. From hospitals to classrooms, from boreholes to business startups, we will continue to serve, support, and uplift especially the forgotten.
