In a recent conversation on When Shift Happens with Saray Khumalo, I was asked a question that has stayed with me long after the microphones were switched off:
Is resilience something we are born with, or something we learn along the way?
It’s a compelling question – especially in a South African context, where inequality is not an abstract concept but a lived reality for millions. But for me, the answer is shaped less by theory and more by experience.
Resilience is not a gift. It is a discipline – forged in the fire of adversity.
That understanding comes from one of the most formative periods of my life: my experience of homelessness. It was a time that stripped everything back to the essentials. Not just materially, but psychologically. It forced me to confront what it means to endure, to adapt, and ultimately, to rebuild.
But more than anything, it reshaped how I see people.
It taught me something simple, yet deeply profound: everyone matters.
Not because of what they have achieved. Not because of the titles they hold, the mountains they have climbed, or the institutions they are affiliated with. Those things may shape how the world sees us, but they do not define our worth.
You matter because you are human. Full stop.
That perspective has fundamentally influenced how I think about leadership.
Too often, leadership is framed around performance, outputs and outcomes. And while those things are important, they are not where leadership begins. Leadership begins with how we see people.
When people feel unseen, unheard or undervalued, their contribution diminishes. Not because they lack capability, but because the environment does not invite their full participation. On the other hand, when people feel that they matter – genuinely and not performatively – something shifts.
They begin to see their own value.
They engage more deeply.
They contribute more meaningfully.
And in that shift, something powerful happens. Not just within organisations, but within the broader economy and society. Because the more people believe they have something to offer, the more they offer.
In a country like South Africa, that is not a small shift. It is a necessary one.
Resilience, then, is not only about enduring hardship. It is about what that hardship teaches us – about ourselves, about others, and about the kind of leaders we choose to be because of it.
If my journey has taught me anything, it is this: leadership is less about elevating ourselves, and more about recognising the inherent dignity in others.
And when we do that consistently, deliberately, and with conviction – that is when the real work of leadership begins.
If these ideas resonate with you, I’d encourage you to listen to the full conversation here:
