I was 17, and I had recently graduated from high school when I started my first business, fixing computers in my community.

It wasn’t planned. I didn’t have a strategy. I just saw a problem and jumped in.

There was an internet café I used to visit, spending hours exploring the web and learning new things. The way they managed customer time was inefficient. The attendant wrote start times manually, and when customers were done, he calculated their costs. This led to frequent arguments – people using more time than they could afford, disputes over usage, and no security system to lock PCs when time was up.

One Sunday, I walked in to find the attendant and a customer in a heated argument. The usual issue—disagreement over time and cost. With help from others, we calmed things down.

For probably the hundredth time, I told my friend (the attendant) to talk to the owner about a better system. Later that evening, I got a call. The owner wanted to meet.

I met him and proposed a deal: I’d set up a system for free and handle their tech issues anytime, and in return, I’d get to use an unused space in the café. The back had two empty rows with 4 tables. He gave me one. That tiny corner became my first business, fixing computers, designing graphics, typing documents. I even bought a printer for photocopying and scanning.

To solve their issue, I installed three key software programs on all 16 client PCs and the attendant’s computer:

• Antamedia – to manage customer sessions
• Avast – to protect against viruses from downloads and USBs
• Deep Freeze – to wipe any files or apps installed by customers, with a simple reboot

OGs in tech will remember these tools. I know Avast is still heavily used today, not sure about the other two.

But here’s the part I want to emphasize: I wasn’t ready.

I felt anxious negotiating with Mr. James, the café owner. I had never installed Antamedia or Deep Freeze before. I had only seen them used in other internet cafes. That night, I read everything I could. Watched tutorials. Took notes.

When I started, I ran a trial on two computers first. I didn’t fully know what I was doing. And thank God, they didn’t know I didn’t know! 😅

I kept thinking: “Any minute now, they’ll realize I have no idea what I’m doing.”

In the same light, I was sure of these things:

• I’m good with computers.
• While in Junior High School, I was entrusted by my tutor (Lucky Porchy – God bless him wherever he is today) to manage all the computers in our lab. From hardware replacements to operating system installation and software installation.
• I had past experiences working on friends’ computers to leverage on.
• I knew I would get the job done if I said I was going to. And I did.

You see, that’s imposter syndrome. The fear that you’re not good enough. That you’re just faking it.

But here’s what I’ve learned: Everyone feels this way at some point. The difference between those who succeed and those who don’t? They push through it.

I wasn’t “ready,” but I started anyway. And by doing the work, I became the person who could do it.

Imposter syndrome thrives on self-doubt. It whispers, “You don’t belong here,” even when you’ve earned your spot. But here’s the truth:

• No one starts as an expert.
• Confidence comes from action, not waiting.
• Every challenge you take on builds real competence.

The key isn’t to wait until you feel ready. It’s to act despite the doubt.

I didn’t feel ready when I installed that first software. I didn’t feel ready when I took on my first paying client. I didn’t feel ready when I built my first website. I didn’t feel ready when I applied for my first job (more on this later, as it was exactly a year and half after I started the business)

But I did it anyway. And each time, I proved to myself that I could.

Looking back, I realize that every major leap in my life started with uncertainty.

• The first time I spoke in front of an audience, my hands were shaking.
• The first time I charged for my services, I feared they’d say no.
• The first time I led a project, I worried I wasn’t qualified.

And yet, I kept going.

If you’re waiting until you feel “ready”, stop. You might never feel ready. But if you start, you’ll realize that you were capable all along.

Feeling like an imposter doesn’t mean you’re unqualified. It means you’re growing.