They called it tradition.
They called it duty.
But in the South-East, they also called it the August Meeting.
Every year, like clockwork, mothers and daughters of the Catholic Women Organisation packed their bags, slipped on their best wrappers, and hit the roads. They were heading home — to gather, to talk development, to mend fences, to keep a tradition older than their children.
But this year… the road wasn’t the same.
—
Maria stood at the motor park in Enugu, clutching her bag tighter than she’d ever gripped her rosary. The fare had doubled. A whisper from the next passenger froze her spine: “They kidnapped a bus just last week… ransom in millions.”
The headlines didn’t lie. Priests taken in broad daylight (ACN UK, 2024), schoolchildren snatched in the dead of night (Catholic Review, 2024). Ransom was no longer a shock; it was a price tag on human life.
Maria wasn’t alone in her fear. Across the South-East, women whispered the same story: “I’ll just send money instead.” The transport costs — sometimes more than their yearly dues — were killing the spirit before insecurity could touch them (The Sun NG, 2024).
—
But here’s the twist no one saw coming.
What if the August Exodus didn’t have to be an exodus at all?
What if Maria, and thousands like her, could meet online, while channeling the transport money into the very projects they travelled to discuss?
Imagine:
Local skill-building workshops funded from saved fares.
Digital training sessions for rural women who can’t risk the road.
Community security initiatives that make next year’s journey safer.
More microgrants for widows, mothers, and girls — because the budget wasn’t swallowed by fuel and bus fares.
The August Meeting’s soul isn’t in the bus ride. It’s in the bond. In the ideas. In the power of women working together for their community. Those can still happen — without walking straight into danger’s arms.
—
Maria’s story could have ended in a headline. Instead, it ended in a Zoom call — her face glowing on the screen, pledging her contribution, and planning a local meet-up just ten minutes from home.
Tradition isn’t about where you meet. It’s about why you meet. And if the road to August has become a hunting ground, maybe it’s time to take a different route.
This year, let’s keep our mothers safe.
Let’s keep the meeting alive — but smarter.
Because tradition should never cost a life
