The cybersecurity expert who proves reinvention knows no limits

Zinet Kemal’s life has been a series of audacious pivots. 

Born in Addis Ababa, she was the oldest of four children, a role that came with an immense responsibility. 

Her parents, who had faced their own professional setbacks, saw education as the only way out of poverty. 

Her mother, prioritizing an Islamic education, enrolled Zinet and her siblings in a school on the other side of the city.

Every day, a young Zinet, struggling with motion sickness, would shepherd her three younger siblings onto a crowded public bus for the long journey. 

“Looking back, I don’t know how I did it,” she says.

This early sense of duty shaped her. 

Zinet excelled in school, and when it came time for university, her family guided her toward law, a respected and stable profession. 

She earned her degree, represented her university in African and international moot court competitions, and began a career as a legal expert in a government office. 

She was on a clear, established path.

Then, in 2013, she won the diversity visa lottery. 

Seven months pregnant and with a three-year-old in tow, she and her husband moved to Minnesota, a place where they knew almost no one. 

It was January, and she had never seen snow before. Where others saw hardship, Zinet saw an adventure.

She was about to begin the first of many reinventions.

* * *

After giving birth to her second child, Zinet made a bold decision. 

She was going back to school. She enrolled at a community college in St. Paul, not in law, but in a field she had actively avoided her entire life: computer programming.

“I chose the social sciences route because I was good at history, geography, civics,” she says, explaining her decision to study law in Ethiopia. “I avoided [natural sciences] because I thought I was bad at math.”

The transition was a shock. 

In her computer science classes, she was one of the few women, and often the only Black, Muslim woman. 

Her classmates had been coding since high school; her own exposure to computers in Ethiopia was limited to a single, shared machine for 45 minutes a week. 

The imposter syndrome was immense. She had to balance her studies with the responsibilities of motherhood, caring for her young children during the day, and attending classes at night while her husband was home.

But as she pushed through the required math courses—Algebra, Discrete Math, and more—she had a realization. 

“I wasn't bad at math,” she says. “It was just like a self-elimination thing, or it was a bad teacher, or a bad experience.”

She had discovered a new strength. 

By 2018, while raising three children, she had completed her bachelor’s degree in computer science. She had reinvented herself as a technologist.

But a chance extracurricular activity was about to narrow her focus and ignite a new passion.

* * *

In her final year at Metro State University in St. Paul, Zinet joined a team for a collegiate cyber defense competition. 

For months, she and her teammates met on Saturdays, learning how to defend a network against a team of fictitious attackers. 

“That idea introduced me to the world of cybersecurity,” she says. 

The abstract world of code suddenly had a real-world, high-stakes application. She was hooked on cybersecurity.

She began networking, landing an information technology internship at Hennepin County, which turned into her first full-time job. 

She was entering a field that was even less diverse than her computer science classes. 

She moved on to work for the State of Minnesota, then to a role as a cloud security engineer at Best Buy.

Along the way, she continued her education, earning a master of science degree in cybersecurity from Georgia Tech University, further solidifying her expertise in the field. 

Most recently, she joined the Mayo Clinic as a senior cloud security engineer.

Throughout her career climb, she learned to navigate a corporate world that was often unequipped for her presence.

She had to field insensitive comments about her hijab, like the colleague who remarked, on a hot day, “It's very hot to be wearing that thing today.”

“I didn't even know how to respond,” she recalls. “I didn't forget it. It's been like almost 10 years.”

Over time, she learned that her survival in these spaces depended on her willingness to stand up for herself. 

But it was a question from her own daughter that would inspire her to take that advocacy to a whole new level.

* * *

"Why are you wearing that?" 

The question, brought home from school by her young daughters, was a familiar one. 

But this time, it sparked an idea. 

Zinet, who had never owned a children's book growing up in Ethiopia, decided to write one herself. 

She learned the entire process of self-publishing during the COVID-19 pandemic and, in 2021, released "Proud in Her Hijab," a story about a young girl who is bullied for her hijab and learns to stand up for herself. 

The book was a success, with a surprising audience. 

"The people who purchase those books are not people who wear hijab," she says. "It's usually teachers for their classrooms." 

The experience was profoundly moving. The same community library in St. Paul, where she used to take her young children for read-alouds, now had her own book on its shelves. 

She has since published two more books, including "See Yourself in Cybersecurity," to inspire young people from underrepresented communities to enter the field, and "Oh, No ... Hacked Again!" to protect them once they're online.

The second book emerged from a parent's worst nightmare, her own children were hacked and nearly groomed by online predators while gaming. 

This violation transformed her cybersecurity expertise from professional duty into personal mission. The experience became the foundation for her TEDx Talk, where she revealed a shocking statistic: millions of children face these same digital dangers, yet less than half of K-12 students receive any relevant cybersecurity education.

In her talk, she exposes the hidden threats lurking in everyday online activities, from oversharing personal information to cyberbullying to "sharenting," where well-meaning parents unknowingly put their children at risk by sharing too much of their lives online. 

Rather than advocating for digital restrictions, she champions education as empowerment, urging parents, educators, and policymakers to foster open dialogue and formal cybersecurity education for children.

Through her books and speaking, she realized that her presence in these non-diverse spaces was not just about her own career; it was about paving a path for others. 

"The more we show up," she says, "is how we're gonna do our part to make it less painful for our children." 

But as a mother of four with a demanding career, this level of output required a different kind of superpower: a mastery of time.

* * * 

"You can be a mom, and you can be a professional if you choose to pursue that dream," Zinet says.

For her, it's been about constantly balancing ambition with the non-negotiable needs of family. 

Recently, that balance was put to the ultimate test when an interview opportunity came from Amazon, a career-defining role.

She discussed the possibility with her nine-year-old daughter, whose response was immediate and clear.

"'That does not mean we don't see you at home when we come from school,'" Zinet recalls her daughter saying. "'Then it's not worth it.'"

In that moment, Zinet declined the opportunity, a choice she wants other Muslim women to feel empowered to make.

She urges them to reject the idea that they must choose between being a mother and a professional. 

"You can be so many things in different phases of your life," she insists. "Prioritize what works for you and for your household."

This ability to juggle a demanding career, a family of six, and authoring multiple books is fueled by a relentless approach to time management. 

Her strategy is simple: do not procrastinate.

“If I have an idea to do something, I don't put it off for tomorrow," she says. "I have to get started right away."

This practical discipline is rooted in a deep understanding that our time is finite.

"Regardless of whether you do something good or not, time is going to fly regardless," she says.

But her most crucial piece of advice goes beyond managing a schedule.

It is about managing your own worth.

The courage to make such bold, value-driven decisions, whether it's pursuing a new career in a new country or turning down a job interview at Amazon, is an act of profound self-advocacy.

This, she believes, is also an act of service.

"Be proud of your identities and show up," she advises. "If you need to prioritize your salah time, prioritize that."

By showing up authentically, we normalize our presence and make the path easier for the next generation.

"You are your own best advocate," she says. "No one will be. And if you know your worth, I think you can always advocate for yourself."