I was a young loan officer working at a bank in Jamaica. My company wanted me to issue ten new credit cards per month to qualified new customers. Every month! And this was alongside my personal loan sales targets.

Now Jamaica is a country with only a few million people, a working population that’s even smaller, and just by sheer age range and the number of people earning a qualifying income, how many new customers could we reasonably expect to find every month?

Other loan officers in my branch had the same targets. There were other branches of our bank and other banks competing for the same market.

People have to actually be born and grow up to be eighteen and older, become employed, and earn a steady income of J$50,000 or more after taxes to qualify for a credit card under the bank’s requirements at the time.

Yet every year, they would just increase the targets.

Where were we supposed to find all these new qualified customers? Did management consider how many people were actually entering the workforce, what salaries they were earning, how many already had credit cards, or how many other banks were competing for the very same customers?

I’m someone who likes to do my best. If I have a job to do, I want to do it well. But these targets were difficult to achieve, and month after month, I had to endure performance meetings and explain myself.

It started affecting my morale. I even started dreaming about my targets!

I found the customers, but the bank rejected them

Let me tell you how hard it was.

At one point, I found a company that was hiring fresh telesales representatives. I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to find new customers, so I went there and pitched credit cards to the new recruits.

I got lots of applications!

However, there was one problem. Everyone there was making J$48,000 after taxes.

Our requirement was J$50,000 after taxes.

Just J$2,000 short!

My company rejected all my submissions for credit cards.

I had gone out, found a new group of employed people, spoken to them about the product, and managed to get their applications. Yet none of it could count toward my approved credit card sales because of the bank’s own qualifying requirement.

Funny enough, after I quit that job, I heard later that they had revised their policy and reduced the qualifying salary limit.

Seems they had found out that all these new call-centre jobs were paying somewhere between J$35,000 and J$48,000 after taxes, and other banks were still giving those workers credit cards. So they changed the policy.

Now, wasn’t that something?

I had found a whole group of potential customers, and the bank rejected their applications because of an income threshold that I later heard it had lowered.

Meanwhile, I was the one having to explain why I wasn’t meeting my targets.

Diamond League, the coveted prize

Our bank had something called Diamond League.

This was where you were given elite-class status and a monthly cash bonus if you could reach 80 percent of your targets.

Back then, in my old thinking, it was a covetable goal.

I wanted to do well. I wanted to make my targets, enjoy the recognition, and hopefully get that nice bonus too.

But no one loan officer from our branch could reliably make those targets individually. So an informal arrangement developed where the officer who had the best chance of making Diamond League could be helped by the others.

We would sacrifice some of our own efforts to shore up the star performer. That way, at least as a branch, we could boast that we had a branch representative who was a Diamond League candidate.

Now, I want to explain how these transfers actually happened.

We were a small branch with one operations manager and one branch manager. Everyone knew what was going on, including management.

The managers never came outright and asked me to surrender my sales. It was always the other loan officers who would come and plead their cases to me personally.

They wanted to make sure I was okay with it, so it wouldn’t appear that management was forcing me.

But here’s the thing. I couldn’t transfer the sales myself, and I never did. The transfers had to be approved by both the operations manager and branch manager in the company’s digital banking software.

Once I agreed to give another officer the business, I wasn’t involved in how the transfer happened afterward.

I remember three occasions when this happened to me.

I was a rookie back then, but I was also genuinely happy to see my colleagues succeed. My personality, my nature, was one of joy when I could help someone else achieve something good.

The cleaning company and the business loan officer

One occasion involved a new business account that I had scouted and closed on my own.

It was a cleaning company, just starting out. I had gone out, found the business, developed a relationship with the woman who owned it, and brought her account into the bank.

Then a more experienced business loan officer came to me and begged me to give him the account.

Now, I initially protested.

Why should I give him a business account that I had gone out and secured myself, just so he could take the credit for it?

But he made an argument that changed my mind.

He said I didn’t know how to service business customers properly anyway, since I was more of a personal consumer loans officer. He explained that business customers required a different level of experience and time to service, and that I wouldn’t be able to give this woman the best attention her business needed.

That was the deciding factor for me.

I genuinely believed I was doing what was best for the customer.

If this man had the experience and time to properly service a business account, and I didn’t, then why should I hang on to the account at the expense of the woman who was trying to establish her cleaning company?

So I transferred the account to him.

Funny thing is, after the transfer, whenever that business customer faced a problem, she would call me first.

