Life Without Semesters

Daily reflections on doing work that matters. No maps. No deadlines. Just the audacity to lead, create, and carve your own path every day.

The Illusion of Control

Control feels good. It feels safe. As a leader, you’re expected to be in control, right? To have the answers, to guide the team, and ensure that everything stays on track. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: control is an illusion.

Think back to the last time you tried to manage every detail of a project or micromanage your team. How did it end up? Sure, things might have gotten done, but at what cost? Stress, frustration, and a team that’s more focused on seeking approval than taking initiative.

Now, imagine letting go—not recklessly, but intentionally. Imagine creating space for your team to take ownership, to step into their potential. What if, instead of focusing on controlling outcomes, you focused on influencing behaviors? That’s where real leadership begins.

The Paradox of Control

Here’s the paradox: the more you try to control, the less control you actually have.

I once worked with a leader obsessed with control. Every decision had to go through him. Every move needed his approval. He became the bottleneck, and it was suffocating the team’s creativity. This was a talented team—brilliant, even—but they were shackled by his need to manage every detail.

What was he afraid of? That without his tight grip, the team would crumble, projects would slip, and chaos would take over. But the irony was that his control was causing the very problems he feared. By holding on too tightly, he was losing the one thing he needed most: trust.

Letting Go to Gain More

Control is an illusion. The tighter you hold on, the more you lose what you’re trying to protect—trust, creativity, ownership. As a leader, the real power doesn’t come from controlling every outcome. It comes from empowering your team to take risks, make decisions, and learn from failures. The most effective leaders influence behavior, create environments where people can thrive, and inspire trust.

So, where do you need to let go? Where is your grip holding back the potential of your team? And if control is an illusion, how can you shift your focus to what really matters—building trust and influencing the right behaviors?

Share on social media

Scaling Agile

Agile: It’s more than a buzzword, more than a set of tools or practices. At its core, agile is the ability to create and respond to change. But when we talk about scaling agile, are we really talking about scaling frameworks like SAFe, LeSS, or Scrum at Scale? Or are we talking about scaling the very mindset that drives agile forward?

In large enterprises, embracing agile often looks like renaming old habits and applying new labels. But what does it truly mean for a company to adopt agile ways of working? Can an organization, steeped in decades of optimizing for efficiency and control, suddenly shift to prioritizing collaboration, experimentation, and continuous learning? When every delay impacts the bottom line, can enterprise leaders really create room for failure, iteration, and growth?

People often say, “Agile is a journey, not a destination.” But what does that mean for a business? If agile is a journey, do we know where we’re headed? If we never arrive, is it still worth the effort? Are we ready to unlearn what we know, to trust in cross-functional teams over rigid processes, and to allow space for innovation?

The question remains: Can agile scale in organizations built on avoiding change? Does scaling agile mean simply applying agile principles from one small, nimble team to the entire company? Or does it require a deeper, fundamental transformation of how the business operates, how decisions are made, and how work gets done?

Does the enterprise really want to be agile, or does it only seek the benefits of agility without the messiness that comes with it? Can you truly scale something that thrives on unpredictability, flexibility, and human creativity?

Maybe the real question isn’t “Can agile scale?” but rather “Should agile scale?”

As organizations embark on their transformation journey, does it matter if they don’t know the destination? Or is the willingness to adapt and evolve the most important part of the journey itself?

Share on social media

Ignore The Anonymous Feedback

I got some anonymous feedback about one of my articles that almost ruined my day.

Almost.

Luckily, I remembered why I never enabled comments on my blog. You can write your comment as a blog post, backlink to my work if you want, but I’m not interested in the distraction of responding to comments. I write every day for a reason, and it’s not for everyone.

Which brings me to anonymous feedback. Should creators take it seriously? I don’t think so, and here’s why:

Anonymous feedback is like a whisper in the hallway or an unsigned note on your desk. It’s easy to throw out criticism when there’s no name attached, no accountability. And the thing is: without a name, it’s just noise. It’s detached from context, and it’s not grounded in a real relationship.

Should we give weight to words that are too easy to say, too easy to hide behind?

If someone truly cares about your work, they’ll put their name to it. They’ll contribute in a meaningful way. Maybe they’ll write their own post, maybe they’ll send you a thoughtful response. That’s how real dialogue happens. Anonymous feedback, on the other hand, is just static. It’s easy to create, hard to trust.

I don’t write for everyone. Neither should you. We create for a tribe—people who are on the same journey, or at least curious about it. The moment you start listening to the nameless crowd, you lose your focus, your why.

Seth Godin said it best: “You won’t benefit from anonymous criticism.”

Not every piece of work will resonate. Not every article will hit home. Some people just won’t get it, and that’s okay. The work you put out is for those who need it, for those who are looking for it. Anonymous feedback? It’s not about improving your work. It’s about someone needing to be heard without standing in the light.

But creators don’t need that. We’re here to make a ruckus, to create for those who show up with their name attached. For those who understand that creation is an invitation, not a debate.

So, ignore anonymous feedback. Don’t let it derail your process. Write, create, and focus on the people who matter—your audience. If someone wants to critique your work, let them do it with their name in the light. Anything less is just static.

