Zethu Gqola has built a career at the intersection of music, culture and conversation. As a music marketing strategist, she has helped shape campaigns for artists across the African music landscape, while her candid social media commentary on pop culture and socio-political issues has earned her a community of people who value her perspective. In 2024, she was named GLAMOUR South Africa’s Next Gen Game Changer at the Women of the Year Awards, recognising her influence in music and entertainment. She has since expanded her storytelling through Quiet Conversations, a podcast that explores the people, processes and creative decisions behind some of the music we love.

But Zethu’s story extends far beyond professional milestones. Behind the recognition are experiences that have challenged her confidence, changed how she understands the world and shaped the woman she is today. From navigating motherhood and losing the grandparents who helped raise her to confronting racism at a young age, speaking publicly about sexual harassment and learning to see rejection differently, her defining moments have not always been the easiest ones to revisit. They have, however, helped her find her voice, stand firmly in her values and make room for a fuller understanding of success, love and resilience.

 

In our latest 10 Moments That Changed My Life, Zethu reflects on the experiences that have left a lasting mark on her life, from an unexpected lottery win that changed her perspective on gambling to the people who taught her what love can look like. Her reflections are a reminder that the moments that shape us are not always the ones we plan for, and that sometimes the most meaningful growth comes from what we learn along the way.

 

1. Winning a GLAMOUR Women of the Year Award

I was placed in a voting category, so I urged my followers and everyone who supported me and my work to vote. I recognised that this was my one shot at winning my first award, and I was determined to give the campaign everything I had because the recognition meant so much to me.

 

Winning made me appreciate the community I had built online even more. It reminded me how extraordinary life can turn out when people believe you deserve something. It was a major turning point that opened doors and helped me navigate the transition from content creator to public figure.

2. Becoming the Sole Ambassador for ARC Store

As someone whose career is not centred on beauty, becoming the sole ambassador for ARC Store was both surprising and an honour. I had always been open about my weaknesses when it came to makeup and skincare, as well as my disinterest in overconsumption. I would rather find what works for me and stick with it. Still, I have always appreciated how empowering makeup and good skin can feel on a personal level.

 

To be recognised for that, and for the positive impact I had on young women, meant more than I could have imagined. I was being seen as someone worth investing in. I have since become a much bigger beauty and skincare enthusiast, even studying a Beauty Business Essentials course through the Fashion Institute of Technology in the US with ARC’s support. I wanted to understand this new space more deeply and bring more to the table than simply being a face talking about products.

3. Becoming a Mother of Two

Becoming a mother for the first time is one thing, but the transition to having two children was one of the most shocking experiences of my life, respectfully. I had only just started finding my rhythm as a mother when I had to adjust to the physical and emotional work of raising two children. Even with an incredible, active and engaged co-parent at home, nothing could have fully prepared me for it.

 

Over time, I have grown more confident in my parenting and far more resilient. I am proud of the woman my children have helped shape me into. But that adjustment period? Crazy.

 

4. Losing All My Grandparents

I was fortunate to grow up knowing three of my grandparents, and they became an integral part of my childhood and how I was raised. The love and care they gave me, along with the lessons they taught me, are things I will always carry.

Their passing felt as though parts of me disappeared with them. There is still an emptiness deep inside me that I cannot seem to shake. I am not sure I even want to, because that pain feels like one of the last things connecting me to them in this world.

 

I still have my grandmother’s leather church hat, which has become one of my most iconic pieces. I also have a leather jacket with a tear on the right shoulder that she never repaired after an adventurous attempt to jump a fence in her youth while doing something she probably should not have been doing. I have never sewn that hole either. Some memories are worth keeping exactly as they are.

 

5. Learning to See Rejection Differently

There is nothing more challenging than missing out on a job you hoped for or not receiving the recognition you believe you deserve. I have experienced many of those moments, and I am sure there will be more. Not because I am unworthy, but because that is simply how life works sometimes.

 

Earlier in my career, rejection hit me hard. These days, I am more likely to think, “Not my time. Try again later.” The accumulation of those experiences has changed how I understand failure. I am less afraid to try, less afraid to hear no, and more aware that some yeses can change the trajectory of your life.