We had developed a relationship, and she was comfortable dealing with me. So whenever she called about an issue, I would follow up with the business loan officer to find out what was going on.

Come to find out, he was dismissive of the woman and her cleaning company because it was just starting out and wasn’t earning a lot.

I remember being especially cross with that business loan officer!

Here was a man who had begged me to give him the account, taken the business and the credit for it, and convinced me that he could provide better service to this customer because I lacked the experience and time.

Now that he had the account, he was being so dismissive of the very woman he had convinced me he could serve better!

And even letting the work fall back in my lap!

I had to keep following up with him because the customer continued calling me for help. He had taken the credit, but apparently didn’t consider her small cleaning business important enough to give it the attention he had promised.

I was cross because I had genuinely believed I was making the best decision for that woman. It was his argument about proper customer service that had persuaded me to give him my account.

The J$2 million loan and the hundred-dollar soda

Another occasion involved a J$2 million personal loan that I had made.

I remember this sale especially well because it came about through my own initiative to try something different.

At the time, we were always prospecting for customers within our usual sales region. One day, I thought, why not leave our region and try our luck somewhere fresh?

I managed to get two other loan officers to come along with me.

The three of us travelled to a company outside our usual region and spent the day talking to employees, displaying our brochures, and trying to find prospects for the bank’s products.

On the surface, my colleagues were acting like leaving our region to come all that way wasn’t worthwhile.

And at first, it seemed they were right!

We spent the entire day there and didn’t get any immediate interest.

But come to find out later, all of us who went, all three of us, got follow-up calls and prospects after we left.

So the trip had actually worked!

One of the prospects I got from that effort was the chief financial officer of a big food distribution company in Jamaica.

I remember when I initially visited him after he expressed interest in a loan. We met in one of the company’s own branded, fancy supermarkets.

And I remember joking with him about the cost of either a soda or a bottle of water in his company’s supermarket.

To put it bluntly, I was my usual blunt, forthright self.

I think I said something like:

“A hundred bucks for a soda?” 🤨

Imagine that! Here I was, a young loan officer meeting the chief financial officer of a major food distribution company, and I was questioning the price of a soda in his own supermarket!

He chuckled. He was disarmed.

Looking back now, even then I really had balls! 😂

Anyway, our business continued, and I eventually closed that J$2 million personal loan.

I remember driving so far to meet him in person to complete the transaction. I was planning my wedding around that time, and after he finally signed all the papers, I jokingly mentioned to him that I was getting married.

I still remember that meeting, the long drive, the papers being signed, and that little exchange about my wedding.

Now remember, I had been the one who suggested going into this new region in the first place. I had brought my two coworkers along, and all three of us eventually received prospects from that trip.

I had gone out, secured this particular customer, followed up, travelled to meet him, and closed the J$2 million loan.

Then one of my colleagues approached me.

She wanted me to transfer the J$2 million loan sale to her so she could make Diamond League.

Now, this colleague was a single mother.

And I remember what I thought to myself.

“Well, at least one of us will get a nice bonus this month.”

I knew she was close to qualifying, and giving her the sale could help her reach Diamond League and receive that extra money.

So I agreed.

And yes, that officer did make Diamond League.

I was happy for her. I genuinely was!

But looking back now at the whole arrangement, isn’t it something?

I had initiated the scouting trip, helped create opportunities for three loan officers, found the CFO, driven all that way to close his J$2 million loan, and handed the sales credit to someone else so she could qualify for Diamond League.

Meanwhile, I was still struggling with my own targets and enduring those monthly performance meetings.

Why I gave another colleague my credit cards

The other occasion involved a colleague who was on the brink of getting a promotion.

She just needed to hit her credit card targets to make it, so she came and asked me to transfer some of my approved credit cards to her.

And I remember exactly how I reasoned through it.

Why hang on to these credit cards if, at the end of the month, I’m only going to be at 50 percent of my targets, but she has the potential to reach 80 percent of hers and get a promotion on top of it?

That was how I saw it.

If I kept the cards, I would still fall short of the Diamond League requirement. But if I gave them to her, she could potentially reach the 80 percent threshold and get promoted.

And I was genuinely happy at the prospect of seeing my colleague get promoted!

So I agreed to give her the credit cards.

This is something I remember about my personality back then. I liked doing well myself, but I also found real joy in seeing the people around me succeed.

Month after month, I still had to explain myself

Now think about that arrangement.

I had loan sales targets and credit card targets. I had to go out and find customers, explain products, prepare applications, and get business approved.

