If you ask pretty much anyone from the business community what the Theory of Change is about they’ll most likely look blank. The same applies to those in government. For the concept is largely restricted to the development world, including NGOs and those who fund them.

Having worked with NGOs over the years I have become familiar with not only what it’s all about but why it’s a good idea to apply it. Figuring out the Theory of Change (ToC) comes in as one is developing one’s strategy, and it links cause-and-effect relationships between what one does and what the outcomes are.

Its focus is on the long-term impact of a whole organisation and of its programmes and projects, and it ensures that the indicators or measures used go beyond those that merely assess intermediate output. This ensures robust performance management – or as NGOs prefer to call it, M&E (Monitoring and Evaluation) – which insists on having answers to the repeated “So what?” question probing the consequences of one’s actions.

As I have mentioned in other articles, measures of intermediate output are usually much easier both to define and to achieve, and too many planners and leaders adopt this shorter, easier path to performance management. My usual example is the objective of developing the capacity of one’s people, where the measure is simply the number of training programmes and how many attended, without looking into the much more challenging task of assessing the consequences of them having done so.

With the application of ToC, there’s no choice. One is forced to think about what change resulted from having done what one has done. Like, did developing the staff capacity change how effectively one operated in achieving the purpose, the vision, of the organisation?

When I was introduced to the Theory of Change I was already familiar with the Balanced Scorecard’s way of carrying out strategic planning. The Balanced Scorecard has strategic planners identify objectives in a “balanced” way, focusing on the four pillars of Customers and Products; Learning and Growth (or “Our People” as I prefer to call it); Systems and Processes; and Financial Sustainability.

Over the three decades since it was launched as a methodology, the Balanced Scorecard has evolved in a number of ways. When it was first introduced it was only intended for use by for-profits, but it has since expanded to not-for-profits and to government (in both of which I and my colleagues have applied it). This was enabled through its evolution from emphasis on shareholders of companies to the inclusive perspective of all stakeholders to any entity, bringing on board the contemporary ESG – Environmental, Social and Governance – issues that any kind of organisation must take into account.

Another vital evolution of the Balanced Scorecard was the introduction of Strategy Mapping. This, just as one does in plotting the Theory of Change, spells out cause-and-effect linkages between objectives – within and between the four pillars, and building up to achieving the ultimate long-term aspiration.

An example I like to describe to illustrate this is the relationship between the Balanced Scorecard’s financial pillar and the other three. One will only reach financial sustainability if all the other pillars are in good shape. They are described as the “lead” factors, with the financial one being the consequential “lag” factor. Having said that, unless the finances are available for the other three they will not be able to deliver. See my point about cause-and-effect relationships?

So whether we’re talking about the Theory of Change or about Strategy Mapping within the Balanced Scorecard framework, my advice to you all is to think hard about how in your organisation, be it for-profit or not-for-profit, private or public sector, large or small, you define the cause-and-effect links between the different elements there. Find out how to do so graphically, so all the links are easily visible.

This will help remove the silos, the walls between functions or levels, between programmes or projects, and that everyone has the whole picture, aware of whose enabling influence they rely on and who they in turn are enabling. And all this so they know how they can best contribute to delivering on what the whole organisation is all about.

When I read Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point – How Little Things Make a Big Difference I really wanted to produce an article about it. But it never happened. Now, 25 years after he’d published that book, he returned to the subject with more case studies and more reflections in a new book, titled Revenge of the Tipping Point – Overstories, Superspreaders, and the Rise of Social Engineering.

Why revenge? Because while in the first book he was quite optimistic, now he has assessed the consequences of the arrival of social media and the spread of misinformation algorithms that tailor content to individual preferences and confine people to their echo-chambers. This, plus his further research, led him to conclude that some tipping points are manipulated through less than ethical social engineering that may be beneficial but often comes with harmful consequences.

What we have seen as consequences of these echo-chambers in many countries is the passing of tipping points from the centre in politics to more extreme left-wing and right-wing positions, and so for moderate incumbent parties to be voted out of office.

Let me home in on just a couple of tipping point examples from the 2024 book, and first Gladwell’s story about how in the 1950s African-Americans were moving out of many cities in the South in great numbers to escape the hostile environments there. Their arrival in northern city neighbourhoods in turn provoked the “White Flight” from them, crossing tipping points that then greatly accelerated the number moving.

