Precious Eniayekan: Precious Eniayekan is a social entrepreneur and systems builder who equips underrepresented boys with technology and leadership skills through Boycode Africa. She is the founder of The Stellar Initiative, an organisation designing ecosystems that enable young Africans to learn, build, and compete globally. In this interview by KINGSLEY ALUMONA, she speaks about her work, young people, and what she would do with a billion-naira grant, among other issues.
How would you describe who you are now and the journey that led you to this point in your career and professional life?
I see myself as a builder of systems and people. Today, I lead The Stellar Initiative and Boycode Africa, designing structures that help young Africans, especially boys from underserved communities, become globally competitive. My journey was not built on privilege but on limitation. I studied Computer Science without owning a computer, wrote code on paper, borrowed devices, failed at businesses, and survived rejection. Those years taught me that opportunity is not charity — it is access, structure, and guidance.
I began by teaching kids basic computer skills, crowd-funding school fees, and running micro-bootcamps with borrowed equipment. This grew into The Stellar Initiative, and later Boycode Africa, created not as another programme but as an answer to a silent crisis: boys left unmentored, unheard, and unprepared for the future.
So, who am I now? A founder and reformer building an ecosystem where boys learn to code, to lead, and to build meaningful futures.
Between when you graduated from computer science and now, how many jobs, businesses, and careers have you found yourself in? Which one prepared you most for what you do now?
I have done many things, not out of confusion but survival. I graduated with no capital, no connections and had to build my own path. I sold handbags, then phones. I ran Revney Co., did digital marketing, worked in tech, and started businesses that did not scale. Each role taught me sales, branding, negotiation, and resilience.
The labour market did not treat me well, but it taught me not to wait, to build. That mindset prepared me for what I do now: creating systems so young people do not suffer unnecessary hardship before becoming useful.
Your profile is intriguing, especially the part that reads “I don’t just build ecosystems, I create revolutions” and that you are “Shaping the next generation of global disruptors.” What spurred your interest in this lofty endeavour?
My belief has always been that change should be a system, not an event. In 2016, I organised the Revamp Conference for 150 teenagers, not to build a movement, but to share lessons on resilience and knowledge. That day showed me young people do not just need motivation — they need structure and someone willing to build it.
I transitioned from events to ecosystems, spaces where young people are trained, mentored, challenged, and empowered to build solutions. My “revolutions” are not about noise but about redesigning how opportunity flows, so a child from a forgotten street can build a global company. I am simply building systems that change the future permanently.
What ecosystem are you building, and who are the players in this ecosystem? How do we recognise or measure the revolution or disruption your ecosystem is creating?
I am building an ecosystem that turns boys and young men into thinkers, builders, and responsible leaders across tech, character development, mentorship, and mental resilience. The players are the boys themselves, mentors, and industry experts, partner organisations, donors, families, and eventually the boys as future leaders and mentors.
We measure impact through outcomes: boys who had no digital skills now building products, freelancing globally, getting internships, or overcoming personal struggles. Parents notice the change; employers request more of them. We measure revolution through shifts in mindset, opportunity, and outcomes, when a boy from a slum earns in dollars or becomes a disciplined, responsible man. That is disruption.
Tell us about your organisation, The Stellar Initiative, what it sets out to achieve, and the latest project or ongoing project it is involved in.
The Stellar Initiative answers one question: What happens to dreams born in places without opportunity? Our mission is to provide access to education, mentorship, and digital skills for underserved children and youth. We run school support programmes, scholarships, tech bootcamps, mental health support, mentorship, and Boycode Africa, our flagship project for boys.
Our latest project is building our first physical hub, a space for learning, innovation, healing, mentorship, and community. It represents our belief that children from low-income communities deserve world-class environments to grow.
As a woman, why did you decide to empower boys in tech through your Boycode Africa Initiative rather than empowering girls? Incorporating girls into the initiative, something you would like to consider?
