It was a beautiful rainy morning, and I was hesitant to get out of bed to prepare for school, where I volunteered as a teacher for Standard Six. While still lying down, I received a WhatsApp message from my Volunteer Liaison (VL). He asked, “What was the total budget of your project?” I quickly replied with the figure.I got up, prepared myself, and headed to school. While I was teaching, the VL called me directly. He said, “Go and meet your project team and discuss expanding your budget.”I was confused because he didn’t explain much more. After class, I texted him, “What do you mean by expanding the budget?” He responded, “Add things you had left out because of funding, and include other necessary items.” I replied, excitedly, “Okay, I’ll do that.” But I still didn’t fully understand the reason behind this update. I assumed CorpsAfrica/Malawi had increased the project funding.

Later that day, as I left school and walked back to my community to find the Project Team Chairperson and call for an emergency meeting, I received a call from the CorpsAfrica/Malawi Communications Officer. Due to poor network coverage, I couldn’t hear him clearly. I rushed to find a better signal, and when he called again, I answered. “Devlin, can you hear me?” “Yes, I can,” I said. “Your project has been selected to be pitched this year. Work with your VL to expand your budget.”At that moment, everything clicked. I finally understood the VL’s urgency. Pitch Day! The biggest CorpsAfrica event, where prominent people gather to support volunteer projects. I froze for a moment, this would be my first time speaking in front of such a significant audience.I called a fellow volunteer to share the news. He said, “That’s a big opportunity to sell your project to different organizations. You’re going to make it—just stay positive.”That evening, as I cooked a meal, my mind was racing with thoughts. I hadn’t managed to meet the chairperson because of the heavy rain. The next morning, I went to her house early, but she had already gone to the farm. Later, she sent her daughter to call me, and when we met, I explained everything the VL had told me.Excitement lit up her face. “Nkhani yabwino kwambiri!” (“This is very good news!”) she said, and immediately called for an emergency committee meeting. The Chairperson presented the update, and everyone was thrilled to hear we could expand the budget. One committee member said, “Zikomo alangizi potulira chinthu ichi.” (“Thank you for bringing us this important information.”)

Together, we revised and expanded our budget. I submitted the updated version and implemented all the corrections suggested by the VL. The CorpsAfrica/Malawi team did a great job preparing us for the big day. The days passed quickly, and soon we were deep into rehearsals.When the day of the Pitch Event arrived, I walked into the room with a mix of nerves and purpose. I was there to present the Diesel Maize Mill Project, a solution born out of countless community conversations and a response to a pressing issue: financial insecurity and access to maize milling. People in my community walk up to 10 kilometers just to grind maize, a basic food staple. Our project aimed to change that by creating local economic opportunities for 60 households. Standing before the audience, I felt the weight of responsibility—but also deep pride. Pride in our project team, in the careful planning we’d done, and in the fact that our solution came from within the community itself. I spoke with confidence, alongside my counterpart, knowing that this wasn’t just my project—it belonged to all of us.

The feedback was inspiring. There were tough questions that challenged me to think more critically about sustainability. There were also affirming comments that validated our work and vision. I learned that clear, authentic storytelling rooted in community impact is more powerful than perfect public speaking. One of the greatest lessons I took from Pitch Day is this: preparation must be rooted in purpose. It’s not enough to know your project—you must believe in it and be able to communicate that belief effectively. I discovered that when you tell a story that centers your community’s voice, your impact becomes undeniable. I also learned to embrace difficult questions—they push your thinking and can turn a good idea into a great one. Pitch Day was more than just an event. It was a turning point. It reminded me why I volunteer, why I listen to my community, and why their ideas matter.