The trend was very strong in Atlanta, which personified “The New South”, and became a far less racist one. In the 1960s, 60,000 white people fled the city, whose population at that time was just 300,000. That’s 20 per cent, gone. Then in the 1970s another 100,000 white people fled.

In 1974 I spent a few days in Atlanta, on a work-study assignment during my Sloan MBA year at the London Business School, and I was fortunate to witness the positive side of The New South. There I saw the non-segregationist mindset we have recently been reminded of that Jimmy Carter displayed. We met with the city’s first African-American mayor, Maynard Jackson, and enjoyed other uplifting evidence of a more integrated society.

My other example relates to Ivy League universities like Harvard, whose leaders began worrying that their elitist swagger was being diluted by bright young students from less privileged backgrounds. What could they do to avoid crossing a threshold beyond which that would spread like wildfire? They continued with their regular track for smart students around the world who competed merely on their academic merits. But they then introduced a second “ALDC” track, where ALDC stands for Athletes; Legacies (children of alumni); Dean’s interest list (children of rich people); and Children of faculty.

Gladwell reports on the in-depth studies which show how the ALDC candidates receive preferential treatment, showing that now the easiest way to get into the world’s most prestigious university is not to be the best student academically but the best athlete.

Gladwell also writes about how in the 1920s Columbia University, the most prestigious in New York, faced a crisis as the children of the Jewish immigrants who had arrived in large numbers at the turn of the century were now of college age, and with high scores on their entrance exams now comprised forty per cent of its undergraduate population. The White Anglo Saxon Protestant elite were not amused by this tipping point, so they devised subtle ways of limiting Jewish enrolment.

As I was reading the book I asked myself about phenomena that had passed tipping points here in Kenya. Two immediately occurred to me: bad driving and corruption. How did each of these reach its tipping point to then become so widespread? Clearly impunity is a lead factor, allowing easy benefits to accrue to selfish drivers and to those bribing and being bribed, who then become role models for others.

So the next question is this. What kind of steps can be taken to reverse this trend that has spread like wildfire, to reach a reverse tipping point where courteous driving and ethical transacting can become the norm? We know the answers. It’s just proving too hard to apply the evident truths they contain… but maybe Gen Z can help us along the way.

Let me conclude by strongly recommending these two books to you. For tipping points exist in so many contexts and at all levels. They can lead to either positive or negative new scenarios, ones that should be encouraged or discouraged to materialise. Whether one crosses the tipping point or not is a choice, and it requires great expertise to influence the outcome. Read Gladwell to help you realise what it takes.

Late last year Frank Kretzschmar and I co-hosted another of our Leaders Circles, where we gather a small group of leaders to share stories. Its theme was “The Others: respect requires honouring the dignity and rights of others”, and as often before I am writing this article about the highlights.

Frank and I always seek inspirational quotes on our theme in advance, and write them on flip-charts that we then tape onto the walls of the room where we are meeting. On this occasion Frank sought the assistance of AI, and here’s one of those it came up with: “Respectful dialogue can bridge divides by fostering mutual understanding and respect. It provides a platform for individuals and groups to express their views, listen to others, and find common ground.”

He then asked for quotes by Africans, and these are among those that immediately appeared:

“Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” – Chinua Achebe

“To be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” – Nelson Mandela

“Most people write me off when they see me. They do not know my story – the pride I have in my rich culture and the history of my people.” – Idowu Koyenikan

I opened our afternoon by talking about its theme, drawing the contrast between interacting with others only to defend one’s position, and listening openly to allow oneself to be influenced into compromise. This is the difference between going for win-lose and assuming the possibility of win-win.

Then the stories launched. One participant adopted a pessimistic tone: “We have lost common ground,” he noted, explaining that we who are of a generation with “objective reality” now see subsequent generations locked into echo chambers through social media, where the host platforms reinforce what is clicked on with selective data, facts and video. How can one generate common ground in such a setting? Never mind that the average attention span has been declining dramatically, generation after generation, with it now being down to the just seven minutes required to view a Tik-Tok video or read a Twitter message.

I went into my background, where my Romanian parents found themselves in Palestine with many other Jewish people who had fled there from their European countries thanks to the Nazism and Fascism of the Second World War. Not only were they with so many similar Others, but in the liberal city of Haifa where they lived and where I was born several of their best friends were Arabs.

In 1948, when I was three, we moved to England, and here we definitely were The Others, speaking English with foreign accents and enjoying very different kinds of food. But the welcome of the host nation was wonderful, leading immigrants like my parents to become great British patriots.

