There are places in Ghana that exist almost like myths. Places so remote, so unique, that even mentioning them sparks wonder. Nzulezu is one of those places. Built entirely on stilts above Lake Tadane, accessible only by canoe, this village lives where water meets sky and modern convenience remains a distant concept.
In 2024, we brought HIECH Foundation’s most ambitious project to this floating community. “Manus Amore,” hands of love, wasn’t just a donation drop. It was a multi-day immersion, a comprehensive outreach, and our largest single investment to date. Because reaching Nzulezu requires more than money. It requires commitment.
The journey alone tells the story. Three-hour drive from Accra. Another hour navigating rough roads where GPS loses its way. Then, the canoes. Volunteers and supplies loaded into traditional wooden canoes, gliding across the lake’s mirror surface, watching Nzulezu emerge from the mist like something from a storybook.
But this wasn’t a storybook. This was real life for families who live in one of Ghana’s most spectacular yet challenging environments. Children here don’t walk to school. They canoe. Families don’t run to the corner store. Supplies come weekly, if at all. Education and nutrition compete with geography and isolation daily.
We set up base in the community center, which sits on stilts like everything else. The first day was dedicated to feeding. Hot meals for children who often go hungry, nutrition that growing bodies desperately need. Watching those kids eat wasn’t just satisfying; it was sacred. Food is love made edible, especially when it’s been scarce.
The second day brought education supplies. Notebooks, pens, crayons, textbooks, and reading materials. Items that seemed simple until you remembered the journey they’d taken to arrive here. Every pencil that made it to Nzulezu represented determination. Every book represented the belief that these children’s education matters just as much as any child’s in Accra.
The teachers in Nzulezu possess a special kind of dedication. They chose this assignment knowing the challenges, knowing the isolation, and knowing they’d be far from family and convenience. When we handed them supplies, they didn’t just say thank you. They wept. “Nobody comes here,” one teacher told us. “We feel forgotten. But you came. You actually came.”
The children of Nzulezu have something you don’t often see in city children: pure, unfiltered wonder. They gathered around volunteers, touching our clothes, asking questions, performing traditional songs, and showing us their village with pride that geography hadn’t diminished. They’d learned early that their location didn’t define their worth, even if the world sometimes forgot they existed.
By the final day, something had shifted. This wasn’t HIECH Foundation visiting Nzulezu. This was family reconnecting with family. We’d shared meals, stories, laughter, and tears. We’d slept in the village, woken to the sound of canoes on water, and learned what life looks like when you live in harmony with nature by necessity, not choice.
The return journey was quiet. Volunteers processed what they’d witnessed, what they’d learned, and what they’d felt. Several recorded voice notes, trying to capture the experience before it faded into memory. One volunteer said it best: “I came thinking I was bringing something to Nzulezu. But Nzulezu gave me far more than I gave it.”
This is what “Manus Amore” means. Hands of love extend both ways. Yes, we fed children and provided educational materials. But we also received gifts. Perspective, gratitude, connection, and proof that community can reach anywhere, even a village on stilts above a lake that GPS can’t find.
To every donor who made this our largest project possible: you sent us to the edge of the map. You invested in children who live in one of Ghana’s most remote communities. You proved that distance is no match for determined love. You showed Nzulezu that they’re not forgotten.
And to Nzulezu: you reminded us why we do this work. You showed us that joy doesn’t require convenience, that education thrives anywhere given the chance, and that community exists wherever people gather, whether on solid ground or floating above ancient waters.
Nzulezu taught us that love has no geography. Hands reach anywhere when hearts lead the way.
Five years. Five projects. One unstoppable community. This is what’s possible when people decide that change doesn’t require massive organizations or government programs. Sometimes it just requires neighbors helping neighbors, one project at a time. Thank you for being part of the HIECH Foundation story. Here’s to the next five years.
