When silence becomes a banking risk

There is something quietly revealing about a Nigerian bank stepping back from its profit focus to confront a crucial challenge: the lack of honest, open communication within its walls—and the risk this silence poses to its future.

Two weeks ago, I sat with senior managers at a Nigerian bank for a feedback session. We were not discussing interest rates, currency instability, recapitalisation, regulatory pressure, or digital disruption. The focus was more basic, yet harder: giving and receiving truth without fear, ego, humiliation, or paralysis.

“There is also a cultural dimension we must acknowledge: Nigerians may not receive hard truths well unless they are delivered with tact. Blunt criticism is seen as contempt or an attack.”

An internal review revealed sobering news. The bank’s growth and productivity lag due to internal issues: colleagues struggle to communicate hard truths. Feedback is blocked at every level. Silence has become permanent.

By the end of the session, it was clear: the feedback crisis in Nigerian banking is not just a human-resources issue. At its core, it is a leadership and governance failure—one that directly threatens performance. In banking, what goes unsaid can be more damaging than what is stated poorly.

The first lesson was clear: feedback is missing from management culture. Many senior managers do not deliberately avoid feedback; often, they simply do not know how to give it. Much workplace feedback is just command, rebuke, and intimidation in disguise.

A junior officer who leaves a review session humiliated experiences power, not feedback. A staff member shouted down for a mistake is diminished, not developed. Confusing humiliation with feedback is a costly institutional mistake. When participants were asked what would make them perform better, their answers were strikingly consistent. Many said they would put more effort, creativity, loyalty, and initiative into their work if they felt their work was recognised and their weaknesses addressed with honesty and care rather than contempt.

This is not a radical demand. It is the minimum for professional dignity. People reject correction only when it diminishes their worth and fear accountability only when it is punishment rather than an opportunity for development.

The Nigerian banking sector is target-driven. Numbers, deadlines, profitability, and compliance matter. But behind every balance sheet are people feeling pressure, ambition, fatigue, fear, and hope. A bank focused on performance rather than people may record profits briefly but weaken its core engine.

Too many Nigerian institutions and senior managers are not prepared to receive the truth from those below them. A junior colleague who raises thoughtful concerns may be seen as rude. A subordinate who questions a process may be labelled difficult. A staff member who speaks honestly may be quietly punished through exclusion, poor appraisal, stalled promotion, or reputational marking.

But when organisations punish candour, they do not eliminate bad news. They only drive it underground. Problems are hidden until they become crises. Small operational failures become customer scandals. Customer complaints become regulatory exposure. Internal resentment becomes disengagement. By the time leaders finally hear the truth, the cost of correction has multiplied.

This is why feedback is not a soft issue—it is at the heart of risk management, governance, and leadership in banking. Where trust is the true currency, any institution unable to share honest internal truths will eventually undermine its own external credibility.

There is also a cultural dimension we must acknowledge: Nigerians may not receive hard truths well unless they are delivered with tact. Blunt criticism is seen as contempt or an attack.

Effective feedback here must be both truthful and thoughtful. Tone matters. Setting matters. Intention matters. A correction delivered publicly may humiliate; the same correction given privately may transform.

A criticism framed as an accusation may provoke defensiveness; the same point framed as shared responsibility may invite reflection. Feedback is not merely the act of saying what is true. It is the discipline of making truth useful.

This is where many organisations fail. Many organisations have mechanical, not developmental, feedback systems. Appraisals become rituals of scoring and ranking. Employees are rated but not grown; weaknesses are documented but not coached; strengths are noted but not developed.

Evaluation rarely leads to improvement. Just help people understand what they are doing well, where they are falling short, why it matters, and how they can improve.

It must also allow leaders to understand how their behaviour affects the people they lead. Leadership is not only about demanding results. It is the capacity to create the climate in which results can be sustained.

For boards and chief executives, the implication is clear: feedback culture must be built into organisational life. Managers should be trained to coach, not merely supervise. Teams should learn to disagree without eroding trust. Senior leaders must model openness; upward feedback channels must be safe from retaliation; performance reviews should focus on growth, not just output.

Above all, leaders must not mistake silence for loyalty. Compliance is not commitment. Nodding heads can conceal unspoken truths. When institutions prefer flattery over disciplined honesty, they sow the seeds of systemic risk.

The bank that invited me deserves credit for asking a tough question. It knows the future of work is not only digital or financial—it is relational. Internal conversations shape external performance.

Feedback is not an insult. It is not a weapon. It is the organisation’s immune system. It detects weakness before it becomes a failure. It corrects drift before it becomes a decline. It converts experience into learning and learning into improvement.

The silence normalised in many institutions is not a sign of peace; it is a pervasive risk. Nigerian banking, like any serious sector, cannot afford such risk. With the diagnosis clear, all that remains is the courage to act.

DAP is the author of Leading in a Storm and Beneath the Surface.