Sintian Fara, Guinea-Bissau — When Thierno Ousmane Diao speaks, the courtyard falls silent. Men and women sit on plastic chairs, forming a semicircle, babies wrapped on the backs of their mothers. A handful of teenagers lean against the trunk of a mango tree, while another group of older men sit cross-legged on woven mats. No one interrupts. Heads nod in rhythm as he talks about something once considered secondary in this rural village: education.
“In the past, we thought school was only for those who had money,” he says, his voice steady but warm. “Now we understand it is the key to dignity — for boys and for girls.”
Diao is not a politician or a development official. He is the village imam — the kind of leader who is called when a child is born, when a couple marries, when a dispute threatens to divide neighbors. But today, he is also something else: a trained facilitator of Tostan’s Community Empowerment Program, a non-formal education initiative that teaches literacy, human rights, and community leadership in local languages.
Like many adults in Sintian Fara, he never had the chance to attend school. Guinea-Bissau’s adult literacy rate hovers around 54 percent, and nearly 98 million children across sub-Saharan Africa remain out of school. Girls are the most affected — especially in rural areas where early marriage, low income, and tradition still dictate futures.
Diao once believed that was simply fate. Then came the training.
“We participated in awareness sessions with Tostan,” he recalls. “We understood the importance of education, and that pushed us to take ownership of the project.”
Ownership meant action. Residents donated land. Families pledged small amounts of money. Brickmakers offered labor. And instead of waiting for an NGO to “bring” a school, they built one themselves.
“I help educate people so they can enhance school,” Diao explains. “This is what will allow them to ensure a better future for themselves.”
One of the most striking moments came the day he addressed the village, men and women together — something rare in many West African communities. Witnesses say people listened “as if in prayer.” Women nodded along, not silently, but as participants. Days later, they were hauling sand and water for the school foundation.
“As a custodian of our traditions and values, I believe we must choose what is good for children,” he says. “Giving them the chance to go to school is one of the best things we can offer.”
Across the region, religious and traditional leaders—once seen as barriers to progress—are now becoming powerful catalysts for change. For over three decades, Tostan has engaged these leaders, recognizing their moral authority and their unique ability to influence social norms from within communities. Closing the gap in education is essential to achieving the ambitions of Africa’s Agenda 2063 and the Sustainable Development Goals, and their leadership is proving critical in making that vision a reality.
“When you educate a girl, you are educating the whole society,” Diao says. “Islamic teachings highlight that the quest for knowledge is important for both girls and boys.”
The school now stands where a thorn field once grew. Diao still leads prayers, still mediates conflicts, still performs funerals. But when he walks past the new building, he pauses.
“This is also a kind of prayer,” he says. “One that will continue long after I am gone.”
