(Why Poverty Was My First Business Mentor)
When I was young, I was painfully introverted. You know those quiet boys who greet teachers like they’re saluting the President? That was me.
I went to some of the top schools Marist Brothers Nyanga and Hartzell High but I always felt out of place. The “who’s who” of Zimbabwe were there: The Vice President’s kid, the MP’s kid, the business tycoon’s son… and then me the “vendor’s kid” whose trunk couldn’t even lock because there was nothing inside!
Other boys had three trunks:
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One full of tinned beef
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Another full of beans and rice
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The last one? Packed with Cerevita, peanut butter, and all the things angels eat.
Me? I had hope. And maybe one packet of maputi for emergencies.
Every morning at breakfast, I’d see some boys mixing peanut butter in their porridge like they were making adverts for Olivine. I’d just stare and whisper to God, “One day, Baba.”
At Hartzell, I became one of the best basketball players, but guess what? No sneakers! I used to borrow from a Form 2 kid. I’ve even forgotten his name, but wherever you are, may God bless you abundantly you’re part of the reason I could dunk on rich kids.
Back then, poverty stole my confidence. I had brains, but my spirit was shy. I would never raise my hand in public speaking. When your shoes have holes, even confidence hides.
But here’s the funny part the same God who closed the door to comfort opened the gate to the streets.
After finishing A-Level, I became a street vendor in Budiriro and Glen View. And let me tell you the streets are not for the weak!
If school gives you certificates, the streets give you survival.
If school teaches you to spell “entrepreneur,” the streets teach you to be one.
On the streets, I learned:
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How to sell airtime and dreams at the same time.
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How to negotiate with police officers like a diplomat.
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How to make friends fast because in vending, your network is your net worth.
I became popular. Even the bus drivers knew me. I used to pray and cry every night, not knowing that God had enrolled me in The University of Life where the lectures are loud, and the assignments are survival.
One of my angels during that time was Sisi Chido. She would buy airtime for $5 or $10 and sometimes say, “Send first, I’ll pay later.” (I had no choice but to trust her she had an office and a handbag!)
One day she asked, “Young man, you sound educated. What did you study?” I told her proudly, “I had 11 subjects at O-Level no C, no D.” She was shocked. The next week, she told me there was a job opening at AFA Fire Engineers.
I applied. I got the job. And for the first time in years I wore a suit.
That was the turning point.
The streets built the salesman in me. They taught me confidence, resilience, and the art of approaching strangers without fear.
They taught me how to smile when broke, negotiate when cornered, and sell when nobody’s buying.
Without the streets, there would never have been Jerry the Salesman, The Chartered Vendor, or M&J Africa.
So today, when I look back, I don’t curse poverty I thank it. Because poverty sent me to the best school in the world The School of Hustlers and Hard Knocks.
To all my young brothers and sisters out there: Don’t be ashamed of humble beginnings. You may be broke today, but you’re in training. God might just be teaching you how to sell yourself, your ideas, and your destiny.
One day, you’ll look back and laugh like me because the same streets that embarrassed you… will become the foundation of your success story
Your background doesn’t define your limits your mindset does. If you’re ready to turn your story into success, let’s connect and build together. Call or WhatsApp us today: +263 77 961 9739 (Zimbabwe)or **+**260 972 936033 (Zambia) your breakthrough starts with one conversation.
By The Chartered Vendor
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