I grew up in Cameroon. Earned two Master's degrees before I turned 25 and became a diplomat for my country. Cameroon chose me to represent the nation at the United Nations in America.
I sat in rooms with presidents, first ladies, and UN Secretary-Generals. I negotiated deals with diplomatic officials from nations around the world. I wrote policies at the United Nations for the African Union. These are rooms most people only see in movies. I was in them, representing an entire country.
From the outside, my life looked perfect. But I went home every night knowing something was deeply missing. So I did what I always do. I bet on myself again. Full scholarship. Third Master's degree. Still not it. Started a fourth program. First year in, I switched to the PhD.
I sat in PhD lectures with my daughter. My professors held her so I could present. I taught myself cloud computing while pregnant with my second child. We call her the Cloud Baby. I graduated with my PhD six weeks after having my third child.
I almost quit. More times than I've admitted. But I chose to keep going. Not because it was easy, but because I had come too far to let the hardest chapter be the last one.