Growing up, I often felt alone. I didn’t have a large group of friends, and for a long time, I believed connection was something that came naturally to other people but not to me. Technology became an easy substitute. It offered entertainment, distraction, and the illusion of closeness without requiring vulnerability. But as I got older, I realized that authentic human connection cannot be measured by the number of followers, messages, or notifications we receive. Real connection is built through empathy, presence, and the willingness to truly understand another person. That realization changed the direction of my life. Instead of allowing my insecurities to isolate me, I began intentionally working on myself. I learned how to communicate more openly, listen more carefully, and step outside of my comfort zone. Over time, I found a genuine friend group that showed me the value of support, trust, and shared understanding. Those relationships taught me that human connection is not about perfection or popularity. It is about creating spaces where people feel seen, valued, and safe enough to be themselves. My experiences also inspired me to study emotional wellness and resilience. I earned certifications as a Compassion Fatigue & Burnout Specialist, Mindfulness-Informed Technician, Professional Resilience Specialist, and Self-Care Technician. Through these programs, I learned how emotional exhaustion, stress, and isolation affect people in every area of life. More importantly, I learned that compassion and mindfulness are powerful tools for rebuilding connection in a disconnected world. Technology itself is not the enemy of authentic relationships. In many ways, it has made communication easier than ever before. People can maintain long-distance friendships, find support communities, and access mental health resources with a single click. However, technology becomes harmful when convenience replaces presence. Too often, conversations are shortened into reactions, emotions are hidden behind screens, and people feel pressure to present perfect versions of themselves online. As a result, many individuals feel more connected digitally while becoming emotionally disconnected in real life. To preserve authentic human connection, I believe we must become more intentional about how we interact with others. We need to prioritize empathy over performance and listening over reacting. Simple actions, such as checking in on a friend, putting phones away during conversations, or creating judgment-free spaces for honesty, can have a meaningful impact. Human connection grows when people feel heard rather than filtered through algorithms or expectations. I also believe we must re-imagine connection by integrating emotional intelligence into education, workplaces, and communities. Mental health conversations should not be treated as weaknesses but as opportunities for understanding. Resilience and mindfulness should be taught alongside academic and professional skills because relationships are foundational to every aspect of life. Strong connections improve mental health, strengthen communities, and inspire people to help one another succeed. My own journey from isolation to belonging has shown me that connection can transform lives. Because I know what loneliness feels like, I want to help create environments where others feel supported and understood. In a world driven by technology, authentic human connection will survive not through bigger platforms or faster communication, but through compassion, vulnerability, and the courage to truly care for one another.

Service has always been a central part of my life, shaped by my family, my faith, and the communities that have supported me. Through my academic achievements, church involvement, and volunteer work, I strive to live a life that reflects compassion, leadership, and dedication to others. Receiving the Forever90 Scholarship would not only help me pursue my education at UC Berkeley, but it would also allow me to continue serving communities in meaningful ways throughout my future career. Education has always been extremely important to me. I currently maintain a 4.0 GPA and have worked hard to challenge myself academically while balancing leadership and service commitments. My academic success represents more than good grades; it reflects discipline, perseverance, and gratitude for the opportunities I have been given. I believe education is one of the most powerful tools for creating change, and I plan to use my education to uplift under-served communities and advocate for those who often lack access to resources and opportunities. My faith has played a major role in shaping my values and commitment to service. I have attended Pilgrim Rest Baptist Church my entire life, and it has become a second home to me. Through my church, I have learned the importance of humility, generosity, and helping others without expecting recognition in return. I have volunteered in numerous church activities and outreach efforts, gaining firsthand experience in what it means to serve a community with love and consistency. Beyond my church, I have dedicated myself to volunteer work in several organizations, accumulating over 150 hours of community service. I have volunteered with St. Vincent de Paul, Feed My Starving Children, and St. Mary's Food Bank, where I helped provide meals, supplies, and support to individuals and families facing hardship. These experiences opened my eyes to the realities many people face every day, including food insecurity and financial instability. More importantly, they taught me that even small acts of kindness can make a meaningful impact in someone’s life. I am also an active member of the Anambra Family Association, an organization dedicated to supporting communities both locally and internationally. Recently, our organization raised funds to create and distribute backpacks filled with school supplies for children in Nigeria. Being part of this effort was especially meaningful to me because it combined two causes I deeply care about: education and community empowerment. Seeing the joy and hope these supplies brought to students reinforced my belief that service can create opportunities that change lives. This fall, I will attend University of California, Berkeley as an out-of-state student. Although I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity, the financial burden is significant, with annual tuition and expenses approaching $90,000. Despite my hard work and achievements, I have only received about $1,000 in scholarship funding so far, making financial assistance essential for me to pursue my education without overwhelming financial stress. Mrs. Marion Makins’ legacy of faith, education, and service strongly resonates with my own values and aspirations. I hope to continue embodying those principles by using my education and experiences to serve others, advocate for underserved communities, and inspire future generations to lead lives rooted in compassion and purpose.

