“Why are you running?”

The fundamental question one can ask a politician, whether they be a complete novice in the area or a seasoned veteran who had canvased voters, potential voting blocs and platforms, revolves around “why.” All politicians are citizens first, viewers of the outer workings of infrastructure, how things look, what issues transition into policy, and how new a newly minted system affects the community. Obes Nwabara, a Nigerian-American and proud Houstonian, has watched education in Harris County spiral out of control.

“I want to make sure that our students have access to programs that they need,” Nwabara, a candidate for the Harris County Department of Public Education Board of Trustees, tells me during a lengthy phone conversation. “I look at Harris County students that we have the third-largest county in America. If we don't ensure that the students that are coming up now, whether they're, you know, pre-K, elementary school, middle school, high school, or even people that are going to get certifications to be adults ... it's all education. We will make sure that they have the resources they need to keep it accessible now.”

He has weighed the potential of possibly becoming a career politician, with a major focus on education. His grandfather was a minister in Nigeria, so was his grandmother. Both were college professors and his grandmother helped arrange travel from children of her Sunday School in Nigeria to visit the United States every week. Acts of service are big within Nwabara and when he speaks, he rarely allows his words to trip over themselves. Every statement comes in solid, aware proclamations.

As the child of Nigerian immigrants, Nwabara sees in his father his initial passion for politics. The elder Nwabara left Nigeria when he was 12 during the country’s civil war from 1967 to 1970 and his son’s initial ambitions were to become President of his home country. In his young mind, the President was the individual who yielded the most power, who had the greatest ability to enact change for the people. Nwabara’s father initially didn’t see his son’s political career blossoming when he told them he was running for public office. After seeing Obes’ name on an official ballot, he soon turned around.

“There was first a bit of heavy skepticism,” he says with a laugh, “But they’ve been very supportive. He and my mother have been my biggest fans as I’ve been on this path. They’ve been so instrumental to me being where I am right now.”

Nwabara’s adult life didn’t gravitate towards politics immediately. It threw him from Houston to Dallas for 18 months from 2017 to 2019, where he got to be on the ground as an organizer, elevating the Latino Voter Empowerment Coalition and throwing hours into supporting Beto

O’Rourke during the West Texas firebrand’s run for Senate. But most importantly, it was watching the election of 2016 where his voice became louder.

“I can't just wait on the sidelines,” he says of his call to running for public office. “I just don't want to do that. Now's the time to do it. And there's a lot of people that like an activist and on the ground like boots on the ground, and I think that it's something that's vital towards making change. I think an even bigger part is for those people that are the activists on the ground, they need somebody that is like an ally and advocate for their causes at the actual table. And I feel like that's what I'm best suited to be -- that advocate for them. How can you, if you're the person that's at the table, that's when you can sort of make those big changes? That’s where my best bet is.”

As Nwabara made his peace in Dallas and began viewing the education system with a different lens, he noticed something. There isn’t much difference in how the Dallas Independent School District and the Houston Independent School District operate, especially in families versus individuals who don’t have kids. Those without children paid little mind to the actions of the major school districts. Those with children fled the major districts and opted for districts enclosed within suburbia. With school districts funded by property taxes, those who don’t live in areas with houses and live in apartments deliver less in property taxes to the school districts.

“There's not that same emphasis on education that there is for people that live in the suburbs who pay higher property taxes, because they own those homes,” Nwabara says. “Orm somebody owns a home, whether it's the person living in or not. “And then there's more computers, that are books that are after school programs, even things like sports programs, or sports for more money into sports programs. So those kids have a better education in the suburbs than the city kids do. I want to put more resources into those public schools.”

Most first-time politicians are idealists at heart. Nwabara recognizes the best-laid course of action for Harris County schools in his eyes, is multi-tiered plans. In his eyes, Harris County should focus on three things: Headstart, a Pre-K program based on income as well as language, after-school programs and assuming therapy sessions. Headstart is aimed for children within Houston’s numerous wards and areas which do not include Northeast Harris County. Nwabara sees the benefit of Headstart and how it connects children to a learning environment with their peers. He’s seeking more, in particular for children whose concepts of learning stop when the bell rings.

“A lot of kids in our county, go through, you know, unspeakable things when they're not at school,” Nwabara begins, detailing a story of a friend of his who grew up in Acres Homes and how he was in conflict with another student throughout their time in school. When the two students met before they were set to graduate, the truth came out.

Nwabara recalls, “He said to the guy, ‘How come we never got along?’ And the guy tells him, ‘ Hey, you know, my mom has been on drugs full time, I just didn't know how to deal with that I want to talk to anybody want to come to school.’’ And that's an unhealthy coping mechanism,

like lashing out at other people, especially people that are not related to the issues that you’re having. Had he been able to speak to somebody and learn coping techniques, he might have had a completely different educational experience. There are these things that build upon each other. It becomes generational.”

Due to policy and redlining practices that cut up the district, Nwabara feels current Board programs need expansion but sadly don’t have the resources. In conversations with the Labor Union, he offered vocational trades as an alternative and has seen the process work in states such as Delaware, a state whose population is four times smaller than Harris County. But redlining is still a prominent issue, whether you’re a parent or single concerned about the future.

“The Harris County Department of Education cannot face redlining,” Nwabara says. “But, we can institute programs that supersede the effects of redlining to give our children the best chance at success in and out of the classroom.”

Nwabara may be a fresh face to many but he’s been speaking to constituents, becoming more aware of HISD’s fight against the state of Texas before a full state takeover is enacted. He believes that the state government “doesn’t apply the same standard equally,” and if they did, state takeovers would occur more often.

“I think the people that actually live and attend these schools should make the decisions about what happens,“ Nwabara says. “These people are not stupid that live in Harris County. They recognize that there are issues, but they also feel like we can solve the issues ourselves.”

More than anything about caring for the community, Nwabara says the biggest difference he wants to make is constituents hold him accountable. Unlike others, he’s set out numerous plans and wants to see them through.

“I'm here to serve the people of Harris County,” he says. “And that's what I hope to do.”