While an undergraduate I was fortunate to have enjoyed three internships in France, and it was while living there with The Others’ in their culture and speaking their language that I learned so much about my own British culture and about the English language I otherwise normally spoke.

My final big move was when my family and I came to Kenya in 1977, where I was seen as the expatriate Other with an assumed neo-colonialist mindset – despite there being none of that within me.

Frank went into the power of alignment, asking if people of our generation can align with Gen Z. In our work as facilitators, can we facilitate such young ones? I’m pretty sure I can – just as I am able to relate so nicely to my grandchildren. In our lives Frank and I act as energy aligners, as mediators, so that different Others do not waste energy on useless conflict that prevents engagement, decision-making and progress.

Another storyteller was concerned about how the government and the private sector indeed see each other as Others, with us in the private sector viewing ourselves as victims, while neglecting the power we actually have to change the look of Kenya. One introduced the subject of spirituality, and we agreed that different religions actually share the same spiritual values.

My final point was about my wife Evelyn Mungai, who was the first African student at Kianda College, and who became the first lady member of our Rotary Club and our first lady president. She never saw herself or men as The Other. She just was who she was, with her own competencies and confidence.

What are your thoughts on this topic of Others? Do you enjoy a win-win mindset in how you interact? Are you sufficiently open to be influenced by Others and to benefit from what they have to offer?

A fortnight ago KEPSA held an event at KICC to celebrate the 20th anniversary of its founding, and I closely related to how Prof. Anyang’ Nyong’o opened his speech by saying he was feeling very nostalgic seeing the faces of those he helped launch KEPSA back in 2003 when he was the Minister of Planning in President Kibaki’s government.

I was one of those faces, then representing the ICT industry as the Chairman of the Kenya ICT Federation, while also speaking on behalf of management as at the time I was also the Chairman of the Council of the Kenya Institute of Management. Present too was Manu Chandaria, who became KEPSA’s Founder Chairman, and other founders who subsequently took over the chairmanship – Lee Karuri (whose Vice Chairman I became), Dennis Awori, Patrick Obath and Vimal Shah. Interestingly, we all remain active supporters of KEPSA, and I will come back to that later.

For now, let me share with you an extract from an article I wrote in this column when KEPSA was celebrating its 10th anniversary.

We must by no means take for granted the combination of circumstances and personalities that came together a decade ago. For long business and professional people had been hammering away at the doors of government with their private sector agendas, but with much less joy – just as we still find in so many other countries.

Here let me say something about the contrasting styles between the for-profit private sector and civil society – in particular many of the human rights elements. As the private sector representatives started learning about what does and what doesn’t work in engaging with government, it became apparent that a confrontational style rarely succeeds. If at all, aggressiveness should be used as a last, certainly not a first, resort. (Sometimes, I should add, we resorted to playing “good cop, bad cop” between us.)

Above all we found that you can’t beat sitting together in the same room, tackling common opportunities and problems. This is what builds trust and respect; this is what builds relationships. And as we got to know each other personally, our respective labels of “public sector” and “private sector” faded from our identities. We became just Kenyans, seeking a better Kenya.

Many businesspeople were so consumed with outrage over some government abuse that they found us far too polite, too compliant, and that we were just wasting our time. But I believe that in the long run the give-and-take, win-win approach of KEPSA and its members has paid off handsomely: the fact that KEPSA’s National Business Agenda has become the agreed basis for public-private dialogue is a tribute to the skills and behaviour of all.

So here we are, ten years later, looking back again at our evolution. I am reminded of the positive influence of PRSP, the turn-of-the century Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper, with its Sector Working Groups (SWGs) that all included private sector representation – this having been insisted on by the World Bank which was supporting the initiative. I was a member of the ICT SWG, where it was so satisfying to see government and business members mingling as one. (It was the first time ICT was identified as a sector on its own, and through it Kenya’s first national ICT policy emerged.)

I was also reminded of the first KEPSA strategy retreat, that I facilitated in Naivasha, where I suggested “low ego” should be one of our values. And by and large I am happy to say that it is the confident humility of the KEPSA leadership over the years that explains its continuing significant influence in the creation of an enabling environment for business. It is also why there has been space for past leaders to continue contributing without their successors feeling threatened.

