A Costly Lesson in Trust
One day, in town, I handed my cellphone to a man who claimed he could fix it. His “workshop” was nothing more than a makeshift table set up in front of a shop. Still, I trusted him. Even more when he told me that he was going with my phone to a nearby shop for some spares. But I was clever enough to realise I was duped — twenty minutes after he was gone — with no trace of him.
I knew he did not operate alone. Two men standing close by drew my attention; they were a bit too detached, despite being so physically close. Desperate but hopeful, I approached them, offering a reward if my phone was to be recovered.
Days later, I received a call. It was one of them, telling me the accused was back at his usual spot. I called my husband and he came with a friend. Caught red-handed, he pleaded with us not to involve the police, promising instead to lead us to where the phone had been sold — at some dealers’ spot, a few blocks away.
When Information Becomes a Weapon
As we drove away with the accused, on our way to recover the gadget, I received a text from my informer, asking where we were headed. Believing he was on my side, I told him. That was my mistake. By the time we arrived at the dealers’ spot, it was empty. They had fled. A passerby mentioned that one of the dealers had received a tip-off of an imminent raid just moments earlier. It became painfully clear to me: my openness had sabotaged our mission.
Fortunately, the accused had a second option. His brother owned a shop in town and was willing to give us another phone. As we made our way there, the informer through texts, grew persistent, pressing me to reveal our destination again. This time, I had learned. I said nothing. We arrived and the shop was still open.
The Power of Silence
That day, I walked away with more than a replacement phone. I gained a life lesson; Not every friendly ear is a safe one. Some people don’t need to fight you directly; all they need is information. The great works we are meant to do always begin as thoughts — quiet, fragile ideas forming within us. But when we reveal them too early, too freely, we unintentionally alert opposing forces. We give room for interference, sabotage, doubt and delay.
Silence, I learned, is not weakness. It is wisdom.
Ideas Are Like Embryos
Ideas can be likened to an embryo; a tiny cell that already carries the full blueprint of a human being. Yet, in its earliest stage, it is extremely vulnerable. Exposure to harm can easily flush it out before it has a chance to grow. A full-grown foetus can withstand what a fragile embryo cannot.
In the same way, dreams spoken about too early are easily destroyed. They are vulnerable to people’s criticism, scepticism, jealousy and negativity. Sometimes, the danger doesn’t come from enemies — but from those who pretend to support you.
Protecting Your Energy and Your Future
When you constantly explain your plans, you spend the energy meant for building on defending. Preserving what you are working on — nurturing your ideas in secrecy, is not selfish. It is strategic. It allows your vision to mature without unnecessary interference. It protects your confidence and keeps your focus intact. There is a season for sharing, and there is a season for silence. Wisdom lies in knowing the difference.
Let Results Speak
Not every thought needs an audience. Not every dream needs applause in its infancy. Some victories are best announced after they have already been won.
Guard your vision. Protect your ideas. Move quietly. Grow steadily. And when the time is right — when the dream is strong enough to stand on its own, let your results speak for themselves.
Mildred Mutize Life Coach | Author | Speaker; Founder: Overcoming Institute, Visit: overcominginstitute.com, Email: [email protected] WhatsApp: +263 773 637 284