When my period stopped at 14, I believed it was just hormonal fluctuations. Every time I experienced a hot flash, I stated, “Arizona’s just hot.” It became my mantra. I told it to myself, again and again because how could a 14-year-old have menopause? After 3 months, I told my mom what was happening and swore I wasn't pregnant. I was dragged from one hospital to another. During this time, I learned what a gynecologist and endocrinologist were. During this process, I also learned that I have small veins. A needle would be jabbed into my right elbow, then my left elbow, then back to my right elbow. At one appointment, a needle was even jabbed into my hand. Numerous needles and a year later, I was diagnosed with Primary Ovarian Insufficiency. My chance of having children was stripped away from me. I didn’t fully understand what that meant. I didn’t know how to respond when asked, “Do you want to freeze your eggs?” I also didn’t know how to express this creeping sadness that hovered at the back of my mind, always threatening to consume me. How did I manage to get a chronic disease so rare that only 1 of 1,000 people had. I felt like I had caused this to myself (“Maybe if I were more feminine, then I wouldn't have this disorder”). Maybe my refusal to wear skirts is the reason I got the disease. My question of “how and/or why did I get this” was never answered. Research into women’s health is few and far because we live in a society where women are seen as second-class citizens. I will probably never get an answer in my lifetime. I also didn’t get a cure; I got a patch. When my siblings asked why I was in and out of hospitals, I didn’t tell them. I changed the subject, or I ignored them. How do I tell them that something core to womanhood has passed me? Today, I feel less numb, but I still wrestle with the question: Do I want to freeze my eggs? I want to have a family, and my route to achieving that will be more difficult than most’s. My goal in the future is to become an astronaut. I wish I had a passion for medicine so that I could specialize in this field and find a cure for the condition, but I don’t. Maybe in the future I will fund an initiative that pushes for more funding in women’s health sciences, so that no girl has to go through what I went through.

When I was younger, I was bullied. My bully was smart; she was subtle in the way she would pick on me. She didn’t do it out in the open; she did it in the places where no one was watching. The shoving would occur in hallways where teachers weren’t present. In front of everyone, she would only do small things like step on the back of my shoe so that I would have to pull my sock up and put my foot back in my shoe. Her strategy kept her out of the limelight. If I reported her attacks, it would look as though I was blowing it out of proportion. She bullied like a cyberbully. You can’t report a cyberbully to the principal. One of my dearest friends was a victim of cyberbullying. If we ever posted a picture of ourselves together, her bully would, somehow, always find the photo and say rude, antagonizing, and degrading things to her. You can’t tell that to a trusted adult, as they would be as powerless as you. When you are online, you are alone. You can press “report” and “block” as often as you’d like, but that’s never enough. The bully doesn’t back down. The bully doesn’t rethink their actions and decide to leave you alone. That bully stands their ground and gets smarter. The bully makes new accounts and finds any other way to make your life a living hell. The bullying pushed my friend to thoughts and fantasies about suicide. I don’t want anyone to ever go through what my friend went through. My parents are middle-class, so they don’t get much aid, and they don’t get enough money to pay for our college expenses. My sister, luckily, got a full-ride scholarship from the church. Unlike her, I dare to go out of state and burden myself with even greater costs because I want to learn from the very best. I don’t want the cost of university to be an anchor that drags me down, though. This scholarship, this safe space to condemn the way people plug their ears, roll their eyes, or laugh out loud when the topic of cyberbullying is mentioned, will allow me to spread my wings. I apply to this scholarship not only because $1000 would be very helpful to put towards the overwhelmingly extreme costs of out-of-state college, but also because I am passionate about this topic. I am grateful that this scholarship has given me an opportunity to spread awareness about this serious issue.