And here’s the kicker: you don’t need everyone to agree with you. You just need to keep showing up, every day, for the right people. That’s where the magic happens.

Share on social media

A Manifesto For Community Leadership

A couple of people have been asking me to be the face of the community of practice that I run. I tell my tribe: community leadership isn’t about standing at the front, waving a flag. It’s not about being the loudest voice or having all the answers. It’s about something much deeper, something that defies the traditional notion of leadership.

This tribe didn’t come together because of me. They came because they care, because they believe in something bigger than themselves, because they want to solve problems that matter. Leadership, in this context, isn’t about directing—it’s about creating a space where others feel empowered to step forward.

Real community leadership isn’t about being at the forefront of everything. It’s about fostering an environment where people can thrive, where ideas can bloom, where everyone has a voice. It’s not about holding onto control but letting go. Leadership isn’t ownership, it’s stewardship.

If you think of leadership as something that puts you in the spotlight, you’re missing the point. The best communities aren’t about one person. They’re about collective ownership, shared responsibility, and mutual growth. My role isn’t to be the face—it’s to be a facilitator, a connector. It’s to help create conditions where others can rise, where leadership is distributed, and where no one person carries the burden of being the “leader.”

When we focus too much on having a single leader, we limit the potential of the community. We stifle the creativity that comes from collaboration. A community thrives when everyone feels ownership, when every person feels empowered to contribute, to lead in their own way. And that’s the kind of community I want to build.

Leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about asking the right questions. It’s about listening. It’s about stepping back when needed and stepping in when necessary. It’s knowing when to lead and when to follow. It’s creating the kind of environment where people can find their own way, where they can step into their own leadership roles without needing permission.

The best leaders are the ones who make themselves unnecessary. They create a system where others can lead, where the community sustains itself through shared effort, trust, and collaboration. If I’m doing my job right, you won’t even notice I’m there. That’s the paradox of community leadership—the more you lead by stepping back, the stronger the community becomes.

The goal isn’t to create followers. It’s to create more leaders.

So no, I’m not the face of this community. I’m just one of many. My role is to help others step into their power, to create a platform for voices that need to be heard, to be a part of something bigger than myself. That’s what community leadership is: a collective journey, not a personal one.

In the end, the community doesn’t belong to one person. It belongs to everyone who contributes, who shows up, who cares. Leadership is a privilege, not a right. And the best leaders know when to get out of the way, so others can lead too.

That’s community leadership. It’s not about me. It’s about us.

Share on social media

There are no good days, only today

Oh wait, it’s Monday already? Mondays—you know what they say about them, right? They drag, they’re tough, and they never seem like the right day to start anything new. And yet, we keep waiting for that one perfect day. The day when everything falls into place, the work feels easy, and we finally have the energy to tackle our goals.

The truth is, there are no good days. There’s only today. Good days aren’t some magical event—they’re relative, a reflection of how we choose to see them. We look back and decide, after the fact, that certain days were “good.” But waiting for those days to come? It’s just another way to procrastinate.

Every day, I lace up my shoes and run five miles. Some days, I feel strong, like I could keep going forever. Other days, every step feels like a struggle. But no matter how I feel, those five miles are there, waiting for me. The key isn’t to wait for a day when running feels effortless—it’s to do it even when it’s hard.

The challenge isn’t in finding the right day or waiting for things to feel easy. It’s about showing up when everything feels difficult. Because tomorrow? It’s just another today with a fresh set of excuses. It’s not going to magically get easier. You won’t suddenly feel ready.

There are no good days waiting to rescue you from the grind. What you have is today. That’s all you need. So, start when it’s hard. Those are the moments that matter most. It’s never going to get easier, and that’s why you need to do it now.

There are no good days—only today.

Share on social media

The Ripple Effects Of Changing Habits

When I first moved in with my partner, we often argued over what I called “little stuff”—like turning off the lights after using the bathroom or keeping lights on during the day. To me, these seemed minor, but to my partner, they were significant.

Growing up in Nigeria, electricity was a rare luxury. We had to leave the switch on as a way to confirm that the power was working. The joy of shouting “Up NEPA!”—a nod to the electricity distribution agency—whenever the lights came on was a cherished part of my childhood. It was more than just light; it was a symbol of progress.

Decades later, even with a constant power supply, I clung to these old habits. The simple act of leaving lights on was my way of holding onto a piece of my past.

But recently, something shifted. After a guest left the lights on and I turned them off, I felt a surprising change within me. It was as if I was not only conserving energy but also letting go of an old habit. This seemingly small act connected me to my present values and reflected my personal growth.

This experience highlights the ripple effect of our actions. Every choice, no matter how small, can influence our lives and the world around us. By consciously changing our habits, we can create positive ripples of transformation.

So next time you’re dealing with seemingly trivial habits, remember: every action has the potential to create meaningful change. Sometimes, it’s these small, intentional shifts that reveal the true extent of our personal evolution.

Share on social media

You have reached the end. Subscribe to get new updates delivered to your inbox!

Subscribe To My Newsletter

Would you like to stay up to date with the latest stories and articles on my Blog?
Subscribe to my newsletter below! Be sure to use your best e-mail address.