“Leaders who build ladders outlast those who guard doors.”
I’ve been holding this one for a while — but today, I need to say it out loud.
There’s something about watching someone misuse a position of leadership that stirs fire in me. It’s the kind of fire that burns through silence. That shakes you awake with the reminder that leadership isn’t just about titles, chairs, or call times — it’s about people.
I didn’t expect to feel this angry. But here I am — sitting with a knot in my chest, thinking about a man in a leadership position who doesn’t understand what leadership really means.
I’ve been watching him — not in judgment, but with curiosity at first. I saw him get promoted. Head of department A big title. A new seat at the table. And naturally, I waited to see what he’d do with it.
What I saw instead was deeply disappointing.
Every opportunity that came his way stopped right at his level. Meetings? He attended alone. Big decisions? Made in isolation. Visibility? All his. His plate kept getting fuller, and not once — not once — did he seem to look back and say, “Who can I bring along with me?”
At first, I tried to reason with it. Maybe he’s overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn’t know how. Maybe he’s just figuring things out. But over time, the pattern became clear: this wasn’t about oversight. This was a choice.
So, I said something. I raised my concerns with him — respectfully, from a place of wanting to see the team grow
I voiced my thoughts. I said, “Why not bring someone from your team along next time, you attend such meetings or give that opportunity to someone else instead of always being the one at the receiving end?”
He looked at me and said, “People should fight for what they want.”
That sentence cut deeper than I expected.
Because I know for a fact someone once fought for him. Someone once made room, cracked the door open, extended a hand. And now that he’s arrived, he acts like the journey was a solo climb? Like no one deserves help unless they’ve bled for it?
That’s not leadership.
That’s self-preservation disguised as “merit.”
That’s insecurity wrapped in entitlement or just pure selfishness.
And you know what hurts the most? It’s not just the missed opportunities. It’s the silence. The way, he walks into rooms where decisions are made, where power circulates, and chooses not to make any room for the people behind him.
Leaders like that — they build nothing lasting. The day they leave, their presence evaporates. There’s no legacy. No gratitude. No growth. Just a history of closed doors and hoarded chances.
John C. Maxwell once said, “Leadership is influence — nothing more, nothing less.” But I want to add to that.
Leadership is influence — yes. But a true leader is a ladder.
You climb, and you pull others up with you. You create space, even if it’s inconvenient. You see people, especially the ones who haven’t learned how to scream for what they want yet.
Because if your leadership ends with you, then it was never leadership — it was performance.
I don’t care how many rooms you’ve walked into.
If no one ever walked in because of you, then I’m not impressed.
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here