The Chief Guest at the 20th Anniversary function was President Ruto, and speaking before him were Nairobi Governor Johnson Sakaja, Kisumu Governor Anyang’ Nyong’o and the then Cabinet Secretary in the Ministry of Investments, Trade and Industry, Salim Mvurya. They all talked enthusiastically about the excellent collaboration between their offices and KEPSA, and like KEPSA’s current Chairman Jas Bedi when he addressed us, they looked forward to continuing with such win-win mindsets. After the President spoke he indulged in a “Fireside Chat” with long-serving KEPSA CEO Carole Kariuki.

Who knows if I’ll still be writing this column at the time KEPSA will be celebrating its thirtieth birthday (I’ll still be younger then than Manu Chandaria is today!) but I confidently predict that KEPSA will still be going strong, with its counterparts in other countries continuing to visit us here to benchmark against it.

Corruption remains one of the biggest challenges facing Kenya. Actually, East Africa. Wait a minute, all over the continent… oh, and far beyond. It undermines trust and hence stifles economic growth, and its effects are felt across all sectors. Companies often find themselves entangled in unethical practices such as bribery, fraud and mismanagement, as they navigate their way through an environment where transparency and accountability are hard to handle.

The private sector stands at a pivotal moment. As global attention increasingly turns toward ethical governance and corporate responsibility, businesses in Africa face a choice: perpetuate the status quo or embrace a transformative path of integrity, transparency and accountability.

Organisations like The Blue Company (where I am a member of its Membership and Ethics Committee) and the UN Global Compact are stepping in to lead the way. Rooted in the belief that ethical governance is the cornerstone of sustainable development, they work to embed integrity at the heart of corporate culture. Through certification, training and advocacy, such initiatives support businesses to rise above corrupt practices and champion ethical standards.

But the philosophy that underpins this approach is larger than any one initiative. At its core is the conviction that integrity is more than a compliance requirement – it is a driver of trust, innovation and long-term growth. Businesses committed to ethical practices gain reputational advantages, attract investment and foster environments conducive to sustainable development.

Change begins at the top, as leaders play a critical role in shaping corporate culture, setting the tone for ethical behaviour and ensuring accountability. For a culture of integrity to thrive, leaders must commit to transparent decision-making and zero-tolerance policies for corruption. When they embody such values and behaviours, they inspire trust within their organisations and beyond.

However, leadership alone is not enough. Businesses must invest in capacity building to ensure alignment across all levels. Comprehensive training programmes that focus on ethical decision-making, anti-bribery measures and practical approaches to transparency are crucial. These efforts equip employees with the tools they need to uphold integrity in their daily operations.

Corruption is not just a business issue – it is a societal one. Addressing it requires collective action from professional associations, civil society, governments and businesses. Advocacy plays a vital role in this effort, promoting policies that support ethical governance and creating systems that reward transparency.

Collaborative initiatives, like those championed by The Blue Company, amplify the impact of individual efforts. By working with stakeholders across sectors, these initiatives help establish integrity as a norm rather than an exception. Advocacy also influences legislation, ensuring that ethical practices are supported by robust legal frameworks.

Innovation is a powerful tool in the fight against corruption. Emerging technologies, such as blockchain for secure record-keeping and artificial intelligence for auditing processes, offer businesses new ways to enhance transparency and accountability. By adopting these

advancements, organisations can prevent fraud, streamline compliance, and stay ahead in the evolving business landscape.

Technology also empowers stakeholders by increasing access to information. Digital platforms that track supply chains, for example, make it easier to identify and address unethical practices. Such tools deter corruption and so build trust among consumers, investors and regulators.

While some progress has been made, much remains to be done. Corruption continues to be a significant barrier to economic growth. Expanding ethical business practices across industries and geographies is essential for transforming Africa’s private sector into a driver of integrity-driven development.

The road to ethical governance is not easy. For corruption provides shortcuts and immediate gains that can tempt businesses to compromise their values. But the long-term rewards of integrity far outweigh the risks of unethical behaviour.

In the face of such challenges, these initiatives offer a path forward, as we heard last week at the Africa Business Ethics Conference. By prioritising certification, capacity building and advocacy, they create a foundation for trust and sustainable growth. Yet their success depends on a collective commitment from the private sector to act responsibly and lead by example.

For Africa to unlock its full potential, businesses must embrace a vision of integrity as a guiding principle – not just for compliance, but as a cornerstone of competitive advantage. This shift will not only attract investment and foster innovation but also lay the groundwork for a thriving economy built on trust and merit.

