How I Got My First Job (The Full Story)

After high school, I had one goal: to go to college. But finances at home were tight, and university felt like a distant dream. Still, I had a plan—I was going to find a job, save up, and take myself to school. That goal became my north star.

My first job was at a laundromat. It was humbling in every way. We handled everything—soiled clothes, stained uniforms, and undergarments—from customers who often treated us like we were beneath them. We stood for long hours, worked with bare hands, no gloves, no masks, and no breaks.

To make it worse, the owner’s wife didn’t hide her discomfort with me. Her quiet jealousy eventually pushed me out.
That job didn’t last long. But it taught me early on that sometimes, the conditions will be harsh, the people won’t be kind, and the work won’t be pretty. Still, if you’re doing it for something bigger than the moment you’re in, you keep moving. And so I did.

I got another job as a cleaner in a small motel. It wasn’t glamorous—not even close. The kind of place where sheets were stained in ways you don't want to know, and bathrooms told stories you wished you hadn’t witnessed. My mornings started with the smell of bleach and ended with piles of laundry, forgotten belongings, and sometimes… things that should never be left behind.

There were days I cleaned rooms that had clearly been the scene of more than just an overnight stay—broken glass, leftover alcohol, and a whole load of horrible things. Some guests were kind. Others acted like I was invisible. But I kept going. I worked with no protective gear such as hand gloves. But I showed up every single day, because every shilling I earned was fueling my dream. I wasn’t just straightening beds and scrubbing floors—I was building something. I was working toward college. That job reminded me that no work is too low when your purpose is high.

Then life surprised me.

A family friend who had been living in the U.S. came back home. When he heard I was working in a motel, he offered to pay my college fees—no promises, no strings, just grace. And just like that, the stars aligned. I went to college.

Let me tell you about college. I was the fastest typist in the class, even faster than my teacher. I had chosen to study a secretarial course because I believed it would get me into the job market more quickly. Unfortunately, the timing was off. Computers had begun to take over, and most bosses no longer needed someone to type their letters for them. Story for another Saturday, I guess.

For those who have seen me type, they know I’m very fast, typing between 140 - 160 words per minute. What most don’t know is that I taught myself how to type before I ever stepped into a college classroom. But again, that’s a story for another Saturday. Anyway, two years later, I graduated—hopeful, qualified, and ready to take on the job market. But despite the certificates and all the optimism I carried, nothing came through. I job searched—what we used to call tarmacking—for two years without luck. I even struggled to find a place to volunteer.
 

Around the same time, my mum had started a small food kiosk as a side hustle, but she was struggling to find reliable help. So I went where I was needed—her kiosk. It wasn’t what I had envisioned after graduating, but if I was going to be there, I would bring my best. I served every customer like I was working in a five-star restaurant. I showed up fully, having learned from an early age that how you do one thing says a lot about how you’ll do everything else.

One of our regular customers eventually noticed. One day, he pulled me aside and asked what I was doing there. I explained that I had finished college but couldn’t land a job. Every opportunity seemed to require experience, and my CV didn’t have much to show for it. A few days later, he arranged an interview for me... and that’s where the next chapter began.

The role was casual—just a seven-day assignment to collate and dispatch documents to over 2,500 advocates across East Africa. We were paid per day. Most people stretched the work out across the full week to earn more. Most people stretched the work across the full week to earn more, but I found a way to finish it in three. At the time it didn’t even occur to me that by shortening the delivery time, I was also shortening my own pay. I was simply trying to apply efficiency and do the work well.

When the boss walked in and discovered the work was already done, he didn’t sound impressed. His tone was sharp as he asked, “Whose idea was it to change how this task is done?” The room went silent. Then all fingers pointed at me. At the time, I thought I was in serious trouble. But I would later learn that his tone wasn’t directed at me personally—it was shaped by a past experience. Apparently, something similar had happened before, and the outcome hadn’t been pleasant. So naturally, he was cautious. “Before you leave, I need to see you in my office,” he said, then turned and walked off without another word. 

When I entered his office, I didn’t wait for him to speak. “I’m glad you asked to see me,” I said, “because I was hoping to see you too.” He looked at me, surprised and slightly amused. “Go ahead,” he said. I told him I’d been out of college for two years, struggling to find work because everyone wanted experience. “How do I gain experience,” I asked, “if no one gives me a chance?”

