Redefining Humility: An African Woman Leader’s Perspective
Receiving the Top 40 Under 40 Women in Kenya nomination was a proud moment in my journey as a renewable energy and electric mobility engineer and entrepreneur. Yet on a morning TV show soon after, I sparked debate by suggesting that African women “shouldn’t humble”; that the word humble is too often weaponized to diminish women’s accomplishments. My fellow panelists pushed back, arguing the virtues of humility. This prompted me to reflect deeply: What does humility really mean, especially for African women leaders? Is there “good” humility and “bad” humility? And can humility be a tool for success or a hindrance? In this blog post, I share my reflections, drawing on insights from Pan-African voices, psychology, and leadership studies, and my own experience as a Kenyan woman leader.
What Does It Mean to Be “Humble”?
To start, we need to define humility. Traditionally, humility is understood as “the quality of having a modest or low view of one’s importance”[1]. In other words, a humble person doesn’t think they’re better than others and avoids excessive pride. Many of us were raised to see humility as a positive trait; a polite self-restraint from arrogance and boasting. Classic wisdom (even from C.S. Lewis) reminds us that “humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” In this sense, humility involves honesty about one’s limitations, respect for others, and gratitude for one’s opportunities.
In African cultures, humility often goes hand-in-hand with respect for community and elders. Growing up in Kenya, I was taught not to brag about my achievements and to acknowledge those who helped me. We admire leaders like Nelson Mandela, who despite his immense power remained grounded “he never made you feel inferior and always went out of his way to make you feel special”[2]. Such genuine humility is seen as a strength: it keeps one teachable and connected to others. For leaders, staying humble can mean being open to feedback, giving credit to the team, and remembering that no one achieves success alone.
However, there’s a fine line between healthy humility and harmful humility. Humility should not mean diminishing your own light or doubting your worth. Unfortunately, women, especially African women, are frequently urged to “be humble” in ways that cross that line. This is where humility’s darker side emerges.
When Humility Becomes a Double-Edged Sword for Women
Around the TV panel that day, it became clear that not everyone defines humility the same way. Some argued that humility is about being approachable, polite and even respectful. But for many women, “be humble” has a subtext: know your place. My comment that “African women shouldn’t humble” was born from seeing how humility is too often demanded of women but not of men.
Author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie puts it powerfully: “Our world is full of men and women who do not like powerful women… We ask of powerful women: Is she humble? Does she smile? Is she grateful enough? Does she have a domestic side? Questions we do not ask of powerful men”[3]. In other words, society often polices women’s success by expecting us to shrink ourselves. A confident, assertive man is seen as a leader, while a confident woman might be criticized for not being “humble” or “likable” enough[3]. Adichie calls this out as a blatant double standard; our discomfort isn’t with power itself, but with women wielding it.
In African communities, this dynamic can be even more pronounced due to traditional gender norms. There is an implicit expectation that a woman, no matter how accomplished, should “show she isn’t a threat” to others, especially to men[4]. An eye-opening essay by African Women Rise noted that a financially independent woman is often expected to prove her humility through submission. “A woman who isn’t a threat is submissive, to a man. And she must make clear that her husband is her lord and master. This is the best way that men are comfortable to have her at their table.”[4] In other words, an accomplished woman is socially rewarded for downplaying her achievements and deferring to men, to reassure everyone that she’s not “too big for her boots.”
Worse, humility is sometimes forced upon successful women. That same essay observed how a “successful woman who knows her worth and is vocal about her success may sooner have humility forced on her”, often via backlash or criticism from others (even other women)[5]. I’m sure many women reading this have experienced this: You proudly share a success, only to be told “Don’t get a big head,” or “Stay humble.” It’s as if society (and sometimes our own peers) feel the need to “clip our wings” when we fly too high.
This phenomenon isn’t just anecdotal. Black women in particular talk about a pervasive, “almost compulsive desire to ‘humble’ [them].” A recent blog for Black women noted how in many settings, people try to shrink Black women, downplay their accomplishments, or make them question their worth[6]. The underlying message is “How dare you be so confident/successful?” For example, society has internalized the idea that Black women should “be grateful for crumbs” so if a Black woman excels, some will say she should be thankful and not “act too proud.” As that blog put it, “if Black women win, others lose. So the obvious solution? Clip her wings.”[7] The fear of an “over-achieving” woman leads some people to try and dim her light under the guise of advising humility.
Humility-as-a-weapon often shows up in subtle jabs and double standards. Consider these scenarios:
· A woman shares her accomplishments at work, and someone comments with a slight smirk: “Not everyone’s as lucky as you.” (Implying she owes her success to luck, not skill.)[8]
· A confident woman speaks firmly in a meeting, and later hears that colleagues found her “intimidating”[8]. (Whereas a man doing the same might be seen as strong or competent.)
· A successful female leader is asked about her home life or told to “stay grounded,” while her male peers are never asked to prove they’re humble or domestic enough[3].
