Understanding the art of leaving well
What you need to know:
- When we accept leadership roles, we must do so knowing that we are one chapter, not the entire story. We step in, we serve, we stretch, and then we pass the baton—with hope that the next runner will make their own unique mark, running faster, further, or simply differently.
Leadership transitions are inevitable. Yet somehow, even when we know change is coming, it still finds a way to catch our hearts.
This April has been a season of transitions for me, both personal and professional. It has reminded me that leadership is never truly about positions or titles. It is about weaving yourself so deeply into the DNA of the organisations you serve that when your time comes to step away, it feels like leaving a part of yourself behind.
Over the past few weeks, I have experienced this in vivid ways. I stepped down from the Board of CCBRT after five years of service as Vice Chair, often deputising for my Chairman during moments of immense challenge. In the same month, I handed over the Chairmanship of AWEC’s Board after five years of stewardship—years that shaped me as much as I shaped the organisation.
And at Empower, I am preparing for the next chapter: stepping from Managing Partner to Board Chair, finalising a governance structure that will outlive any individual role. As part of this transition, we’ve also launched the Visionary Leaders Programme – a home-grown leadership journey designed to equip emerging executives with the mindset, tools, and governance principles needed to lead intentionally, delivered in partnership with the University of Dar es Salaam. For more information, email [email protected]
Each of these transitions carries a pang of grief. An ache that comes from pouring your energy, your heart, your vision into something you believe in—and then consciously stepping back to let others lead.
But intertwined with the grief is a deeper current: gratitude. Gratitude for the season of service, for the lessons learned, for the privilege of being a domino in a much longer line of collective progress.
Leadership transitions can be unexpectedly emotional. Here are three things I’ve learned to be grateful for; they may help you too:
The trust that was placed in you: Being invited to lead is never guaranteed. It’s a responsibility earned, not given. Reflecting on the fact that people trusted me to guide an organisation—through growth, challenge, and change—is something I never take lightly.
The growth it gave you: Leadership stretches you. I am not the same person who began these roles. Each season sharpened my clarity, deepened my resilience, and refined my voice. I’m grateful for who I’ve become through the experience.
The legacy you leave behind: Whether visible or invisible, we all leave a ripple. The systems shaped, the values upheld, the people empowered—these are the quiet echoes of service. Knowing the work lives on is a gift in itself.
When you step back with gratitude, you don’t feel small. You feel full—of meaning, growth, and possibility. Letting go of leadership is not about disappearing. It is about trusting the systems you’ve helped build, the people you’ve mentored, and the mission you’ve championed. It is recognising that your role was never infinite; it was always a sacred trust for a finite period. Stewardship, not ownership.
When we accept leadership roles, we must do so knowing that we are one chapter, not the entire story. We step in, we serve, we stretch, and then we pass the baton—with hope that the next runner will make their own unique mark, running faster, further, or simply differently.
Leadership transitions are not an ending. They are a continuation. A testament that the work matters beyond the one who holds the pen at any given time.
At CCBRT, at AWEC, at Empower, and in so many spaces, I am learning that the real success of leadership is not how tightly we hold on, but how gracefully we let go. It’s about leaving the stage better lit than we found it; so that others can see their own path more clearly.
There is no loss in succession, only legacy. There is no shame in stepping back, only honour. There is no fear in passing the baton, only faith.
This season has taught me that grief, when embraced, transforms into excitement—for what’s ahead, for how the next leader will shape their tenure, and for how I, too, will stretch into new spaces of contribution and growth. I am reaffirmed that we do not lead to cement our names. We lead to ensure the work continues; even more beautifully without us.
Leaders: Who did you lift and what did you leave behind?
