I’ve always believed in the idea of picking yourself: spotting opportunities, taking chances, and trying your hands on different things. So far, that mindset has worked out well for me. Over the years, I’ve won competitions, earned opportunities, found myself in rooms I never imagined being in, and visited countries I didn’t think I’d see anytime soon. Most importantly, I’ve grown, learned, and expanded my network — all by simply saying yes to opportunities.
So, here’s a list of the opportunities I’ve taken, the ones I’ve won, and how they’ve shaped me.
The Google Student Ambassador Story (2014)
During the summer of 2014, I ran into a friend at an event, and he casually mentioned that Google had a Student Ambassadorship Program.
“Are you interested in trying out for it?” he asked.
He was studying Information Systems, while I was an Accounting student — so I immediately wondered how it applied to me. I’m not in computer science, I thought. But he encouraged me anyway: “They’re not fixated on your course. As long as you’re a student, you can apply.”
He went on to share how the program had broadened his perspective and connected him with students across Africa. That was all the convincing I needed. I decided to give it a shot, even though the deadline was just a day or two away.
Right there at the event, he helped me record a short video on my phone for the application. I went home, edited it using iMovie — adding a playful intro with a Google Search animation, transitions, and title tags — then submitted my application with my fingers crossed.
A few weeks later, I received an email saying I’d been selected. I couldn’t believe it.
It wasn’t until the orientation session in Accra, Ghana, that I understood why I stood out. One of the program leads mentioned that my application video caught their attention — it was creative, well-edited, and different. That was a powerful lesson for me: sometimes, just putting in a little extra effort and creativity can open doors.
Being part of the Google Student Ambassador (GSA) program was a mind-shifting experience. I met incredible people from across Africa and got exposed to tools like Google Docs, Sheets, Drive, and even Google Ads — things I barely much about or that they existed before. I organized events on campus, learned to mobilize people and resources, and discovered a sense of initiative I didn’t know I had.
Looking back, that experience taught me one of my earliest and most valuable lessons: opportunities don’t always come to the “most prepared” — sometimes, they come to those willing to try, even at the last minute.
Running for Office: NUASA President
Earlier in 2014, before the Google opportunity came along, I was invited to join the election committee of my university’s national accounting students’ association. Our job was simple: organize the elections for new executives: president, vice president, treasurer, PRO, and so on.
At first, I saw it as just another volunteer opportunity. But first one of our main task was to encourage people to run for office. That turned out to be harder than expected. Most students came to school to study, not to get involved in politics. Many were hesitant — worried about grades, time, or just uninterested.
I kept persuading people, trying to get more candidates so the election would feel competitive and exciting. But soon, a few people started asking me the same question:
“Why don’t you run?”
At first, I laughed it off. I was on the organising team, I wasn’t supposed to be the one running. But after a while, the idea grew on me. My friend Victor had already declared his intention to run, and I thought, why not?
So, just a week or two before the election, I announced my candidacy. I spent the next few days campaigning — visiting students in 100 level, 200 level, 300 level — sharing my ideas and listening to what people wanted.
It was a tough race. Many people were torn between me and Victor, who was equally popular. I decided to run a clean campaign. I didn’t say anything negative about him; I simply told people what I hoped to do differently and let them decide.
When the votes were counted, I won.
By just two votes. Two votes!
Becoming president turned out to be one of the most challenging roles I’d ever taken. The pressure was immense. Some executives had only run for the title, not the responsibility. Balancing leadership, academics, and my final-year project was tough. But it stretched me.
I learned what it meant to lead, to make decisions that wouldn’t please everyone, and to see things through even when it’s not glamorous. I may not have achieved everything I wished, but I gave it my best.
That experience taught me that sometimes, while urging others to step up, you realize you are being called to do the same.
Drucker Challenge 2018/2019
In 2018, a conversation with my friend Chiaka changed the way I thought about opportunities.
She said something simple but powerful:
“This year, I’m just going to take opportunities.”
It stuck with me. I decided to do the same.
At the time, I was working as an accountant, but I had always enjoyed writing. There weren’t many competitions for accountants, but there were plenty for writers. So I started looking for something I could try my hands on.
That’s how I found the Global Peter Drucker Challenge, an international essay competition in honour of one of the fathers of modern management, Peter Drucker. The theme that year was something along the lines of “Staying Human in a Robotic Society.”
I had never read Drucker before, and to be honest, when I did, I found his work… a bit boring. But I decided to take a stab at it anyway. Every evening, after work, I wrote, researched, and refined my essay — with some helpful editing and accountability from my friend Bolu. On some days all I did was write a sentence.
When I finally submitted, I thought, well, at least I tried.
Months passed, and I heard nothing. Then one day, an email popped up:
“Congratulations! You’re among the top 10 winners of the 2018 Global Peter Drucker Challenge.”