Empowering boys is not choosing them over girls. Girls absolutely need support, and thankfully, many programmes exist for them. But while we uplifted girls, boys were quietly breaking, dropping out, joining crime, struggling emotionally, and becoming unprepared future men. You cannot support empowered women and leave broken men beside them. Boycode is a complement, not competition. We teach boys to code, lead, feel, respect women, and heal.
We will include girls through a sister programme in the future, while keeping Boycode as a safe space for boys to learn responsibility and accountability. This is not anti-female — it is pro-future.
In one of your recent LinkedIn posts, you stated that you graduated from a computer science programme without owning a computer or gadget. What was that experience like? How would you advise computer science students who do not have gadgets to study in this fast-evolving digital age?
It was humbling and frustrating, but it taught me early that access is not always given; you sometimes create it. I borrowed laptops, used school labs, cybercafés, and any space that helped me stay connected to learning. More importantly, I learned to leverage people, places, and relationships.
My advice: you cannot control your resources, but you can control your resourcefulness. Do not romanticise struggle. Apply for grants, borrow devices, join communities, and seek help.
What saved me was not a gadget but refusing to let lack limit me.
As a mentor and social entrepreneur, how do you think Nigerian young people can turn their talents into opportunities, especially those from underserved communities?
Nigeria has abundant talent, but talent only becomes opportunity when structured, monetised, and visible. I tell young people: turn talent into a system.
Leverage is the new currency. Volunteer, learn online, collaborate, and use platforms around you. Document your journey. The world invests in stories before products. Community is everything; no innovation thrives alone. Start with what you have, even if it is borrowed. Talent is not the revolution; what you build around it is.
If you were given a billion naira to impact Nigeria’s young people, what kind of revolution and disruption would you cause, and how do you think that would impact Nigeria’s future?
I would not spend it on charity. I would build infrastructure. I would create innovation hubs in underserved communities where any child can learn tech, build products, access mentorship, and join a global network. Every hub would combine tech, entrepreneurship, mental resilience, and civic responsibility. I would also create a Social Impact Fund to invest in youth-led startups solving local problems.
Success would be measured by incomes earned, startups launched from slums, and families lifted from poverty. This would not just be a disruption. It would redesign the Nigerian economy from the bottom up.
On Nigeria’s 65th Independence Day, you made a LinkedIn post titled ‘I don’t like Nigeria’, asking thousands of your followers, “Do you love Nigeria enough to build her?” Why do you not like your country? And what can we all do to love and build a better Nigeria?
When I said I do not like Nigeria, it was not hate. It was heartbreak. I love this country, and that love makes me hurt when I see wasted talent and chaos overshadow potential. I dislike a Nigeria where brilliance struggles and mediocrity wins, where children learn on bare floors, and where joblessness is normal. But that dislike is protest, a refusal to accept what we have become.
To build a Nigeria we love, love must become responsibility. We must shift from blame to building, collaborate across sectors, and stop emigrating mentally. I do not like Nigeria because I know what it can be. But I love her enough to build.
Apart from your work at the Stellar Initiative, where do you work or earn a living? And where do you see yourself and your career in five years?
Beyond The Stellar Initiative, I run Rivil Global, a marketing communications and ecosystem-building company. I also consult, sit on advisory boards, and earn from speaking and strategy work.
In five years, I see Boycode Africa in multiple African countries, Rivil Global expanded into a full innovation and impact firm, and The Stellar Initiative becoming a model for community-led development. I want to evolve from founder to systems architect, funding innovators, shaping policy, and building ecosystems that help Africa’s best talents stay, build, and compete globally.
What do you like doing at your leisure? If you were given an all-expense paid trip to any country of your choice for a one-month vacation, which country would you choose and why?
I enjoy reading, journaling, music, long walks, and observing people and cultures. I love art, history, and beautiful spaces.
For a one-month vacation, I would choose Monaco or Florence. Monaco for its excellence and intentionality; Florence for its Renaissance history and creativity, perfect for thinking, writing, and imagining new revolutions for Africa.
Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).
