The Hardest Question in the Room
A young communications officer called me the morning the news came out. She had watched the Vice President resign, the Ruling Party remove Dr. Emmanuel Nchimbi days later, and Deogratius Ndejembi named to take his place. The lady did not want a history lesson. She wanted to know what to say. “What do we tell people?” she asked. After more than a decade in this work, that is the hardest question in the room. Speak First, Before the Rumors Do
Because a reshuffle is never just a reshuffle.
The moment a top leader is removed, our job changes. It stops being simple news-sharing and becomes something harder. When people do not know what happened, they start to guess. And guesses turn into rumors fast, that the party is breaking apart, that someone is sick, that big policies are about to change. Rumors do not sleep. So the first job is to speak early and clearly: one agreed message, sent out before the wrong story spreads. We do not let people call it a “crisis.” We explain it in calm terms, the government is reorganizing to work better and serve people faster. Saying nothing does not help. Silence only gives rumors room to grow.
Every Group Hears a Different Alarm
But one message is not enough, because a reshuffle touches many groups at once, and each group worries about something different. Government workers want to know if their jobs are safe and if their instructions still stand. Party leaders need to say the same thing, so no two of them say something different in public. Business people and investors, who can move money and prices on a single rumor, need to hear that things are stable. Foreign partners and embassies, who have watched this country closely since last October, read every sign. And the public, the biggest and most impatient group, needs the plain facts before the wild stories reach them. So we do not tell everyone at once. Communications specialists tell the people inside first, so that when the public statement comes out, no one is surprised.
Show What Has Not Changed
Through all of this, we also have to show what has not changed. The faces are new, but the goals, the promises and the direction have not changed. And we must say this like real people, not like a machine, in plain, kind words. In a tense moment, people trust warmth, not big words. People can accept change. What they cannot accept is being spoken to as if they were foolish.
Then comes the part many forget: the reshuffle is not the end of the story. It is the start of one. The first thirty days decide whether people accept the new leader or only put up with him. So we introduce him carefully, not with noise: early visits, meetings where he listens more than he speaks, and real effort to earn trust instead of expecting it. We also stop talking only from the top down. We let people talk back, through open forums and honest questions, and we keep watching the news and the mood, so we can answer a small rumor before it grows into a fire.
The Truth-Teller and the Yes-Man
That is the work. But let me be honest, because honesty is all I have to offer. Our job is not judged by the nice statements we write on calm days. It is judged by the advice we give when things go wrong. And here we split into two kinds of people. There is the one who tells the boss the truth, even when it hurts, because once people stop trusting an institution, that trust is very hard to win back. And there is the other kind, the yes-man, the one I always call chawa, who says only what the boss wants to hear. When leaders change, the yes-man does well. He praises the new one, forgets the old one, and calls every sudden move a work of genius. It is easy work, and it pays well. It is also how good institutions slowly go blind.
Our Answer Is a Habit, Not a Line
So, what did I tell the young officer? I told her our answer is not one sentence. It is a habit. You say the truth you are allowed to say. Articulate it first. Tell it plainly. Never let silence speak for you. Protect the institution more than any one seat inside it. And every single day, say no to the easy money of the yes-man. The chair will change again, it always does. The only question is whether there is still someone in the room brave enough to be believed.
