Mr. Manko Wiliam wasn’t born on Kome Island. He came from another region, driven by the universal pursuit of survival, of opportunity, of hope. When he first set foot on the island, he found a place shrouded in stillness — not the peaceful kind, but one born of neglect, poverty, and a lack of vision.
He shares that back then, Kome was developmentally behind. Its people lived by fishing and farming, and while their hands worked hard, their hearts had nowhere to place their dreams. With little to no direction, income was often spent on drinking and fleeting pleasures. Entire areas of the island were morally compromised — places where children weren’t allowed, not because of danger, but because of the deep-rooted immorality that had taken hold. The culture bred irresponsibility, leading to high rates of teenage pregnancies and a rise in children born into a community that wasn’t ready to care for them.
Education was not part of the conversation. Children wandered without guidance, and the idea of schooling was a distant dream, if it existed at all. Visionaries didn’t belong here. At least, that’s what everyone thought.
But then, a quiet miracle arrived — Twelve21 School.
No one really knows how the institution discovered this island. It’s still a mystery to many, including Mr. Manko Wiliam. But what they brought with them was more than buildings and books. They brought hope.
Now, the poorest and most vulnerable children — the ones once left behind — have something they can hold on to. A future. A dream. A classroom where they are seen, valued, and prepared for a life beyond survival.
Twelve21 has become more than a school. It’s a symbol of possibility. A place where forgotten children find purpose. Where a once-dark island is slowly being lit by the fire of knowledge, care, and compassion.
Mr. Manko Wiliam looks around the island today and shakes his head in awe. He still wonders how anyone could care this much for a place the world seemed to forget.
“It’s only God,” he says. “That’s all I can say.”