In August 2024, as the feverish exam season drew to a close, marking the end of the academic year, the engineering faculty at the University of Lagos, Nigeria, upheld its tradition of celebrating with an awards dinner. But that year, something was different. A new award was being introduced: the Engineering Spirit Award. Its first-ever recipient, Motunrayo Sanyaolu, a third-year electrical engineering student, was no surprise to the faculty. Even among her seniors—including some jaded by the rigidity of their studies—the 21-year-old had already made a name for herself on campus as a passionate inventor.
In her first year, Sanyaolu was already working with lecturers on tech projects and mentoring fellow students, according to Emmanuel Awolowo, one of her friends. By her second year, she had published a book—downloaded by about 150 students—encouraging them to take their first steps toward innovation. That same year, she applied for a Nigerian patent for a heating blanket, a low-cost, off-grid solution for clinics too underfunded for incubators. She had initially started the project with a group of four before continuing it alone. The blankets could reduce the 62% rate of hypothermia affecting newborns shuffled between hospitals. Designed to cost below ₦50,000 ($32), they have the potential to eliminate desperate hacks like hot water bottles in cots, which can leave nurses and babies burned.
“If anyone else had won, it would have been shocking,” said Orobosa Isokpunwu, echoing several students of the faculty. Isokpunwu is collaborating with Sanyaolu to refine the blanket for an upcoming competition that could provide an opportunity for clinical trials in Nigeria.
I waited in a design studio, nestled in the Faculty of Social Sciences at the University of Lagos, to see Sanyaolu and the blanket in action.
I first met Sanyaolu in February at Google DevFest, where she was ushering speakers at the event. She had casually mentioned that she was working on an off-grid incubator alternative—humble and unassuming as if it were no big deal in a country with an epileptic power supply. I wondered if she downplayed it because hardware doesn’t get the spotlight that software does in a coding crowd, or if that was just how she carried herself. Heading into our meeting, I was surprised to learn that she was a celebrity of sorts in the Faculty of Engineering at one of Nigeria’s most respected universities.
Friends and coworkers—she balances a job at the design studio with her studies—were also fans. They all said the same thing: she had an infectious passion for experimentation and building technology.
At the design studio, Sanyaolu, wearing the same bright smile and cornrows that needed to be redone, sat at a table with two versions of her heating blanket between us. They looked like furry toy coats, one wrapped around a big baby doll.
“We’re working on a third iteration,” she said, touching one of them. “Better heating system and a better look. We’re applying for a competition that will provide an opportunity for clinical trials and more funding to make it more marketable to hospitals.” Until then, she’s also juggling an amusing project: a laser gun for real-life Call of Duty.
“It would be coupled with a web app, but the shots can be fired in real life,” she explained. “Still working on the programming and mechanism. It’ll be big, like paintball guns.” She was designing that for a game with a group of students she was supporting at the hub.
From Python to prototyping
I asked her what influenced her inclination to build, and the farthest she could trace it was to the first time she watched Big Hero 6, a movie about a young robotics prodigy named Hiro Hamada, who teams up with a robot and four other nerds to save their hometown from an evil supervillain trying to take over with Hiro’s invention.
“In the movie, Hiro had a lab filled with futuristic inventions. I remember turning to my dad and telling him, ‘I want to be like this—rich enough to have a lab where I tinker all day,’” she recalled.
Sanyaolu lost her dad, who was a nurse, a few years later to COVID-19, but that dream remained alive. After years of taking apart fans and other devices—some never went back together—she chose electrical engineering at UNILAG, just across the border from Ogun State, where she grew up.
Her first year was all focus—eight hours of study a day, she said. Then the 2022 strike hit, lasting eight months and throwing her off.
“It felt endless,” she said. “Studying with no end, no clue when we would resume.”
She kept at it for a while, keeping lectures fresh, but as the wait dragged on, she turned elsewhere: programming. A friend had introduced her to Python in secondary school. During the strike, she finished a Harvard intro course online and then found Computer Science Academy Africa (CSA), a Python boot camp.
“It was pivotal,” she said.
It opened up new coding concepts and introduced her to the Internet of Things (IoT), where software meets hardware.
