Sahiza Hossenbaccus was about to walk into an interview a few years ago for a controller position, and she was terrified. 

The man on the other side of the desk knew her from a time before she wore the hijab. 

Now, a headscarf framed her face, a visible declaration of her faith in a corporate world that often preferred none.

Every doubt swirled in her mind. What is he going to say?

She could have rationalized it, told herself it was a strategic choice to get her foot in the door.

Instead, she put her trust in her faith.

She walked in. The interview began. The man spoke to her, listened to her, and engaged with her expertise, his gaze never wavering. He saw a professional.

“It’s as if Allah allowed the interviewer to look beyond the headscarf,” she recalls, “and focus on the potential contribution of this hire to the company.”

It was a moment that solidified her identity as a Muslim professional in the West. 

But how does a woman from a tropical island, raised in the multicultural hum of the Indian Ocean, develop the unshakeable grit required to climb the corporate ladder in North America?

The answer begins with the smell of rubber tires and the clinking of coins in a cashbox.

* * * 

Sahiza grew up on the beautiful island of Mauritius, a place where mosques, churches, and temples coexist with ease. Her world was a fusion of cultures and faiths. 

Her friends were of Chinese and African descent; she volunteered at the library of a 400-year-old Catholic church across the street from her home. 

This upbringing taught her to see past cultural and religious lines and simply connect with diverse people.

From her family, she learned the value of work. Her father, who once picked up cans to help feed his six siblings, instilled in her a core principle: what you put in is what you get out. 

As a young girl, she spent her summers working as a cashier in her family’s bicycle shop, the first spark of an interest in accounting that would define her professional life.

She pursued that interest with relentless drive, earning her accounting qualifications in the UK before returning to Mauritius. 

There, she joined Arthur Andersen Consulting, where a seemingly minor assignment would change her future. She was tasked with mastering Sage, an accounting software. Her job was to sit with a company’s top financial leaders, understand their needs, and then build the software to match.

It was a skill that would soon become her lifeline.

In 2002, she and her husband made a life-altering decision. 

With their four-year-old daughter, they left behind successful careers and comfortable lives for the vast unknown of Canada. 

The move was about the opportunity for the next generation.

They packed their lives into a few suitcases and boarded a plane. That decision would test every lesson she had ever learned.

* * * 

The Canadian dream started as a Canadian struggle. Her husband was jobless for six months, and Sahiza was pregnant with their second child. But the expertise she had gained in Sage accounting software proved to be a rare and valuable asset in North America. Within two weeks, she had a job.

That first foothold was all she needed.

The work ethic her father had taught her kicked into overdrive. While on maternity leave with a toddler and a newborn, she studied for and earned her certified professional accountant (CPA) designation. 

Later, while working full-time and raising three daughters, she completed her MBA.

This intense professional drive was built on a family pact. She and her husband agreed that only one of them would take on a high-flying job at a time, a rule that ensured one parent was always present and available for their daughters.

Eight years ago, that pact allowed her to drive through a snowstorm for an interview at SnapCab, a company in Kingston, Ontario, that manufactures modular office pods and custom elevator interiors. 

The move from finance to operations, into a male-dominated industry, was another leap into the unknown. 

For Sahiza, the unfamiliar was exciting.

“Growth necessitates discomfort,” she says. “You will not grow if you don’t get uncomfortable.”

She started as chief financial officer, but her curiosity and drive quickly propelled her forward. 

She was soon promoted to general manager, overseeing a factory floor where she was one of only two women at the time. 

While the kind culture at SnapCab made her feel at home, she understood that being a visible Muslim always comes with challenges. 

A woman in a hijab, with a background in finance, stepping in to run a manufacturing company was one of them.

* * * 

For Sahiza, her halal diet is a non-negotiable part of her faith. This principle constantly intersects with her professional life, especially when traveling for work or at company events. 

To handle these moments, Sahiza always returned to the simple rule she uses to lead her team: “There’s no business without people, and no connection without trust.”

This was put to the test at SnapCab’s monthly barbecue. 

As the only Muslim on a team of 35 at the time, the company grill wasn't an option for her due to her concern about cross-contamination. She was confident the company would accommodate her if she asked, but she also saw a deeper choice. 

To her, building trust had to come first. Asking a group to change its routine for one person, before those bonds were formed, felt like leading with a demand instead of a connection.

So, she made a choice that reflected her “push and pull” philosophy.

Instead of making a formal request, she would gently deflect when asked the reason why she wasn’t eating. This allowed her to fully participate in the social gathering and build connections without making her dietary needs the focus.

It was an act of strategic patience, an investment in the human relationships she valued so highly.

As Sahiza became an integral part of the company, the culture of trust she helped foster began to bear fruit. 

Other Muslims joined the team. The need for halal food was no longer an abstract accommodation but a shared reality.

The change, when it came, felt natural and organic. The company bought a separate grill specifically for halal cooking. 

Now, at every barbecue, there are halal burgers alongside the regular ones.

Her husband later reflected on the outcome: “You’ve had patience, you didn’t compromise, and this is what happened.”

* * * 

Today, as the President of SnapCab, overseeing facilities in both Canada and the United States, Sahiza’s advice to young professionals is rooted in the faith that has guided her journey. It starts with an unshakeable belief in oneself.

“If Allah has called you to do something, it’s because He believes you have the ability to do it,” she says. That confidence, she explains, is what allows your work to speak for itself.

She insists that this self-belief must be paired with continuous learning and a commitment to finding mentors who can both uplift and challenge you. 

Above all, she urges young professionals to lead with empathy and a willingness to educate. 

When a new professional group she joined sent her a bottle of wine as a welcome gift, she saw an opportunity. She called them.

“I think it’s important for you to understand your market,” she told them, explaining that to attract a diversity of leaders, they needed to be aware of their members' values. 

She did her part, she says, to make it better for the next Muslim who joins.

Looking back, she never imagined she would reach this position. The journey, with all its tests, has been a testament to a simple truth.

“If Allah has a plan for you, nobody can prevent that from happening,” she says. “The foundation should be solid faith, and everything is built on that. That will be your guiding light.”

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