From dirty politics to servant leadership

Last week, as part of my fellowship in the United States, we visited the Carter Centre. Housed adjacent to the Jimmy Carter Library and Museum, the Centre was founded in 1982 and has the mission of waging peace, fighting disease and building hope.

As we were touring the impressive centre, there was a running joke, mostly tongue in cheek, between the majority of us who were Africans. It was that while some former presidents left a legacy of peace and fighting injustice, most African presidents left in their wake writs from all the corrupt and unethical practices they had carried out while occupying office.

As if the visit could not get any better, we had a surprise visit by former US President Jimmy Carter, who spent some time answering questions and updating us on the centre's work.

The 2002 Nobel Peace Prize recipient epitomises the sought-after qualities of servant leadership, not exhibited by what he or his public relations machine states, but by the work he spearheads. Inevitably, the conversation amongst the attendees of the visit moved to the ideal dynamic of servant leadership and why this is fundamental for the continent.

Servant leadership, a philosophy and set of practices, represents a timeless concept and was coined by Robert K. Greenleaf in 'The Servant as a Leader'. The essay, in part reads, 'The servant leader is servant first... it begins with the natural feeling that one wants to serve first, then conscious choice leads one to want to aspire to lead.

In contrast, those who desire to lead first may sometimes be driven by the need to assuage an unusual power drive or to acquire material possessions.

The latter dynamic sounds more familiar than the former. While we have servant leaders like our very own 2004 Nobel Peace Prize winner, Wangari Maathai, who fought for various causes during her life, what makes the news on the continent is the drive towards self-aggrandisement.

By no means are the only servant leaders those citizens who receive public acknowledgement, indeed we have many unsung heroes in our midst whose names never see the light of day.

In 2012, the Mo Ibrahim Foundation failed to award its annual leadership prize. This prize is reserved for extraordinary achievement in delivery of human rights, integrity, transparency in office and building social cohesion by an African head of state who has left power in the last three years. It all sparked a lot of debate about whether there was a leadership vacuum on the continent.

Though not a consolation, leadership and governance are not a uniquely African crisis. The only problem, though, is that the continent is home to some of the world's least developed countries and the poorest populations. Not only are we significantly behind on our Millennium Development Goals, the progress on gender, health and education indicators are starting from a very low base and moving equally slowly.

One of the most useful aspects of my experience has been realising that the frustrations I experience are echoed across the African continent, from Cape Town to Cairo.

While we all want to see true leadership, led by the desire to serve the electorate, we acknowledge that to a certain extent we are part of the problem. The reluctance of the middle class, which in most cases is touted as being well educated and informed, to participate in improving the governance agenda either by involvement or standing up for the broader human rights is disappointing.

When we declare that politics is too dirty to be involved in, we are essentially absconding responsibility and relegating our fate to people, who are in most cases unfit to serve. The pandemic, for us, goes further than just refusing to be involved in servant leadership. It also touches on our values as potential leaders. It is said that your temerity as a leader is not known until you have figured out your price.

Then and only then can you be confident in the fact that you are not only incorruptible, but also capable of saying no when temptation comes your way. In his address to us, President Carter was clear in the fact that our strength lies in the significant human capital held by the youth.

And for the youth, the difference between giving them the hope to live for and strive towards a better future and missing the mark by deserting them to the whims of the world will determine whether the continent rises to the potential it holds.

We have enormous economic potential and resource wealth, that's for sure. But when it comes down to it, the highest mileage to be garnered is by investing in the youth and their education.

This does not necessarily only mean classroom education but also experiential learning, whether in or out of school.

Because this kind of investment doesn't yield a direct return immediately, we need a leadership culture that understands the balance between investing now and reaping in the long-term.

And if we cannot convert our current culture into one of servant leadership, then we need to find the strength to become the servant leaders.