An executive director learns that he doesn’t have all the answers
by Ang Lloyd
“I hadn’t understood that it was exactly what I needed; OSISA offered me an opportunity to get my voice back, and a lesson in how important humility is.”
At the start of 2013, Siphosami (or Sipho, as colleagues and comrades call him) was working as a senior governance advisor at the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). In the preceding decade, the UNDP had taken him from Kabul to Oslo, and now to the banks of the East River in mid-town Manhattan.
The intersection of human rights and criminal justice had long been Sipho’s focus. The fight against oppression flowed through his blood. His father was a nationalist in the liberation movement and – a direct victim of the Rhodesian regime’s oppressive laws – had fought for his country’s independence.
After studying law in Zimbabwe in the 1990s, Sipho became a human rights lawyer, working on cases in Zimbabwe and Botswana. He joined the UN, first as a senior defence trial attorney on the East Timor Serious Crimes Panel, then as leader of a programme to rebuild the justice system in post-war Afghanistan.
By 2013, Sipho was responsible for southern and east Africa at the UNDP. At the time, he was involved with a project with the Open Society. It was a collaboration that focused on access to justice and the socio-economic impact of pre-trial detention. Soon after, he was approached by Open Society Foundation (OSF) headhunters, as they were looking for an executive director for their southern Africa foundation.
At first, Siphosami wasn’t interested in joining the Open Society Initiative for Southern Africa (OSISA). He knew about the OSF – he had friends and colleagues who’d worked there – but he was content with his New York life. Looking back, he hadn’t yet understood the opportunity the role would give him.
“Initially, I just ignored it!” says Sipho. The headhunters emailed again – and he ignored them again. The third time around, however, a couple of colleagues told him they knew he was ignoring the OSF. Sipho reiterated that he loved the Open Society’s work, but he was happy where he was. His colleagues asked him to at least look at what was on the table. He finally relented. From then on, he couldn’t wait to join the organisation.
“I hadn’t understood that it was exactly what I needed,” explains Sipho. “The UN was great, but it had a lot of bureaucracy; OSISA offered me an opportunity to get my voice back, and a lesson in how important humility is.”
Sipho had big shoes to fill at OSISA. When he arrived, the budget had yet to be approved, and the strategy hadn’t been finalised. He knew that he had to get the strategy signed off as quickly as possible because delaying it meant a delay in releasing the budget.
He spent the next six weeks getting to grips with what he had to do. He realised that the organisation had grown too quickly for its budget, and this growth wasn’t systematic but additive. Although OSISA was responsive to new challenges, its processes were haphazard, and the anxiety amongst staff was palpable.
Consequently, Sipho devised a 100-day plan. It would involve unpacking 10 core issues and identifying solutions in 100 days. For it to succeed, he knew it would have to involve every staff member. Then, after 100 days, the whole team would develop a plan to implement all the changes in the next six months.
He set up 10 committees, and every staff member had to join at least one. Each committee had a convener, and recommendations had to be delivered to Sipho in 100 days. The committees were offered any logistical and financial support they needed, and everyone was on board.
Two weeks later, Sipho bumped into his personal assistant. He enquired about the committees’ progress.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
Sipho opted for the good news.
“Well,” began his PA, “the good news is that everyone is coming to work. The bad news is that nothing’s happening with your committees.”
Sipho was shocked. He’d been chatting to people in the corridors and over lunch in the kitchen, asking how things were going, and everyone’s response was positive.
“But, why?” asked Sipho, confounded.
His PA explained that some people felt Sipho was hired to fix the problems – why should they do his job? Other staff members said that they’d been on this path before, and it led nowhere.
Sipho saw there was a trust deficit. He returned to the conveners and asked them to talk about their concerns. He told them that in 100 days, he had to make changes – with or without the teams’ input.
“You would’ve missed a wonderful opportunity to shape the future of this organisation,” he implored. “I’m not going to pretend I have all the answers, but I’ll know more with your help.”
He assured the committees that if he rejected any recommendations, he’d explain why, and it was open for discussion. He re-emphasised that he wanted OSISA’s employees to lead the change, as they knew the organisation better than he did.
Something unexpected happened.
The committees got to work straight away, and after 90 days, all internal consultations were completed, minutes recorded, and recommendations validated.
“It was beautiful,” smiles Sipho.
He shared the outcomes with OSISA’s board, and they accepted most of the recommendations. Staff then attended a retreat to discuss everything, and an implementation plan was set in motion. According to Sipho, the implementation was successful because it was based on a strategic approach that was collectively agreed upon.
“They knew they could go full heart, body, and mind,” he adds.
Sipho no longer has a view of the banks of the East River. His office is now 500 km from the Limpopo River, one of the great rivers of Africa that flows in an arc. As programmes director for Africa at OSF-Africa, he has high hopes for the future. Many OSISA employees are in the new entity, except this time, he says, they’re working beyond southern Africa and driving change throughout the continent.
For Sipho, OSISA lives on in OSF-Africa, as the organisation’s values remain the same. Values like respect, humility, diversity, and equality form part of the compass that continues to advance the Open Society’s work.
Throughout his career, Sipho has also learnt that he must be vulnerable and willing to learn. He maintains that’s true for anything in life, and he continues to be curious and open-minded.
“Mostly importantly, I’ve learnt to be humble – and that I don’t have all the answers,” he concludes.
