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Thelma Zindoga took an unconventional path into Biglaw—and an intentional path out. Today, she’s an employment lawyer working fractionally with in-house teams. Zak Biggs sat down with her to talk creative persistence and career design.

ZB: You trained in South Africa and ended up at a Canadian Biglaw firm. How did you get in the door?

TZ: I didn’t, at first. I’d applied to firms the traditional way, and the answer was always: “We don’t take NCA students.” So I went in through a side door. I started as a legal assistant, became a paralegal, and ended up at Fasken working on a big case alongside a lawyer who eventually recommended me for an articling position there. That’s how I got in. It was creative persistence more than anything else.

ZB: You’d fought hard to get into Biglaw. What made you decide to leave?

TZ: Balance, mostly. I’d done the Biglaw journey, and I felt fulfilled having done it, but it stopped being in balance with the rest of my life. I’m an employment lawyer—I spend my days thinking about how people show up at work and what they need to thrive. I had to be honest about whether I was practicing what I was preaching.

ZB: What does your practice look like today?

TZ: It ebbs and flows—somewhere around 20 to 30 hours a week, which is good for balance. Right now, I’ve got a few fractional �鶹��Ƶ clients plus a steady flow of other mandates.

ZB: What do HR leaders get from a fractional employment lawyer that they don’t get from a traditional firm?

TZ: Undivided attention. In Biglaw, I was juggling probably eight to ten times more clients than I am now—switching gears constantly, always reactive, always called in at the end when something had already blown up. As fractional counsel, I’m part of the team even on the quiet days. I see things forming before they become problems.

ZB: You’re part of a pretty intentional lawyer book club. How does that fit into the way you think about growth and connection in your career?

TZ: It’s a monthly, all-women lawyer book club—and yes, it’s registered for CPD credits with the law society. Three strikes and you’re out, and we’re at capacity with a waitlist.

We read business development and practice management books—the kind of stuff that pushes you to think like a business owner, not just a lawyer.

For me, it’s also about being intentional with how I grow and who I surround myself with. It creates space for real connection and honest conversations you don’t always get in day-to-day work. And it’s wine, food, and female lawyer talk—which is its own kind of professional development.