Then I told him my intention—to volunteer at his organization just to grow and improve my CV. He explained that their work was sensitive, and they only took in people they could vouch for. That’s when I reminded him: “I just saved you four days of wages by doing this differently. Imagine what more I could do if given the chance.”

That moment shifted everything.
He offered me a three-month volunteer role—not salaried, but with a small daily transport allowance. I didn’t mind the arrangement. I believed in myself, and I understood the power of a first impression. I knew I wouldn’t get a second chance to show what I was capable of—and clearly, I had made that first moment count. The only request I made was for my allowances to be consolidated and paid to me in a lump sum at the end of the month.

Right there in his office, he told me that for all future assignments like the one I had just completed, I would be the one managing the crew. Just a few days after meeting the team for the first time, I was already leading them. They had been doing that same task for months. I came in once, did it differently, and everything changed.

I didn’t know what my main job was going to be until I showed up that first Monday. I was assigned to file documents that hadn’t been touched in over 50 years. I was taken to a room that looked more like a dumping site than an office—papers everywhere, no system, no structure, and three months to bring order to the chaos. I created a system from scratch. No shortcuts. No templates. Just logic, effort, and intentionality. That filing system? It’s still in use today. I also walked away with a chronic flu that lasted a year—thanks to all the dust I inhaled from that room. But I showed up every day and did my best because it wasn’t just about the money, it was about the opportunity to become something more. By the way, filing systems are among the things I learned in college.

In my usual Liz style, I finished the task early, which opened room for more assignments to keep coming. I filled in for the receptionist on maternity leave. Then I covered for a legal secretary who hadn’t gone on annual leave in three years. After that, I was appointed as the PA/Secretary to the boss himself. What started as a three-month volunteer opportunity turned into a full year of rotating roles—learning, adapting, growing, and leaving my mark.

Let me just say it was me who eventually decided it was time to leave. Certain things started happening that didn’t sit right with me, and deep down, I knew my season there had come to an end. Years later, I went back to visit. That dusty, forgotten filing room had been completely transformed into a sleek executive office. The person sitting in it had no idea that the space he now occupied had once been a dumping ground, or that someone like me had made it usable again. That day, I walked around the office, greeted the executive with a quiet smile, and said nothing about who I was or what I had done.

That day I was reminded of something I once heard: The shade we enjoy today often comes from trees planted by people who may never sit under them.
 

That organization didn’t just let me hone my filing skills, it taught me value, patience, discipline, adaptability, diligence and the value of systems. It showed me how to carry myself in spaces where my presence was unexpected, and how to create value even when no one is clapping.

Looking back at this particular chapter of my life here’s what I learned:

1. Your first job may not look like your dream job—but it can shape your destiny.

2. Sometimes the conditions will be harsh, the people won’t be kind, and the work won’t be pretty. Do it anyway.

3. No work is too low when your purpose is high.

4. If you’re going to show up, show up fully, even when no one is watching.

5. The job title doesn’t determine the value of the experience; your effort does.

6. Sometimes what we call rejection is a redirection to where you were actually meant to be.

7. Believing in yourself is often the only invitation you’ll need to step into greater spaces.

8. Make your first impression count—you might not get a second.

9. Sometimes, you earn to learn, and many times you learn long before you ever earn.

10. Your effort today may speak long after you’ve left the room.

11. The best growth often happens in the most uncomfortable environments.

12. Legacy isn’t always loud—plant the tree, even if you may never sit under its shade.

13. You may not be recognized, but that doesn’t mean your work didn’t matter.

14. Sometimes, the doors won’t open for you at first and then somewhere along the way, you end up holding the keys.

15. Last but not least, the person you want to be in the future is shaped by how you show up today, even in roles no one else sees as important. (I could tell you hundreds of personal stories about this one).

Now over to you:
If any part of this story reminded you of your own journey, or a moment where you had to fight for your breakthrough, I’d love to hear it. What job, challenge, or season shaped you the most? Drop a comment, share your turning point, or tag someone who needs to hear this today.

Lastly, someone else’s future could be waiting on one action you take today. 

Be ignited. Be inspired. Be influenced.
Become the best version of yourself you can ever be.