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The View from the Ground Floor- Letter 008

Updated: Jul 30, 2025

🪘African Proverb: "The child who fetches water cannot forget how to walk to the stream."
A powerful black woman in a corporate suit standing in a modern office building, symbolising leadership formed from the ground up — the view from the ground floor.

Dear Daughter,


There is something sacred about the ground floor.


It’s where character is carved, not handed out, where humility is formed, not assumed, where the long walk to the stream becomes the very path that shapes your stride.


In my journey — both in faith and in the corporate corridors — I’ve noticed something.

Those who never had to carry the load from the bottom often struggle to hold the hearts of the people they now lead.


Titles can be assigned, but empathy cannot.

Promotions can open doors, but only formation prepares you to steward what’s on the other side.


🪘Consider David: — the shepherd boy turned king. Before the palace, there was the pasture.

Before the crown, there was the cave.

God didn’t anoint him in the throne room — He found him in the field (1 Samuel 16:11–13).

Because heaven honours those who grow through the ranks.


The sling in his hand wasn’t just a weapon; it was a testimony. He had fought lions in silence, long before he faced giants in public.


🪘Even Jesus climbed

 Thirty years of preparation for three years of public impact. No shortcuts. No skipping steps. He grew in wisdom, stature, and favour with God and man (Luke 2:52). Heaven honours the long route.


In the corporate world, I’ve seen this too.

Leaders who rise too fast without touchpoints at the ground level often build policies but not people.

They know strategy but lack sight.

They understand performance but forget humanity.

And without remembering the hallway, the boardroom becomes an echo chamber.


Leadership isn’t just about direction — it’s about discernment.

The kind that only comes when you’ve been under pressure yourself. Because to lead well, you must grow in your capacity to accommodate stress — not just your own, but the stress of others.


Leadership means stepping into rooms full of silent tensions and knowing how to make people feel seen.

It means remembering that each person brings their peculiar battles to work, to church, to community — and your role isn’t to flatten those differences, but to engage them with grace.


To lead well, you must listen to what matters to each heart. They carry not just the project, but the people.

Because leadership is not just task-driven — it’s soul-sensitive. You must remember what you needed when no one noticed you.


And here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: 

There will always be another target.

Another deliverable.

Another quarterly review.

There will always be a “next.”

But leaders — if you don’t pause long enough to truly see your people, you’ll start treating humans like line items.


I’ve been there.


There was once a company I dreamed of working at — a consultancy I poured myself into. I didn’t just meet expectations, I stretched beyond them. Took on side-of-desk tasks that weren’t required but helped the whole system work better. I gave them my late nights, my quiet prayers, my whole heart.


When redundancy came, I wasn’t in the first round. But the cuts went deeper. The cut-off point was 80% chargeability. I was at 79.8%.


And just like that — I became a number. A decimal. A resource on a spreadsheet.


It hurt. Not just the job loss — but the realisation that systems without sight will always value output over essence.

That in many organisations, your worth ends where their budget begins.


But I also learned something powerful: what man reduces, God redeems.


And the kind of leader I became after that?

Softer. Stronger. Wiser. More intentional. Because I vowed that when I lead, no one under my care will ever feel like a fraction.


This was true for Zawadi, too. In Five Good Years, she started from the bottom — often invisible, often dismissed. Her early days were spent at reception desks, taking lunch breaks alone, swallowing shame and insecurity like clockwork.


But those days?

They sharpened her eye.

They softened her voice.

They taught her how to see people whom others walk past.

By the time she rose to manage projects and lead teams, she led with grace because she remembered pain.

And that memory made her leadership not just effective — but healing.



🩷 The View from the Ground Floor

That’s why the view from the ground floor matters. It’s not just a memory — it’s a ministry. It shapes the way we hold space for others, especially when power gives us the option not to.


When someone skips the stretch, they often miss the weight.


They forget what it means to be spoken over, to be underestimated, to be the one setting up the room before the meeting starts.


But if you’ve grown through the ranks — if you’ve been the intern, the assistant, the overlooked contributor — you know something they don’t: how it feels to be human under pressure.


And that memory? It’s holy. Hold onto it.


God does His best formation work in the unseen places.

The quiet yes.

The faithful follow-through.

The 6 AM prayer before the 8 AM team call.

The long obedience in the same direction.

If you’re still there — still in the middle of the climb — don’t despise it. Every step is equipping you with compassion that can’t be taught in a boardroom.


The world promotes speed. But heaven promotes formation.


And one day, when you’re leading teams, raising children, or stewarding influence — you’ll do it from a different place.


Not from ego. But from remembrance.


Because when the doors open, you won’t just walk in. You’ll walk in ready.



Built for the weight. Formed by the climb. Called to the core.


🩷 Reflection Questions:

  1. Where have I grown through the ranks in silence — and what did that season teach me about people, pressure, and purpose?

    (Pause and honour the places that felt overlooked but were essential to your formation.)

  2. Am I leading from remembrance or reaction?

    (Have I forgotten the hallway now that I sit in the boardroom?)

  3. Who around me is still on the ground floor — and how can I honour their humanity, not just their output?

    (Leadership begins with sight. Who needs to be seen this week?)



🩷 Becoming Moves

  1. Honour your formation.

    Write down the names of three people or roles you played on the “ground floor” of your journey. What did they teach you?

  2. Reach back.

    Send encouragement to someone still climbing. Let them know their season matters.

  3. Audit your leadership.

    Are your decisions rooted in empathy or just efficiency?

  4. Pause the pursuit.

    Block time this week not for output, but for reflection.

  5. Commit to memory.

    Journal a story from your early career that you never want to forget — and let it shape your next leadership decision.



🩷 Scripture Anchors

  • 1 Samuel 16:11–13 – David was anointed while still in the field.

  • Luke 2:52 – Jesus grew in wisdom, stature, and favour.

  • Philippians 2:7 – “He made Himself of no reputation… and became obedient.”

  • Romans 5:3–4 – “Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

  • Galatians 6:9 – “Let us not grow weary in doing good…”



Remember David. Remember Zawadi. Remember the ladder. Remember your God.


You’re not behind. You’re being built.

Warmly,

Deutina

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