Men, let’s be real.
Charisma isn’t some magical gift bestowed on the lucky few. It’s earned. It’s built. And I know this because I’ve been at rock bottom—awkward, invisible, fumbling through life like a penguin trying to dance. My name is Eric Mwenda, a software enthusiast, web developer, and, more importantly, the Chancellor of the University of Men With Charisma. But long before I became any of these things, I was just a clueless kid trying to figure out how to be noticed. Today, I want to tell you a story about the early battles I fought—and lost—on my way to becoming the man I am now. A story that will make you laugh, cringe, and hopefully learn how to avoid some of the dumb mistakes I made.
It all started in class 6, during the golden years of President Mwai Kibaki’s tenure. Back then, I was the guy who topped the class and walked around like I owned the place. Being the smart kid came with perks—celebrity status in school, approval from teachers, and envy from my peers. It fed my ego and planted a dangerous seed of entitlement in my young brain. I thought that because I had brains, I deserved anything and everything, including the heart of the prettiest girl in class. This girl—let’s call her Elosy—was a village queen, the epitome of beauty for a kid like me who had never ventured beyond the borders of Murima. She was all I could think about. But I had no idea what girls wanted or how to approach them. And in those days, no one gave you a crash course on winning a girl’s heart. Society expects boys to just “figure it out.” Spoiler alert: I didn’t.
One day, I overheard a classmate bragging about how he was dating a girl by pulling off smooth tricks. This was my first exposure to what I thought was the sacred gospel of charm. Intrigued, I asked to join the circle of self-proclaimed Casanovas, hoping to absorb their wisdom. My classmate, with the confidence of a TED Talk speaker, said he won over his crush by stealing candies and showering her with sweets. That sounded reckless. But another genius in the group took things to a new level of stupidity. He claimed that to truly capture a girl’s heart, you needed to find a green snake, kill it, sun-dry it, and milk its sweat. This, according to him, was the ultimate love potion. Desperate to impress Elosy, I bought into the madness and spent weeks hunting for a green snake, carrying around a Sprite bottle I’d swiped from my mom’s shop. I looked like a knock-off version of Jaguar Paw from *Apocalypto*. But the snake never showed up.
When Plan A failed, I went back to the boys for more “expert” advice. A new guy, fresh from boarding school and inspired by Lil Wayne’s tattoos, suggested we carve symbols onto our skin to boost our street cred. He swore that tattoos were the secret to attracting women. If it worked for Lil Wayne, why not for us? So, we made an appointment with a guy who claimed to be a calligraphy expert. His tools? A burnt acacia thorn and a lot of misplaced confidence. Most of my friends opted for fierce symbols—“Beast,” “Lion,” or the names of WWE wrestlers like “John Cena” and “Batista.” But not me. No, I was going to show Elosy how deeply I felt. I decided to tattoo her name on my wrist. Looking back, I was the king of simps.
The pain was excruciating, but I was too focused on my mission to care. I walked into school the next day with Elosy’s name proudly engraved on my wrist, thinking it was only a matter of time before she fell for me. All I had to do was roll up my sleeves, flash the tattoo, and let the magic happen. The moment came. I gathered every ounce of courage I had, approached her, and showed her the tattoo. And… nothing. She was unimpressed. In fact, she found it weird. My grand gesture flopped harder than a bad joke at a comedy club. But it didn’t end there. The next day, one of my friends was caught with a bundle of condoms he had taken from his mom, who was a nurse. In a panic, he ratted out the entire squad, exposing all our juvenile schemes. The teachers were furious, and I found myself on the receiving end of over 500 cane strokes, not just for my involvement in the condom scandal but also for the tattoo of Elosy’s name on my wrist. My secret plan to win her over was now public knowledge, and my social status plummeted faster than a bad stock on the Nairobi Securities Exchange.
But the most painful part wasn’t the caning or the humiliation—it was realizing how badly I had misunderstood what it takes to be attractive. I thought I needed tricks, stunts, and gimmicks. I thought tattoos, snake sweat, and stolen candies would make me irresistible. But here’s the truth: Charisma isn’t about flashy moves or grand gestures. It’s about who you are at your core. It’s the persona you embody. It’s about presence, power, and warmth—the three pillars of real charisma. Presence means being fully engaged and in the moment, not fidgeting or distracted. Power is about confidence and competence, knowing you can handle whatever life throws at you. And warmth? That’s the ability to connect with others genuinely, without trying to impress or manipulate them.
Looking back, I realize that my younger self had it all wrong. If I had known then what I know now, I would have focused less on trying to impress Elosy and more on becoming the kind of person who naturally attracts people—someone with self-respect, confidence, and purpose. Charisma isn’t something you slap on like cologne; it’s something you cultivate from within. If your charisma is running on fumes right now, here’s where to start: Conduct a self-audit. Write down who you are today and who you want to become in the next six months. Identify the gaps—your strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats. Then, find a tribe that embodies the qualities you want to develop. Surround yourself with people who radiate presence, power, and warmth, and let their energy elevate you.
I spent years chasing the wrong things—tattoos, tricks, and snake sweat—only to learn the hard way that charisma is built from the inside out. Today, I don’t need gimmicks to attract people. I don’t need to prove myself with stunts. I’ve become the kind of man who walks into a room and commands attention without saying a word. And you can too. The journey isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. If you’re tired of feeling invisible, if you’re ready to become the man you were always meant to be, join us on Telegram at Men With Charisma. It’s time to stop chasing validation and start living with purpose.