Bukola Bello

I attribute my success to a combination of discipline, preparation, and purpose, grounded in a deep understanding of both people and systems.

I learned early that talent alone is not enough. I’ve been intentional about mastering my craft—understanding policy, power structures, and the decision-making process—so that when I’m in the room, I bring value that is undeniable. I don’t rely on access alone; I rely on competence, credibility, and consistency.

I also attribute my success to the ability to build trust across differences. In this work, relationships matter, but trust is earned by showing up prepared, telling the truth—even when it’s uncomfortable—and delivering results. I’ve made it a priority to be seen as someone who is strategic, solutions-oriented, and reliable, not just persuasive.

Equally important is resilience. Navigating spaces where you may be underestimated forces you to develop thick skin, clarity of purpose, and the ability to move forward without internalizing every obstacle. I’ve learned to turn barriers into data—information that helps me refine strategy rather than derail momentum.

Finally, my success is rooted in purpose and responsibility. I’m motivated not just by personal achievement, but by the understanding that my presence opens doors, changes perceptions, and creates opportunities for others. That sense of responsibility keeps me focused, grounded, and committed to excellence—because I know I’m not just representing myself.

“The best advice I ever received was: Don’t ask to belong—be undeniable.

I was told early on that in male-dominated spaces, you don’t always get the benefit of being assumed competent. So instead of spending energy trying to fit in or be accepted, I focused on mastering my work, understanding the system, and showing up prepared every single time.

That advice taught me to let results speak first. When you’re undeniable—when your expertise is clear, your judgment is trusted, and your follow-through is consistent—you change the dynamic in the room. You’re no longer asking for space; you’re defining it.

It also helped me separate confidence from volume. I didn’t need to be the loudest voice to be the most effective one. I learned when to speak, how to speak, and how to move with purpose. That advice has shaped how I lead, how I negotiate, and how I mentor others—especially women and people of color navigating similar spaces.”

“My advice to women who want to be lobbyists is this: learn the system before you try to change it—and take yourself seriously before you expect anyone else to.”

Lobbying isn’t about being persuasive all the time. It’s about credibility, preparation, and judgment. Know the policy, know the process, know the players—and be able to explain all three clearly. When you understand how decisions actually get made, you don’t have to perform or posture; you can operate with confidence.

Be intentional about how you show up. You don’t need to mimic anyone else’s style to succeed. Authority doesn’t come from volume or bravado—it comes from clarity, consistency, and results. Speak when you have something to add, and when you do, make it count.

Protect your reputation like an asset, because it is. In this business, your name travels faster than you do. Be reliable. Be honest. Don’t overpromise. People remember who tells the truth and who delivers.

Build relationships, but don’t confuse access with influence. Influence comes from being trusted, not just being seen. Take the long view—invest in relationships even when there’s nothing immediate to gain.

Finally, remember that your presence matters. You belong in rooms where policy is shaped and decisions are made. Don’t shrink, don’t rush, and don’t wait for permission. Do the work, know your value, and move with purpose.

The biggest challenges in government relations as an African American woman aren’t usually about access—they’re about assumptions, credibility gaps, and unequal margins for error.

One challenge is being underestimated. In many rooms, you’re not automatically presumed to be the expert, even when you are. That means you often have to arrive more prepared, more precise, and more disciplined just to be evaluated on equal footing. Over time, you learn to treat preparation as a non-negotiable—not as pressure, but as power.

Another challenge is navigating visibility without stereotyping. You’re often highly visible, but not always fully heard. There’s a narrow band between being perceived as “too aggressive” or “not assertive enough,” and learning how to communicate with authority while staying authentic takes intention and experience. You become very aware that tone, delivery, and timing are scrutinized differently.

There’s also the challenge of relationship-building in spaces where trust has historically been gatekept. Government relations runs on long-term trust, and that trust isn’t always extended equally at the outset. You have to earn it through consistency, follow-through, and integrity—sometimes without the benefit of grace for early missteps.

Finally, there’s the responsibility piece. As one of few, you often carry an unspoken burden of representation. You’re aware that how you show up affects not just your own reputation, but how others perceive those who come after you. That pressure is real—but it can also be motivating. It sharpens your leadership and reinforces why excellence matters.

The challenge, ultimately, is not whether you belong—but whether the system is ready to fully recognize your value. And the way you meet that challenge is by being prepared, strategic, resilient, and unapologetically excellent.

What I value most is trust—professionally and personally. If I trust you, we’re great. If I don’t… I still smile, but I’m not rushing to hold the elevator door open if I see you running up, lol.