Eric Wakabi tells me there are conversations he never forgets. One of them came shortly after the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) funding withdrawal affected many organisations in Uganda. A woman he had never met before reached out to him in distress. She had lost her job. She was a single mother with three children. Despite years of experience in the NGO sector, she suddenly found herself uncertain about how she would survive the next few months.
“She told me, ‘Eric, I do not even know how I am going to pay rent next month,'” he recalls.
For Wakabi, such conversations have become part of daily life. People often contact him looking for help with Curriculum Vitae, cover letters, or interview preparation. But many of the conversations quickly become much deeper than that. Behind almost every application document, he says, is fear, pressure, disappointment, and survival.
“Someone is not just asking for a CV. They are carrying pressure, fear, survival issues, family responsibilities, disappointment, and sometimes deep personal struggles,” he tells me.
Over the years, Wakabi’s phone has become something of a refuge for frustrated professionals, anxious graduates, laid-off NGO workers, and employees trapped in toxic workplaces. Some call after months without interview feedback. Others reach out after losing jobs they thought were secure. Many simply want someone to help them understand why, despite their qualifications and experience, opportunities continue to slip away.
From the newsroom
What makes Wakabi’s story unusual is that he never initially intended to become a career coach or employability consultant. Long before he started helping professionals rebuild confidence in themselves, he was a journalist.
Early in his career, he wrote for Ugandan print media. He later served as managing editor of a newspaper in South Sudan, during a difficult period when conflict had engulfed Juba. When he speaks about journalism, it becomes clear that he still sees the world through a storyteller’s lens.
“Journalism gave me one of the most important skills anyone can have, the ability to write effectively,” he says.
He laughs slightly as he remembers the frustration of seeing editors completely rewrite his stories during his early newsroom days. “I would sometimes write a story and then see the published version the next day looking completely different from what I had submitted. At first, that was frustrating, but over time I realised those experiences were sharpening my writing ability,” he says.
Eventually, he says, he reached a point where he wanted to write stories so well that editors would barely need to change anything. Those lessons, he explains, unexpectedly became the foundation of the work he does today.
“The discipline, attention to detail, storytelling ability, and understanding of audience engagement that I gained as a journalist are the same skills I now apply in CV writing and personal branding,” he says.
An accidental turn
For Wakabi, a CV is not simply a professional requirement. “A CV is more than a document. It is a person’s professional story,” he says.
That understanding of storytelling followed him as his career moved beyond journalism into communications, legal work, and international organisations. Over a 15-year professional journey, he worked with institutions, a number of local and international organisations.
As he moved between respected organisations, people around him began asking how he consistently secured opportunities in highly competitive institutions. “What many people saw as frequent movement, I saw as growth driven by value and positioning,” he shares.
At first, he helped friends informally. He reviewed CVs, rewrote cover letters, and prepared people for interviews, mostly without charging them. But the requests kept increasing.
One successful candidate referred another. Then another. Before long, strangers were calling him saying someone he had helped had shared his number. Today, Wakabi estimates he has worked on more than 800 CVs and helped well over 100 people secure jobs.
What surprised him most, however, was how emotional the work became. “Behind every CV is a person, a family, responsibilities, dreams, and sometimes survival itself,” he says.
More than qualifications
Listening to job seekers over the years has convinced him that many professionals misunderstand what modern employers are actually looking for. “I think one of the biggest things many applicants still fail to understand is that the job market today is no longer only about qualifications,” he says.
According to him, many talented professionals struggle not because they lack ability, but because they fail to communicate their value clearly. “Many people are doing amazing work, but they struggle to communicate it properly,” he says.
He explains that professionals often reduce important responsibilities into weak descriptions that fail to reflect their actual impact. Someone who coordinated national stakeholders, managed donor communication, or led projects may simply write that they “attended meetings and prepared reports.”
At the same time, he says, others overcomplicate their CVs with corporate jargon and exaggerated language. “Some use very big English and corporate words that ever lose meaning,” he says.
Instead, he believes simplicity and authenticity matter more. “Clear, authentic writing almost always feels more professional than overly complicated language.”
Finding value
One moment, he says, completely changed the way he viewed the value of his skill. He recalls meeting a high-net-worth client and author at Café Javas to help her develop a professional profile. At the time, he charged her Shs150,000.
After reviewing the work, she looked at him and said, “Eric, you are underselling yourself.” Instead of paying the agreed amount, she paid him Shs500,000.
Then she introduced him to several of her friends occupying senior professional and board-level positions who also needed executive profiles and CVs. “That single day, I earned about Shs1.5m from writing just three professional profiles,” he says.
But beyond the money, the experience changed the way he understood his work. “It made me realise that what I was offering was not just CV writing; it was professional positioning, personal branding, and strategic storytelling,” he says.
Workplace confessions
Today, much of Wakabi’s work extends beyond formal consultations. Interestingly, some of his most active professional conversations now happen on his WhatsApp status.
“Over time, my WhatsApp status has become a small community where people openly discuss work life, office challenges, career frustrations, toxic work environments, leadership, confidence, interviews, and professional growth,” he says.
Sometimes, more than 500 people engage with the discussions. People speak openly about burnout, toxic bosses, rejection, office politics, and the pressure of trying to maintain stability in increasingly uncertain workplaces.
“What surprises me most is how relatable these conversations are across different professions and industries,” he says.
Many people, according to Wakabi, simply want a space where they can talk honestly about work without feeling judged.
“Sometimes someone shares something painful about office politics, burnout, unfair bosses, rejection, or feeling unappreciated, and then another person responds saying, ‘I thought I was the only one going through this,'” he says.
In many ways, he admits, the conversations have evolved into something that feels almost therapeutic. “Not because I am a therapist,” he quickly clarifies, “but because people feel heard, understood, and less alone in their experiences.”
Looking ahead, he says he wants to build something bigger from the conversations and support systems that have grown around his work. He envisions workshops, mentorship programmes, speaking engagements, and digital platforms focused on employability, workplace wellbeing, and professional growth.