The five hours that changed my life
My name is Kizito Ozoemena. I am an entrepreneur from Nigeria, running a small printing press. But on October 9, 2021, a single day reshaped my purpose forever.
It began with a traffic violation—a minor offense that led to a fine of ₦35,000 (roughly $21). The mobile court gave me a choice: pay or spend three weeks in jail. Though I had the money, something inside me resisted. I wanted to understand the system, to see first hand how justice worked for those who couldn’t pay. Defiantly, I chose the cell.
What I witnessed there shattered my world.
Crammed into a dim, overcrowded cell, I met Okechukwu Ani—a frail 19-year-old with hollow eyes. His crime? “Loitering” According to him, while walking home from work. He and his friend Frank, both bus conductors, had been arrested by police men who demanded bribes they couldn’t pay. With no lawyer, no trial, and no way to contact their families, they pleaded guilty under threat of lifelong imprisonment. Their “fine”: ₦80,000 ($47) each—a sum that might as well have been a million. Okechukwu had already spent ten months in that cell. Frank, his friend, had died two months prior from a treatable illness, ignored by guards. When Okechukwu handed me Frank’s final note—“Sorry I couldn’t help Mama pay Kiwi and Oge’s school fees. Please forgive me”—I wept. Here were two young men, breadwinners for their families, crushed by a system that valued ₦80,000 more than their lives.
In that moment, rage and grief collided into resolve. I paid both fines—₦35,000 for myself, ₦80,000 for Okechukwu—and drove him home, only to learn his mother had died weeks earlier from despair. Frank’s family, too, was left broken. *Two lives destroyed. Two families ruined. All for $47.*
Those five hours in jail exposed a truth I could no longer ignore: Poverty is not a crime, yet it sentences thousands to unimaginable suffering. That day, I vowed to fight for those trapped in this cycle—to give second chances to people like Okechukwu and Frank, whose only “crime” was being poor.
Why This Foundation Exists
“Giving Second Chances” was born from Frank’s note and Okechukwu’s tears. We are not just paying fines; we are restoring futures. For less than $100, we can reunite a parent with their children, a worker with their livelihood, a human being with their dignity. Since that day, I’ve helped free four others, compiling a list of dozens more awaiting hope. This is not charity—it is justice.
A Call to Join Us
I share this story not for pity, but to ignite action. If life has given you a second chance, pay it forward. *$100 saves a life.* $10,000 saves 100. Together, we can rewrite endings for those the world has discarded. This is my promise: Every dollar you give will go directly to freeing someone like Okechukwu. To ensuring no mother buries a child over $47. To proving that second chances are not just possible—they are essential.
Join me. Because no one should die for want of a hundred dollars.
