The moment Kofi’s resignation email dropped, the office changed.
Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just subtly.
Keyboards slowed. People leaned back in their chairs. Someone let out a small “Ei.” Another person smiled in a way that wasn’t quite happy. By the time most people finished reading the subject line, the office had already decided what the story was.
“He couldn’t cope.”
“This place showed him pepper.”
“Let’s see how long he lasts at the next place.”
By lunchtime, Kofi’s decision had become office gossip.
At the pantry, Kwame laughed as he stirred his tea. “So now he’s going to ‘bigger opportunities’, abi?”
A few people chuckled. The kind of laughter that hides behind jokes but carries judgment. Nana Ama stood there quietly, smiling out of politeness, even though something about the conversation didn’t sit right with her.
At the open desk area, Afia shook her head. “Everywhere he goes, it won’t work. Some people just don’t have staying power.”
Again, laughter. Soft. Casual. Dismissive.
What no one mentioned were the nights Kofi stayed late while others left at 5 p.m. The meetings where his ideas were brushed aside. The promises of “we’ll revisit this” that never got revisited. The anxiety that followed him home on Sundays sitting quietly beside him, worried like an unpaid intern.
Resigning isn’t always about failure. Sometimes, it’s about choosing peace. Sometimes, it’s about growth. Sometimes, it’s about staying sane.
But offices don’t always leave room for that truth.
Mr. Owusu, who had been with the company for over a decade, shook his head when the topic came up. “These young people don’t have patience. No loyalty.”
Nana Ama nodded politely, but inside, she wondered if loyalty without fulfilment was something to be proud of. If staying, while silently unhappy, was really the badge of honour people made it seem.
Just because someone hasn’t resigned doesn’t mean they’re thriving. And just because someone resigns doesn’t mean they’ve failed.
In many Ghanaian workplaces, staying long is celebrated. Leaving early is questioned. We clap for endurance, even when it looks like exhaustion. We romanticise “managing” tough environments instead of asking why the environment is tough in the first place.
A week later, Kofi came around to say his goodbyes.
Some people suddenly became busy. Others avoided eye contact. A few offered stiff handshakes and rehearsed well-wishes. But Nana Ama hugged him and said simply, “I’m proud of you. You’ll do well.”
Kofi smiled. That smile looked lighter than the one he’d been wearing for months.
And in that moment, Nana Ama realised something we often forget in our offices: careers are journeys, not sentences. Not everyone will bloom in the same place. And the fact that it didn’t work for someone here doesn’t mean it won’t work beautifully somewhere else.
One day, it might be your email. Your name in the subject line. Your decision under office scrutiny.
So be kind. Be genuinely happy for people when they move on.
Because no one stays in one place forever.And sometimes, the bravest thing a colleague can do…
is leave.
Gene’s Office Survival Tip:
If a colleague’s resignation makes you want to gossip, pause for a moment and ask yourself: Would I be comfortable hearing the same words said about me when it’s my turn?
Wish people well genuinely, celebrate quietly, and stay focused on your own path. Offices change, but character travels with you.
This is the office, Buzz!
Work, Culture and everything in between!
Remember to share this with that colleague who needs to read this.
