Sherbek, a third-year economics student, wanted a summer internship at a logistics company. In March he sent the same email to eleven companies. It began like this:
Hello. I am Sherbek. I am student of economics. Give me please internship in your company, I am very hard-working.
Nobody answered. After three weeks he showed it to his older sister Madina, who works in human resources at a bank. She read it once and laughed — not unkindly.
"Every word is true," she said. "But a manager gets eighty emails a day. Yours has no subject line, no name, and it gives an order. You have asked for a favour the way you would order a samsa."
That evening they rebuilt it. First, a subject line: Summer internship enquiry — economics student. Then a real name, found on the company's website, so the greeting became Dear Ms Lee. Then a first sentence that said why he was writing: I am writing to ask about summer internships in your logistics department.
The request took longest. In English, Madina explained, a polite request goes indirectly, and the past tense here is about courtesy, not time. So Give me please internship became I was wondering if you could tell me whether any places are still available. She added one more sentence: I would be grateful if you could look at the attached CV.
The ending had to match the beginning. A named person gets Kind regards or Yours sincerely — never Bye, and never nothing at all.
The new email was five sentences long, shorter than the old one. He sent it at nine the next morning, and Ms Lee replied at four. She thanked him for his clear message, invited him to an interview, and forwarded his CV to two colleagues.
He got the internship. In his first week, he helped to sort the applications for the autumn programme. On the second day he found an email that began: Hello. I am student. Give me please job.
He did not delete it. He wrote back, kindly, and attached his sister's rules.