“In secondary school, I had been torn between the two,” she said. “IoT showed me they could blend.”
She wrapped the program with a home automation project, leaving as a beginner programmer and hardware developer. Now clear-eyed about the kind of technology she wanted to build, she took on an internship at an innovation hub in Unilag. Students there were recruited to work on healthcare-related projects. The choice to work in healthcare was, in part, influenced by her father’s background. However, she clarified that her interest wasn’t in medicine itself.
“I’m more interested in exoskeletons, wheelchairs, and external assistive devices,” she said. “I don’t like working with internal organs; they seem too fragile.” It also didn’t help that her father, who had been a nurse, often returned home with gory tales of surgical procedures. Sanyaolu shook her head gently as if to shake off the memories.
After the 2022 strike, her internship became a full-time role. She was recently promoted, now earning ₦50,000 monthly—but more than the paycheck, she valued the access it gave her: 3D printers, development kits, and an endless supply of components to bring her ideas to life.
“Before the internship, I had ideas I wanted to work on, but I only had a small kit from CSA with basic components—an Arduino, a mini motor, a breadboard, some sensors, and light bulbs. It was enough to get started but not to keep going. Here, I have access to so much more: 3D printers, a variety of sensors, electrical components, and development kits. It’s a space where you can come in with an idea and leave with a working product.”
She glanced at the 3D printer behind us and wrapped her arms around herself to contain her excitement.
“Have you named it yet?” I asked.
She laughed. “I’ve thought about buying one—one to two million naira. I’ve been saving, but I’m happy with this one for now.”
Mastering the science, owning the future
Working as technical support on the team has given Sanyaolu a new perspective on her dreams. She now envisions her future lab as an open space where anyone with an idea can bring it to life. Until she can afford to build that dream, her book—written last year—was a step in that direction.
“I wanted to fill the gaps in our education system,” she explained. “Many engineering students lose their passion because they lack hands-on experience. They don’t always get the technical knowledge they expected when they enrolled. I wanted to create a guide to help students bridge that gap—to show them the resources available to them and how they can get started on their own.”
Her 52-page book, sprinkled with quotes from legendary scientists and tech founders, offers practical advice on cultivating curiosity, creativity, and technical skills. The aesthetics of the self-published book could benefit from more formal editing, but it serves as a solid primer for young people with a flicker of ambition. Awolowo, her friend and classmate, finds it inspiring, even as he considers shifting away from engineering into politics upon graduation.
“Sanyaolu inspires everyone to do more and make the extra effort. She pushes me to put in my best work and try new things,” said Awolowo, who has also taken up an internship at the design studio where Sanyaolu works.
Looking back, however, Sanyaolu sees room for improvement in the book.
“At the time, I thought it was the best thing ever. Now, I see areas that could be better.”
Ultimately, she’s aiming to master her career and earn enough to focus on passion projects.
“I admire Mark Rober. He worked at NASA and Apple before gaining the financial stability to create whatever he wanted on YouTube. He has the time, money, and freedom to explore his ideas. That’s what I want—independence,” she explained. “I may not end up at NASA or Apple, but I want to work for a hardware-focused company to gain hands-on experience. After a few years, I’d like to establish something in the IoT space, possibly mechatronics.”
I ask her what she thinks about the Artificial Intelligence wave, but she says AI isn’t her focus right now.
“There’s already so much to learn in mechatronics alone. Eventually, I’ll explore it, but my priority is understanding how the entire IoT ecosystem works, from networking to the physical devices involved,” she said.
For now, her days follow a structured rhythm: wake up, pray, and head to work.
“Although I’d like to say I read in the mornings, I don’t,” she admitted with a smile.
If she has free time at work, she studies—not school-related material, but courses on electronics and IoT. She works on practical projects whenever possible, spends much of her time planning and organising programs at the design studio for young engineers, and then heads home around 7 or 8 PM. A quick chat with her sister, then sleep, and the cycle repeats.
Her routine is disciplined, and her vision is unwavering. One day, she won’t just be building products—she’ll be building a future where others can, too. In the short term, she is looking forward to winning the Engineering Spirit award this year.
“There might be a new winner this time. Whoever it is, I’ll give them some tough competition,” she said.
