Ooops! Not again

“Good morning class, today we will be taking the topic: The Essence of Effective Leadership in Management.”

I paused, letting the words hang in the air as I scanned the room. A few students leaned forward with bright eyes, notebooks already open. Others looked like they had dragged themselves out of bed purely because attendance counted for something. And then, of course, there was a boy at the back, hoodie up, head sinking into his folded arms as though the desk had suddenly transformed into a pillow.

Suppressing a grin, I clasped my hands together. “Don’t worry,” I said, my tone playful. “I won’t bore you into a coma. Leadership is not about making people sleep through meetings, and management is not about checking who’s awake. Though…” I let my eyes linger dramatically on the hoodie boy at the back, “…sometimes a good manager needs to check that too.”

The class erupted in laughter, and the boy bolted upright, cheeks pink with embarrassment. Success. Step one of effective teaching: keep them awake.

“Alright,” I continued smoothly, “before we dive into the deep stuff, let me ask you a question. How many of you think leadership and management are the same thing?”

A few hesitant hands rose into the air.

“And how many of you think they’re different?”

This time, more hands shot up, accompanied by smug glances at their slower classmates.

“Good, good,” I nodded. “And how many of you don’t care, as long as you pass the exam?”

The response was immediate. Half the class laughed and raised their hands without shame.

“Ah, honesty,” I said, pointing approvingly. “That’s leadership material right there. You know telling the truth even when it doesn’t sound impressive.”

I began pacing slowly, making deliberate eye contact. A good lecturer never just talks; she pulls the students into the rhythm of the class.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “Leadership and management are not enemies. They’re twins. Fraternal twins, not identical. Management is about structure, order, and making sure things don’t explode. Leadership is about vision, inspiration, and making people want to prevent the explosion in the first place.”

A hand went up in the second row. “Ma, are you saying a leader is more important than a manager?”

I smiled and shook my head. “No. Imagine you’re on a plane. The pilot is your leader, he tells you where you’re going and inspires you to trust him. The flight attendant is your manager, she makes sure you’re buckled in and don’t open the emergency door midair. Now, tell me, which one would you rather do without?”

“None!” the students chorused, laughing again.

“Exactly,” I said, tapping the board with my marker. “Both are crucial.”

I wrote in big letters:

Leadership = Vision.

Management = Order.

“Now let’s make this practical. Imagine you’re working on a group project. Half your team wants to rush through it, the other half wants to perfect it until judgment day, and one person” I pointed toward a boy near the front who had been distractedly munching biscuits “is only there to eat the group’s snacks.”

The room exploded with laughter. The poor student laughed along, raising his hands in surrender.

“What do you do in such a situation?” I asked.

A girl near the window raised her hand. “You manage by dividing roles properly.”

“Good,” I said with an encouraging nod. “And?”

“You lead by reminding them of the bigger goal,” another voice piped up from the back.

“Exactly!” I clapped my hands once. “See? You’re already practicing both leadership and management without realizing it.”

I leaned forward conspiratorially. “But let me warn you, sometimes leadership means motivating people who would rather watch N*****x. And management means reminding them that deadlines don’t magically move because they’re tired. Both require patience… and maybe caffeine.”

That earned another ripple of laughter, and I could see the sleepy eyes brightening. Humor was a good ally in education.

“Alright,” I announced, clapping my hands again. “Let’s test this with a quick activity. Form groups of four. Your scenario is this: you’re running a startup, and just before your big product launch, your top employee quits. What will you do as managers? What will you do as leaders?”

The room came alive. Chairs screeched against the tiled floor as students clustered together. Voices rose in lively debates. Some groups leaned in with serious expressions, others gesticulated wildly as if they were already in the boardroom of their imaginary companies.

I strolled between them, hands clasped behind my back, pretending to inspect like a strict examiner, though inwardly amused. I overheard one group arguing about whether pep talks alone could keep morale alive. Another insisted that the only answer was hiring a quick replacement.

Leaning over one particularly noisy group, I raised a brow. “So your solution is to cry and hope for a miracle?”

They burst out laughing. One student quickly waved his hand. “No, ma! We said we’d divide the workload and motivate each other.”

“Ah, much better,” I said with a wink. “Crying never looks professional in the annual report.”

After ten minutes, I called the class back together. “Alright, Group One, let’s hear you.”

A spokesperson stood, looking both nervous and proud. “We decided the manager would redistribute the work while the leader would motivate the team by reminding them why the project matters.”

“Well said!” I applauded. “Balance of backbone and heart. That’s the sweet spot.”

Group Two went next. Their solution involved outsourcing some of the work and buying pizza for the remaining team to keep morale high.

“Pizza as a leadership tool,” I repeated, stroking my chin dramatically as though considering rewriting the syllabus. “Interesting. I must update my textbooks.”

The students chuckled, and one whispered loudly, “Ma, you’ll need extra cheese!” which triggered another round of laughter.

By the time each group presented, the lecture hall buzzed with energy. Even the shy ones had been coaxed into speaking up, their voices shaky at first but gaining strength with every word. That was the magic of interactive learning: everyone found their role, whether as speaker, thinker, or snack-protector.

As the clock edged closer to the end of class, I underlined the two words on the board:

Leadership. Management.

“Remember,” I said, raising my voice just enough to command silence, “one without the other is incomplete. Together, they transform ordinary groups into extraordinary teams.”

I let the silence stretch, giving the weight of the lesson time to sink in. Then I added with a sly smile, “And if all else fails, yes… pizza does help.”

The room erupted into laughter one last time. Even hoodie boy laughed, fully awake now.

The bell rang, and students began shuffling their books into bags, still smiling and chatting animatedly about leadership and pizza.

“Thank you for your attention,” I said warmly. “And your laughter. You’ll need both in the real world.”

As I watched them file out, I felt that familiar, satisfying glow. A good lecture wasn’t about talking endlessly. It was about planting seeds of thought and if you could make people laugh while they grew, well, that was leadership in itself.

I was so happy with how my morning class went. I had so much fun that I almost forgot about all my issues. This is why I love teaching and why I was so happy when Gift propose this job to me.

I packed up all my books and headed out of the lecture hall back to my office.

Oops!!! I hit someone again.

Looking up I saw it was no other than “Adrian Wealth”

“Not again!” We both said at the same time with our eyes wide open.