PROFILE: TikTok Africa boss Fortune Mgwili-Sibanda on getting out of his comfort zone

Fortune Mgwili-Sibanda was born in a bush by the side of the road in a small village in Matebeleland, Zimbabwe. The story goes that his mother’s water broke on the way to hospital, and so she gave birth to him right there and then.

And just like he had forced his way out of his mother’s womb in the middle of nowhere on that day over 48 years ago, Fortune has gone on to live life on his own terms.

He now serves as the Director of Public Policy and Government Relations at TikTok for Sub-Saharan Africa, based down South. Before that, he held the same position at Google for nearly ten years.

To get here, Fortune studied one course after another, dropping each on a whim or just out of sheer boredom and moving to the next, terribly angering his parents in the process. He started with Accounting, which was his father’s dream for him. But because he was already born a rebel, he packed his bags and moved into an English Literature class, where he graduated and got a job teaching Accounting (because God also has a sense of humour) for a while before quitting.

So he went back to school, again, and pursued a degree in Journalism, finished it and worked for six months before leaving to, yet again, do something else. His parents were livid.

“I made a career change at age 35. I totally stopped working and went back to school, my parents thought I was crazy,” he says.

Fortune’s title enables him to meet the who’s who of any African country. He has held at least two meetings with Kenya’s President William Ruto in the slightly over one year he has been in office, and recently sat in Parliament to answer questions about TikTok’s policy and safety features.

Still, for a man of his stature, he remains firmly rooted to his simple beliefs, humble background, and a playfulness that comes out more often than his serious boardroom side.

When the clock on his time on earth runs out, Fortune wants to check out the same way he came in; as quickly as possible, without too much fanfare, and right where it all began.

“I want to be cremated and my ashes scattered in that very bush in the village where I was born those many years ago,” he reveals to Citizen Digital’s Ian Omondi during a sit-down at the Villa Rosa Kempinski on a cold Wednesday morning.

Your LinkedIn bio reads; “I’m all about tech, golf, chess, and road running.” People are usually either running in search of something, or away from something. What kind of runner are you?

I’m a struggling runner; which is to say I don’t run for competitions or world records. I run for me, it’s therapeutic. It’s actually strange that punishing myself for four hours at a time makes me feel rested and relaxed.

Where I come from, you cannot consider yourself a serious runner if you haven’t run the Comrades Marathon; that’s the ultimate human race, it’s 90 kilometres. And I’m glad to say that I’ve been there and done that, twice.

Running is relaxing; it clears your mind about work and so many other things. That’s why I love running.

Are your glasses medically prescribed or do you just find that people take you more seriously with them on?

I’m blind as a bat; if you took these off now I would be fumbling in the dark. So mine is a disability. [Chuckles] I wear them so that I can see. Even when I’m running or out playing golf, I’ve got specific ones that I wear. I’ve tried contact lenses but they don’t work for me, I don’t like touching my eyes.

What is the most striking thing you remember about your childhood?

I was brought up by my grandmother, and was my grandfather’s favourite. Strangely, he always used to tell people that ‘He’s going to go far.’

I used to have two pigs that my grandfather gave me, I even had names for them. One strange day, these guys from town came and bought one of the pigs. I was inconsolable, I cried a lot. But then one of the guys had Vienna sausages in his car, and he gave me one and said “We’re going to use your pig to make this.”

When I ate that Vienna sausage, it was so tasty that I offered them my second pig. I said, “Please, take this one too, in exchange for a whole packet of those sausages.”

How did that village boy end up here?

When I get opportunities to talk to young adults trying to shape their careers and grow, the one thing I always emphasize to them is that there is no clear path. And there is no one path, my life is a testament to that. I’ve done literally everything; a bit of this and that and at the end of the day, it all comes together.

At one point in high school I was doing Accounting and Mathematics, my father wanted me to be an Accountant, and I was passing (the exams), but then I dropped it and started doing English Literature because it was cool.

When I finished my degree, reality hit that I needed to work, and there were not many jobs [to do] with an English Literature degree, so I ended up teaching. But, funny enough, do you know what I was teaching? Accounting. [Laughs]

Later on, I decided it wasn’t working for me and went to do journalism, finished and practiced for about six months and decided it also wasn’t working for me, and went into the tech space because it was the cool thing that was coming up at the time.

The point I’m making is that no time is wasted if you invest in yourself, because even that time that I studied all those other things is coming back to be useful in my job right now.

How old are you right now?

[Laughs] Ian, you’re being clever, but I’m going to pitch this back to you and say take a guess...

Between 35 to 40...

You don’t look like it.

At what stage did you feel like you were most conflicted or confused about life?

Life is always confusing, even upto now. I don’t think there can ever be a time when you can say you’ve figured out this thing. And this is important, especially, for the youth, because they seem to grow up in a world where there’s so much pressure; they feel like ‘this person has already made it...’ so they also feel pressurized to seem like they’ve already figured it out.

I’m about to turn 49 soon, and head towards 50, but I’m still figuring out things. So it’s very important to pace yourself, deal with it as it comes, because challenges are new every day.

And, also, get out of the comfort zone. Before I started running, I used to go to the gym. I know it doesn’t look like it now, but I used to go to the gym and run on the treadmill for 20 minutes, and come out of there feeling so energised and proud of myself and reward myself with a big burger. Then some guy came to me and said ‘why are you always running on the treadmill? You seem to be enjoying it, why don’t you go out on the road?’

So I started, and I did 5 kilometres, then I said why not 10 kilometres? Why not 15 kilometres? Why not 21 kilometres? Until I ended up doing the Comrades Marathon (90 kilometres).

So start a new hobby; get out of your comfort zone completely. That can help you even deal with some of your every day conflicts and fill your life with goals that you need to accomplish as you go.

