It never rains; it pours….
May and June 2005 had been the most difficult months for me whilst in Dubai; work had hit an all time low, I had my little scare with the big C and my uncles’ death. Just 4 days after getting back from the funeral in the UK I was to receive more bad news. You know that I came here for my job, but as yet I’ve said very little about what I do and who I work for. This has been deliberate. There is only one place in my blog where I’ll talk about my job here and this post is it….
The week after my return I was working in Abu Dhabi, my line manager at the time was Jocelyn (she was the 3rd I’d had in 13 months here), she’s Malaysian very beautiful and very smart. I’d met her 12 months earlier when she was the branch manager in Abu Dhabi and liked her immediately. She told me we needed a chat and I had a sixth sense about what was coming. We left the office and went to the bar in the hotel where we were staying. After chatting in general about nothing particular, I asked her what she needed to tell me. In the nicest possible way she told me that I was being sent back to the UK.
My employer was HSBC Bank; I’d joined the then Midland Bank way back in 1990 and had climbed through the ranks to Manager. After working in the UK, India and Malaysia I was approached about a position in Dubai. My role here was to manage a team implementing re-engineering initiatives to improve productivity, customer service etc and streamline procedures. Even though the job I actually ended up doing differed from the one I was sold, it was more project management, my first 6 months were very successful and I received a great end of year report and rating. I was looking forward to developing the team and removing the unbelievable amount of red-tape and unnecessary work that was the norm in the Middle East. Unfortunately my boss had other plans. In my 15 years with HSBC I have met many people; the vast majority have been hard working, honest and effective. Some of my closest friends still work for HSBC, and I have worked with, and for, some truly fantastic managers. Of course there has been the odd one or two who were at best a complete waste of time and at the worst downright nasty. My boss here, a fellow Brit in his late 40s, with 30ish years service, fell into both these categories; I’ll call him Shrek as behind his back, that was how he was known (if you were to see him you’d understand). He had a reputation back in the UK, a not so pleasant reputation, but I choose to form my own opinion and took no heed to the warnings I was given.
Shrek, who wanted me because of my straightforward manner, my honest approach and my reputation for being unafraid to confront difficult issues, didn’t like me being that way with him. The simple fact was, he did not like me, that was no great loss as I detested the man, but it didn’t stop me from doing my job. I loved my team and was for a while at least passionate about what we were trying to achieve. Eventually Shrek wore me down, I could no longer deal with his moods, he had more than Diana Ross a senior manager here once told me, or his inconsistency, he would change his mind mid sentence. You’d start a conversation and he’d send you west, by the end of the same discussion you’d have gone north, east and south. I used to leave these meetings with absolutely no clue as to which direction he wanted me and the team to be moving in.
This not only affected me but the entire team, our motivation was at an all time low and as much as I tried to keep up spirits amongst the troops, it took its toll on my performance and morale. After his complete lack of professionalism, Shreks’ worst trait was his love of the ladies, me excluded of course; he had a gaggle of young staff who swooned over his every word. Now this was not because he was good looking, his nick-name was Shrek remember, this was because these young and easily influenced girls saw power. All I saw a sad, dirty old man who should know better! His favouritism towards his ladies was obvious to everyone and in all his teams’ morale was suffering. Comments like “I’ll never get promoted I’m the wrong sex” were common. Like most alpha males he had a favourite amongst his women, she unfortunately worked in my team; a pretty, slim Pakistani girl around 23 years old. She had an exceptionally high opinion of herself; (I wonder why) this opinion however, was not shared by me and the other managers in our team. Due to Shreks insistence that this girl was talented and should be promoted, or rated higher, conflicts between him and us ensued and he took every opportunity to tell me that regardless of rumours there was nothing other than friendship between him and this girl. He once told me that she’d had a difficult childhood and needed a father-figure and that was all he was to her; a father figure, a mentor and guide.
By July 2005 the time I was advised of my repatriation, my relationship with Shrek was at an all time low and it came as no surprise. In some ways it was a relief; I no longer had to make the decision to leave, it had been taken out of my hands. I was seconded to Dubai, on loan if you like, so being returned to the UK just meant I would go back to my previous job there. Officially I was an unfortunate victim of Emiritisation; the banks here must have a certain percentage of Emirati staff so they were offloading expatriate staff. I was easy to loose as I still had a job in the UK. Of course my personal circumstances made no difference, nor did the 11 months I still had remaining on my contract. He’d made the decision and no matter what the other senior managers said, I was leaving! I had therefore 2 choices; stay with HSBC, return to the UK and leave Alain, or leave HSBC and stay here with Alain. After 2 seconds of thought the decision was made and I prepared to leave my 15 year career with HSBC and to be a kept woman for the first time in my life!
