Ask Chuka

  Yesterday, it felt very humbling, yet strangely satisfying, to be vulnerable. I honestly cannot remember the last time someone asked me for a small cash favour of about ₦20,000 and I couldn't respond almost immediately. Even when I forgot to send the money, it was usually because I got caught up with work. But yesterday, I looked at my friend and simply said: “Kevin, I no get.” I don't know what he saw in my eyes, but instead of brushing it aside, he started asking questions to make sure I was alright. And sincerely, I am. In more than 15 years, I don't think I have ever been at this particular point. Yet, strangely, I am writing about it because it felt good to be vulnerable. It reminded me of many years ago, when I could barely afford transport to some of the places I wanted to go. Those days taught me something about friendship. A lot of the people I hung out with then were genuine. We didn't love or respect one another because of what we had in our bank accounts. ...

I was invited by AskChuka Enterprises ( not real name 😂) to be part of an exit interview panel. Business wasn't going well and they needed to downsize. Before the meeting, I requested the files of the 10 people on an Excel sheet rather brutally tagged 𝗦𝗔𝗖𝗞. Nine were straightforward. But one file bothered me. Let's call him Mide. Mide had been with the company for 10 years and was a star performer for eight. Then, two years ago, something changed. He still delivered, but his work had become tardy and less innovative. How does someone give eight excellent years and suddenly become mediocre? So I asked him: "Mide, you were a star performer for eight years. What happened in the last two?" His emotional response boiled down to one thing: 𝗛𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱. After years of giving his best without feeling recognised, he decided to become like everyone else. I understood him. And I told management that organisations have a responsibili...