“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.” – Mother Teresa
Earlier today, while scrolling through my Facebook feed, I stumbled upon a powerful and deeply moving update from Anja Ringgren Lovén, a name many Nigerians have come to associate with compassion and hope. Anja is a Danish humanitarian who has dedicated her life to rescuing and rehabilitating children in Nigeria accused of witchcraft, children who were once rejected, tortured, and left to die.
Through her foundation, Anja has taken in dozens, possibly hundreds, of these so-called “witch” children. In her care, they receive not just food and shelter but love, dignity, and purpose. Over time, their once frightened, wounded faces transform. You see smiles, hear laughter, and witness the light returning to eyes that had once known only fear and rejection. And then, you ask yourself: Is this not the same child who was once condemned and cast away?
One of Anja’s recent posts highlights the story of Ekong, a young boy she found nearly 12 years ago. He had been hiding in the bush, half-naked and covered in infected wounds, punished by a community that branded him a witch. Today, Ekong is completing his three-year internship as a mobile technician and dreams of owning his own electronics store. Anja calls him her son; she raised him, nurtured him, and believed in him.
She wrote: “Empathy is a quality of character that is the most essential. Nothing, not career, not wealth, not intelligence, certainly not status, is noble if you lack empathy.”
Ekong, she says, is affectionate and empathetic, and he has a gift for creating beauty out of broken things. Time and again, he finds discarded items on the street, repairs them, and gives them new life, just as Anja gave him a new life. Behind the ugliness of superstition and false accusation lies the beauty of hidden talent, resilience, and divine potential.
Anja’s work is a powerful testimony that every child is valuable and that labels do not define destiny. What many consider worthless, God sees as priceless.
A Call to Be Our Brother’s Keeper
Not everyone can run a foundation like Anja. Not everyone can house abandoned children or fund a large-scale operation. However, we can all do something. A kind word. A helping hand. A refusal to spread harmful rumours. A willingness to love the unloved. These are the small stones we can cast across the water to make ripples of change.
As believers, we are not called to do everything, but we are called to do something. Jesus said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). Love is not just a feeling; it is action. And every act of compassion, no matter how small, is a seed of God’s Kingdom on earth.
Let us be inspired, not only by Anja’s story, but also by Christ’s call. Let us respond with empathy, kindness, and faith in the God who sees value in every soul. Because in the eyes of God, no child is a witch; every child is a wonder.
Emmanuel Adigwe has been writing for more than 20 years. He covers human interest stories.
