Mentorship must ‘stir a man to greater strength and put courage in his heart.’

“No longer, Telemachus, will you be foolish or weak,
if the bold courage of your father has taken root in your heart—
the same courage with which he fought and spoke.
Then your journey will not fail, nor will it be in vain.”

These words, from the second book of Homer’s Odyssey (in Toma Maretić’s famed translation), are spoken by Mentor—Odysseus’ old friend—to the hero’s son, Telemachus. Before setting sail, Odysseus entrusted Mentor with “his whole household, to guard all things steadfastly.” But he also gave him something far more precious: his son. Mentor’s task was to embolden the boy, to guide him on a heroic path, to be a second father.

And 2,800 years later, this remains one of the purest definitions of mentorship. Odysseus was gone for two decades, yet his trust was so absolute that a single name became synonymous with an entire noble calling. Mentorship is crucial for anyone striving to advance—not just in their career, but in life itself.

Why Mentorship Wins

Over two-thirds of Fortune 500 companies have mentorship programs. Their employees are five times more likely to get promoted, and long-term retention jumps by 20%. For millennials, the numbers are even starker: half are more likely to stay past five years if their company offers strong mentorship (Deloitte Millennial Survey, 2016).

And it’s not just for beginners. A Harvard Business Review study (Suzanne de Janasz & Maury Peiperl) found that 84% of U.S. CEOs credit mentors with helping them avoid costly mistakes, while 69% say they make better decisions because of them.

Serbia’s Mentorship Stars

Even here, we have standout programs. Two of the best—run by the American Chamber of Commerce and the Serbian Association of Managers (SAM)—target young managers and final-year business students. Hundreds have passed through these programs, gaining skills, networks, and market savvy from mentors they’d otherwise never access: tech experts, corporate leaders, communication gurus. Recently, SAM even opened mentorship to exceptional entrepreneurs and startup founders—a chance the first two cohorts seized eagerly. Combined, these programs have reached nearly 500 young talents and seasoned professionals.

The Catch: Mentorship Isn’t About Numbers

But mentorship is more than metrics. Take The Odyssey itself: by the time the epic really gets going, Mentor has already failed. Odysseus’ house is overrun by Penelope’s suitors, the storerooms are looted, Telemachus flees by sea, and Mentor? Nowhere to be found. So why, then, do we name this role after such a lackluster figure?

The answer hides in the text: “Athena took Mentor’s form, his voice, his very frame.” Though Mentor had the credentials—age, wisdom, noble birth—it was Athena, goddess of wisdom, disguised as him, who truly stirred Telemachus’ courage.

The Real Lesson

Being a mentor isn’t about titles or experience. It’s about becoming the vessel—the “Athena”—who helps someone discover their own menos (heroic strength), shatter their self-imposed limits, and find courage they didn’t know they had. As Athena herself says, mentorship exists to “stir a man to greater strength and put courage in his heart.”

So—who’s your Athena? And whose will you be?

21October2019

Not many people I know dislike Facebook’s Memories feature. Partly because, let’s face it, we’re suckers for nostalgia—we love seeing where we were and what we were doing with people we care about. But also because it’s a brutally honest archive of how our own attitudes and public persona have evolved over time. Facebook has logged every step of my career: back in 2008, when I first made my account, I was an eager directing school grad, full of activist defiance, bouncing around in vans and crossing regional borders, torn between wanting to do everything right then and there and build something concrete in my field. It wasn’t easy. “A disheveled director with a radio show”—that’s how someone described me back then.

How do we know, when we walk into a room, that people recognize us? And more importantly—is it for what we want to be known, or just what our career has thrown at us? We’re talking, of course, about personal branding. Like any brand, this one has its visible form—name, job title, first impression—but also the subtler layers of meaning and emotion that flash in people’s minds when they hear about you.

The advice for building a personal brand is well-known but not always easy to follow. “Be authentic, consistent, and tell your story,” writes Goldie Chan for Forbes. People spot insincerity fast, so it’s best to start honest from the jump. Of course, that doesn’t mean much if your name isn’t built on solid ground. Expertise in your field, sharp focus on where you want to be recognized, and ruthless selectivity about the opportunities you take—those are non-negotiable.

When it comes to corporate social responsibility (CSR), being known in this space isn’t just about picking the right cause—it’s about approach. Are we investing company money and resources because that’s just what you do, or are we going further because we want CSR to be part of our personal brand? In an internal survey from three years ago—conducted for a major corporate program supporting creatives and activists, designed by my team—nearly 60% of participants ranked mentorship as the most valuable part. (Multiple answers were allowed, so presenting their work to a wider community mattered to over half, while almost 40% said meeting like-minded peers was crucial.) Dead last, at under 10%, was the financial support—which, in this case, wasn’t small (around €5,000 per idea).

