I’ve always been a naturally caring person. It’s just who I am. I remember this one moment back in high school—a classmate of mine didn’t show up for three days. While everyone else seemed to carry on as usual, I noticed right away. On the third day, I asked around for her address and went to visit her after school. She wasn’t feeling well, and I was so glad I went—she was genuinely happy to see me. No one else from school had reached out, and the next day, I brought her all the homework and notes she’d missed. That’s always been me—looking out for others, sometimes maybe too much.
My friends, my mom, and my sisters used to tell me I was “too caring.” They’d say, “It’s okay to care, but don’t go overboard, or you’ll end up hurt.” And they were right, in some ways. I have had my heart broken by friends, by boyfriends—but still, that instinct to care never left me.
Alongside that, I’ve always been incredibly inquisitive. I’ve always wanted to understand—to go beyond the surface. Even now, if I’m watching a movie and a character intrigues me, I’ll immediately go online to find out more: their background, their upbringing, what shaped them.
Growing up, whenever relatives visited, I’d ask questions about everything—how life was in the village, where they got their water, what they did during the day. If they were going to herd cattle, I’d go along just to experience it for myself. It felt like I was collecting stories so I could go home and retell them to my sisters or friends. I guess, even then, I was already a storyteller.
My mom used to tell me, “You ask too many questions. Some things people want to keep private.” But I couldn’t help it. I always wanted to know: what school someone went to, how far they walked to get there, what they dreamed of becoming.
It wasn’t just curiosity, it was connection. It was care.
Looking back, I now see how these two traits—my caring nature and my inquisitiveness—have shaped my life in ways I could never have imagined.
I got married in 2019. Not long after, my husband was diagnosed with stage four cancer. And I became, and still am his primary caregiver. That part of me that’s always cared deeply made the journey a little more bearable. It gave me the strength to face incredibly tough moments. If I weren’t naturally like this, I honestly don’t know how I would have managed.
And that curious part of me? The one that always needs to know more? It’s helped me be the kind of caregiver my husband needs. I’ve sat down with oncologists and asked all the questions. I’ve researched relentlessly, watched videos, read blogs, and looked for others going through the same thing just so I could better understand what he was facing and how I could be there for him. That knowledge has helped me comfort him. It’s even helped me explain things to his family when they didn’t fully understand what was happening.
We’re almost six years into his diagnosis now. And I’ve been able to walk with him every step of the way—not because I was trained for this, but because this is who I’ve always been.
And then there’s my career. I’m a journalist. I get paid to ask people questions and dig deep into their stories. I’ve been in the media industry for almost 10 years now—on radio, writing, interviewing—and I love it.
My curiosity, the same one that used to get me in trouble as a kid, is now my greatest strength. My bosses have often complimented me on how I conduct interviews, how I research, how I connect with people. And it’s because I care. I want to understand. I want to tell people’s stories fully and honestly.
Even when I write for The Weight She Carries, or when I discuss things like gender-based violence or celebrate success stories, I always want to go deeper. Yes, it’s great to hear about someone’s achievements—but I want to know: how did they get there? What did they have to overcome?
These two qualities—my empathy and my curiosity—have shaped both my personal life and my professional path. They’ve helped me be the woman, the caregiver, and the storyteller I am today.
There’s so much more I could say, so many more things I could share, but if I had to choose just two things that define me, it would be these. And I’m grateful for them—grateful that the little girl who used to ask a million questions and care a little too much never stopped being that person.
Phoebie Shamiso Chigonde is a journalist passionate about gender equality, social development programmes and grassroots-based solution seeking initiatives. She has a passion for women and community development. Phoebie is also a radio personality at a regional commercial radio station, a platform that enables her to network with like-minded women, journalists and activists as she continues to document and tell the story of the ordinary woman from the lens of that very ordinary woman.