Public office in many parts of the world, especially in developing nations has become a showpiece. A title to be flaunted. A symbol of power. A shortcut to status. When some public servants enter a room, the instinct is to stand, greet them with fanfare, and shower them with honorifics like “Your Excellency”, “Distinguished Senator”, or “Honorable.” All these are fine in principle until the job becomes about the applause and not the assignment. Here in Africa, we have confused leadership with lordship.
We have allowed the myth to grow that public office is a throne, and the person sitting on it deserves uncritical loyalty. That somehow, once elected or appointed, an official becomes elevated, untouchable, and above the people they’re meant to serve. This culture is harmful because it breeds entitlement, weakens institutions, and bankrupts the soul of a nation. Let’s tell the truth. Public office is not personal property. It’s a borrowed seat that is held in trust, and paid for by taxpayers. Yet, we have many leaders act like they own the job and the people who gave it to them. If you look through the Nigerian politics, you will notice that what began as a democratic mandate has quickly mutated into a private empire. Our government houses have turned palaces as our leaders hand over to their family members.
Public funds now finance private lifestyles. By weaponizing poverty, criticism is silenced and loyalty is bought. This is not just bad politics but a national security threat. When those in power stop seeing themselves as accountable, systems collapse. Roads stay broken. Hospitals become morgues. Schools rot. People leave or revolt. The social contract shreds. Service flips the script. It says: I don’t own this office but I’m responsible for it. A servant sees their role as temporary, their power as delegated, and their job as service. They ask: What needs to be done? Who needs to be heard? How can I leave this office better than I found it? Service is demanding. It calls for sacrifice, transparency, and results. It requires showing up even when the cameras are off. It asks leaders to think generationally, not transactionally. This is not theory. In Rwanda, President Paul Kagame’s leadership has emphasized national service, integrity, and infrastructure over personal gain.
In Uruguay, former President José Mujica lived in a modest home, gave away 90 percent of his salary, and remained grounded in the realities of ordinary people. In Singapore, the civil service is run with brutal efficiency, and public officials are held to high ethical and performance standards. These leaders remind us that power, when understood as stewardship, becomes a tool for transformation. Entitlement in political leadership is both tragic and corrosive. It often starts subtly. A sense of self-importance. A taste for special treatment. A belief that the public owes you, not the other way around. Left unchecked, this mentality becomes malignant. Entitled leaders resist accountability. They use public platforms for personal battles.
They make policies that benefit their inner circle. They punish dissent. They expect perpetual loyalty. And they forget that power, in a democracy, is not inherited. One needs only look at how quickly the line between service and self-service blurs. Campaign promises turn to dust. Budget priorities shift to vanity projects. Positions are sold as rewards, not assigned by merit. Soon, corruption becomes a way of life. We’ve become addicted to titles. The moment someone becomes “Honorable,” we treat them as if they’re now wise, righteous, and incapable of wrong. This idolatry turns criticism into taboo. And before you know it, loyalty replaces competence as the currency of political survival. The obsession with titles also makes people chase office for the wrong reasons. They want to enjoy the perks, not its purpose. The goal becomes getting into government, and we see it everywhere: lavish convoys, bloated security details, taxpayer-funded parties.
But no nation ever developed because its leaders wore fine agbadas or had endless protocol. Nations rise on the strength of institutions, policies, and consistent service delivery. Servant leadership is effective. It centers the people. It listens and corrects course. It makes decisions based on evidence, not ego. A servant leader is accessible. They explain their actions. They invest in human capital and build systems that outlive them. Think of the difference between a leader who builds schools in their hometown as a political stunt and one who reforms the national education system for every child. One seeks applause while the other leaves a legacy. A servant leader doesn’t need loud praise. Their work speaks. Their legacy is visible in literacy rates, health outcomes, jobs created, and trust restored. It’s not enough to elect people who talk well. We must demand outcomes.
Appointments should not be about ethnic balance or political IOUs. They should be about competence, vision, and values. The real test of leadership is not how grand your inauguration was but what your scorecard says after four years. This requires a culture shift. Citizens must start tracking results. Civil society must demand performance reports, not photo-ops. The media must ask tougher questions. And political parties must reward performance over loyalty. We need to build a leadership culture where no one gets a second term without proving they earned the first. Every public servant should remember: the job ends. The convoy fades. The phones stop ringing.
The aides move on. What remains is your record. Did you serve the people or yourself? Did you speak truth or play politics? Did you build systems or promote sycophants? Public office is a test of one’s leadership capital and character. Too many have failed it. But we don’t have to repeat the cycle. It starts with mindset. Leaders must reject the idea that public office is a reward. It’s a responsibility. They must enter office asking: What must I do while I have this chance? And more importantly, how do I prepare others to carry the torch after me? It continues with structure. Governments should invest in leadership development, performance management, and open governance.
We need dashboards that track project completion, service delivery, and spending. Let citizens see where the money goes. Let them score their leaders. And it ends with civic pressure. Citizens must stop cheering titles and start demanding substance. Don’t stand for a leader because they walked in. Stand when they’ve walked the talk. A nation is not built in the air-conditioned chambers of government. It’s built in the hearts of ordinary people who feel seen, served, and respected by those in power. So, let’s stop the pageantry. Let’s retire the title obsession. Let’s lead by service because titles don’t build nations. People do. With their hands. With their honesty. With their commitment to something bigger than themselves. And if you’re holding public office right now, here’s your reminder: You are a custodian, therefore, act like it.
Linus Okorie MFR is a leadership development expert spanning 30 years in the research, teaching and coaching of leadership in Africa and across the world. He is the CEO of the GOTNI Leadership Centre. www.gotni.africa
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