Member since May 2026
Karen Gamba, the visionary CEO and Co-Founder of ExV Agency, and Client Development Director of ExV Events, is a dynamic leader passionate about personal branding and authentic connections. With a global perspective shaped by studies in BRIC economics, journalism, and creative writing, Karen disrupts the PR and content production industry with innovative campaigns for individuals and businesses. Her commitment to inclusive storytelling creates spaces for diverse experiences to be shared.
Believing the bedrock of success is personal branding and authentic relationships, Karen champions a ripple effect of positive impact through genuine connections. Currently expanding ExV into Asia, she focuses on networking, media engagement, and personal branding training.
Beyond business, Karen co-founded Women Building Women, a non-profit supporting career mentorship for women in marginalized communities. In her multifaceted leadership, Karen Gamba leaves an indelible mark on professional empowerment and community support.
The Power of Authentic Networking: Building Real Relationships in a Digital Age.
Key Takeaways:
Value First, Always: Discover how leading with value transforms cold calls into meaningful conversations and fosters lasting relationships.
Authenticity Over Everything: Learn the power of genuine connections and why being real is your greatest asset in building trust and rapport.
Trust as the Cornerstone: Understand the critical role trust plays in networking and how to cultivate it for long-term success and collaboration.
While working in corporate America, I attended countless conferences dominated by male speakers, keynotes, and panelists. Amid the sea of suits, the rare sight of high heels or a dress stood out. I was struck by how many incredible professionals with strong experience, presentation skills, and expertise were being overlooked simply for being too young, female, or a person of color. Realizing that waiting for opportunities was not the answer, I felt compelled to create spaces for these overlooked individuals—and for myself. That’s when I embarked on my business journey. I knew I had to be the change, and inspire others who felt the same way I did.
Growing up in South Africa as a person of color during apartheid, in a religious family where women were expected to keep their heads down and be more demure, I mostly followed the rules and never tried to rock the boat. When I arrived in corporate America, I vowed to keep my head down and be thankful that, as an immigrant, I was employed. But something burned within me. Am I selfish for wanting more? I wondered. Would I be disappointing my family if I started speaking out about my career dissatisfaction, asking for things I deserved—like a raise after five years of getting nothing—and confidently pursuing my aspirations?
It wasn't until I realized that standing up for myself and striving for what I believed in, focusing on my self-worth, and recognizing the impact I could have on others, that I felt compelled to start designing a future that would make me happy and positively influence others. When I hosted my first self-financed event, with a panel featuring executives from BlackRock, IPOs, and Magic Circle Law Firms, I felt I had reached the pinnacle of my career.
Then, a man walked up to me, handed me his coat, and said, "Can you check that for me and get me to the host of this event?" I handed his coat to one of my staff and proudly replied, "I am the host of this event. I'm glad you could join us." He looked me up and down, burst out laughing, and said, "No really, who is the host of the event?"
At that moment, I realized it would always be an uphill climb—a battle with my inner insecurities and upbringing—to achieve recognition and respect. More importantly, I learned to understand whose respect actually counted. There is a difference.
While working in corporate America, I attended countless conferences dominated by male speakers, keynotes, and panelists. Amid the sea of suits, the rare sight of high heels or a dress stood out. I was struck by how many incredible professionals with strong experience, presentation skills, and expertise were being overlooked simply for being too young, female, or a person of color. Realizing that waiting for opportunities was not the answer, I felt compelled to create spaces for these overlooked individuals—and for myself. That’s when I embarked on my business journey. I knew I had to be the change, and inspire others who felt the same way I did.
Growing up in South Africa as a person of color during apartheid, in a religious family where women were expected to keep their heads down and be more demure, I mostly followed the rules and never tried to rock the boat. When I arrived in corporate America, I vowed to keep my head down and be thankful that, as an immigrant, I was employed. But something burned within me. Am I selfish for wanting more? I wondered. Would I be disappointing my family if I started speaking out about my career dissatisfaction, asking for things I deserved—like a raise after five years of getting nothing—and confidently pursuing my aspirations?
It wasn't until I realized that standing up for myself and striving for what I believed in, focusing on my self-worth, and recognizing the impact I could have on others, that I felt compelled to start designing a future that would make me happy and positively influence others. When I hosted my first self-financed event, with a panel featuring executives from BlackRock, IPOs, and Magic Circle Law Firms, I felt I had reached the pinnacle of my career.
Then, a man walked up to me, handed me his coat, and said, "Can you check that for me and get me to the host of this event?" I handed his coat to one of my staff and proudly replied, "I am the host of this event. I'm glad you could join us." He looked me up and down, burst out laughing, and said, "No really, who is the host of the event?"
At that moment, I realized it would always be an uphill climb—a battle with my inner insecurities and upbringing—to achieve recognition and respect. More importantly, I learned to understand whose respect actually counted. There is a difference.