The best mentoring relationships I’ve witnessed have something in common. They’re not formal. They’re not structured by an organisation or defined in a job description. They happen because someone sees something in someone else and decides to invest.
I know of a mentor in Nairobi who worked with a young woman for three years. He never sat down with a mentoring plan. He never filled out a mentoring form or attended a mentoring training. He just showed up. He asked how she was doing. He introduced her to people who could expand her thinking. He asked her hard questions about where she wanted to go. He believed in her even when she doubted herself.
By the end, she was transformed. Not because he taught her anything specific. Not because he gave her the right advice at the right time. But because he created the relational space where she could grow.
Kathy Kram’s research on mentoring relationships identifies two key functions that effective mentors provide. The career functions include sponsorship, which means advocating for your advancement and visibility. Coaching, which means teaching skills and knowledge. Protection, which means giving you room to fail safely without exposure. And exposure, which means introducing you to opportunities and important people. These functions matter. They give people access they wouldn’t otherwise have. They accelerate development.
But here’s what’s crucial: these career functions alone don’t create transformation. People can receive all of these things and still not change fundamentally.
What creates transformation is what Kram calls the psychosocial functions of mentoring. Role modelling, where the mentor demonstrates who you can become and how to show up in the world. Acceptance and confirmation, where someone sees you completely and tells you that you’re capable and worthy. Counselling, where someone helps you think through your struggles and dilemmas. Friendship, where the relationship moves beyond transactional to genuinely relational.
These happen in the spaces between formal meetings. In conversations where someone actually listens to who you are, not just what you produce. In moments when someone notices something about you that you don’t see about yourself yet. In exchanges where someone believes in your potential before you do.
Jean Rhodes, in her research on relational mentoring, emphasises that the mentoring relationship itself is the intervention. It’s not about the mentor’s expertise. It’s about the quality of the relationship. The consistency. The genuine interest. The belief that the person is capable of becoming more.
She writes: Mentoring relationships are fundamentally dependent on the quality of the relational foundation. Research shows that mentees who report high quality relationships with their mentors demonstrate greater benefits across multiple outcomes than those in less cohesive relationships.
Here’s what that looks like in practice.
A real mentor listens more than they speak. They ask questions that make you think rather than answer questions for you. They notice things about you that you don’t see about yourself yet. They introduce you to people and opportunities. They challenge you when you’re playing small and support you when you’re reaching. They’re honest about your gaps and your blind spots, but never in a way that diminishes you.
Most importantly, they show up. Consistently. Over time. They don’t mentor you because it’s their job or because it’s on their performance review. They mentor you because they’ve decided your growth matters. Because they’ve invested in the relationship enough that your becoming is meaningful to them.
That consistency is crucial. Because growth doesn’t happen in one conversation. It happens over months and years. Through showing up. Through investment. Through being seen by someone who believes in your becoming.
The mentoring relationships people treasure are the ones where someone they respected decided they were worth their time. Decided to see them. Decided to invest.
I know of a woman who had a mentor for five years. They never formalised it. She would call him when she was facing a decision. He would ask her questions instead of telling her what to do. He introduced her to people who challenged her thinking. He celebrated her wins and helped her make sense of her failures.
Years later, when they rarely spoke, she still carried his voice in her head. When she faced challenges, she could hear his questions. When she doubted herself, she could remember that he believed in her. That’s the impact of mentoring. It becomes part of how you think about yourself.
If you’re looking for that kind of mentoring, look for someone whose life and choices you want to learn from. Someone whose thinking you respect. Someone who’s willing to be honest with you about what they see. Then ask them. Tell them what you’re trying to become. Tell them where you’re stuck. Ask if they’d be willing to help you think about it.
And if you’re in a position to mentor someone, consider this: Who are you noticing? Who’s coming up behind you who you’d like to see grow? What would it look like to invest in them? Not formally. Not in a structured programme. But actually. Consistently. Over time.
That investment is one of the most meaningful things you can do. Because people don’t forget who believed in them. They don’t forget who invested in their becoming. That changes them in ways that last. (Deng & Turner, 2024; Feng et al., 2024; Ivey & Dupré, 2022; Kram, 1985; Rhodes, 2008).
The Mentoring Relationship That Actually Transforms People