These are all ways of telling women, tone it down. Such remarks may be phrased as advice or “just joking,” but they serve to undermine women’s confidence. They enforce the idea that a woman must never appear too proud, too happy, or too assertive about her achievements, or else she risks social pushback.
Ultimately, false humility is being imposed on women as a form of control. It’s a product of insecurity and patriarchy: People who try to humble accomplished women are often uncomfortable with women who don’t need their validation or permission[9]. They project their own fears onto us, framing a woman’s confidence as arrogance. As one commentator observed, “Your confidence activates their inadequacy… They are uncomfortable with Black women existing without needing their validation”[9]. Calling a woman “unhumble” can be a polite veneer over what’s really being said: “You’re making me uncomfortable by owning your power.”
Good Humility vs. Bad Humility: Finding the Balance
Does all this mean humility has no place in a woman’s success story? Not quite. I’m not advocating arrogance or dismissing the genuine value of humility. Instead, I believe we need to distinguish “good” humility from “bad” humility.
“Bad humility” is what I’ve described above – the weaponized humility that others impose on us. It’s performative modesty demanded by those who want to keep women in their place. It’s when humility equates to silencing yourself, hiding your achievements, or accepting unfair treatment. This kind of humility is nota virtue; it’s a tactic of oppression. We owe it to ourselves (and to the next generation of women) not to submit to this. As the Treatmebetta blog concluded, “You are not obligated to shrink just because someone thinks you’re too big… you don’t need to soften or struggle to make anyone comfortable.” In fact, refusing to play small has real benefits: “Your self-esteem flourishes… Your confidence radiates… You attract opportunities… You become an example for other women – and a warning to those who think they can dim your light.”[10][11]In short, nothing good comes from allowing others to browbeat you into unnecessary humility.
On the other hand, “good humility” is self-chosen and stems from confidence, not insecurity. It’s the humility that keeps us teachable and grounded even as we rise. This humility does not mean downplaying our strengths; it means acknowledging that we don’t know everything. It’s the quality that makes a leader listen to her team, or a CEO credit her mentors and employees in her success. It’s humility as an inner strength: being secure enough in yourself that you don’t need to constantly prove you’re the smartest person in the room.
I think of the many African women leaders who exemplify this balanced humility. For example, Rwanda’s Dr. Agnes Binagwaho often speaks of learning from failures in her public health work – that’s humility. Or Nigerian finance expert Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, who confidently tackles global economic issues yet remains approachable and emphasizes collaborative effort – that’s humility with strength. Even among emerging young leaders, I hear this ethos. One young African woman, Rawan Taha, who works in development, said: “I hope I can continue to remain humble while keeping my aims high.”[12] Her words capture the ideal: stay humble, but keep your ambitions sky-high. Humility should travel alongside courage and vision, not replace them.
Crucially, good humility is chosen for oneself, not imposed by others. It’s a tool we use to keep growing, not a cage that others trap us in. In my own leadership journey, I strive for this balance every day. I remind myself that humility isn’t insecurity or silence. I can be proud of what I’ve achieved – building a renewable energy company from the ground up – and still be humble enough to learn from advisors, acknowledge my team, and admit when I don’t have all the answers. I call this mindset “humble confidence.” It’s a balance that allows me to own my success unapologetically while staying open-minded and connected to those around me.
The Humility Paradox: What Research Says
As a leader and a lifelong learner, I also turned to research to better understand how humility affects women in leadership. Studies in organizational psychology indeed describe a “humility paradox.” On one hand, leader humility has many benefits: humble leaders tend to build trust, encourage collaboration, and create environments where others feel valued. For example, a study from Notre Dame found that humble CEOs were perceived as more warm, honest, and helpful than less humble ones[13]. It makes sense, a humble manager who gives credit and listens can boost team morale and loyalty.
However, the paradox is that those same humble leaders were simultaneously viewed as less competent, assertive, and independent[13]. In fact, the study’s experiments showed that “those who display humility are viewed as less competent, independent, and influential” in snap judgments[14]. In other words, being overtly humble didn’t help the leaders’ own status; it tended to undermine others’ perception of their authority. Dr. Cindy Muir, one of the researchers, concluded that “displays of humility lead to no overall benefit to the leader” in the short term, because people might start seeing them as pushovers or lacking in confidence[14][15]. This is a sobering insight: even when we practice humility with good intentions, others might misinterpret it as weakness.
What does this mean for women leaders? Given that women already face stereotypes questioning our competence, we have to be especially strategic with humility. The research suggests it’s about balance and context. Humility can be an asset, particularly in building trust over the long term[16]. But if a woman leader is too self-effacing, she might not get due credit or might be overlooked for promotions – outcomes many of us are all too familiar with. The key is not to throw humility out the window, but to pair it with confidence and assertiveness when it counts. Or as the Notre Dame study suggests, use humility as one tool in your leadership toolkit, deployed at the right times[17]. There’s a time to sit back and listen humbly, and a time to stand tall and let the world know what you have to offer.
