I think charity is dead. Having worked in ministry and seen what it's like for smaller ministries and smaller nonprofits to survive, they are desperate for every single donation. And without a donation, they don't exist. I started a nonprofit media organization, and I was never comfortable asking for donations — but the people we were serving weren't the ones who could sow into us. Without outside big donors, we had no chance of survival. And the minute you start working with those big donors, you surrender a lot of control, because they want something back.

The Echo Village, for me, means keeping it natural. This is the source — the original idea in its purest form. Because we're going to Bafut, we're trying to preserve indigenous culture. We're trying to preserve the wisdom and knowledge that has been around this area for so long, even before the Germans came here. This is about preservation. But without that message getting out to the world, it's not sustainable.

So the options are: you can sell your soul, letting corporate donors come in and take over, telling everyone how to do everything — and you lose the purity of it. Or you build a sovereign franchise. Sovereign means keeping yourself pure and free, without corruption, without corporate takeover, without outside influence. This model is about creating sovereignty and prosperity in the local communities we work in. And no matter where we go in the world — even when we go to Uganda — Bafut comes with us. We want to keep the purity of that community. We don't want to come in and disrupt it.

Gentrification has had a massive effect on communities in America, and I'm sure in other places in the world. We're seeking to keep the purity of the self, the God-given gifts and talents, and the cultures people grew up learning about — keeping that intact, while still finding a way to take it out to the world to create endless revenue streams and empower the community. It's also about bringing people back home. So many people left home to find opportunity. We want to create something here so that when they come back, what they see is what they grew up hearing about. The culture stayed intact — but now with opportunity and sovereignty.

We're not even using a microphone now — and I didn't have one when I started either. There's a video out there of me crying when I bought my first microphone, because I had been homeless when I first started my talk show. Media Company in a Box is the media system I created that shows creatives of all kinds, regardless of background — whether you have any money in your bank account, whether you're mentally ill, whether you're disabled, whether you're a convict, whether you're wealthy — how to build endless revenue streams from your God-given gifts, talents, wisdom, stories, and intellectual property, all while protecting that IP.

Here's the secret: it's the same process to publish a book as it is to publish a YouTube video. Creating merchandise — which, by the way, you can do for free — follows the same basic process. A podcast is the same thing as a YouTube video with a few small changes. So stop wasting your gifts on social media alone. Use social media for fun, then use it to drive traffic back to a platform you own. There are free websites you can build from a phone. You don't need money to start. Is it better to have money? Absolutely. But creators — if you're putting all of this beautiful, thoughtful content into someone else's feed, save the good stuff for the platform you own.

When we put our content on platforms like YouTube, Facebook, or X, we don't really own it. Even if you're monetized on those platforms — which is hard — you don't get everything you're worth. To host your own video requires storage, and storage costs money. If you publish a book for free on Amazon, sure, you hold the copyright, but it doesn't feel like true ownership when you're paying a commission to be on their platform.

What I teach is how to generate multiple revenue streams so you can invest in a platform that becomes completely sovereign — where you can host the video yourself, and drive traffic to your platform using clips on social. Even if you can't afford your own hosting yet, you can still condition your audience to come to your platform. You can offer paid lecture series, chef masterclasses, consulting, educational programs, blogs monetized with banner ads or affiliate relationships.

The one thing I recommend every creator do from day one: start building a mailing list. As revenue grows, invest in self-hosting, then move toward owning the rights to your book outright so you can sell directly from your own platform. When you do, you keep 100% of the money — because as a creator, you deserve that. You may not be able to do it all at once, but you can do it in increments.

And to the teachers listening: you have an opportunity right now to teach an international audience no matter where you are in the world. Private homeschool lessons, languages, specialized subjects — there is so much you can do. My book goes into detail. And if you're in Cameroon, my book is available to you for free.

Actually, I don't even want to take credit for this idea — it's yours. And I'll say this: in America, people mock solar panels and renewable energy. They don't really take it seriously, partly because solar is expensive compared to other places in the world. But I've had a complete attitude adjustment since arriving in Cameroon. In almost a month here, we've been without electricity for long stretches — five consecutive days at one point. We don't have grid electricity right now as we record this. When my computer dies, it's dead.

So solar panels are not a "green aesthetic" choice for us — they are the foundation. With solar energy and the way lighting works, people can work at the village around the clock, across multiple shifts. Construction will move far faster than it ever could on a traditional timeline, because we are not dependent on the power grid. We create our own power first — and everything else is built on top of that.

