WETIN CONCERN ME? TECHRISE SERIES AND THE COMMON MAN ON THE STREET
By Prof. Chukwuemeka Ifegwu Eke
There is a question that rises from the street whenever government announces a programme with big English, big banners, big ceremonies and big promises. It is not always asked in anger. Sometimes, it is asked in confusion. Sometimes, it is asked in poverty. Sometimes, it is asked from the mind of a young man who has searched for work until his shoes have become tired. Sometimes, it is asked by a woman in the market who does not hate technology but simply does not know where technology enters her daily struggle.
The question is simple:
Wetin concern me?
When Abia State Government talks about TechRise, the young people in Aba, Umuahia, Ohafia, Isiala Ngwa, Ukwa, Umunneochi, Bende, Arochukwu and other communities are entitled to ask: how does this thing enter my life? How does it change the price of garri? How does it help my son who has finished school but has no job? How does it help the tailor in Ariaria, the shoemaker in Aba, the barber in Umuahia, the POS girl in Ohafia, the apprentice in Ngwa Road, the graduate in Isuikwuato, the roadside phone repairer in Osisioma, and the small trader who still records sales inside an exercise book?
That question is legitimate. In fact, that question is the beginning of good governance. Any government policy that cannot answer the ordinary person has not yet become a people’s policy. A policy becomes powerful when the man on the street can point to it and say, “Yes, this one concerns me.”
That is why the Abia TechRise conversation must not be left only for government officials, ICT experts, consultants, photographers and social media handlers. It must enter the street. It must enter the market. It must enter the bus stop. It must enter the village square. It must enter the family discussion. It must enter the mind of the young person who is asking whether tomorrow can still be better than today.
The Abia TechRise programme, as presented by government and its partners, is a digital skills empowerment initiative designed to equip Abia youths with practical technology skills. Reports on the programme show that the first two cohorts trained about 1,350 young Abians, while Cohort 3 is designed for another 850 slots. The official TechRise portal describes Cohort 3 as a fully residential advanced digital skills programme for Abia youths, with intensive training over several weeks. Earlier official government communication also reported that Governor Alex Otti granted automatic employment to outstanding graduands and gave laptops to hundreds of successful participants from the digital training programme.
But beyond the numbers, the real question remains: what does TechRise mean to the common man?
Let us enter the street.
At a small phone repair corner in Aba, a young technician is changing the screen of an Android phone. His table is crowded with chargers, phone pouches, small screwdrivers and cracked screens. Someone mentions TechRise, and he laughs.
“TechRise? Na government people thing?”
Another young man beside him replies, “No be only government people thing. If you learn software, cybersecurity, data, AI, digital marketing, app development, even UI/UX, you fit upgrade from ordinary phone repair to proper tech service.”
The phone technician pauses.
“You mean say person wey dey repair phone fit still learn how to build app?”
“Why not? Na from small small things people take enter big market. The same customer wey dey bring phone come your table fit later need website, online advert, payment system, business page, inventory app or digital invoice. If you sabi more, your money go change.”
That is where TechRise begins to concern the common man.
It concerns him because the world has changed. The street has changed. Business has changed. Even poverty has changed. In the past, lack of opportunity meant lack of farmland, lack of shop, lack of machine or lack of capital. Today, lack of opportunity also means lack of digital skill. A young person without digital skill is not useless, but he is increasingly disadvantaged in a world where business, communication, payment, marketing, learning and employment are moving into digital spaces.
In Ariaria, imagine a shoemaker who produces good shoes but sells only to people who physically enter his line. He may be talented, but his market is trapped. If his son or apprentice learns digital marketing, product photography, basic e-commerce, social media advertising and customer management, that same shoemaker can begin to sell beyond Ariaria. His shoes can reach Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, Enugu and even outside Nigeria. The father may never write code, but TechRise can still concern him if his child uses digital skills to open his business to a wider market.
That is the hidden beauty of digital empowerment. It may train one person, but it can feed more than one household.
At a food joint near a busy road in Umuahia, a woman selling rice and stew asks the question in a different way.
“My pikin apply for this TechRise. But me I no understand wetin she go do with computer. I need her to help me for shop.”
A customer replies, “Mama, allow her. Tomorrow she fit help you put this your food business online. People fit order from office. She fit design menu, run advert, manage delivery, calculate profit, track customers and even teach you which food sells more.”
The woman shakes her head.
“So computer fit sell rice?”
The customer smiles.
“Mama, computer no go cook the rice, but computer fit bring the customer.”
