I want to tell you about a woman – let’s call her Aida – who taught me what real leadership looks like. For 10 years, I had the privilege of working under her guidance, watching as she navigated the complexities of our company with a rare combination of sharp intellect and quiet determination. She wasn’t the type to seek the spotlight, but her work spoke volumes – projects completed ahead of schedule, crises averted through careful planning, teams motivated not by empty pep talks but by her own relentless work ethic.
Then came the storm. The company suddenly fired her boss, leaving behind a trail of poor decisions that threatened to sink the share company. The board turned to Aida, appointing her as acting commercial manager in what many saw as a temporary measure until they could find a “proper” replacement. What happened next should have rewritten her career trajectory. In just nine months, she accomplished what the board had thought impossible – she stabilized the company’s finances, restored confidence among key clients, and set the share company back on a path to profitability.
We all watched in awe as Aida worked miracles. She rebuilt relationships with shareholders and corporate clients that had soured under previous leadership. Most importantly, she restored a sense of pride and purpose among employees who had been demoralized by months of uncertainty. The numbers didn’t lie – under her stewardship, the company went from bleeding cash to posting its healthiest quarterly results.
Then came the gut punch. Rather than rewarding her extraordinary performance with the permanent position, the board announced they had hired an external candidate – someone with flashy credentials but none of Aida’s intimate knowledge of our company’s unique challenges and culture. Overnight, the woman who had saved the institution found herself demoted, expected to train her replacement and quietly return to her previous role as if nothing had happened.
What struck me most was how Aida handled this betrayal of trust. Without complaint, she briefed the new manager on every critical issue. She introduced him to key clients. She even helped draft his first strategic plan – the same type of plan that had been so successful under her leadership. Her professionalism never wavered, even as she was essentially forced to make her own sidelining as seamless as possible for the organization.
This isn’t just Aida’s story. It is the story of countless professionals who give their all to organizations that never give back in equal measure. We live in a corporate world that pays lip service to meritocracy while quietly operating on a different set of rules – where connections often trump capability, where style frequently outweighs substance, and where the people who actually do the work are routinely overlooked in favor of those who simply know how to play the game.
I have thought often about why Aida’s story bothers me so much. It is not just the injustice of seeing someone so capable passed over. It is the message it sends to everyone watching – that loyalty and hard work are ultimately liabilities in a system that rewards self-promotion over actual results. When teams see their most competent leaders overlooked, it breeds a quiet cynicism that no amount of corporate pep talks can overcome.
What makes Aida’s case particularly painful is how preventable it was. The board had all the evidence they needed right in front of them – clear metrics showing her success, glowing feedback from clients and staff alike, tangible results that spoke louder than any resume bullet point. Yet, they chose to ignore it all in favor of the safe choice, the conventional choice, the choice that wouldn’t rock the boat.
There is a particular cruelty in how we treat our workplace heroes. We lean on them in times of crisis, praise their dedication when we need it most, then return to business as usual once the storm has passed. We take their competence for granted while chasing after shinier, more conventional options. And we wonder why employee engagement suffers, why turnover rises, why so many organizations struggle to retain their best talent.
Aida still leads by example in ways both large and small. The company continues to benefit from her wisdom and work ethic, even as it fails to properly recognize either. There is a quiet tragedy in watching someone so talented remain so undervalued, a reminder that the corporate world often fails its most dedicated servants.
To all the Aidas out there – the professionals who show up day after day, who deliver exceptional work without fanfare, who get passed over for promotions they have clearly earned – know this: Your worth is not defined by titles or organizational charts. The people who actually work with you, who see your contributions firsthand, we know the truth. We see the late nights and early mornings, the problems you solve before most people even notice them, the way you make everyone around you better at their jobs.
The real failure here isn’t Aida’s – it belongs to a system that cannot recognize true leadership when it sees it. A system that prizes pedigree over performance. A system that would rather bring in an outsider than reward the person who has already proven they can do the job.
Perhaps one day organizations will learn that real talent often comes without fanfare, that the best leaders aren’t always the ones who look the part but the ones who do the work. Until then, the Aidas of the world will keep showing up, keep excelling, keep being the backbone of institutions that don’t deserve them.
William Brooks is a freelance consultant with interests in business and politics in East Africa. He can be reached at [email protected]
Contributed by William Brooks