In a region where corruption has long been a major obstacle to progress, the private sector has the opportunity to redefine success. By championing ethical governance, businesses can become catalysts for systemic change, paving the way for a future where there will be less resistance to transparency and accountability.

Readers of this column will have seen my articles from the 1990 and the 1978 stories I came across in my archives, and today I’m writing about one from 2003. This is from a collection of articles in The East African titled “100 Days of NARC: East African CEOs Speak”, where mine was the lead one. Here’s how I started:

We expected so much; they led us to expect so much. Without Moi, everything would be possible; the new government was “unbwogable”. But that’s not real life. Real life has electioneering politicians paint Utopian visions that can never be achieved, even in a five-year period. Yet voters want to see results, instant results.

One must sympathise with the challenges faced by the new team. Ideally they might have wanted to take their time, acting in a poised and systematic fashion. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a “protected” period in which to put the new team in place; find out the real situation on the ground; consult with all the stakeholders; drive a long-term vision, followed by objectives, strategies and plans; and only then get on with the implementation? Dream on. More so in this nanosecond age, when we expect instant action and instant results.

I went on to say that nowhere is this easy, mentioning the problems Tony Blair was facing at the time in trying to improve education and healthcare systems in Britain. “It’s not for want of trying,” I accepted, “but the capacity of ‘the system’ to resist change continues to be greater than that of reformers, however well-meaning or determined, to introduce it.”

The more things change, the more they remain the same, as since Blair’s time British governments have struggled more and more in these domains… including just now the new Labour government there, having to still deal with the pay claims and strikes, illegal immigrant flows and inadequate prison capacity, plus plus plus. And just look at how the Democrats and the Republicans in America were recently both painting their Utopian pictures for voters.

When our present government campaigned, like others they too promised an imminent heaven on earth. But when it came to implementing their manifesto, guess what? Heaven remained in its abode, while the citizens became disillusioned.

We must however accept that in the last few years it has become yet more challenging to fulfill electoral commitments, thanks to unpredictable global disruptions such as Covid and the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East that have adversely affected all economies.

What surprises me is that whether in the US, the UK or here, governments draw inadequate attention to these significant negative influences when either making their promises or later explaining why they have been unmet. Opposition politicians, the media and others of course stay silent on such mitigating factors.

Just as in my columns about the articles from 1978 about working well with customers, and from 2001 about leading with trust and consultation, here too there are elements of universality and timelessness. Like the phrase “campaigning in poetry and governing in prose” was not invented in Kenya.

I also called upon the NARC government to do a better job of communicating with us, not allowing the media to set the agenda. The problems between the NARC constituent parties brought easy copy to the media, I wrote, and this provided new scripts for the daily dose of melodrama they needed to keep their circulation healthy.

Later in my article I urged the NARC government to continue engaging actively with the private sector, as it is the engine of growth and creator of jobs… and the source of people who understand how to deliver high performance. The NARC leadership had already been doing this, resulting in the formation of the National Economic and Social Council and KEPSA.

I concluded by challenging private sector players to engage in the business of policy making and implementation. I didn’t say it there, but this includes some of us offering ourselves for positions in government. As did John Barorot, who for two years served as the Deputy Governor of Uashin Gishu before resigning not too long ago. He’d had all he could take of the tough political environment, and decided to throw in the towel and return to the more orderly world of the private sector.

So, my renewed plea to politicians: don’t get too far ahead with your pre-election selling without having the product to back it up. If elected, communicate effectively without continuing to over-promise. And for the rest of us, engage with those politicians to help them be connected to reality.

In August of this year I wrote an article based on an interview with me in 1990 I had unearthed about how I was managing the IT company of which I was then CEO, where I stated that some would have assumed I was speaking about leadership styles today given that what I was saying and doing at the time many imagine only emerged much more recently.

My column today is about another article from the last century, this one from 1978, which featured in KIM’s Management magazine under the headline “Eldon Marries Heart to Computer Science”. In it, Seth Musisi wrote about a talk I gave at a seminar on data processing (as IT was then called) at the University of Nairobi, on how I viewed relations with our customers – in those days of huge and hugely expensive mainframe machines.

In 1978 I was the General Manager of the Kenyan subsidiary of British computer multinational ICL, with nearly a hundred staff and looking after around thirty customers. At that time there were hardly any software applications, so each customer had their own teams of systems analysts and programmers, starting from scratch to create theirs – hard to imagine these days.