In my early twenties, I wanted to try modelling on the side, but after being rejected by a few agencies, I gave up on it altogether. Nearly 12 years later, I unexpectedly booked my first campaign with G-Star RAW. If that does not tell you that everything happens in its own time, I do not know what will.

 

6. Starting My Podcast

In a world where everybody seems to have a podcast, starting one was both the most exciting and the most daunting thing I had ever done. It felt like starting my own business, made possible with the incredible support of Quiet Life Co. and Dusk Studios. It was something I had always wanted to do, but I had never quite found the courage or resources to make it happen. Then these amazing people came along and asked, “Why not?”

 

Since launching Quiet Conversations, I have become a much better communicator. I find myself wanting to understand people more deeply, and the conversations constantly remind me to keep going. The people I have had the privilege of speaking to embody resilience and the determination to make their wildest dreams come true.

 

The launch was also featured in publications including Rolling Stone Africa, thanks to the work of Sheila Afari and her team. I have since had the pleasure of speaking to extraordinary people, including three-time New York Times bestselling author Tomi Adeyemi, Grammy Award-winning singer and songwriter Manana, Bongeziwe Mabandla and Zolani Mahola. It has been a reminder of what can happen when you finally give an idea the chance to exist.

 

7. Speaking Publicly About Sexual Harassment

Women experience harassment and abuse every day, but speaking about it publicly can be terrifying. Too often, people’s first response is not to question why someone committed the abuse, but to ask what the woman did to provoke it. That response is sick, it is normalised, and it is one of the reasons so many women are afraid to share their experiences.

 

There was something humiliating about admitting what happened to me in front of strangers, even though it should never have felt that way. I received immense public support, and the industry in which the person responsible worked took action. What was even more heartbreaking was that my story gave other women the courage to come forward. The sheer number of accounts involving one individual was something no one could have anticipated.

 

I will always look back on that dark period as a moment when I reclaimed my power, alongside many other women. It unlocked a courage and strength in me that I did not know I possessed.

 

8. Experiencing Racism at Ten Years Old

When I was ten, my school was putting on a big production of The Little Mermaid. I was one of those little star choir singers, with standout moments in medleys and the occasional solo. Around that time, I also remember wanting to be a star when I grew up. I saw Halle Berry, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera and thought, “This is it. I want to be them.”

 

I auditioned for Ariel and received so much praise from other students and parents. I genuinely felt that my singing was amazing. Then I was cast as Ursula. I was devastated, even though it was a good role, and I gave that performance everything I had.

 

I will never forget asking my teacher why I had not been given the part of Ariel and being told that I did not look like her. It was my earliest memory of being confronted with racism so directly. That experience stayed with me, not only because of the disappointment, but because of what it taught me about the way race can shape who is seen as belonging in certain roles.

 

9. Winning the Lottery for the First Time

It was not millions. In fact, it was R50. I am vehemently against gambling, but there was something oddly satisfying about placing a R10 bet and winning R40 back. I went on to win twice more, although those wins were much smaller.

 

That was when I began to understand how gambling works and how easily people can be drawn into it. As I got older, I learned more about the complexities of addiction and how gambling can destroy lives and families, much like other forms of addiction.

 

I have always turned down brand deals associated with betting companies or the promotion of gambling because I believe it can be a dangerous path. It preys on people’s vulnerabilities and desperation. That small win gave me an unexpected perspective on why the cycle can be so difficult to escape, and it reinforced my decision not to encourage it.

10. Falling in Love

I was never really a lover girl. I have only had three boyfriends in my life, and my current partner is the father of my children. Romantic relationships were never something I aspired to have. I grew up surrounded by strong women and influenced by women in the media who pursued what they wanted, with men often being an afterthought. As a highly independent person, I always felt there was so much to do. Who had time for a relationship?

 

I was set in my ways and not particularly interested in compromising because it did not feel worth it, until the right person came along. Being loved is such a beautiful thing: being considered, supported, held, praised, educated and called out, and having a companion with whom to navigate life.

 

I have also come to understand that love takes many forms. It is in the friends who stay by our side and love us unconditionally, as though we have been sisters our entire lives. It is in our children, who can make us realise that we have never been loved in a purer form. There is so much beauty in the idea of love, especially when we allow ourselves to experience it in all its different forms.