Today, in Singapore, I was conferred the title “Best Corporate Trainer in Mauritius in 2025” by the International Coaching Institute (ICI). The moment my name was announced, time did that strange thing it does in high-emotion seconds. It slowed, it stretched, it asked me to feel everything at once.
There was applause, of course. A stage. A photograph. A polite sequence of handshakes. But inside, something much less polished happened.
I did not just think of success. I thought of effort. The kind you cannot post. The kind that looks ordinary from the outside but feels like a daily negotiation with doubt on the inside. I thought of Mauritius, too. Not only as a place I serve, but as a mirror. We are a nation that celebrates achievement, yet often struggles to talk honestly about the inner cost of excellence.
An award can be a beautiful moment. It can also be a psychological test. It asks: Who are you when you are praised? Who are you when you are not?
Behind Every Award Is a Private Curriculum
Let me tell you what an award does not show.
It does not show the training room five minutes before participants arrive, when I am revising a line because I know it sounds clever but not useful. It does not show the tough sessions where the energy is flat, and the room is silently begging you to be more human, not more impressive.
It does not show the countless conversations with leaders who do not need more information. They need courage. They need permission to pause. They need someone to say, “Your team is not failing because they are lazy. They are failing because they are emotionally tired, psychologically unsafe, and performing under unspoken fear.”
Corporate training, at its best, is not a performance. It is an intervention. A carefully designed disruption of autopilot thinking.
And life coaching, at its best, is not motivation. It is truth with compassion.
I have always believed that the most powerful learning does not happen when people are inspired. It happens when people feel seen.
The Mauritius Question: Are We Addicted to Titles?
Here is a slightly uncomfortable question for us Mauritians: do we sometimes love the symbol more than the substance?
We admire certificates, titles, positions, and photo-worthy moments. Yet we can be strangely hesitant about the invisible work that creates those moments. The discipline. The discomfort. The character.
Sometimes we celebrate “success” like it fell from the sky, rather than admitting it was built on boring consistency. Or worse, we assume that if someone is doing well, life must be easy for them. That is a comforting fantasy, because it lets us avoid our own growth.
But growth is rarely glamorous. It is repetitive. It is awkward. It often looks like failing with style, then returning the next day anyway.
This award, for me, is not a finish line. It is a prompt. A question that asks: now that you are publicly recognised, will you keep doing the private work?
What Corporate Training Really Fixes (Hint: It’s Not Skills)
Most organisations think they have a skills gap. Often, they have a human gap.
The real issues I see in teams are not technical. They are psychological:
People are unclear, so they become defensive.
People are unheard, so they disengage.
People are managed, but not led.
People are busy, but not effective.
When training works, it changes behaviour. When training works deeply, it changes identity. A manager stops trying to “control performance” and starts learning how to create conditions for performance.
That is why I talk about leadership as a daily practice, not a personality trait. It is what you do when you are tired, triggered, rushed, and still choose maturity.
In Mauritius, where workplaces often feel like family systems, training must address culture, not just competence. We do not only need better communication. We need cleaner emotional boundaries. We need the courage to give feedback without shame. We need leaders who can hold standards without humiliating people.
A Singapore Stage, A Mauritius Heart
Standing there in Singapore, I felt proud. I also felt grounded. Because my work is not about travel or trophies. It is about impact.
I thought about the first time I facilitated a room where someone finally said, “I have been pretending I am fine at work for years.” I remember that moment more vividly than any applause. Because it is moments like these that remind me what training and coaching are really for.
Not to make people louder.
To make people clearer.
Not to make leaders more powerful.
To make leaders more responsible.
Not to make teams more productive.
To make teams more human.
If you have ever sat in a training session and felt it was a waste of time, I understand you. Many sessions are designed to impress, not to transform. My commitment has always been different: I want participants to leave with tools they can actually use on Monday morning, and insights they cannot unsee on Tuesday night.
The Inner Life of Excellence
Awards create a dangerous temptation: to start performing your identity.
The psyche loves labels because labels reduce uncertainty. “Best Corporate Trainer” is a label. If I cling to it, I risk becoming less curious, less humble, less hungry to learn.
Excellence needs ego, but only in small doses. Too little ego and you never step forward. Too much ego, and you stop listening. The real practice is balancing confidence with teachability.
I often tell my clients this: your growth depends on your willingness to be a beginner again and again. That applies to me too. This award does not mean I have arrived. It means I must evolve, because now my work represents something larger than my personal ambition.
A Quiet Thank You (And A Promise)
I am grateful to the International Coaching Institute for this honour. I am grateful to every organisation, leader, and participant who trusted me with their learning journey. I am grateful, too, to the moments that did not go well, because they trained me more ruthlessly than success ever could.
And to Mauritius, I want to say this with warmth and a little wit: we do not need more noise in our professional spaces. We need more depth. More courage. More emotional intelligence in leadership. More honest conversations in boardrooms, classrooms, and living rooms.
If this recognition means anything, I want it to mean this: I will continue to build training that respects the mind, includes the heart, and changes behaviour in the real world.
Because the true measure of a trainer is not what happens on a stage in Singapore.
It is what changes in a person when they return to their everyday life.
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