I’m turning 30 next year, and I’m scared that maybe I’m not where I would’ve wanted. What scares you about turning 50?

It doesn’t scare me; I embrace it, I love it. I don’t want to say I feel like I could’ve done more, because then self-doubt starts creeping in and you start feeling a sense of no fulfilment. I’m happy about where I am, because I’m looking at where I started and where I am [now]; so I need to be grateful for that.

And about you turning 30 and feeling scared, that’s Okay too, because that’s when you challenge yourself. Don’t be too comfortable. Secondly, I made a career change at 35. I totally stopped working and went back to school, my parents thought I was crazy.

So don’t feel pressurized that you’re supposed to be somewhere and you’re not. It’s healthy to challenge yourself like that and be aware that you need to do a bit more, but don’t be too scared to start new things. You can start anytime, as long as you put your mind to it.

At 48, is there a Mrs. Sibanda somewhere, maybe with a few cubs running around?

I’m joking; Yes, of course. And two proud kids; a boy and a girl. Everyone who works with me knows how much I love my kids; I live for them. I think they’re actually the ones that motivate me.

You asked about being scared, that is where I get scared; that if I don’t get my stuff sorted out now, what’s going to happen to them? I fully understand that I’m on my way out, and they’re just coming in, so it’s all about them now.

And you’re raising them in a digital age...

Yeah, and it’s very exciting what you’re bringing up, [because] we always have this conversation with parents.

For example, [my son] has a tablet, but there are rules about how he uses it. Like now, back home [in South Africa] it’s still a school term, they’re just about to go on holiday, so now he’s excited like ‘I can’t wait to use my tablet.’ That means he already knows that he can only access it during the holidays, not on a school term.

And even during the holidays, we set screen limits for him. I can see how much time he’s spending on it from my phone and shut it off after an hour or two. So they’re being raised in a digital age but, as parents, you have to play a role; monitor and make sure that they’re using it in the right way, so that they get an opportunity to also play outside and actually be kids.

When he’s using the tablet, do you have access to whatever he’s doing on it?

Absolutely. Even if he wants to download a game, he has a conversation with either myself or the mother. If we say Okay, for him to download, it still has to pass through my phone. So I go through it and look at the reviews and the age rating first.

Even just the television, we have to be conscious of what we watch when they [children] are around. At times we can’t even watch the news because something that’s not age appropriate can be said.

He [son] loves watching football with me, and I forced him to love Arsenal as well; he had no choice in that matter. So one day, during half-time, an advert for wrestling comes on and he’s the one that actually screamed at me. He said, ‘Dad what do you think you’re doing? Do you see what’s on the screen? People are fighting.’

How did the way you were brought up influence how you’re bringing up your children?

I was brought up in a tough environment, typical African family, where the father is very tough. So I made a conscious decision that I was not going to be the tough father, I would be the cool one.

But looking back, we used to think that they [parents] were tough, but it was for a reason; they were doing it to protect us.

I’d like to think that I’m tough to my kids right now, but in a different way. I’m more collaborative with them, consultative even. But the end goal is the same, that you’re empowering and equipping them to be able to deal with the real world out there.

Your job allows you to travel quite a bit, and interact with a lot of people; from both ordinary folks to Heads of State. What have your travels taught you about human beings, in general?

This may sound contradictory, but I think human beings are the same, and I also think human beings are different.

The most exciting part of travels, for me, is the interactions. You walk into a room, and you’re already having a conversation with someone that you don’t even know where they come from. It’s fascinating and you see the similarities of the youth here in Kenya, and the aspirations of the youth back home – and yet also the differences.

Not to mention the food; I always make it a point that wherever I go, I eat the food that the people there eat. Here I’ve been eating Ugali and nyama choma; but I think our nyama choma is better than the one here in Kenya.

I also enjoy managu, sukuma wiki, mukimo. But my favourite dish is tilapia; I’ve got this capability to pick it clean and leave only the bones. I do justice to the fish.

The Luo in me is proud of you.

I don’t know if you’re a religious person, but do you think you’re a good person?

Religious? Not so much in a specific religion, but I believe in the presence of a Supreme Being; whether you call it God or Mwari (God in Shona) or Nkulunkulu (‘Supreme Being’ in Zulu) or Allah.

What does success mean for you?

I don’t think there is overall success; you have to address all pockets of your life as a human being. You need success in your career; you need success in education; you need success in well-being and spirituality.

Success in all those components come together and then you can say, ‘Alright, I’m happy with where this is going.’

Do you think of yourself as a successful person?

If life was a series of colours of the rainbow, what colour describes the stage you are in life right now?

It’s going to sound cheesy, but Green. Being an African and also a struggling farmer, I think green symbolizes vitality and life.

Where I grew up, in Matabeleland in Zimbabwe, it’s semi-arid, so you don’t get as much rain as you would here in Nairobi. So, in the Winter, you would have like five-six months of dry brown, even the trees die.

The green that sprouts immediately [after the Winter], is what everyone in the village would look up to.  Green symbolized wealth; success; life, that we were going to survive for another year. So I guess I took it from there.

Your title makes you sound so serious, which you are, but I’ve read that every man has a child in him. When does the child in you come out to play?

When does the serious in me come out? That is what you should’ve asked me.

I think the child in me is the one that’s the dominant character. At times even my colleagues would be like, ‘Please, be serious.’ I take it from my father.

How would you like to be remembered?

I take these things very lightly, in the sense that we’re here for a short period of time, and when it ends we should just move on.

I don’t want to be morbid and stuff, but I don’t even want to be buried in a grave, I want to be cremated so that I’m out, to make space for other people; because your part is done.