Moving Forward: Owning Our Success and Our Humility
So, where does this leave African women – indeed, all women – when it comes to humility? I believe it’s time to redefine humility on our own terms:
- Humility should be our choice, not an obligation or expectation foisted on us. We can choose to be humble in service of learning and growth, but we should reject calls to “be humble” that really mean “be less.” As African women nation-builders, we must refuse to shrink for the comfort of others*[10]. Our shine is not up for debate.
- Humility is about character, not capability. Being humble doesn’t mean questioning your abilities or downplaying your achievements. It means having the character to stay gracious and self-aware whileyou celebrate your wins. We can say “Thank you” for compliments without the “…oh it was nothing” reflex that diminishes our work. We can be proud, not prideful – there’s a difference.
- Practice “good humility” in leadership. This means listening to those you lead, admitting mistakes, and giving others credit. It means staying open to new ideas and remembering that leadership is about service, not ego. Good humility keeps us from becoming arrogant or disconnected from our team. As an African proverb goes, “If you want to go far, go together.” Humility helps us go together. But never confuse humility with making yourself small. You can be a humble servant-leader and still boldly own your vision and expertise.
- Call out false humility expectations. When you hear phrases like “women should be humble” used in a dismissive way, challenge them. Ask, Why? Who benefits from women staying quiet about their success? Often, it’s about preserving someone else’s comfort or upholding a status quo. By naming this, we begin to break its power. For instance, if someone says “Remember to be humble,” I might reply politely, “I believe one can be humble and confident. I’m grateful for my success, and I’m proud of it too.”We can educate others that humility and confidence are not mutually exclusive – we deserve both.
Lastly, I want to speak to my fellow African women achievers directly. We stand on the shoulders of giants – women who endured far worse just to give us a seat at the table. We “owe it to the previous generation of women… who fought so long” not to limit ourselves[18]. True humility honors those who came before us by making the most of the opportunities they won for us. Every time we refuse to belittle our accomplishments, we’re sending a message to the next generation that they can dream even bigger. As Liberian legend Ellen Johnson Sirleaf famously said, “If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.” Our dreams should scare us, not our own success.
In conclusion, humility can be both a tool and a trap. Used wisely, on our own terms, it keeps us ethical, relatable, and constantly learning. But used against us, it’s a shackle on our potential. I have learned to wear my humility proudly like an ankle weight: it keeps me strong and balanced, but it never stops me from running. My hope is that African women (indeed, all women) will continue to soar to new heights, unapologetically, while staying true to the values that make us compassionate leaders. Let’s be humble where it serves us, and bold where it counts. Our accomplishments deserve to shine, and we can stay humble without being humbled by anyone.
Sources:
- Adichie, C.N. (2017). Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions. (Excerpted in TED Ideas.) – Society’s discomfort with powerful women and expectations of humility[3].
- Okwywrites (2023). “Let’s Be Real: African Women Are Out To Destroy Each Other.” African Women Rise (Medium). – On patriarchal demands for women’s submission as “humility”[4][5].
- Treatmebetta Blog (2025). “Why Do People Want to Humble Black Women So Badly?” – Describes how others attempt to shrink Black women’s accomplishments, with backhanded “be humble” remarks[6][7][8].
- Taha, R. (2020). Quoted in “Young African Women Leaders for Sustainable Development.” UNDP Africa (Medium). – “Remain humble while keeping my aims high”[12] – balancing humility and ambition.
- Muir, C. & Zapata, C.P. (2019). “The Consequences of Humility for Leaders: A Double-Edged Sword.” Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes. (Summarized in Associations Now) – Research finding humble leaders seen as warmer but less competent[14][13].
- · Krige, C. (2021). “Debunking Humility: The Road to Modesty.” – Dictionary definition of humility[1] and Nelson Mandela as an example of humble leadership[2].
[1] [2] Debunking Humility: The Road To Modesty - Corné Krige
https://www.cornekrige.com/debunking-humility-the-road-to-modesty/
[3] Beware of “Feminism Lite” |
https://ideas.ted.com/beware-of-feminism-lite/
[4] [5] Let’s Be Real: African Women Are Out To Destroy Each Other | by Okwywrites | African Women Rise | Medium
[6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] Why Do People Want to Humble Black Women So Badly? – Treatmebetta
https://treatmebetta.com/2025/07/23/why-do-people-want-to-humble-black-women-so-badly/
[12] [18] Young African women leaders for sustainable development | by UNDP Africa | Medium
https://undpafrica.medium.com/young-african-women-leaders-for-sustainable-development-f50b3c2723b4
[13] [14] [15] [16] [17] Where Humility Fits in a Leader's Toolkit | Associations Now
https://associationsnow.com/2019/09/where-humility-fits-in-a-leaders-toolkit/
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