Direct Don’t Do.

My apologies for not sending you a story last week, folks. I had zero bandwidth as I worked hard to get to ‘zero potential’ (in the context of the previous story I posted here). It was finally tournament week for the Magical Kenya Open. All the work and preparation we had undertaken over several weeks was going to show between 19^th and 22^nd February. I felt as though we had been building a ship in the shipyard for a long time, and now it was time to launch it into the sea for the ultimate test.

My competencies were almost stretched to the limit last week. It’s been a steep learning curve, this being one of the biggest assignments of my leadership journey. I have learnt many lessons on leadership, which I would like to share over the next week or two.

When I first started as Tournament Director, I knew it would be a lot of work; however, I overlooked the fact that the role required directing more than doing. Being a jua kali guy with an events background, my default was to do the heavy lifting and assist everyone who came to me. Those requests came fast and furious, and they did not let up. Even now, after the event, I am still being called to resolve issues—many of which fall outside the scope of my position.

Being Lucas, I found myself involved in determining who would play in the juniors’ tournament, how to remove a truck stuck on the golf course, where to pitch tents, and which guard should be positioned where. I quickly discovered that I had become the poster boy of Kenya Open; I became the go-to guy for everyone’s needs. Everyone took advantage of my availability. That was a perception I had to kill very quickly if I was to successfully oversee the overall event to its conclusion.

As I look back, I can see instances where I should have left others to tackle some crises, both real and imaginary. While I meant well, my approach was neither sustainable nor practical. I would simply have ended up burnt-out. As a leader, you don’t have to respond to every message, call, or email. Sometimes, not responding is a response in itself, depending on the issue at hand and its magnitude.

My pal and fellow Board Director helped me realise something else. While I was busy assisting everyone and playing the ‘super-director’, I risked disenfranchising my colleagues, who also had vital roles to play. I had likely begun doing other people’s work unknowingly, and my pal cared enough to let me know. I wondered whether others had taken offence, or perhaps just sat back and let me do their work. I had to disentangle myself from certain specifics where I had gone unnecessarily deep.

It helps to adopt a hands-off but eyes-on approach to leadership. While leading passionately is good, it can blind us to the negative effects our well-meaning efforts have on others. We risk being viewed as know-it-alls and show-offs, or even worse, portraying our team members as incompetent. Leadership is an area where we can make enemies without even being aware of it.

My pal, who made me aware of this, is a true friend. As the saying goes, what hurts more is not the criticism of our enemies but the silence of our friends. The lesson here is to have a few trusted folks nearby who can hold up a mirror for you. And when you don’t like what you see, they help you improve. We may often dislike what we hear; nevertheless, we have to swallow it like those bitter vegetables our mums fed us, knowing the taste is horrible, but the benefits are sweeter for our health.

Handovers are overrated. Do you agree, hehe? The previous Tournament Director held the post for a long time. He is a larger-than-life personality and a corporate titan, especially in Board governance. You can imagine that pressure.   We are often under pressure to fit into our predecessor’s shoes, but rarely do we consider that we might simply be wearing a different size. To try and walk in someone else’s shoes is to invite a stumble.’ Fortunately, I learned from the outset to step into the role in my own shoes. They fit well, and I’m glad I did kwanza considering the 20,000 steps I averaged daily, hehe.

My predecessor, who is now Chairman of the board at Kenya Open Golf Limited, is a big-picture guy. He has grand visions of best practices and how things should evolve. He lives in the future, in my view. I’m a bit like that myself, so I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t have a handover file with all the information I needed to be a successful Tournament Director. I’m glad he declared that from our first chat in this position, so expectations were managed. His has been handover-on-the-go since I took over. I rather like this version of handover because it is piecemeal. Let’s call it just-in-time handover. Whenever I needed guidance on a particular issue, he provided it, allowing me to handle whatever else came my way until I encountered the next challenge.

This piecemeal type of handing over is good because it gives me space to grow into the role as Lucas, not as a carbon copy of someone else. At the same time, it keeps my guide close enough to alert me when I’m heading into a ditch. Furthermore, if I had known exactly what this role entailed, I probably would have hesitated to take it. So, ignorance can sometimes be both blissful and beneficial, hehe.

I’m slowly learning that the best way to lead well is to learn in your own language/personality. Do things based on how you are wired, even as you learn from others. We are unique individuals who apply the same lessons differently. That’s what adds colour to our leadership styles, provided we achieve our goals and deliver. It’s hard to try to be someone else and be effective at the same time. That’s why many copies are fakes.

When we bring our authenticity to the roles we take, it’s like adding Aromat to food. It tastes better—and our leadership tastes sweeter to those who experience it. Next week, I’ll share more on mambo kwa ground, where the true test of leadership counts.