We often measure impact in hectares restored or species protected. But it also shows up in ways that don’t make it into headlines or glossy annual reports. Those intangible changes – how leaders grow, how trust is built, and how space is created for new voices to emerge – are a key element of strong organisations that drive long-term impact.
Our leadership programs aim to catalyze that shift by working more closely, and personally, with founders and leaders themselves, helping them to gain deeper self-awareness that can translate into stronger leadership.
In this guest article, Abigael Kandie, Communications Officer at the Ogiek Peoples’ Development Program, reflects on her recent journey as a participant of the sixth cohort of the African Conservation Leadership Network (ACLN 6). She explores the kind of impact that’s rooted in personal transformation, intergenerational learning and the power of community. Her powerful story reminds us that lasting impact begins with how we lead ourselves… and each other.
By Abigael Kandie
We came in as questions; curious, hopeful, slightly unsure… some of us ready to lead, others just trying to figure out what leadership even means. But before all that, we were reminded of something simple… and somehow revolutionary: that before we are leaders, we are human. Beautifully, imperfectly, wonderfully human, messy in our becoming, brilliant in our own quiet ways, carrying both light and shadow in the same breath. With emotions we don’t always understand, habits we didn’t choose, stories we’re still rewriting and younger versions of ourselves still peeking through, still asking to be seen, to be heard, to be held.
And somehow, in this space, we were allowed. Allowed to feel. Allowed to be vulnerable. Allowed to show up without the armor. To laugh loudly without apology, to sit in silence without pressure, to say “I don’t know” and not feel small. To meet our inner children again; the curious ones, the playful ones, the ones who once led without fear and gently invite them back into the room.
And so the journey began, not with strategies or plans, but with self. Learning to lead self. To pause, really pause. To reflect honestly, sometimes uncomfortably. To sit with ourselves long enough to say, “Ah… so this is who I am… and this too… and this too…” And then came perspective. Oh… perspective. The soft shock of realizing that the world is not one story, but many. That what feels obvious to me might feel completely unfamiliar to you. That truth has layers. That listening, real listening, is an act of love.
And then… the MBTI tests. At first, we said, “What is this witchcraft?” How can a few questions hold up a mirror so clear, so specific, so… accurate? We laughed, we doubted, we side-eyed it. But slowly, those letters stopped being random and became reflections. Mirrors that whispered: “This is how you see.” “This is how you decide.” “This is how you show up.” And instead of boxing us in, they opened us up wide. To ourselves, to each other, to the beautiful, unpredictable poetry of personality. The introverts who needed a minute (or ten… or a whole recharge), the extroverts who were already halfway through the story, the planners with color-coded clarity, the dreamers with galaxies in their minds, the feelers, the thinkers, the quiet observers, the bold voices and all of us, different notes, learning to make one song.
And somewhere in that rhythm, we found ubuntu “I am because we are.” Not just a phrase, but a pulse, a heartbeat we began to share. And undugu a warmth, a closeness, a knowing that “I see you… fully… and you belong.” We laughed, deep, contagious, from-the-belly laughter. We questioned, sometimes gently, sometimes fiercely. We held space for joy, for doubt, for everything in between. We showed up again and again, not as perfect people, but as present ones. And without realizing it, we became teams. Not perfect teams, but real ones. Built not on sameness, but on trust, the kind of trust that takes time, that asks for honesty, that grows quietly and then suddenly feels unshakable.
And then vruuuum! the journey stretched us further, into collaboration, into systems, into the realization that nothing meaningful stands alone. That conservation, like leadership, is not about control, but connection.
Not about silos, but living, breathing systems. Not about one voice rising above, but many voices learning to rise together. And yes, along the way, we gathered tools.Frameworks that challenged how we think, questions that refused simple answers, practices that asked us to slow down, to listen deeper, to trust the process and each other. Our toolboxes are NOW full. Rich, layered and alive. But more importantly… so are we.
And through it all,the patience. The kind of patience you can feel. The listening that made space, the preparation that held intention, the quiet guidance that met us exactly where we were.
You didn’t rush us. You didn’t force us. You walked with us, step by step, moment by moment. (And truly… thank you for holding us, and for surviving us too.)
Today, we are not only graduating but we also emerging. Emerging As humans first; aware, reflective, still becoming. As leaders of self, grounded and awake. As leaders of teams, connected and compassionate. As leaders of collaborations, brave enough to trust the system.
So here is the call Cohort 6, are we ready?
Ready to shift the conservation story from exclusion to belonging, from “protecting from people” to “protecting with people,” from rigid systems to living, breathing ones built on trust? Ready to carry perspective into every room, to pause, to listen and to understand before acting? Ready to embrace the truth that leadership is not about sameness, but about weaving our differences into strength?
Then let us go. With courage that is steady, with curiosity that stays open, with just enough confidence to lead and just enough humility to keep learning. Let us go knowing that the world does not need perfect leaders, it needs human ones.
And before we do, we pause, just for a moment, in gratitude. To those who guided us, who listened deeply, who prepared with care, who created this space where we could feel, be, and become, thank you.
And to Maliasili, thank you for this journey. For the mirrors, for the questions, for the laughter, for the growth. For reminding us that leadership is not a title… it is a practice.
And now, Cohort 6… let’s go change the story.
(OOOW...And yes… we trust the “witchcraft” now.)
