Naina graduated top of her class from one of the premier management schools in the country and got placed on Day Zero in a company of her choice. She had a challenging role, a competitive salary, envious benefits, and a supportive team. Life seemed to be good. A year into her job, the company’s leadership changed, and a new MD was brought in to drive transformation and prepare the company to meet emerging market challenges.
Naina and the other employees listened with rapt attention as the new MD spoke about his grand vision and seven-point agenda to turn the company around. When he asked for the support of his ‘family’—the organisation’s employees—there was resounding applause and everyone expressed enthusiastic encouragement. When the MD asked for volunteers to participate in the ‘new agenda,’ Naina was among the first to sign up. What could be better than working directly with the leader on organisational transformation, and that too so early in her career? She was eager to apply all her management and consulting training from her MBA classes to this new directive. She spoke glowingly about how well the MD understood the company’s ethos, culture, and people—whom he called his family—even though he had only just come on board. He seemed like the perfect person to drive the company forward. It felt like a match made in heaven.
Naina and the other volunteers were welcomed aboard by the MD. He appreciated their willingness to go beyond the call of duty and praised them as exemplary organisational citizens. He then laid out his plan of action and asked for their input. Over the next three months, Naina worked in a cross-functional team of seven volunteers on the ‘new agenda’ alongside her usual work responsibilities.
As the meetings progressed—where strategic initiatives were discussed and plans for expanding into new geographies were debated—Naina began to realise that the MD’s speeches were just that: speeches, full of empty promises. In close quarters, it became clear that he cared only about profit, often at the expense of employee wellbeing, company values, ethics, and morality. In one meeting, she even heard him mocking his ‘naive employees’ who believed that workplace could be a family. Naina felt betrayed. She confided in a senior colleague, who simply laughed at her for being so naive.
It was a punch to the gut. She had imagined retiring with this company, led by a compassionate leader, grounded in values, and one that made employees feel like family. She had no idea it was all a corporate façade masking a grim reality. Others seemed to accept it as business as usual. But now that she had removed her rose-tinted glasses, she began to notice things. She saw how most employees stayed back late to appear hardworking, a behaviour seemingly appreciated by their superiors. She noticed some used technology not to enhance efficiency, but to fool the system through deviant practices like ‘mouse-jiggling’.
The final straw came when the MD presented the new agenda to the entire company, in the presence of the CEO and the Group President, claiming sole credit for the work and giving only a perfunctory nod to the team of volunteers, suggesting they had contributed very little. Naina felt completely let down—her trust violated, and her sense of belonging shattered.
She spoke to friends in other companies but found little comfort in their words, which echoed similar stories. “No one said work had to be our happy place,” remarked one of her closest friends. Naina returned to work the next day, the next week, and the next month, doing what was asked of her. She eventually regained her smile and cheer, but inside, she felt like an outsider looking in. So deep was her disillusioned that she could no longer bring herself to participate in workplace activities or even small team celebrations. She found it difficult to distinguish between genuine camaraderie and performative collaboration.
At her next appraisal, her boss recommended her for an accelerated leadership development programme—the MD would personally mentor the next generation of young leaders. Naina recoiled and declined. She was ready to fulfil her duties, the good soldier she had always been, but she no longer saw herself staying long enough to become a leader in the organisation.
Naina became increasingly reticent, even when she saw new employees struggling to adjust. She did her part and never got in anyone’s way. But the woman who had once mentored newcomers, spoken passionately in meetings, volunteered for activities, and referred candidates for roles, had become a quiet worker—submitting her reports on time, fixing bugs, making small talk in the cafeteria, and nodding through meetings.
This disillusionment, especially in previously engaged and productive employees, should be a warning sign to leadership. It is troubling when the ‘good soldiers’ retreat, when the passionate voices fall silent. Leaders must take a hard, honest look at what went wrong to cause capable individuals to become disengaged. If not, they find themselves surrounded by productive, yet dissatisfied and disengaged employees.
Employees like Naina are the happy warriors of an organisation. When they go silent, leaders must act—not with eloquent speeches, but with genuine, meaningful steps that rebuild trust, reignite belonging, and restore belief in the good fight.
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