When I first shared my mentorship journey, I was learning to see myself as a future leader rather than simply a student preparing for one day. That shift laid the foundation. The next stage was learning to trust my own voice.
Over six more sessions in the Impact Leaders Mentorship Programme with Ms. Margaret, I realised that the biggest change was not what I produced. It was how I began presenting what I already knew.
One of the strongest outputs from this phase was a position paper examining why the role of United Nations Secretary-General has never been held by a woman, using feminist perspectives to explore the relationship between gender, power, and leadership in global institutions. Alongside that, I developed reflective diary entries from my semester abroad in Austria, refined my elevator pitch, and wrote a professional area-of-interest statement.
What emerged through the guidance of Ms. Margaret surprised me. My writing became more analytical, more personal, and more intentional. For the first time, I looked at my work and saw something that felt publishable rather than simply assessable. These were no longer practice pieces. They felt like the beginning of my professional voice.
The most significant change, however, happened in how I thought about myself. During the early sessions, I noticed a habit I had never questioned. Almost every time I spoke, I softened my ideas before expressing them. I would say, “I’m still developing,” or, “I’m not sure, but...” as though I needed permission before offering an opinion. As the mentorship progressed, I began catching myself before reaching for those disclaimers. Being early in my career is simply a stage of professional development and I finally appreciated that it is not evidence that my ideas are less valuable.
One moment shifted something permanently. While working on my elevator pitch, Ms. Margaret pointed out that I had written my results almost entirely in the conditional tense. Instead of stating what my work contributed, I wrote that it could contribute or might support broader conversations. She asked me a simple question: “What happens if you state your contribution as fact?” That single piece of feedback changed how I write. Replacing conditional language with clear, declarative statements felt like a small editorial change but it was not. It fundamentally changed how I understood my own voice.
The Ikigai framework became much more than an exercise in self-reflection. Rather than focusing on abstract purpose, it helped identify where my language, positioning, and outputs were misaligned with the work I was actually producing. Every session built on that insight, responding to real work rather than following a fixed agenda.
Looking ahead, I have a clear goal. Before the end of 2026, I want to submit my position paper on female representation in the UN Secretary-General role to at least two professional publications. More importantly, I want to develop the habit of writing with publication in mind rather than writing only for assessment. This mentorship helped me understand the difference.
A student writes to complete an assignment. A professional writes to contribute to a field. That shift has changed how I introduce myself, how I write, and how I think about what comes next.
About the author
Ms. Lujam Okello is a Politics and International Relations student in the UK, with a strong passion for leadership, gender equality, and global affairs. Her academic interests include global governance, public policy, and women’s representation in leadership. Through research, writing, and mentorship, she is building the knowledge and skills to contribute to evidence-based policymaking and drive meaningful social impact as a future leader.