I was stunned. I hadn’t expected it. The top 10 winners were invited to the Global Drucker Forum in Vienna, Austria — an all-expenses-paid trip to one of the most prestigious management gatherings in the world.
I was secretly hoping to place in the top three for the cash prize. I didn’t make it, but the experience itself turned out to be worth far more. Sitting among world-class thinkers and professionals, I realized something profound: a global panel, made up of people who didn’t know me, had read my work and thought it was good enough. That validation was a massive jolt of self-belief.
I came back inspired and the following year, I decided to try again. This time, the fear was different: what if I don’t make it again? What if the first one was just luck? But I reminded myself that the goal was to enjoy the process, to write something I genuinely liked.
A few months later, another email arrived:
“Congratulations! You’re among the top 10 winners…”
Twice in a row. That was when I knew the first one wasn’t a fluke.
Beyond the recognition and travel, the Drucker Challenge taught me something deeper about human behaviour: most people don’t fail because they’re not good enough; they fail because they never try. I saw it firsthand; many of the people I encouraged to apply never sent in their essays.
Sometimes, all it takes to stand out is simply showing up and hitting “submit.”
D4D Journalism Competition & One Pipe Essay Challenge
The next two years after the Drucker Challenge were relatively calm until 2022, when things picked up again.
By then, I had joined TechCabal as a journalist, which meant more writing opportunities were now open to me. Two, in particular, stood out that year.
The first was the African Union — European Union (AU-EU) Digital for Development (D4D) Hub Writing Competition, which focused on the impact of digital technologies on people’s lives across the African continent. Participants had to choose a thematic area, and I chose employment.
My approach to writing competitions had become structured by this point. I’d usually ask myself: Do I already have an article that fits this? If not, can I write one from scratch?
In this case, I didn’t. So I wrote a fresh piece exploring how different African companies were tackling the continent’s talent and employment challenges. My argument was that there wasn’t one single solution; instead, multiple innovative models were attacking the problem from different angles.
A few weeks later, I got an email:
“Congratulations! You’re among the top three winners.”
I came out being first, out of submissions from 175 journalists from 36 countries.
That came with an invitation to attend the European Development Days in Brussels, Belgium, an experience that was eye-opening in every sense. Meeting professionals and thinkers from across continents reminded me again of how far curiosity and effort can take you.
Around that same period, I also participated in the OnePipe Embedded Finance Writing Competition — an initiative designed to raise awareness about embedded finance in Nigeria. The brief was simple: write a 500-word piece explaining or imagining its impact.
I decided to do something different. Instead of a straightforward explanation, I wrote a futuristic essay — imagining a world where embedded finance had completely transformed everyday life. It was a creative risk, but it paid off.
A few weeks later, another congratulatory email landed in my inbox. I was one of the three winners. And this one came with a ₦1 million prize.
That win wasn’t just about the money. It reaffirmed something I’d come to believe over the years: that I have the ability to write stories that stand out. Whether it’s an idea-driven essay or a creative take on a technical topic, I could hold my own.
Those 2022 wins were proof that I wasn’t just lucky, I was growing into my craft.
The St. Gallen Symposium
I first heard about the St. Gallen Symposium around 2018 or 2019 through one of my Drucker Challenge alumni groups. It looked like an incredible opportunity — an essay competition that brought together students and young leaders from around the world to discuss pressing global issues.
But there was a catch: you had to be a current undergraduate or postgraduate student to apply. At the time, I wasn’t in school. I told myself, “If I ever get back to school, I’ll try this out.”
Fast forward to 2023, when I began my MBA at the University of East London, and that thought came back to me. I checked the St. Gallen website, found the year’s theme “Scarcity” and decided to give it a shot.
I chose to write about food. The question I tackled was: “Do we need more or less food in the world?”
Most people would instinctively say more, but I decided to take the counterargument: less.
My reasoning was simple but data-backed: we already produce enough food globally; the problem is that so much of it is wasted. If we reduced waste and improved distribution, we could feed everyone without producing more. I built my essay around that insight, layered it with evidence, and submitted — then waited.
Weeks passed. The deadline for announcing winners came and went, and I assumed I hadn’t made it. Then, unexpectedly, the email arrived:
“Congratulations, you’re among the top 15 finalists.”
I was thrilled. It wasn’t just about the recognition; it was validation that across different years, different judges, and different themes, my work could still stand out.
I got to attend the St. Gallen Symposium in Switzerland in May 2024 and it was a great experience.
Looking back, not every opportunity I’ve taken has worked out.
There have been rejections — quiet ones, forgotten ones — but the pattern is clear: every time I try, I grow.
And every time I submit, I remind myself not to overthink the outcome.
Because sometimes, all you really need to do is take the shot and wait for the email.