Musisi began the article with this quote from my talk: “The relationship between manufacturers and computer users is similar to marriage, where a couple is lawfully wedded, in sickness and in health, till death do them part.” And he went on to write about my expectation that there should not be conflict between supplier and user, but cooperation to mutual benefit – especially given the likelihood of a long-term relationship. Suppliers should be responsible partners rather than mere hard-selling revenue-chasers descending on innocent maidens, I suggested.

In this relationship the user seeks to maximise the return on their investment in the system, while the supplier’s goal is to maximise the investment. Yes, except that most of our business came from existing users and one could not expect to retain them in the long-run by overselling in the short-term. We also relied heavily on the satisfaction of the base in selling to new users.

We suppliers, with our international exposure, were expected to carry out training and to advise our users on how to generate the best benefit from their investment. This at all levels, from the computer department (the term for IT department then) to the users to senior management (hardly direct users in those days). For this to work well, I said, there had to be a spirit of give and take, giving credit and blame where they were due – rather than as happened too often, indulging in blame denial and displacement, and recrimination.

Does some of this sound familiar? Well here’s another topic I addressed that’s as alive today, to do with technology replacing jobs. In the 1970s many were still uncertain as to whether to bring computers into developing countries like Kenya. (A decade or so later the taxes on computers were raised on the grounds that they were “labour-saving devices”.) Here my response was that we should be keeping abreast of what was happening in the developed world and raising our productivity, for otherwise we would fall further behind and increase our dependency.

And while accepting that some jobs were indeed automated through the introduction of computers, other jobs were being created – like those among vendors and users, and those in the university’s Institute of Computer Science, the co-hosts of the event. I also pointed out that staff in the computerworld are forced to adopt a disciplined way of thinking, which influences others with whom they come into contact and is good for the country at large.

In those days there were many expatriates in the sector – as I still was then, having arrived here in 1977 – and this too gave rise to considerable push-back. It depends on need, I insisted, and assumes skills transfer by the external resources, also appreciating the training that was increasingly available locally.

So here we are today in Silicon Savannah, with smart phones in our pockets whose power exceeds that of those monsters in air-conditioned rooms I once dealt with. But what has not changed is the need for suppliers of capital goods to treat their customers responsibly, as it is this that will keep them loyal and encourage others to be attracted to you. What has only more recently become fashionable is to wrap all this up in language promoting “sustainability”… which is what was already being delivered by the good guys.

In my article today I’m going to share with you how Prof. Olubayi Olubayi cried on my shoulder about the terribly low pass rate for the Kenya National Examinations Council’s (KNEC’s) Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) examinations. It’s been bothering him for a long time, and he has now shown me the evidence which, with his academic scrupulousness, he has been compiling.

The KCSE pass mark is C+, which is usually less than 50% of the score in a subject. Prof Olubayi has been studying the KNEC website and media reports on the issue, and here’s the sad reality: since 2016, 80% of Kenyan children fail their KCSE after twelve years of schooling, meaning only two out of ten students pass. This with the exception of 2017 and 2018, when only one out of ten passed.

“Imagine a business that manufactures products,” Prof Olubayi lamented, “but where only two out of ten are good enough to sell. How long would such a business last?” That is the situation in Kenya, despite our hugely expensive public education system. The Government spends approximately 20% of its annual budget on this broken system, with the amount allocated for 2023/2024 being Shs.628 billion.

He went on to explain that there are many reasons for this mass failure – while adding that solutions do exist. Kenya has achieved near universal school attendance, but not universal learning, which reminded me of how the difference between diversity and inclusiveness has been described: diversity shows an invitation to the party, while inclusiveness sees you being invited to dance.

Prof. Olubayi concluded that the country is funding failure, where the victims are the majority of children, inevitably resulting in lowered development potential for the country.

If you ask Kenyans, whether well-educated professionals or ordinary citizens, to guess the pass rate for KCSE – as Prof Olubayi has been consistently doing – most suggest 70% or 80%. But as we see, the reality is very different. Sadly, most of the 20% who pass went to private primary schools or academies for their foundation primary schooling of Grades 1 to 3. Almost all the children of the truly poor, who cannot afford private primary schools, simply fail after attending school for twelve years. They attend, but they do not learn.