I want to be an astronaut. My grandma was a maid. She worked as a maid for a family of another woman. My grandma had no education. She stopped school at kindergarten. My mother and father came to America to get a better life for me. They came to America because they believed in the future of my siblings and me and because they wanted to give us the life they weren’t afforded in Nigeria. All the while they toiled and struggled adjusting to America, they kept their faith in God intact. They never forsook their love for god. They had faith that, although racism was rampant and although they didn’t have a lot of money, he would give them and their children a new, beautiful life. They believed in God. My parents, alongside my siblings and I, have attended Pilgrim Rest Baptist Church since they came to Arizona. My parents worked side hustles, but eventually they found good, stable jobs. They always prayed that God would provide for them what they needed, and God did. God brought my father and mother from an apartment to a two-story house. God gave my father promotion after promotion. God strengthened my mother as she carried me in her stomach while she studied to become a nurse. We are proudly active members of Pilgrim Rest Baptist Church. After my incessant urges, my siblings and I were baptized on November 12, 2023. God blessed my family when my older sister earned a full-ride scholarship from Pilgrim Rest. God can perform wonders. I joyfully volunteer at my church. I love to pass out food to those who aren’t so blessed. I like to give because God gave me. I like to bless others because God has blessed me. He gave my parents gave me a better life than the ones my parents had, so every Sunday I happily package food. I package backpacks for kids who come from homes where God-fearing activities don’t take place so often. I am grateful for all that god gave to me. I want to be an astronaut because I am enchanted by the beautiful universe God created. I am amazed by the twinklings stars and the rick vastness of space and the perfect blue ball we call Earth. I love how god expertly designed his creation to hold life, and I want to be study astronomy because I want to study the miracle that God created. I want to study his creation every day of my life. The experience of gazing at the stars is religious to me. Help me. Fund my education, so that I can give glory to the Most High. Fund my education so that I can say thank you to my parents who sacrificed the safety and comfort of their former lives in Nigeria, and trusted that God, whilst breaking their backs, would give me the opportunities that I have today. Fund my education, so that through my career I can give glory to God.

