I think the most important thing... is leadership. It's something

When Zozibini Tunzi, crowned Miss Universe 2019, spoke the words, “I think the most important thing... is leadership. It's something that has been lacking in young women and girls for a very long time, not because we don't want to but because of what society has labeled women to be. I think we are the most powerful beings in the world and that we should be given every opportunity,” she spoke not as a contestant upon a stage, but as a voice echoing the cry of countless generations of women who have long been denied their rightful place as leaders. Her words are both a declaration and a prophecy — a call for awakening, for the rediscovery of the power that has always dwelled within the hearts of women, and for the tearing down of the chains that the world, through fear and tradition, has fastened around them.

The origin of this quote lies in Zozibini’s moment of triumph, when she stood before the world not as a symbol of beauty, but as a symbol of strength and purpose. Born in South Africa — a land that knows both oppression and rebirth — she rose to international fame not through conformity, but through authenticity. Her words were spoken from the depth of experience: from a place where young women are often told to be silent, to be soft, to stay behind. In that moment, she gave voice to those who had none, proclaiming that leadership is not a privilege bestowed by society, but a birthright of the human spirit — and that the spirit of womanhood has always been capable of leading nations, shaping cultures, and nurturing civilizations.

When Tunzi says leadership has been lacking, she does not accuse women of weakness — she accuses the world of blindness. For centuries, societies have drawn invisible lines, declaring what a woman could and could not be. They called her emotional where she was passionate, fragile where she was compassionate, and unfit where she was visionary. The world feared the power of her voice, for it could awaken others to question the balance of power itself. But Tunzi’s words remind us that this lack was never natural — it was imposed. Leadership in women was not absent by design, but suppressed by expectation. Yet no force can hold back forever what is born of truth; and now, the tide rises again.

History bears witness to this truth. When Joan of Arc, a young peasant girl, heard a divine call to lead France in battle, the world mocked her, for they could not see beyond her gender. Yet she led armies, inspired nations, and proved that leadership has no gender — only courage. When Harriet Tubman defied slavery and guided hundreds to freedom, she did not do so for glory, but for justice. And when Wangari Maathai, another daughter of Africa, planted trees to heal her land and empower her people, she showed that the quiet acts of a woman can shake empires. These are not exceptions; they are reminders. The world has always been moved forward by women who dared to lead when they were told to follow.

Tunzi’s words also strike at the heart of what leadership truly means. Leadership is not domination — it is vision, empathy, and purpose. It is the courage to step forward when others hesitate, the grace to uplift others rather than seek glory for oneself, and the wisdom to guide without oppressing. These qualities are not masculine or feminine; they are human — but for too long, they have been hidden beneath the expectations placed upon women. To lead, as Tunzi envisions it, is not merely to take power, but to embody power with purpose — to lead from love, integrity, and the fierce determination to make the world better than one found it.

Her declaration that “we are the most powerful beings in the world” is not arrogance, but awakening. It is the voice of a generation reclaiming its dignity, saying: We do not ask for permission to lead — we claim our right to do so. This power is not the force of conquest, but the power of creation, intuition, and endurance — the kind of strength that births nations, raises children, heals wounds, and rebuilds societies torn by greed and war. Tunzi’s faith in this power is a reminder that leadership is not learned — it is remembered. It is already within every woman who dares to rise, every girl who dares to dream.

The lesson of Zozibini Tunzi’s words is simple, yet profound: the world cannot reach its full strength until women do. Every society that silences half its voices cripples its own progress. The call, then, is not only to women to rise, but to men to stand beside them — to dismantle the false barriers of fear and tradition, and to build together a new order founded on equality, compassion, and shared vision. For the measure of a nation is not in the power of its men alone, but in the freedom of its women to think, to lead, to shine.

And so, let her words echo across the ages as both challenge and hope: Leadership belongs to all who dare to carry its burden with love. Let every woman see herself as capable, every girl as destined for greatness, and every society as responsible for her opportunity. For when the women of the world stand tall, the whole of humanity stands taller. And in that rising — steady, radiant, and unstoppable — lies the dawn of a more just and powerful world.