“Leadershits” – Debunking the Leadership Myth in Morocco and Beyond

We live in a time where the word leadership has become both a currency and a costume. Everyone wants to be a leader. Everyone wants to be seen, heard, celebrated. We chase leadership like it’s the end goal, a prize to be won, not a responsibility to be earned.

But let me tell you something I’ve learned after 15 years of working with youth movements, social innovation programs, and so-called changemakers: not all leadership is leadership. Much of what we glorify is exactly the opposite. It’s ego. It’s branding. It’s decoration.

I’ve seen it so many times I had to give it a name: leadershits!

Yes, leadershits, the phenomenon where power masks itself as purpose. Where charismatic individuals hijack collective missions. Where the language of empowerment is used to dominate, not liberate.

This article is not an attack. It’s a mirror. If we’re serious about social change, especially in Morocco, we need to stop pretending that leadership is always the answer. Because sometimes, it’s the problem.

The Leadership Costume

Let’s start here.

I’ve lost count of how many young people I’ve met with 10 leadership certificates and zero real-world impact. They’ve become professionals at the game, applying to every call, jumping from one fellowship to another, mastering the pitch language: “I’m passionate about change… I empower youth… I use innovation for impact.”

But ask them what they’ve built, who they’ve helped, what systems they’ve challenged silence.

This is not their fault entirely. We’ve created a system that rewards optics over substance. Donors want shiny “success stories.” Panels want confident speakers. Programs want LinkedIn-worthy graduates. So naturally, people learn to perform leadership, not live it.

We’ve turned leadership into a costume. A persona you wear to gain access, opportunities, and applause. But take off the costume, and too often there’s nothing underneath, no integrity, no empathy, no service.

That’s leadershits.

The Moroccan Version: “President Forever”

Now let’s talk about Morocco.

Here, leadership takes on a special flavor. From student associations to national NGOs, we love the term Président. Everyone wants to be one. But once you become President, you never leave. You extend your mandate. You cancel elections. You say “The team is not ready yet.” Sound familiar?

I once worked with a student association where the founder, a brilliant young man, launched an education project that gained serious traction. But two years in, things started to fall apart. Why? Because he refused to let anyone else lead. He blocked every new idea unless it came from him. Every decision had to pass through his WhatsApp. And every success had to have his name on it.

When I asked him why, he said:

“They don’t get the vision like I do.”

There it was. The classic leadershits line.

He had mistaken leadership for ownership. And in doing so, he killed the very spirit of collaboration that made the project successful.

Sadly, this isn’t rare. In our schools, our startups, even our political landscape, we’ve been trained to centralize power. To climb to the top, and stay there. Leadership becomes about possession, not participation. And once you sit in the chair, you forget the people who helped you build it.

When the Wrong People Leave

Here’s what hurts the most: leadershits doesn’t just block progress, it pushes out the right people.

I’ve seen some of the most committed, creative young women leave projects because of toxic male “leaders” who used empowerment language to hide manipulation. I’ve seen volunteer teams burn out while their “founder” travels from summit to summit, collecting applause.

Once, in a national innovation program, I met a soft-spoken young woman from a remote village. She had launched a local literacy circle for women using just old notebooks and community spaces. No funding. No fancy logo. No social media.

In the leadership training sessions, she barely spoke. The mentors overlooked her. She wasn’t “dynamic” enough.

Months later, I visited her village. Over 200 women were attending weekly sessions. Some had started microbusinesses. Others were helping their daughters apply to university.

Meanwhile, some of the loudest voices from that training had done… nothing. But they had glowing profiles, polished speeches, and thousands of followers.

You tell me, who was the leader?

The Leadership Industry

Let’s go deeper.

The problem isn’t just individuals , it’s the industry of leadership. We’ve made it a market. A product. And like any market, it’s driven by demand, packaging, and image.

Leadership programs, summits, awards, many have become echo chambers. They don’t reward service; they reward visibility. They don’t train leaders; they manufacture celebrities.

And in this world, you learn quickly: it’s better to look impactful than to be impactful. Better to create a personal brand than a sustainable system. Better to speak about change than to do the hard, unglamorous, unpaid work of real change.

It’s easier to be the leader of a dying project than a humble contributor to a thriving one. Because one gives you the stage. The other gives you results, but no spotlights

Imported Leadership, Erased Roots

We also need to question the leadership models we’re importing.

Most “leadership development” programs in the Global South are built on Western assumptions: that leaders are individuals, that change is top-down, and that visibility equals impact. But in many Moroccan communities, especially rural ones, leadership looks very different.

The real “leaders” don’t speak in hashtags. They organize in tea shops. They mediate between neighbors. They mobilize without microphones.

But they don’t get invited to summits. They don’t speak the right language. They don’t have Canva-ready decks. So they’re ignored.

This is also leadershits , the quiet erasure of grassroots wisdom in favor of a globalized leadership mold.

So What Do We Do?

We unlearn.

First, we must detox from the myth. Leadership is not the goal. It’s not a personality type. It’s not a badge. It’s a temporary role in service of a greater mission. If you cling to it, you’re doing it wrong.

We decentralize.

Let’s stop obsessing over “who is the leader” and start asking “How do we share power?” At MasterPeace Morocco, some of our best initiatives were co-led, with rotating roles and horizontal decision-making. It’s messy. Slower. But real.

We elevate the invisible.

Let’s give platforms to those doing the quiet work. Not just the ones with the best English or the biggest followers. Let’s fund, mentor, and spotlight the women in the villages, the youth fixing local problems without an audience.

We teach people to step back.

A true leader knows when to sit down. When to pass the mic. When to become a mentor, not a mascot. It’s not about staying relevant. It’s about staying useful.

A Final Word

Let me say something simple but hard:

• It’s okay not to want to lead.
• You can be a changemaker without a title. You can be impactful without a stage. You can build without branding yourself.
• In fact, most of the real work happens away from the spotlight, in small rooms, deep relationships, land ong nights.
• Let’s stop selling leadership as the only path. It’s not for everyone. And that’s okay because maybe the best leaders are the ones you never hear about.

And maybe the best leadership , is no leadership at all.