Fast forward to the present, Shrek has now left Dubai and moved to India with his new bride; you guessed it… the young Pakistani girl he swore blind he was a father-figure to, only friends with! He still works for HSBC and was in fact recently promoted, it continues to astound me that he was allowed to get away with all he did here. That said, I don’t regret my decision to leave for a second, and am much happier these days.
The week after my return I was working in Abu Dhabi, my line manager at the time was Jocelyn (she was the 3rd I’d had in 13 months here), she’s Malaysian very beautiful and very smart. I’d met her 12 months earlier when she was the branch manager in Abu Dhabi and liked her immediately. She told me we needed a chat and I had a sixth sense about what was coming. We left the office and went to the bar in the hotel where we were staying. After chatting in general about nothing particular, I asked her what she needed to tell me. In the nicest possible way she told me that I was being sent back to the UK.
My employer was HSBC Bank; I’d joined the then Midland Bank way back in 1990 and had climbed through the ranks to Manager. After working in the UK, India and Malaysia I was approached about a position in Dubai. My role here was to manage a team implementing re-engineering initiatives to improve productivity, customer service etc and streamline procedures. Even though the job I actually ended up doing differed from the one I was sold, it was more project management, my first 6 months were very successful and I received a great end of year report and rating. I was looking forward to developing the team and removing the unbelievable amount of red-tape and unnecessary work that was the norm in the Middle East. Unfortunately my boss had other plans. In my 15 years with HSBC I have met many people; the vast majority have been hard working, honest and effective. Some of my closest friends still work for HSBC, and I have worked with, and for, some truly fantastic managers. Of course there has been the odd one or two who were at best a complete waste of time and at the worst downright nasty. My boss here, a fellow Brit in his late 40s, with 30ish years service, fell into both these categories; I’ll call him Shrek as behind his back, that was how he was known (if you were to see him you’d understand). He had a reputation back in the UK, a not so pleasant reputation, but I choose to form my own opinion and took no heed to the warnings I was given.
Shrek, who wanted me because of my straightforward manner, my honest approach and my reputation for being unafraid to confront difficult issues, didn’t like me being that way with him. The simple fact was, he did not like me, that was no great loss as I detested the man, but it didn’t stop me from doing my job. I loved my team and was for a while at least passionate about what we were trying to achieve. Eventually Shrek wore me down, I could no longer deal with his moods, he had more than Diana Ross a senior manager here once told me, or his inconsistency, he would change his mind mid sentence. You’d start a conversation and he’d send you west, by the end of the same discussion you’d have gone north, east and south. I used to leave these meetings with absolutely no clue as to which direction he wanted me and the team to be moving in.
This not only affected me but the entire team, our motivation was at an all time low and as much as I tried to keep up spirits amongst the troops, it took its toll on my performance and morale. After his complete lack of professionalism, Shreks’ worst trait was his love of the ladies, me excluded of course; he had a gaggle of young staff who swooned over his every word. Now this was not because he was good looking, his nick-name was Shrek remember, this was because these young and easily influenced girls saw power. All I saw a sad, dirty old man who should know better! His favouritism towards his ladies was obvious to everyone and in all his teams’ morale was suffering. Comments like “I’ll never get promoted I’m the wrong sex” were common. Like most alpha males he had a favourite amongst his women, she unfortunately worked in my team; a pretty, slim Pakistani girl around 23 years old. She had an exceptionally high opinion of herself; (I wonder why) this opinion however, was not shared by me and the other managers in our team. Due to Shreks insistence that this girl was talented and should be promoted, or rated higher, conflicts between him and us ensued and he took every opportunity to tell me that regardless of rumours there was nothing other than friendship between him and this girl. He once told me that she’d had a difficult childhood and needed a father-figure and that was all he was to her; a father figure, a mentor and guide.
By July 2005 the time I was advised of my repatriation, my relationship with Shrek was at an all time low and it came as no surprise. In some ways it was a relief; I no longer had to make the decision to leave, it had been taken out of my hands. I was seconded to Dubai, on loan if you like, so being returned to the UK just meant I would go back to my previous job there. Officially I was an unfortunate victim of Emiritisation; the banks here must have a certain percentage of Emirati staff so they were offloading expatriate staff. I was easy to loose as I still had a job in the UK. Of course my personal circumstances made no difference, nor did the 11 months I still had remaining on my contract. He’d made the decision and no matter what the other senior managers said, I was leaving! I had therefore 2 choices; stay with HSBC, return to the UK and leave Alain, or leave HSBC and stay here with Alain. After 2 seconds of thought the decision was made and I prepared to leave my 15 year career with HSBC and to be a kept woman for the first time in my life!
Fast forward to the present, Shrek has now left Dubai and moved to India with his new bride; you guessed it… the young Pakistani girl he swore blind he was a father-figure to, only friends with! He still works for HSBC and was in fact recently promoted, it continues to astound me that he was allowed to get away with all he did here. That said, I don’t regret my decision to leave for a second, and am much happier these days.
posted by Bev @ 8:30 am
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