Beneath the Baobab: My Journey of Love, Motherhood, and Entrepreneurship

Dolo Brewer
Jan 30, 2025
3 min read

Updated: Oct 7, 2025

The Baobab and Me

I have always deeply loved the baobab tree not just for its towering presence but for what it represents.

In Guinea, the baobab is more than just a tree. It is a gathering place, a source of nourishment, a silent witness to history. Its roots stretch wide and deep, its branches reach toward the sky, and its trunk stands firm through centuries of storms. It embodies strength, wisdom, and survival.

In many ways, I see myself in the baobab.

Selling Peanuts and Learning Resilience

One of my earliest memories of survival and entrepreneurship dates back to when I was just eight years old, living in Coyah, Guinea, where I was born. At the time, my father had already traveled to the United States, and my mother had relocated to be with her parents. I stayed behind to attend school, a common practice in many African countries. But school was only part of my reality. Every weekend, I would carry a tray of salted boiled peanuts on my head and walk miles to the granite mining site where hungry, hard-working men and women spent their days breaking stone under the scorching sun. I still remember the sharp, deafening explosions as dynamite shattered the rock, the ground trembling beneath me. I was always told to watch out for flying debris and sharp stones that could pierce skin or worse. But I walked on, determined.

Selling peanuts wasn’t a choice. My aunt, who I lived with then, made me do it, and though I hated every moment, I knew better than to refuse. It was hard work, exhausting, and sometimes scary, but deep down, I understood this was survival. Looking back, I realize this was my first lesson in entrepreneurship. I learned how to sell, how to approach customers, and how to navigate discomfort and fear. I didn’t know it then, but those long walks under the hot sun were preparing me for something greater.

A Cold Welcome

My father, Cece, and I are in Providence, Rhode Island.

Years later, I would find myself in a different kind of challenge that tested me in ways I never expected. I arrived in the United States in October 2003, stepping into an unfamiliar world that greeted me with a crisp, cold air that checked me as if testing my resolve from the very first moment. I remember turning to my father and saying, “I will never speak English.” The words around me moved too fast, tangled too tightly to grasp. I felt lost in a language I could not yet claim. But, like the baobab, I adapted. I stretched, I reached, and I grew. I had left behind more than just my home. I had left my mother, the heart of my world. For years, I carried the weight of that distance, longing for the warmth of her presence. It wasn’t until 2016, just months before my wedding, that I finally saw her again. So much time had been lost, yet I understood something deeply in that moment: love, like the baobab, endures.

Planting My Roots

Like the baobab, I had to find my ground. I became a mother, an entrepreneur, and an advocate for African artisans. I built The Seny Collection not just as a business but as a bridge a way to uplift the craftsmanship of African makers and share their artistry with the world. But building something from nothing was not easy. I faced challenges, financial struggles, and moments of profound doubt. Sometimes, I felt like bending under the weight of it all. But the baobab has taught me something powerful: Strength is not about never bending. It is about knowing you will never break.

A Life of Purpose and Passion

This journey has taught me many things: faith, perseverance, the power of resilience, and the importance of honoring one’s roots while reaching for the future.

As I prepare to return to Africa and build a future in Senegal, I carry with me the lessons of the baobab: