My imagination creates in me a need to communicate that first almost killed me and then taught me how to live

I realised that developing communication skills would be important for me from an early age.

I was very insecure in my childhood and adolescence, especially in relation to my appearance and the fact that I was black in Portugal in the 80s and 90s (there weren't as many of us as there are today) without forgetting, of course, the fact that I stuttered.

I'm an introvert by nature and, like most introverts, I've always had a very active and, in my case, creative brain. When I was five, I broke my arm throwing myself down the stairs of the building where I lived with a towel around my neck because I had watched a Superman film the night before and fell asleep with this plan in mind: to fly. I woke up convinced and excited. I waited for my parents and Mrs Lúcia, who worked at our house, to leave and quickly went to get a towel and some springs, which I used to tie the towel around my neck. I tried to open the window, just like in the film, but it was barred and invalidated the plan. Ah, I lived on the seventh floor, by the way! But I wasn't going to let a few bars jeopardise my plan. I opened the kitchen door and went to the stairs. I looked down and planned my route. I was going to fly out of there and go out to explore the city. Then I'd be back before Mrs Lucia was back. I threw myself and I don't remember anything else. I only have the photos of my broken arm as proof of the consequences. Can you realise the power of my imagination to actually jump down the stairs in a suicide flight?

All this to explain to you how, for me, with so much in my mind and so much fear of putting it out there, this infinite dance between imagination and insecurity needed an infinite space that would lead it to the peace I found, years later, in literature.

If I learnt to read because I missed my mother, I started writing to vent the pain of my first love (unrequited, to put it more poetically). Writing became the perfect vehicle for living. Relief for an incessant mind and a tireless imagination. And when I realised that, through my writing, I could make people understand not only what I felt, but also translate what they themselves felt, I realised that I would never stop. I had found my code and I would continue to perfect it.

Years later, books have been published, awards won and ideas conceived for many of the brands I've created for.

Years on the road have shown me that brands are actually a lot like people, in the sense that they have their characteristics, their talents and, inevitably, their insecurities too. But they undoubtedly have a deep need to connect with the world. No company exists for itself or works in isolation. That's why I enjoy working in brand communication so much and helping them to first define their purpose and voice and then help them to communicate it clearly and thus connect with those who need to hear or feel what they have to say.

Communicating, for me, is not a job. It's a need. Both for people and for organisations, which are, after all, legal entities. Finding the soul of a corporate entity is as challenging as it is magical when it happens. Translating the essence of a soul into words, symbols or images is as complex as it is beautiful. It's a difficult world and an underappreciated job, but I wouldn't choose another one because, deep down, it's the one that chose me.

My five books, my first projects, such as EventosMz or ImproRiso, the campaigns I've done for Vodacom, Standard Bank, Moza, LAM and others, as well as my work managing events for the British High Commission, or managing communications for MUVA and CESC are always different ways of expressing purpose and connecting people. Today the mission continues in everything I do, from my school (YOLO), to projects like the Mozong Platform, the To Mentor You Platform or events like Shortcutz Maputo.

More than these jobs, knowing how to communicate helped me to marry my life to that of an incredible woman and, from this union, to have two marvellous children. It's all because I learnt to write, make no mistake. It was writing that gave me the courage to take risks and try to create life as it is being drawn inside me.

I'm not what I write. I am because I write.

If you're still with me and you've read this text to the end, I'd like to invite you. If you know you need support in communicating your brand, company or organisation, or even as a person, and what I've written here makes sense to you, let's arrange a call, or coffee, have a chat and see how I can be of help.

See you soon,

Carlos Osvaldo Mabutana