Realizing that knowledge is the key—and that sharing it actively shapes how you’re seen—was a game-changer for me and my team. It gave us the confidence to push companies to give more than just money: to invest their employees’ expertise and inspire creativity in the communities they engage with. People in these programs became genuine ambassadors for the brands that supported them. Together with corporate partners, we tested this strategy once, then again, then dozens of times—first in one country, then many. Each time, we dissected the results and learned as fast as we could. And we didn’t stop.

For every ten opportunities my team and I could take, we’ve been choosing just two or three for years now. “Innovation,” “knowledge and mentorship,” “CSR,” “social impact campaigns,” “relentless,” “regional”—these are the phrases we now hear from collaborators describing us. A far cry from activist radio shows and gritty films—and yet, to me at least, it feels like a natural progression. When I open Memories in 2029, what impressions will dominate then? No idea. Will these current ones just be wistful relics, replaced by something entirely new? That’s the only thing I’m sure of.

Running a business is tough, but the real Sisyphean struggle in the 21st century is finding good job candidates—and, even harder, keeping great employees.

Who still remembers Lutajuća Srca (Wandering Hearts), the Yugoslav acoustic band from Niš? In the ’70s, Dženan Salković wrote them an exotic-nostalgic love song, “Jefimija,” inspired by medieval Serbian motifs. They toured a bit with Kemal Monteno and Čola, scored a sweet little hit with “Još Malo,” dabbled in covers of The Who and Free, and even represented Yugoslavia at the pan-socialist Youth Festival in East Berlin. A little bit of everything. They lasted about a decade, cycled through a singer or two, and by the early ’80s—each went their separate way.

All that’s left of Lutajuća Srca is a faint memory and a few smooth notes only a true connoisseur would recognize.

There are plenty of “wandering hearts” in business, too. They’re only talked about in passing—at receptions, after meetings, in elevator small talk. Running a business is hard, but in this late stage of the 21st century, finding good talent feels like rolling a boulder up a hill, and keeping top employees might be even harder. Every business owner thinks it’s their problem alone, one that will somehow resolve itself. But it won’t.

Because this is the millennial generation—people born between 1985 and 2000. Older folks accuse them of “doing nothing all day,” of “loafing around,” of “not knowing what they want,” let alone how to achieve it. Yet, at the same time, this is the generation leaving the country daily in search of a better life. And ultimately, these are the same people who—if exceptionally bold and focused—are already running their own ventures. They’re slowly climbing into key roles (not just entry-level ones), with some already angling for decision-making positions. These people now dominate the labor market. And it’s only in this last category that we, as employers, can hope to find exceptional future colleagues.

But here’s the catch: where real opportunities are scarce, every chance can seem like the chance to a capable young person. I’ve met many bright, educated millennials whose only “job” is chasing the next master’s degree, exchange program, Ph.D., postdoc, conference, or seminar. They’re everywhere—constantly networking, improving, exchanging ideas, opinions, perspectives. And then, suddenly, youth slips away! When the time finally comes for these brilliant young minds to settle into work, their pre-career cycle repeats itself on the job, creating “career wandering hearts.” They’re drawn to creativity—or maybe project management. They want leadership—but without accountability. They crave making a social impact—but also demand higher pay. They network relentlessly—yet remain hyper-focused on themselves, blind to anything beyond immediate (non-)opportunities.

No wonder four out of five start job-hunting immediately, according to “Most Desirable Employer” research by Serbia’s poslovi.infostud.com—one of the few studies on this topic. Once they land that new job, they want stability and great workplace relationships—but above all, flexible hours. Throw in private health insurance and a salary over 1,400 KM, if possible. And then? Eighty percent are still thinking about switching jobs again. The cycle never ends.

Are scholarships the answer, or do they just fuel this endless carousel? The Hastor Foundation, a private initiative by ASA Prevent (one of our largest companies), awarded scholarships to nearly 2,000 exceptional young people this year alone. Smaller but still impressive numbers come from BBI Bank’s owners, the diaspora-led Bosana Foundation, government programs, and others.

But what happens to all these scholarship recipients? Can we, as businesses and employers, help them structure and direct their careers so they can light the way for others? Can we ensure that the impact of the new business generations we’re shaping isn’t just a few fleeting notes—another echo of “wandering hearts”? The examples are around us, in BiH and the region—we’ve even mentioned some. But how? What strategy and tactics will work?

Stay tuned for the next issues of Biznis Plus to find out.