Last night I was sharing testimonies with my cell group from church, and I kept getting the same reactions.
“Wow.”
“No way.”
“Are you serious?”
I get these a lot. And I understand why.
There’s the story of a stranger who paid R95 000 for my university fees in 2019 – someone who, to this day, wants to remain anonymous.
There’s the IT job I got without an IT or Computer Science degree, where the interviewer told me he chose me because “there was just something about you the other candidates didn’t have… it’s hard to explain but one can feel it.”
There’s the radio interview I got on the same day I published my book.
The SABC invite four days later.
The airport deal three weeks after that.
I have many stories like these and if I’m honest they could fill an essay of their own. I don’t love sharing them because people either think I’m bragging or assume I’m some kind of genius.
I’m not.
I genuinely don’t consider myself a smart guy, and I’m not even trying to be humble when I say that.
What I am is someone who doesn’t mind looking foolish in the pursuit of what I want.
And very few people do that.
I unapologetically believe in God and believe most of these opportunities came in large part from his favour on my life. But I also feel like there’s a small-nyana part we play… a slight formula that increases your luck surface area in this game of life.
It doesn’t always work. I still get plenty of rejections. But it tends to yield results far more often than doing nothing and hoping.
Here’s what I’ve come to learn.
Build your credibility before you need it
People need a reason to take you seriously.
There are so many things competing for attention in anyone’s day. If you want someone to pause and give you their time, you need to give them a reason to care. And that reason has to be real, drawn from actual experience, connected to why they should take a bet on you.
For example, I’ve always wanted to study at UCT. I mean who wouldn’t? It’s the best university on the continent.
After finishing my undergrad I thought, why not try? I won’t pretend I was certain they’d accept me. But they did.
Then came the funding problem. Fees close to R100k for one year.
DAMN. UCT doesn’t play.
Eish. So what do we do now?
I found a bursary online from an organisation called YPO. They wanted someone with leadership qualities. I had no plan B… it was this bursary or UCT was never happening.
I wrote a long motivational letter drawing from everything: being a prefect at school, leadership roles in my choir days, what leadership means to someone raised in a village. Not a performance. Real experience, framed honestly, linked to my authentic self.
From over a thousand applicants, I was the only one chosen.
I graduated from UCT without owing a single cent.
The credibility I’d built – even from small things – gave someone a reason to bet on me.
Reach out. Don’t wait to be found.
And don’t let pride get in the way. People have no reason to take you seriously yet – they don’t know you.
Relax.
You don’t want to look desperate? Well, technically you are. You need the opportunity. Own that, then walk in anyway.
A few years later I wanted to write for a bigger audience. There was a fintech company called Franc whose writing had this youthful energy that appealed to me. I sent them an email telling them I loved their work but felt there was a nuance missing… an angle I could bring. I attached something I’d written.
They said yes. I’ve been writing for them since.
I didn’t ask for a favour. I presented it as a win-win.
This matters more than most people realise. Whenever you approach someone, you need to answer one question first: what’s in it for them?
If you can’t answer that clearly, you’re not ready for the opportunity you think you’re ready for.
Don’t approach it as them doing you a favour. Approach it as a partnership: how can we both win?
Frame your argument so that the answer to “why should I care?” is stupidly obvious.
It must be clear why they need to partner with you, not help you win… that reframe is everything.
I used the same approach at the airport.
I was walking through Cape Town International after a trip to Joburg, looking at the bookstores, wondering what it would take to get my book in there without a publisher or connections. I just picked up my phone and called them.
They tried to dismiss me… who are you, calling the airport like you’re some big shot?
They didn’t say it like that, just to be clear, but the undertone was so obvious.
But I said hold my beer. I told them about the radio interview, the SABC invite, my first print run selling out… all for a book that was three weeks old. Then I told them exactly why partnering with me would add value to them.
They asked how soon I could bring the books.
I said tomorrow.
The following day I was there. We shook hands.
My books are now sold at the airport.
You’d be surprised how many people will take a chance on you – if you actually ask.
Frame everything as a win-win
The thread through all of these stories is the same thing: I never approached any opportunity as me asking for a handout. I approached each one as a case for why the other person or organisation would benefit from saying yes.
This isn’t manipulation… it’s just clarity.
Most people approach opportunities thinking about what they want. The shift is to think first about what the other person needs, and then show them how you provide it.
And that includes making sure the deal works for you too. Don’t let the hunger for an opportunity lead you to clasp the short end of the stick. If the deal doesn’t feel fair to you, walk away. Desperation is a bad negotiator and no opportunity is worth getting screwed over.
I’d be a fool to deny divine intervention in any of this. But I’d also be dishonest if I pretended there was no pattern.
Build real credibility.
Reach out… don’t wait.
Frame every opportunity as a partnership, not a favour.
And above all: don’t mind looking foolish.
Most people are too proud or too afraid to try the things that could change their lives. They protect their dignity so carefully that they never find out what was waiting on the other side of a phone call, an email or a long shot application.
I used to feel exactly like that for years. But I eventually realised that no amount of dignity and shyness was going to get me the opportunities I wanted. So I might as well temporarily look like a clown… with whatever credibility I’d built, a clear case for mutual benefit and a willingness to hear no.
The formula doesn’t guarantee anything.
But it beats waiting.
© Phumzile