“Clay many nickels!” she remarked – a phrase we all say after something impressive happens. Lea sprints out of the lab to inform the others. “Ardus,” I whisper. The mauronaut suit we’ve been working on for the past six months rises. A mauronaut (pronounced m – air – o – not) suit is an astronaut suit, tweaked and optimised for deep-sea – as opposed to deep-space – exploration. A decent mauronaut suit has been nothing but science fiction – until now. A hurdle of roboticists stampede into the lab. “Does the Nueracane integration work?” Nueracane (pronounced neer - a - chain) is a company that develops extraneous brain chips. In 2075, Nueracane swallowed Nueralink in a merger. “Is the EI responsive?” EI stands for enhanced intelligence. EI is different from AI because EI is developed using biological matter and quantum computing while AI uses only mechanical parts and typically uses classical computing. AI is a machine; EI is a superhuman. “Have you tested its autonomous emergency response system?” “Did you try her on?” “All my software and hardware will be tested shortly,” Ardus (the EI built into our first mauronaut suit) replies. Gukesh drops his clipboard. Adaeze squeals. It’s not rare or surprising to hear “things” talk. The train talks; the plane talks; the trash talks; the toilet talks. Everything has enhanced intelligence - depending on where you live of-course. If you don’t work as hard as everyone else and don’t contribute as much to society as everyone else, then your life will be more digital. My coworkers are excited because this is the first time Ardus has worked with the mauronaut suit. “Connect to Ardus,” I command intranuerosly. Intranuerosly is an adjective used to describe dialogue that occurs within one’s mind; it is most commonly used to describe commands given to chips. Linguistically, the word intranuerosly was developed around 2036. “I am connected to Chiamaka’s nuchip,” states Ardus extranuerosly. “Incredible!” gushes China. Adaeze pushes her right ear into the side of her head and then blinks twice to call Zelu. “Ardus is galvanised, ready for critical testing,” Adaeze declares. Zelu’s hologram gazes at the mauronaut suit. “I have disconnected from Chiamaka’s nuchip. I am now connected to Zelu’s nuchip,” Ardus beams. “You’re taking her away already?” Chiamaka quips. “Her hardware was perfect. Now that the software is running smoothly, I’ll take Ardus in for the experimental trials. Next month or so, we will release her to the public. Good work, everyone,” Zelu starts to clap as her hologram fades out. We continue clapping, and Ardus rolls out of the door and to the R Building. The R Building is where devices go to be pen-tested and made secure against cybersecurity attacks. If a rogue unauthorised party gets control over a single mauronaut suit on a deep-sea mission, that could be disastrous. “Connect to Erno. Get me a mac & cheese bacon sandwich from Grill’z,” I tell my personal assistant, Erno, intranuerosly. He wheels away. I groan as I stand up and walk towards my teammates, who are all huddled together, to socialise. “Guys, I can’t believe we actually did this. God, I knew the problem was in the Ardus’s coding, not the suits.” “Yo, we are totally gonna beat South America. None of their suits gave mauronauts the ability to exist outside of submarines.” I smile as I listen to their words. We just changed the world, and it was so fun. I love coding so much because I love solving problems. It took everything. It took sleepless nights, but it was worth it. I also smile as I think about my upcoming space trip around Mars with my wife. It’s the perfect 2nd honeymoon. *** I sit. I sit on the dirty sidewalk. The sun curses me. The sun snarls at me. I wish the sun would eat me. I wish I were a block of ice that the sun could evaporate away. I was fired today. They didn’t need me to serve food anymore. Apparently, the clanker is a better cook than me. God! This world is so dystopic. Everything is about machines now. I heard they just developed an autonomous mauronaut suit. My kid is dying. My daughter has sickle cell. She is always sick, and I can’t help her. There are more treatment options now than there were 50 years ago, but they are incredibly expensive. Seeing that I am out of work, I definitely can’t afford them. I was gonna buy food today, but I just remembered that my rent is due. All I do day in and day out is work and then come home and try to comfort my daughter. She constantly howls as she’s always in pain for one reason or another. I can feel a panic attack kicking in. Recently, there was a protest. I didn’t have the energy to stomp around all day, and about 5 percent of protesters per protest are killed by drones, so I didn’t go. It’s hard to organise good protests, too, because all Nueracane traffic is monitored by the government. Every protest is expected and prepared for. The drones already man the skies before the protesters even get their. “Buy Valina Water, 100% nature made,” the AI ad tells me. I hate Nueracane. I can’t afford the standard version; I can only afford the guilty version (free), so every 30 minutes, a new ad is whispered into my ear. I can always remove my nuchip; it’s like a sticker, but I need it. It provides much-needed distractions from day-to-day life (for example, it can simulate the feeling of sex even when you’re just by yourself. I have no friends. Everything is self- (e.g self-checkout, self-tour, self-serve). If you do anything illegal, the cameras will just catch you, and the clankers will deal with you. I see people all the time, but rarely do I ever chat with anyone. “Music,” I request intranuerosly. I get up and walk home.