That is the explanation many people need. Technology does not replace every human effort. It multiplies human effort. It does not cook the food, but it can advertise the food. It does not sew the dress, but it can display the dress. It does not mould the shoe, but it can take the shoe to the world. It does not drive the keke, but it can help organize routes, payments, bookings and customer contacts. It does not farm the cassava, but it can connect the farmer to information, buyers, weather data, prices and cooperative networks.
So when the common man asks, “Wetin concern me?” the answer is clear: TechRise concerns you because the income of your household may soon depend on whether one person in that household understands the digital economy.
This is not about turning every Abian into a computer engineer. That would be unrealistic. It is about creating a new layer of opportunity. Some will become software developers. Some will become data analysts. Some will become cybersecurity assistants. Some will become digital marketers. Some will become designers. Some will become product managers. Some will support government digital systems. Some will work remotely. Some will build small businesses around technology. Some will simply use the training to make their existing businesses smarter.
A programme like TechRise becomes more meaningful when we understand it as a bridge. It is a bridge between school and work. It is a bridge between talent and income. It is a bridge between local business and wider markets. It is a bridge between Abia’s informal economy and the global digital economy.
In Aba, that bridge matters.
Aba is not an ordinary city. Aba is an economy. Aba is an industrial classroom. Aba is a workshop with a soul. Aba is where people create something from almost nothing. If digital skills are properly connected to Aba’s manufacturing energy, the result can be powerful. Imagine Aba shoemakers with digital catalogues. Imagine Aba garment makers with online order systems. Imagine Aba leather producers using design software. Imagine young Abians building inventory platforms for small manufacturers. Imagine local artisans using digital payment records to qualify for loans. Imagine young data trainees helping clusters understand demand, cost, supply and customer behaviour.
Then TechRise is no longer just “computer training.” It becomes economic infrastructure.
This is why Governor Alex Otti’s digital empowerment push should be understood within a broader development logic. Roads are important because they move people and goods. Security is important because business needs confidence. Power and infrastructure are important because production requires stability. But human capital is the engine that converts infrastructure into prosperity. A road can take a young person to the city, but skill determines whether he finds opportunity when he gets there. A laptop can sit on a table, but training determines whether it becomes a tool of income. A government can launch portals, but trained young people are needed to build, manage and sustain the systems.
That is why TechRise matters.
But praise must also come with responsibility. A programme that trains youths must not end with speeches and photographs. It must be followed by tracking, mentorship, job placement, business incubation, community projects and measurable outcomes. The people deserve to know how many trainees completed the programme, how many got jobs, how many started businesses, how many are supporting government digital systems, how many are freelancing, how many are building solutions for local problems, and how many are still being mentored after graduation.
That is how government converts empowerment into evidence.
It is not enough to say youths were trained. The deeper question is: trained into what? Trained for what? Trained with what follow-up? Trained to solve which problems? Trained to serve which sectors? Trained to build what kind of Abia?
If TechRise must fully answer the common man, then its next stage must deliberately connect trained youths to the real economy. Let some of them be attached to markets. Let some be attached to local manufacturers. Let some work with schools. Let some support health data systems. Let some support local government digital records. Let some help small businesses with online visibility. Let some be organized into innovation teams that solve Abia-specific problems. Let there be a TechRise Business Support Desk for SMEs. Let there be a TechRise Marketplace where graduates can showcase services. Let there be periodic public reporting of outcomes. Let the state publish success stories that are verifiable, not merely emotional.
This is the kind of accountability that strengthens good programmes.
On the street, the common man does not hate big dreams. He only fears being left behind. He has seen programmes come and go. He has seen banners printed and removed. He has seen politicians talk about empowerment while the poor remain spectators. So when he asks “Wetin concern me?” he is not always mocking government. Sometimes he is asking for inclusion. Sometimes he is saying, “Please, do not forget me.” Sometimes he is saying, “Let this policy touch my house too.”
That is why communication matters.
Government must explain TechRise in the language of the people. Do not only say “digital transformation.” Say, “Your daughter can learn a skill that helps her work from home.” Do not only say “innovation ecosystem.” Say, “Your son can learn how to build websites for businesses.” Do not only say “AI and data.” Say, “Young people can learn how to use information to solve problems.” Do not only say “human capital development.” Say, “We are training people so they can earn, serve and build.”
Policy becomes powerful when it is translated into the language of daily bread.
Imagine another conversation in a keke.
One passenger says, “All these TechRise things, na for people wey sabi computer before.”
Another replies, “No. Na for youths wey ready to learn. Even if you no know everything before, seriousness fit carry you far.”
The driver cuts in.
“If my son learn am, work dey?”