On January 20th 2023, the Nation ran the headline “The majority of 2022 KCSE students get low grades”. It was referring to the results that had just been officially announced by the CS Education, who stated that only 173,345 out of the 881,416 students who’d sat the Grade 12 (Form Four) national examination had passed with a C+ or above. This translates to a 20% pass rate, where C+ is the minimum Grade 12 national examination score that qualifies one to study for a degree programme at a university.

The low pass rate of only 22% for 2023 is the highest in the last 8 years. By comparison, in Mauritius – which has the best education system in Africa – the pass rate for the school certificate examination in 2022 was 78%. The pass rate in Malaysia is 55%. The percentage of students passing GCSE in the UK with a grade of C or higher was 73%, and those attaining a grade of A or A+ was 26% – which is higher than those passing with a C+ or higher in Kenya. In France, the pass rate for the baccalaureate is usually around 80%.

It is for these reasons that in 2012 Prof Olubayi created Kiwimbi, an NGO learning centre focused on interventions to raise the pass rates in primary and secondary schools in Kenya.

There they use the “Teach at the Right Level” (TaRL) method of the Indian NGO Pratham, in combination with “spaced-repetition”, a learning technique typically performed with flashcards, and they are obtaining excellent results. In the 2023 KCPE results one of the primary schools next to Kiwimbi in Amagoro had more than half the students score more than 300 points – a performance as good as that of our best private primary schools. The same methods are being deployed elsewhere in rural western Kenya, with similarly encouraging results in secondary schools.

Other interventions include persuading principals of selected boarding schools to respect the science of learning by allowing students to sleep for 8 hours, removing calculators, promoting general reading, and tutoring students in small groups.

Learn more about how kiwimbi operates and the impact it has been achieving by going to their website, www.kiwimbi.org. And beyond just browsing it, how can you help it to go to scale in its mission of transforming our pass rates? Surely together we can do so much better.

Like Joe Wanjui and Manu Chandaria, about whom I have written recently, I got to know Sharad Rao through Rotary. But having recently read his autobiography, From Jomo to Uhuru, Rao’s Nine Lives – Reminiscences of the Power, Courage and Intrigues that Shaped Kenya’s Post-Colonial History, I now know him very much better.

Being with Rao one appreciates his integrity and frankness, calling a spade a spade, plus his calmness and clarity of thinking, his wonderful memory and his gentle humour – such powerful contributors to his extraordinary legal career. All this is so clearly reflected in his memoir, a follow up to his earlier book, Indian Dukawallas – Their Contribution to the Political and Economic Development of Kenya, which was published in 2016.

His autobiography was launched in June of this year, and in it Rao takes us from his origins through his education and his legal life to the community projects that now occupy his time in his late eighties. Two themes within the book stood out for me: the racism of the colonialists vis-à-vis both Asians and Africans, and what it takes for judges to perform honourably.

Let me start with the racism, and I can’t resist sharing with you this awful quote in the book from Charles Eliot, the colonial administrator who initiated the policy of white supremacy here: “The average Englishman tolerates a black man who admits his inferiority, and even those who show a good fight and give in, but he cannot tolerate dark colour combined with an intelligence in any way equal to his own.”

Rao also quotes Colonel Grogan as having proclaimed “We Europeans have to go on ruling this country and rule it with iron discipline.” Don’t mention Grogan in my house, as my wife Evelyn Mungai’s great grandmother Wanjiru had her land where the Norfolk Hotel now stands grabbed by this awful fellow.

Prejudice against Asians continued after Kenya became decolonised, and he tells us numerous stories of how he and others became victims of such exclusion.

Let me now turn to the second theme that struck me. In a chapter on his chairmanship of the Judges and Magistrates Vetting Board in 2011 we learn so much about what it takes to be a high performing judge. For as he and his colleagues sat in judgement on the extent to which the behaviour of the judges was consistent with the recently passed 2010 Constitution, they had to reflect deeply on who should qualify to continue serving on the bench and who should step down.

Their purpose, he writes, was “to remove the taint of the judiciary as being corrupt, unduly favourable to those in power, obsessed with technicalities, incapable of dealing with cases with requisite promptness, and generally unable or unwilling to administer justice in an appropriate manner.” He writes about what good and bad behaviour entails, and it occurred to me that the best way of summing it all up would be to say they must be highly emotionally intelligent.