Think of the Echo Village as Netflix — but multimedia, omnimedia Netflix. Podcasts, radio, films, documentaries, books, courses, consulting. The Echo Village itself is the platform. Each person inside it is a "movie." Our lives are movies — we carry stories, intellectual property, gifts, talents. At a minimum, each person attached to a hub has eight revenue streams. On my own website, I have over seventy, because every new creation is a new stream.

So you have your personal channel. And then every student, every member of the staff of twenty-five, has their own channel. That's already one gigantic media organization with multiple revenue streams running through it. The difference is that, unlike Netflix, the creator makes the majority of the money. The house — the Echo Village — takes a cut, but it is not the majority. For sustainability and sovereignty, the creatives must be able to earn.

Phase two: each new hub operates the same way and they are all interconnected. When we launch in Nakivale Refugee Settlement, Uganda — working with Ahadi Bobo and the team there — that hub is sovereign. It is Ugandan in identity. It looks like Uganda. But we are a family of networks. Our team travels to support theirs. We learn their culture and carry it back to Bafut. Think McDonald's or Walmart franchise — except the creatives own the stories, and the community owns the land.

The mother ship, the epicenter, is Bafut. If you've been to Bamenda and Bafut, and you've been to Los Angeles, you already know: the energy is the same. The talent, the music, the arts, the acting, the landscape — it could be the next entertainment capital of the world, but entertainment for good. Entertainment that empowers rather than enslaves. And from there we move outward — Nigeria, wherever we're called. My goal is to take care of Africa first. I want to see Africa rise and become sovereign. It is about time Africa stood on its own and offered its value to the world — because frankly, the world should be coming to Africa on its knees, not stealing from it.

A lot of people think I'm here to take, so I love to address this. It cost a great deal for me to get here, and I paid for it myself. It costs a great deal for me to stay — security, a driver, a secure location, food, data. I'm not charging the Cameroonians I work with. My services fund my presence here. Any additional revenue goes back into this work: more staff, better food, resources for the community. Many of the revenue opportunities I could personally claim on the ground, I don't.

I have to pay for the data that gets these messages out. I am using every media skill I have to attract resources — and it's working. We have resources coming from Sweden. Locals are donating electrical equipment for a school to train electricians. Sewing machines are on their way. Partnerships and donations are flowing in from the visibility this work generates. That is what you fund when you hire me. You're helping me continue to fight and to pull in resources. We are effectively blacklisted from most grants because this is Cameroon — so someone has to be here, in the dust, doing the work, and that takes money.

In ten years, Bafut becomes what Hollywood was — but clean. I still love LA. There is something undeniable about being in a place where everyone is pursuing their dreams. But I remember being placed in situations in Hollywood where the only way to get the part was to compromise my values. I compromised a few times and I regretted it. After I gave my life to the Lord, I didn't — and I remember what it cost. I told myself: if I ever get the chance to build this right, for all the people who have been taken advantage of, I will.

I believe people will come to Bafut in ten years, from all over the world, to pursue their dreams — and more importantly, to learn how Bafut did it. How this community rose from the ashes into sustainability and prosperity. I see agriculture as a centerpiece, with farmers truly prospering — farming finally treated as the powerful, dignified profession it is. Actors and musicians showcasing world-class talent from here. People landing at the Bafut airport to make their dreams come true. The weather is better than Hollywood. That is what I see.

I have been serving virtually for many years and had many opportunities to come to Africa. I thought I would be in Nigeria first — I'd worked with the Hult Prize for several years, and my book was used in a Nigerian college where I translated it into West African Pidgin. I didn't know anything about Bafut until I interviewed you. Doing research for that interview, I was blown away by what was happening here. Halfway through the conversation, I realized we shared the same vision. That alignment is why I'm here.

And there is something deeper. My childhood visions — after being molested — what I saw in the royal palace, where your father lives, looked exactly like that. The most traumatizing event of my life had shown me the place where I would fulfill my purpose, and where I would heal. I don't believe in being in a relationship with anyone I don't share a vision with. We have perfect alignment. That is why I am here.

Your father has been king for fifty-two years, and his palace is a UNESCO World Heritage site. What does it mean to build this Echo Village in the shadow of that legacy?

Bafut has fifty-four sub-villages and five hundred and eighty thousand people. Why Nchum? Why is this specific piece of land the right place for the flagship hub?

So much indigenous agricultural knowledge in Bafut has been lost since the conflict began. What are you fighting hardest to preserve?

The women of Bafut have always been the economic backbone of this community. What role do you see them playing in the Echo Village — beyond what they've been allowed to do before?

Well done. We are running out of battery entirely, so we're going to do a part two. This was fun. Amplify our voices. Share our videos. Let our vision go viral. This is The World's Mayor Experience, signing off.