(In memory of Dave Norval, who taught me that silence is where real builders breathe.) In 2018, years after the eTranzact lesson, Nsano received its first major award. A partner we respected chose to recognize our work. It was a proud moment for the entire team, as this was one of our first and hardest-won partnerships. Cameras flashed, speeches flowed, and Nsano’s name carried through the hall. But that same night, after the applause faded, I checked my phone and noticed tha

In the early days of eTranzact, I was the marketing guy. Fresh. Ambitious. Ready to prove myself. We were operating fine. One major client—UBA. Heritage Tower, third floor. Everything running smoothly. But I couldn't understand why we weren't making “noise”. So, I did what any ambitious marketing person would do: I placed an ad in the newspaper. Then, I organized a press conference in our conference room to explain what we were about. The story was published the next day. Wit

"Is your CEO a woman?" Back when I was still leading Nsano, that question came up more than once. People looked at Solace leading operations, Priscilla running business development, Linda in customer service, Akosua managing integrations, Jessica as executive assistant—and assumed the CEO must be a woman too. I never did media interviews. I stayed behind the scenes. The women I'd hired became the visible face of Nsano. The question was evidence that we'd built something diffe

Some deals teach you more by collapsing than by closing. In 2016, Nsano was breaking out of survival mode—expanding into new markets and ready to go pan-African. Then came AA (I'll call him that), a man whose confidence filled every room he entered. He promised to take us continental. I believed him—for a while. Back then, I believed raising investment meant we'd made it. Time proved me wrong. Our first meeting was at his mansion, the kind designed to impress. Every detail ca

People hear "friends and family funding" and imagine big checks or inheritance windfalls. My reality? Countless moments of: "Chale, I need money for this." "Chale, can you spare GHS 1,000?" Again and again. By the time Nsano pivoted to financial services, we'd worked with Vodafone but hadn't been paid. We'd outgrown our small Busy Internet space. So, I turned to my friend Ernest for a soft loan of GHS 50,000 to rent our first real office at Asylum Down. Things got even tighte