Among Rao’s many wonderfully narrated stories, I want to pick out the one in 1974 where President Kenyatta announced that from then on Presidents of all societies, associations and clubs should be called Chairman and not President – as Kenya had only one President, himself. This happened shortly before Rao was due to visit China, and he told then Attorney General Charles Njonjo that Chairman Mao would take offence if he also called himself Chairman. He was given exemption, so for the two weeks he was in China Kenya had two Presidents. A good example of Rao’s easy humour.

For many years thereafter the edict was adhered to, till one day at a Rotary Conference where Kijana Wamalwa was the Guest of Honour and I was giving the vote of thanks I asked him whether Rotary Chairmen could now again be allowed to be called Presidents, as they were everywhere else in the world. “What’s in a name?” he mumbled, and I said I took it this was an assent. From then on the title “President” was again no longer restricted to State House.

I read that in 1957, while studying law in London, Rao lived in Hampstead – which is where I grew up. What stage was I at in 1957? I had just entered my high school years. Oh well, now we are both in our third age, with so many ups and downs in our lives to look back on. I have yet to do so in the form of a book, but so good that Rao has.

A few weeks months I wrote an article about how toxic cultures are often created by single individuals, and about how and why they behave as they do. Then, more recently, I was invited to be the external speaker at a half-day session hosted by Corporate Staffing Services on the theme “Surviving a Toxic CEO or Director”, and it led me to reflect further on the subject.

I also turned to Google to see what it had to tell me, and one of the first images I was shown informed me that “a Google search for ‘Toxic Boss’ generates almost 58 million hits”. Well whether that’s true or not, there’s plenty of very helpful material out there about this jarring subject.

Here’s what I found as definitions of toxic:

“Very harmful or unpleasant in a pervasive or insidious way”; “Toxic people manipulate those around them to get what they want”; “This can mean lying, bending the truth, exaggerating, or leaving out information so as to take a certain action or have a certain opinion of them; “They’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means hurting people”.

Then here’s from an image titled “10 signs of a toxic boss”: Lying, Gaslighting, Stealing credit, Always interrupting, Backbiting and gossiping, Never giving recognition, Insulting and name-calling, Saying one thing and doing another, Managing by fear and intimidation, Blaming the team vs taking responsibility.

Finally, I found “Signs to watch out for that can indicate you’re dealing with a toxic person”: You feel like you’re being manipulated; you’re constantly confused by the person’s behaviour; you feel like you deserve an apology that never comes; you always have to defend yourself to this person; you never feel fully comfortable around them; you feel bad about yourself in their presence.

Thanks, Google, for all these insights, which I complemented with reflections on my own experiences in my presentation. I listed what I have found to be root causes of such behaviour, many of which relate to low emotional intelligence, and perhaps most importantly – as I pointed out in my last article – lack of self-awareness and empathy. Toxic leaders – no, “bosses” fits better – neither trust others nor, deep down, trust themselves. They tend to be over-ambitious and impatient; and they fear failure. They are self-centred and entitled, indifferent to the feelings of others, and the word that sums up such characteristics is narcissism.

The issue of the day was how to survive in such an environment. Here I remembered when I was once with a toxic boss who expected me to be giving instructions and to be feared. I defied him to create a much healthier sub-culture around me. But quietly, without telling him about how I was operating my flatter pyramid: on tip-toe, whispering, so he wouldn’t be aware.

Here are other suggestions for managing relationships with toxic bosses. Flatter them, but genuinely, where they have earned the right to praise – which they also do. And use humour, to show you are at ease with them and to add a light touch that supports a friendlier way of working together.

Much is said about the need for sharing written evidence when dealing with such inconsistent and manipulative characters. So agree your goals and document what has been agreed, and then communicate your progress, again including in writing.

If above your CEO there exists a board of directors among whom there are at least some members who may lend a sympathetic ear and ease the situation, reach out to them – as I have done at times in my career. It can be risky, but escalation is a responsible way of behaving in such situations – and it can at least be theraeutic!

Some final thoughts from me. First, when at one time I was feeling demotivated thanks to a toxic boss, I reached out to volunteer in community activities like Rotary where I felt more aligned with those around me and more appreciated. Then, at the session where I was speaking several participants reached out to me seeking my advice as a mentor over toxic relationships they were facing in their workplaces. Indeed, finding a safe external adviser can definitely be helpful, including by assisting you in managing your stress.

So be like a rock and not a sponge. Don’t allow the toxicity to infect your system. And while you don’t want to leave such an environment too soon, if it looks like being the new normal start planning your exit.