Bet on Yourself

Bet on Yourself

Welcome to the Mellow Madness update, a space for thinking out loud about strategy, leadership, and the lessons business sometimes teaches us when we least expect them.

There is a peculiar thing about betting on yourself: while you are making the bet, it rarely looks impressive. People tend to encounter our decisions after they have begun to make sense. They see the qualification once it is framed, the business once it has customers, or the book once it has been printed. What they rarely see are the years when the decision looked questionable, when money was tight, when there was no applause, and when even you occasionally wondered whether the sacrifice would eventually justify itself.

My own education is a good example. For most of my professional life, the highest academic qualification I had was a National Diploma in Graphic Design from Harare Polytechnic. Everything else I knew had been accumulated through more than two decades of doing the work: starting as a graphic designer, moving through advertising and branding, building businesses, leading teams and eventually working at a global level. Experience had taught me a great deal about business, leadership and, importantly, why brand strategy should never sit somewhere on the edge of business strategy. A brand is not simply what a business says; it influences how that business competes, positions itself, creates value and grows.

I knew I could do the work. The problem was that I did not necessarily have the paperwork to say so.

That became clearer to me while I was Global Brand Director at Jibu. I remember a conversation with our Global HR colleague at the time, Queen Kaze, that made me confront something uncomfortable. Talent, experience and a strong body of work can take you far, but there are rooms you will not always be in. There will be conversations about you where you cannot explain your experience, defend your ability or demonstrate what you know. In those rooms, sometimes your paperwork has to speak for you.

That stayed with me.

I initially decided to pursue a degree. When I spoke to the team at Exeed College about the programme, however, I discovered that the degree route I was considering would require roughly the same investment of time and money. So I asked a different question: what would it take for me to go straight into an MBA?

They assessed whether my professional background and ability could handle the demands of postgraduate study. Somehow, this graphic designer from Harare Polytechnic, who had never completed a bachelor’s degree, found himself entering an MBA programme in Public Relations and Advertising with UCAM Universidad Católica San Antonio de Murcia in Spain.

I skipped the degree.

Even writing that now makes me smile.

Photo courtesy of Luke Jemwa from USA

 But getting in was only the first bet. I still had to prove that I belonged there. I went on to earn distinctions in my MBA modules and perform among the strongest students in my cohort. That remains one of the achievements I am most proud of, not simply because of the qualification itself, but because of what it represented. Years of practical experience had taught me more than I perhaps gave myself credit for. The MBA did not suddenly make me knowledgeable about business; it gave academic structure, language and validation to knowledge I had spent years acquiring in the real world.

It also came at a cost.

For almost two years, I sacrificed a significant portion of my income to pay for my studies. I had children, a household, bills and all the ordinary responsibilities of adulthood. There were periods when things were financially difficult at home because money that could have made life more comfortable was going towards my education. I was fortunate to have a supportive wife who understood what I was trying to build. When one person in a family makes a significant investment in themselves, the sacrifice is rarely theirs alone.

Looking back, I realise that I was not really paying for an MBA. I was making a bet on the future value of myself.

High-Impact PR & Advertising MBA | A Graduate’s Perspective on 

Education in Action | Exeed College

And when I look further back, I realise I have been making versions of that bet for most of my life.

There was music and my band back in the day. We created before there was any guarantee that anybody would care. You rehearse because you believe the music deserves to be heard. You invest time, energy and whatever resources you have into a possibility that exists mainly in the imagination of the people creating it. Later came businesses and partnerships with people who shared that same instinct. There is something powerful about sitting around a table with people who can see something that does not yet exist and deciding together that you are going to build it.

Some of those bets work. Others do not. Some become businesses, while others become expensive lessons. But betting on yourself does not mean believing you will win every time. It means believing that even when a particular bet fails, you remain capable of learning, adapting and making the next one better.

My book, 45 Lessons From My Father, belongs to the same philosophy. I chose to self-publish because I believed the story deserved to exist whether or not a publishing house first gave me permission. The lessons my father gave me mattered to me, and I believed they could matter to someone else. Self-publishing meant putting my own resources, reputation and effort behind that belief. It was another bet on myself, but also a bet on the value of our African stories and the wisdom we inherit from those who came before us.

When I put the band, the businesses, the MBA and the book beside each other, they look like completely different chapters of my life. One is music, another entrepreneurship, another education and another writing. But underneath them is the same question: Do I believe enough in this to invest in it before anybody else does?

We often say that nobody will believe in your dreams until you believe in them yourself. I think we need to take that idea further. Belief is not merely something you feel. Eventually, belief needs evidence. It might require your money, your evenings, your weekends, your comfort or your willingness to risk looking foolish. A dream that costs you nothing remains very easy to believe in.

This does not mean being reckless. I know personally that ambition can put pressure on a household. Children still need to eat while you chase your dreams. Bills do not disappear because you have discovered your purpose. There is a difference between courage and irresponsibility, and having people who support your ambitions creates an obligation to respect the sacrifices they are making alongside you.

But responsibility can also become a convenient excuse for never investing in who we could become. There will rarely be a perfect moment when the money, time, confidence and circumstances all align. Sometimes you have to pay today’s price for tomorrow’s version of yourself.

Today, I look at that MBA with a particular kind of pride. I started with a National Diploma in Graphic Design from Harare Polytechnic. No bachelor’s degree in between. Then, after years of building a career and learning business from the inside, I took a chance on myself and went straight into an MBA (and earned distinctions while doing it)

That journey taught me something far more valuable than anything written on the certificate.

Your starting point does not have to dictate your ceiling.

The paperwork matters. Experience matters. Education matters. But before any of them can work for you, there is something even more fundamental: the willingness to believe that you are worth investing in.

Other people can encourage you. A spouse can stand beside you. Partners can build with you. Mentors can open doors. Institutions can eventually validate what you know. But nobody else can place the first bet for you.

At some point, you have to look at the person you could become and decide whether that person is worth today’s sacrifice.

I did.

And I would bet on myself again.

My self-published book, 45 Lessons From My Father, is available on;

Thank you for reading, 

Warm regards.

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