There is a short silence. Then someone answers honestly.
“Work no dey fall from sky. But skill gives person fighting chance. Without skill, you dey wait. With skill, you fit apply, build, freelance, support business, teach others or create something.”
That is the truth. No serious person should present TechRise as magic. It is not a miracle wand. It will not automatically make every trainee rich. It will not end unemployment in one day. It will not replace the need for factories, investment, electricity, credit, discipline and entrepreneurship. But it can give many young people a better fighting chance in a harsh economy. And for a state that wants to rise, giving youths a fighting chance is not small.
The common man understands practical benefit. He may not understand all the grammar of the Fourth Industrial Revolution, but he understands when his child gets a laptop and uses it well. He understands when a trained youth gets a job. He understands when a business begins to receive online orders. He understands when a young graduate stops roaming and starts earning. He understands when digital records reduce stress in public service. He understands when technology helps him save time, reduce cost, reach customers or solve problems.
That is the level where TechRise must be judged.
A government that invests in roads is building physical access. A government that invests in health is protecting life. A government that invests in education is preparing the mind. A government that invests in digital skills is preparing the people for the economy that is already here. The question is not whether technology will come. Technology has already come. The question is whether Abia youths will be prepared to participate or whether they will watch others take the opportunities.
TechRise is one attempt to say that Abia youths should not be spectators.
The programme also sends a message beyond the trainees. It tells parents that the future of work is changing. It tells schools that certificates alone are no longer enough. It tells local businesses that digital visibility is now part of survival. It tells young people that waiting endlessly for government jobs is no longer a complete strategy. It tells communities that development is not only about what government builds for people, but also about what government enables people to become.
That is a deeper form of empowerment.
Still, the programme must continue to improve. Selection must be transparent. Local government spread must be fair. Gender inclusion must be deliberate. Persons from rural communities must not be excluded because they lack information. Graduates must not be abandoned after training. The curriculum must remain relevant. Trainers must be competent. Equipment must be adequate. The public must see outcomes. The programme must not become another political slogan. It must remain a serious human capital project.
If these things are done, then the answer to “Wetin concern me?” becomes even stronger.
It concerns the trader because digital tools can expand market reach.
It concerns the artisan because design, branding and online sales can increase income.
It concerns the student because employability now requires practical skills.
It concerns the unemployed graduate because digital skills can open new work pathways.
It concerns the civil service because trained youths can support efficient digital governance.
It concerns parents because one skilled child can lift pressure from a household.
It concerns communities because youth productivity reduces frustration.
It concerns Abia because no state can build tomorrow with yesterday’s skills.
So, the next time someone sees TechRise and asks, “Wetin concern me?” we should not laugh at the question. We should answer it. We should say:
It concerns you because the future of work concerns you.
It concerns you because your child’s opportunity concerns you.
It concerns you because your business survival concerns you.
It concerns you because Abia’s competitiveness concerns you.
It concerns you because development is not only about roads and buildings; it is also about people, skills, ideas and the capacity to earn in a changing world.
Abia TechRise is therefore not merely a youth programme. It is a public-interest conversation. It is a test of how government can connect policy with the street. It is a test of whether empowerment can move from announcement to evidence. It is a test of whether digital training can become household benefit. It is a test of whether Abia can convert its famous enterprise spirit into digital advantage.
The common man is not asking for too much. He is simply asking government to show him where he fits in the story.
And for TechRise, the answer should be bold:
You fit in the story.
Your child fits in the story.
Your business fits in the story.
Your community fits in the story.
Your future fits in the story.
Because when technology rises without the people, it becomes another elite project. But when technology rises with the people, it becomes development.
That is the real promise of Abia TechRise.
That is why the question must be asked.
That is why the answer must be given.
Wetin concern me?
Everything — if the programme is properly followed through, transparently managed, and deliberately connected to the everyday lives of Abia people.
SOURCE LINKS FOR READERS
Official Abia TechRise Cohort 3 Portal:
https://www.abiatechrise.ng/
Abia State Government report on TechRise graduands, laptops and employment:
https://abiastate.gov.ng/gov-otti-grants-automatic-employment-to-19-gives-laptops-to-509-tech-graduands/
Report on Cohort 3 and previous trainees:
https://nationalambassadorngr.com/abia-to-launch-third-cohort-of-digital-skills-programme-for-youths/
Report on TechRise Cohort 3 launch:
https://www.premiumtimesng.com/news/more-news/881398-otti-launches-techrise-cohort-3-to-equip-850-abia-youths-with-digital-skills.html
LearnFactory TechRise information:
https://www.learnfactory.com.ng/techrise
