In the fast-paced world of startups, especially tech-enabled ones, studies suggest that nine out of 10 will fail.
It’s a brutal statistic, but also a freeing one. It reminds us that good ideas and fancy titles do not guarantee survival. In the end, what lasts is the value you create.
The world today is noisy. Scroll through LinkedIn for five minutes and you’ll see how obsessed we have become with titles. Everyone is a “Chief” something, a “Founder” of something, a “Director” of something. We love the validation that comes with it, and I understand that.
But titles are fragile. They can disappear in a reshuffle, a policy change or a bad quarter. When that happens, what’s left? The only things that survive are competence, creativity and credibility. That’s the kind of value no one can take away.
A Nairobi investor once told me something I’ve never forgotten: “A title is what they give you; value is what they can’t take back.” That single line sums up everything I’ve learned about leadership.
Take Steve Jobs. When he was kicked out of Apple in 1985, he did not just lose a company. He lost his identity. But instead of sulking, he built Pixar, a studio that changed the way the world told stories.
And when Apple began to falter, it was Jobs, without a title but full of value, who came back to save it. His second act gave us the iPod, iPhone and iPad. His power did not come from position, it came from proof. Failure is not a curse. It’s a filter. It strips away the noise and shows who can rebuild from nothing.
I have seen this in my own life. When I was CEO of Stratus Medical Imaging Solutions, we built one of Kenya’s first teleradiology networks. It connected hospitals across the country, 13 in total, so that scans from remote areas could be read by specialists miles away.
We did not have big capital or big titles behind us. We just saw a gap. Patients
in Kisumu or Eldoret were waiting days for reports that should have taken
hours. So we built something that solved the problem.
When the pandemic hit and hospitals went into lockdown, that system became a lifeline. Scans kept moving, reports kept coming and patients kept getting treated. That experience changed how I think about leadership. However, on the other hand when we stopped being valuable and our service quality dropped, our clients left us.
It's important then to stress that value is what keeps doors open, and so you must sustain it; your one success is not enough, you must continue to be valuable. That’s why Safaricom is still looking for the next best thing and not resting on its laurels.
In much of Africa, we still confuse hierarchy with leadership. We assume age means wisdom, and titles mean competence. But the truth is, global markets and real life do not care about hierarchy anymore. They reward usefulness.
The startups making waves in Nairobi, Lagos and Kigali are not succeeding because their founders sit in mahogany desks. They are succeeding because they solve real problems. If African leadership is going to evolve, we have to stop chasing power and start creating value. Titles give you status. Value builds systems. And systems outlive all of us.
This shift is not just African. It’s happening everywhere. The world is flatter now. Remote teams span continents. Artificial intelligence is quietly replacing middle management. Influence does not move up and down anymore; it moves sideways. It flows through trust and networks.
The leaders who will thrive are not the ones enforcing order. They are the ones energising people. They understand three things: competence grows faster than authority, systems outlast personalities, and character goes with you wherever you go. Integrity, curiosity and empathy never expire.
And when the titles fade, people will not remember what was written on your business card. They will remember how you made them feel. I once saw a junior nurse take charge during a hospital emergency. The senior administrators froze. She did not. Months later, she was still the example everyone talked about when they spoke of leadership.
No one remembered her title. Everyone remembered her courage. That’s the real measure of leadership: usefulness multiplied by time. Real power does not come from sitting at the head of the table. It comes from building a table that others can sit around. That’s the kind of value that lasts. The kind that multiplies itself through others.
If your title disappeared tomorrow, what would remain? Would your work still speak? Would your team still move forward? Would your community still feel your impact? Because in the end, titles are rented. Value is owned, and those who understand that will not only survive change, they will redefine what leadership means in the years ahead.
