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From 12 Women in a Class of 220 to Powering Communities: Engineer Nkechi Okenwa Is Opening Renewable Energy Doors for Women

By Prosper Mene

In Nigeria, where clean energy is fast becoming a necessity rather than an alternative, one female engineer is bridging two gaps at once — expanding access to solar power in underserved communities while creating pathways for more women to enter the male-dominated sector.

Nkechi Okenwa, CEO of Energy Excell Systems and Solutions and founder of Women in Energy and Economic Sustainability Initiative (WEESI), says her journey started with a simple fascination: how a single switch could light up a home.

“As a teenager choosing a course of study, I had to take on Electrical/Electronics Engineering as a course, though I knew it was a male-dominated field because I never saw any female studying that course… that’s actually how this whole journey started,” she recalls.

The gender gap became glaring at university. In a class of over 220 engineering students, only 12 were women.

“I said there has to be a way to get women inclusive,” Okenwa said. “I understand the challenges that come with being female in this male-dominated industry, but when I look at myself and how I was able to go through the challenges, my persistence and all of that, I told myself so many other women too have aspirations to make a difference.”

After graduation, she started as technical staff in an IT company working with power systems and AutoCAD, before moving into sales and later founding her own company.

Incorporated in 2013, Energy Excell Systems and Solutions Limited is an indigenous renewable energy Engineering, Procurement and Construction (EPC) company. Beyond solar installations, the company focuses on what Okenwa calls “productive use” energy — providing homes, small businesses and farming communities with energy-efficient appliances such as solar-powered rice mills, cassava graters and grinders.

As the business grew, she noticed women were largely absent from energy conversations, despite being disproportionately affected by energy poverty.

“I found that most challenges in the community that we face, we face them as men and women, but I find that women sometimes are not really included in solving these challenges,” she said.

That led to the creation of WEESI in 2020 to integrate women across the energy value chain, from rural communities to leadership positions.

For girls and young women aged 12 to 26, WEESI offers STEM essay competitions, mentorship and scholarships. At the grassroots level, it trains rural women, entrepreneurs and internally displaced persons in solar photovoltaic installation, maintenance and clean cooking.

“We have carried out trainings with women in rural areas, ranging from telling them how to turn waste into energy, like manufacturing charcoal briquettes,” Okenwa explained. “For example, a woman that threshes rice and has a heap of rice husk doesn’t know what to do with it. She can decarbonise this rice husk into charcoal and make briquettes and make money from it.”

One beneficiary is Anita Manuel, an entrepreneur and contractor in the oil and gas sector who joined WEESI at launch.

“What drew me to the initiative is that their objectives aligned with my values and goals too, and I just wanted to expand my business,” Manuel said.

Through WEESI, she learned solar installation, energy auditing and troubleshooting. Powering an entire building and a freezer for the first time during an installation, she said, proved her skills were not just theoretical but transformative.

For Okenwa, breaking through has also meant confronting bias. Even as a qualified engineer and CEO, clients often walked into her office asking for the male engineer.

“So many times, a man will walk into my office and ask, ‘Where is the technician? Where is the engineer?’ And I said, ‘Sir, talk to me, I am the engineer.’ Even the way he approaches me shows that he’s still not confident,” she said.

“With time, as I kept confronting my fears head-on, I have overcome those fears to a reasonable extent.”

Nigeria’s renewable energy sector still faces hurdles — high costs, policy inconsistency and poor installations by untrained technicians. According to the International Energy Agency, nearly 600 million people in Africa still live without electricity, with sub-Saharan Africa accounting for the largest share of the global access gap.

Electrical engineer Eng. Ale Oluwafeyisayo Joy notes that Nigeria still lags behind Kenya and South Africa due to weak structures and financing, but adds that solar is no longer optional.

“Solar is not an option; it’s actually a necessity,” Joy said.

For Okenwa, the future is about more than technology — it’s about who gets to build it, ensuring the next generation of girls never feels out of place in an engineering classroom.

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Features

“I Choose to See the Beauty in Being Different”: Ruth Akinwole on Living With Vitiligo and Finding Confidence

By Prosper Mene

The advocate shares how name-calling, scarves, and social media led her to self-acceptance

My name is Ruth Akinwole.

I was 8 years old when I first noticed the patches on my face. At the time, I didn’t understand what was happening. My parents thought it was eczema and assumed it would eventually go away. So I just kept living my life.

As I got older, I realized my skin was changing in a way that made me stand out. And the comments started.

“Coke and Fanta”

The one that still sticks with me happened in Primary 5. A classmate started calling me “Coke and Fanta” because of the different colours on my skin. Every time he said it, I got angry. I didn’t understand why something I never chose could be used to mock me.

Out of frustration, I once told him, “What happened to me will happen to you too.” I was just a child trying to defend myself.

“Coke and Fanta” wasn’t the only name. People accused me of bleaching. I was called “Ojuju Calabar” and “half-caste.” They were often said as jokes, but they cut deep.

What I have is vitiligo — a condition that causes loss of skin pigmentation.

Hiding Behind Scarves

Vitiligo shaped how I saw myself all through primary school, secondary school, and even during my National Diploma.

My self-esteem was at its lowest then. Anytime I was going out, I’d try to cover my face with scarves. I didn’t want stares. I didn’t want questions. Most of all, I didn’t want my skin to be the first thing people saw about me.

For years, I struggled with being different.

Finding Myself Online

Social media changed that.

For the first time, I saw people with vitiligo who looked like me and they weren’t hiding. No scarves. No apologies. They were just living.

That representation did something to me. I started sharing vitiligo awareness online, and slowly, I became more comfortable in my skin. But I still hadn’t fully found my confidence.

That came when I stopped being shy. I started going to events. I started conversations without worrying about how people saw me. I stopped letting other people’s opinions decide how I felt about myself.

Today, I’m happy about my different skin tone. What once made me feel “other” is now part of what makes me proud.

 

Why I Speak Up

My story isn’t just mine.

There are people living with vitiligo who still have very low confidence. Some are hearing the same comments I heard growing up. Some are hiding because they haven’t seen anyone who looks like them living boldly.

That’s why I started advocating.

Awareness and representation matter. Sometimes, seeing one person with your same condition show up confidently is enough to remind you: you are not alone. You can still attend events, build a career, make friends, and chase what you love. You don’t have to wait for the world to understand your skin before you accept yourself.

To Anyone With Vitiligo

You are beautiful and unique. Your skin does not reduce your worth.

You don’t have to hide because you look different. You don’t have to spend your life trying to fit into someone else’s definition of beauty.

I spent years being shy about something I didn’t choose.

Today, I choose to embrace my skin.

I choose to see the beauty in being different.

And most importantly, I choose to use my story to remind someone else that they can do the same.

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