What Drives Me: The Deafening Sound of "I Wonder If"

What truly drives a person? For me, the answer is neither simple nor external. It’s not the crushing pressure of other people's expectations. It's not the fleeting satisfaction of proving critics wrong.

It’s a quieter, more insistent voice—a question that starts as a whisper and builds into a roar: "I wonder if."

It's Not About External Expectations

I know many people are driven by a desire to make their parents proud. I realized long ago that this was never my motivation. I’ve never sought approval or needed to reach a specific milestone for their praise.

They've always been proud; they tell me all the time. But my ambitions have rarely been about them. In fact, many of my earliest career attempts were made in direct opposition—if not to their disapproval, then certainly without their permission or regardless of their fears.

In 2007, I announced I was moving to Sierra Leone for a year. My dad strictly advised against it. I went anyway.

My mom spent years trying to convince me to get a secure job while I was pouring my energy into the Vickie Remoe Show. I heard her fears, but I still did it.

So, a parent’s blessing is definitely not my engine.

It's Not About Proving the Haters Wrong

The other common source of drive is the external pressure to prove something to the world—to show you matter, to silence the doubters.

I have never been motivated by this either. While I've certainly met people who didn't support me, I've never been focused on earning their respect or validation.

I’ve always taken the position that not everyone is going to be "for me." Not everyone will see my vision. And why should they? I don't support everything and everyone I see.

When people don't support me or don't "get it," I see that as a natural part of doing something new. I don't feel any pressure to prove anything to the haters; they're just the yin to the yang.

The Inner Call: The Drumbeat of "I Wonder If"

What truly compels me is that quiet, small question that builds inside me from time to time: "I wonder if."

It's usually followed by, "I wonder if I can do this.” The "this" gets replaced by challenges like:

• I wonder if I can produce a TV show in Sierra Leone.

• I wonder if I can start a podcast.

• I wonder if I can write children's books.

• I wonder if I can produce a documentary film.

• I wonder if I can promote and produce a concert in London.

On the first whisper, I usually ignore it. But slowly, it builds. That I wonder if becomes a low hum, then a buzzing in my ears, and finally, a deafening drumbeat that consumes my entire mind. It compels me to go in search of an answer.

That internal quest to explore what’s possible—the inner call—is what truly drives my work. So much of what I do is simply to answer that single question.

My Model for Doing: Fail Fast, Then Repeat

Sometimes the answer is... not positive.

In 2013, I wondered if I could start and scale a Pan-African women's magazine. The answer was clear: Yes, I could start it (GoWoman magazine). But no, I couldn't scale it. I didn't have the resources, and the market wasn't ready. It didn't work.

This leads to the second part of my process: Experimentation and Repetition.

Every time I do something to answer the "I wonder if" question, I repeat that action—more than once, more than twice, more than three times. This is my validation test: to see if the lessons learned on the first attempt can be successfully transferred, improved, and reliably repeated.

If I find that I can’t transfer those lessons, I stop. I take the knowledge, but I don't keep doing it repeatedly, because I prefer to fail fast and move on.

Scaling the Answer

Once a project passes the validation test, the next question naturally emerges: I wonder if I can scale this answer.

For example, in 2023, I founded the Sierra Leone Diaspora Investment Conference—a direct response to the community’s high interest in investing, which was hampered by little credible information and no structured pathways.

I did the conference the first year and learned. Did the second year and learned. Did the third year and learned. Now, heading into the fourth year, I told myself, "Okay, you've validated this for three years. It's time to scale up."

Scaling up now means:

• Expansion: Moving beyond the initial focus in the United States.

• New Hubs: Reaching out to the two other major hubs for the Sierra Leonean diaspora community: the UK, and Europe

• On the Ground: Hosting the final conference in Sierra Leone in December.

The new question is no longer, I wonder if I can produce a conference for Sierra Leone Diaspora Investment. Now it’s, I wonder if I can curate, produce, and promote 3 conferences on 3 continents in the space of 12 months.

I don't know how this experiment will go. I feel the weight of this undertaking. I feel like I don't have the resources, the time, or the team. It feels bigger than me. But... I still have to explore the possibilities.

So if you see me with a few more gray hairs this year, some frown lines, and looking taya lek tifman wef, just memba say ah stil dey try for ansa di same important question: "I wonder if."

And perhaps, that recent award nomination is simply an unexpected external acknowledgment of the answer I've been seeking all along.