Journey with Della

“Leadership and followership are two sides of the same coin”

Ira Chaleff

When you find yourself in a context like mine after completing a terminal degree in leadership, it is hard to not think about what effective leadership entails. So, I have been thinking about that. A lot. For the most part, I have asked myself more times than I can remember what effective leadership looks like in the current circumstances. If Chaleff is right, and I believe he is, then the health of any institution, organization, nation, etc. is determined as much by followership as it is by its leadership. It might not be to the same degree, but nonetheless. Am I, therefore, suggesting that the situation in Cameroon should be equally blamed on its citizens as it is its leaders?

You see, Chaleff’s assertion, as valid as it might be, can be further clarified by something another scholar said.

“The failure of many African leaders to harness the growing divergence of followership is responded to by dictatorship. That ceases to be leadership, because followership should be voluntary; coerced followership is not leadership but dictatorship.”

Larry Jowah

It is no secret that ours is a less than ideal context where, night and day, the hearts of followers groan in the light of mishaps against which they are completely helpless. Besides being completely heart rent by this tango that feels more like a trap than an opportunity, followers in Cameroon are most often plagued by utter helplessness, fear, and despair because their voices don’t mean much to those in whose hands the power to move things forward lie.

You see, I am not one who likes the feeling of helplessness. I like to think that I can make a difference in the world, influence powers for the better, trigger movements that would lead to transformation and ultimately, better living standards for any and all whose paths cross mine. So, for a while, I thought and still think, albeit grandiosely, that I could/can do the same for my beloved nation. Needless to recount the many encounters I have had in which different people have expressed their version of first “how can you be thinking about going back to Cameroon when everyone is looking for a way to get out?” and later “do you really mean that you plan on staying here long term?”

I have learned, in the few months that I have been back home that everyone who shares these opinions actually means well and desires to see me safe. At the same time, being here in this moment, in this season, is something I know beyond the shadow of a doubt and while honesty beckons me confess my frustration with the status quo and utter disappointment at the abuse of power by leaders in the different echelons of a society that is groaning for release, careful thought highlights key threads.

1. In a context like ours, the uphill task of making a difference in the lives of those who need it the most lies in the hands of the few who refuse to let these pressures overwhelm and cripple them. When you live in a society where a new norm characterized by all that you never imagined possible is scrambling its way to the top, it is easy for your discomfort with the “wrong” to get snuffed out by the weight of the troubles as your heart and mind strive to survive. While coping is a divine human defense mechanism for times like these, acclimating to this new “normal” empties us of the capacity to do something about it. SO, true (follower) leaders defy the odds, choosing instead to believe that their efforts count even if they only matter to a minority of one.
2. In a context like ours, taking a break from it all is a luxury that can’t be afforded by any seeking to make a difference. On more than one occasion, I have yearned for, and in fact given myself, a leave of absence. I will go away from it all and just forget it for a while. I can’t deal with any of it much longer, I would think to myself. And while I have indeed been away physically, I found that I wasn’t capable of not being in it mentally. The time away taught me that, in addition to hindsight, distance equally sharpens perspective. Consequently, rather than turn to numbing to keep me from “dealing with it,” I have intentionally engaged with it from a distance, and in so doing, have gained more clarity than I imagined possible.
3. In a context like ours, it takes even more courage to make a difference as a “follower.” One of the frustrating realities about trying to lead in such contexts arises from the constraints imposed by the lack of positional authority. On more occasion than I can count, my utterance of the phrase “if only I …” has ended with wishes for positional power that could scale up the impact our little contribution is making. There are different ways of circumventing such constraints, no doubt, but it is also no exaggeration to state that sometimes some of them either fail completely at worst or only yield mediocre results at best. And ofttimes, my grandiose desires seem too farfetched to even keep going. Yet it is in these very same times when the courage they say I have seems miserably insufficient that I know I must summon even more courage to dust myself up, refocus, and take one more step. Thus summoning more courage, I push forward believing that tomorrow will be better and the efforts we are putting in today will count for one more person.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Nelson Mandela couldn’t have been more on point when he said this. Bravery and fear are perpetual roommates and one cannot thrive without the other. In recent weeks, I have fallen in love with Theodore Roosevelt’s Citizen in the Republic, aka The Man in the Arena speech since I started reading Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly (I strongly recommend it!). Let me end this post with the following excerpt from that speech which keeps it all in perspective for me. You can read the full speech here.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt (emphasis mine)

Words like these bring a smile to my lips amidst it all. To see that we are surrounded by such a cloud of great minds whose wisdom is available to guide our weary steps! Astounding!!!

In my next post, I will continue with my leadership musings, focusing specifically on what it means to be salt (and light) at a time like this. (#churchgirl) But until then, please step into the arena. Get your face marred by dust and sweat and blood. Strive valiantly. Err. Come short again and again. Cry. Weep. Grief. Do whatever else you need to do. But whatever you do, DO NOT GET OUT OF THE ARENA. The credit for the little changes belongs to you. It requires courage and you have more of it than you realize.

I can’t speak for tomorrow but let’s make today count!