A legacy of love, written in tears and hope.
Kawan Aondofa-Anjira shares the journey that gave birth to SECHILD.

Founder and President, SECHILD
I never imagined my life would take this path. I was a young mother, a professional banker, and, like every other parent, I had dreams for my children. I looked forward to milestones, to laughter, and to watching them grow up strong and happy.
But my story—our story—became one of pain, grief, and ultimately, purpose.
“We couldn’t find the help we needed, so we became that help for others.”
Sedoo and Aondofa
Their lives were brief, but the love they awakened continues in every child welcomed through SECHILD’s doors.

When a mother knows
Our first child was born in 2003. Two years later, on 22 August 2005, I gave birth to our daughter, Sedoo. From the moment she was born, something felt wrong. Her breathing was laboured. Her body felt limp. Her eyes moved uncontrollably, she cried through the night, and she could not latch or suck properly. I voiced my fears, but people around me said I was panicking. A mother knows, and I knew something was wrong.
What followed was a relentless journey from hospital to hospital and doctor to doctor. We were told it was an eye problem and then ocular albinism. We tried eye drops, ointments, and glasses. Sedoo endured painful treatments, fevers, and seizures, but nothing changed. The milestones never came. She could not sit or hold her head, and she did not follow light, toys, or sound.
The search for answers
During a multi-doctor consultation at the National Hospital in Abuja, the truth began to unfold. After hours of evaluation, we were referred to a paediatric neurologist. We learned that Sedoo had severe brain damage and might never roll, sit, stand, speak, or live independently.
That day, my world collapsed. I believed in healing, miracles, and hope, but I could not imagine the life ahead of us. While I wrestled with darkness, my husband saw Sedoo with pure love. His eyes carried hope where mine held despair. He wanted to protect her from a world that could be cruel to children like her. His love gave me the courage to keep going.
Learning a new kind of joy
We rocked together through the nights. I cried, prayed, and found solace in the Psalms. Slowly, I began to see beyond Sedoo’s diagnosis. She loved to be held. She smiled when touched, laughed when tickled, and enjoyed the gentle wind on her face. She taught me that joy can exist in the midst of suffering.
Facing the journey again
During my pregnancy with Aondofa Jr., we travelled for tests and were repeatedly reassured that he was developing normally. But when he was born on 18 January 2007, I immediately recognized the same signs. He looked like Sedoo and struggled in many of the same ways. He could not suck or control his neck, and he, too, was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. I felt overwhelmed by the weight of caring for two children with complex needs while working full-time.
We met rejection everywhere. Schools would not accept our children. Caregivers were difficult to find, and there were no professional support centres for children like ours. Some people called them spirit children. Others avoided us. The stigma was isolating, but our children still deserved care, dignity, and belonging.
Love carried through loss
Sedoo passed away on 22 June 2007, just before her second birthday. We held her as she left us. We were grieving one child while fighting to keep another alive. Through that pain, one question would not let us go: if this journey was so difficult for us, with education, work, faith, and each other, how much harder must it be for parents with no support at all?
Creating the support we never had
In January 2011, my husband, Aondofa Abraham Anjira, and I founded The Sedoo Initiative for Children with Special Needs—SECHILD. We named it after our daughter to honour her life and the journey she began in us.
We established the SECHILD Centre as a dedicated place for residential care, therapy, counselling, training, and administration. It was designed not simply as a facility, but as a home of hope for children with cerebral palsy and for their parents and caregivers.
Aondofa Jr. became the first child admitted to the centre. He received the care and therapy that had once been so difficult to find, surrounded by other children, caregivers, and a supportive community. On 16 June 2014, he passed away peacefully at the centre. His life and presence there deepened SECHILD’s mission as a living legacy to both him and Sedoo.
This is SECHILD
We created SECHILD not because we had all the answers, but because we knew what it felt like to have none. Today, I stand not only as a mother of two angels, but as a voice for children who are still here, still waiting for care, and still deserving of love.
I carry every sleepless night, unanswered question, and whispered prayer into one vision: that no child will be rejected, no parent will be alone, and every life will be valued.
This is my story. This is SECHILD.
Kawan Aondofa-Anjira
Mother. Advocate. Banker. Counsellor. Trainer. Preacher.
Kawan is the Founder and President of SECHILD, a wife, and a mother of four. She holds a Master’s degree in Mass Communication from Benue State University, Makurdi, and brings more than a decade of leadership experience from Nigeria’s banking sector.
Beyond the boardroom, she is a trained teacher, certified counsellor, inspirational trainer, and preacher. Her professional experience and personal journey meet in one enduring calling: to protect the dignity of children with special needs and support the families who care for them.
What she believes
- Every child is uniquely created and worthy of love and dignity.
- Disability is not a curse, but a different expression of human strength.
- No family should feel alone while raising a child with special needs.
- With love, support, and community, hope is possible and healing can begin.
Help carry their legacy forward.
Every child welcomed through our doors becomes part of the story Sedoo and Aondofa began.