Of all the ‘Challenge Anneka’ projects, this is the one I will never forget

When we travelled to Romania to build an orphanage 30 years ago, none of us could have been

prepared for what we witnessed, writes Anneka Rice

Anneka and Monica McDaid in a therapy room at the orphanage

uring lockdown we’ve been turning in on ourselves. It’s been

quite the thing in TV-land to take a nostalgic look at past shows

to see what happened to the roof extension/puppy/long-lost

child/elephant in the 10 years since. There are always lots of old

clips: granny wheeled out to say how the terrace has changed her life, how

the hedge has grown four inches, how the water feature went wrong but is

now working again. Everyone loves these programmes.

So I’m amazed the BBC hasn’t claimed the Challenge Anneka legacy for its

own and heralded it from the rooftops. We’ve had the 10th anniversary, the

25th, and now it’s the 30th. Talk about fulfilling all of the BBC’s remits in

one fell swoop. Inform! Educate! Entertain! It’s an orgasm of ticks.

We built a suspension bridge once, which linked two communities in

Cornwall. We renovated a soup kitchen at St Martin’s-in-the-Fields. At the

time, the vicar said, “We’ve seen a kind of miracle here this week.” Thirty

years on, that smoky, cosy soup kitchen has evolved into The Connection,

a state-of-the-art centre for the homeless. We built a fishing facility and

bungalows for wheelchair users. Volunteers still nobly work on these

projects and none more so than those involved with the Romania

challenge.

Monica McDaid, a schoolteacher in Solihull, innocently wrote to us 30

years ago challenging us to renovate an orphanage in Siret. In 1990,

everyone was talking about Romania. The country had recently opened up

after the execution of Nicolae Ceausescu and rumours were coming out

about a humanitarian crisis. Brits were hiring vans, taking out blankets and

clothes and returning with horrific stories of neglected children.

How Ceausescu’s lost souls were given a new start in life

A Day That Shook The World: Ceausescu overthrown

Our orphanage housed 600 children with shaved heads, ages and sex

indeterminable, many sexually and physically abused. Babies and toddlers

were tied up two or three to a cot, lying in their own faeces. They lay

rocking in the dark, in the basement. Ceausescu’s edict for women to

produce as many children as possible for his super race had resulted in

thousands of unwanted pregnancies.

We took out a plane stuffed with building materials, nappies, cots, doctors,

nurses, roofers, electricians and plumbers. It was extraordinary what

happened over the next 10 days, as we tried to install lighting, and

plumbing – there weren’t loos or showers. Men cried openly; none of us

were aid workers and we were out of our depths.

We returned home shell-shocked. What would happen now? Much of my

time had been spent negotiating with officials to let us carry on with the

work. I felt racked with guilt as I headed home to my own small children.

Our saviour was Monica. She offered to stay on with some of the

volunteers. Little did she know then what an impact this decision was to

have on her life. She never left. Money poured in. The volunteers kept

coming. Doctors went back to perform operations on cleft palates,

occupational therapists turned up out of the blue. Our builders started

work. The Romanian Challenge Appeal, set up after the programme, raised

over £2m.

Before lockdown my biggest worry was where my waxwork head had gone

Coronavirus is an opportunity to rebuild a more sustainable Britain

In 2000, the orphanages were disbanded as Romania tried to join the EU.

Children were dispersed, most to live just as grimly in other institutions.

Monica’s children were lucky. The charity rescued dozens of children and

built seven halfway houses. Volunteers like Sean McMenamin and Rudy

Parkes from the West Midlands fire service still finance themselves year

after year to come out to help. As have dozens of you. But it is Monica who

is the true heroine. She turned her initial fear into a super power. She has

been recognised in Romania at the highest level.

When I was last there, two of the orphans, Viorel and Mariana, had got

married. Viorel was six on that original challenge. He is now 36 and works

in the local wood factory with Mariana. He says he doesn’t look back.

I mention Romania as it’s the project that most people remember. But

there are dozens of others. One of my favourite UK projects was the

Wormwood Scrubs Pony School, which helps disabled children learn to

ride, where we built a huge indoor stadium. The Challenge had everything

– a feisty horse-riding nun in charge, prisoners from Wormwood Scrubs

who came to help and who had a fine couple of days collecting stashed

drugs from behind the hay bales. When I picked them up from prison in

my buggy, I shouted over the engine, “What are you in for?” “Murder,”

came the reply from the back seat. Sister Mary Joy kept in touch with those

prisoners for years. What a thing.

Challenge Anneka had it all. Tragedy, drama, jeopardy, fun. It was such a

heady combination that Hollywood came calling. They wanted to make a

film about me and the Romania Challenge. In the end, despite trips to LA, I

couldn’t stomach being made into a Hollywood heroine. The heroes are

Monica, Sister Mary Joy, and the hundreds of others. I salute you all.

‘Help! My Head's in Wookey Hole’ goes out on Radio 4 on Tuesday 15

December at 6.30pm