Some of that business I had personally secured was transferred to other loan officers, with management’s approval, so they could reach Diamond League or qualify for a promotion.

And all the while, I was still having to explain my performance month after month.

If no loan officer in our branch could reliably reach the Diamond League targets individually, and we had to combine our efforts under whoever had the best chance, didn’t that itself say something about how difficult these targets were?

What exactly was the bank measuring?

The managers knew the transfers were happening. They were the ones who had to approve them through the banking system. Yet we were still being judged by individual performance figures.

I wasn’t resentful that my colleagues were succeeding. I had willingly helped them, and I was glad to see them benefit.

But why was management operating a system where one employee could complete a sale, another employee could receive the performance credit, and the first employee could still be judged against targets that didn’t reflect all the business they had produced?

And why were these targets constantly increasing in the first place?

I genuinely wanted to do my best, but it was becoming so difficult that the pressure started affecting my morale.

I remember dreaming about my targets.

I was a young woman planning my wedding, trying to do well at work, and carrying these numbers around in my head even when I was supposed to be resting.

I personally didn’t even like credit cards

Separate and apart from all of this, I personally didn’t like credit cards.

I didn’t like selling them to people because I knew the interest rates and fees were crazily expensive, and how one missed payment, or just making minimum payments, could keep people in a cycle of debt.

It just didn’t sit right with me.

I knew people in general aren’t always very conscientious about how they manage borrowing, especially young people who were among those being targeted for credit cards.

So whenever I had applicants, I would always explain the interest part and warn them profusely about paying off their credit cards in full every month.

I didn’t want someone taking a credit card from me without properly understanding how expensive it could become if they started carrying balances and accumulating interest.

Yet here I was, working in a bank that wanted me to issue more and more credit cards every month.

What if someone decided they didn’t want a credit card after I had explained the interest rates and fees to them? Would the bank consider that good customer service, or would it simply be another credit card I had failed to sell?

I didn’t particularly enjoy encouraging people to take on these expensive products, especially when I knew how easily someone could get caught in debt.

But the targets were there, and every month we were expected to meet them.

Who was evaluating management’s targets?

Looking back now, I find this whole business of setting impossible KPIs rather mad.

The bank could set whatever target it wanted. Ten new credit cards per month, twelve, fifteen, whatever number management decided it wanted to achieve.

But wanting more customers doesn’t mean those customers actually exist.

You still have to consider how many qualified people are available in the market, how many competitors are going after them, what the qualifying requirements are, what people earn, and whether they even want or need the product.

You cannot manufacture eighteen-year-olds overnight. You cannot force the working population to grow simply because management has increased the targets. You cannot make people earn J$50,000 after taxes just because that’s what your credit card policy requires.

And when employees repeatedly fail to meet the targets, why is the assumption always that the employees aren’t doing enough?

Why isn’t management being asked to explain how it arrived at those figures?

Where is the evidence that the targets were realistically achievable?

I think about what happened at our branch. We had a Diamond League system supposedly recognizing individual performance, yet the branch could assemble a Diamond League candidate by having other officers transfer completed business to that person.

Management knew this was happening and had to authorize the transfers.

So what did the Diamond League performance record actually tell you about who had found the customers, who had done the work, and who had secured the sales?

Then there’s the endless pressure to achieve targets that just keep increasing.

You reach one number, and next year they want more. The employee is expected to keep finding ways to satisfy the company’s ambitions, regardless of whether the market conditions can support them.

And when the employee doesn’t succeed, it’s another performance meeting, another explanation, another reminder that they aren’t doing enough.

What is all this doing to people?

How much human time and energy is being wasted chasing targets that employers haven’t properly demonstrated are achievable?

How much morale is being diminished?

How many young people are spending their best years trying to prove themselves to companies that keep moving the goalposts?

I remember what that felt like. I genuinely wanted to do well, but I was being worn down by the targets and the repeated performance meetings.

And this was all happening while I was trying to build my own life, planning my wedding, and thinking about my future.

How many other young people are living like that right now?

Looking back at Sherika the bank rookie

When I think about my younger self, I can laugh at some of the things I did.

Imagine having the balls to question the chief financial officer of a big food distribution company about the price of a soda in his company’s own fancy supermarket! 😂

I was my usual blunt, forthright self, and apparently I had no difficulty being that way even when sitting with a senior executive whose business I was trying to secure.

And then there was my nature toward my coworkers.

Looking back, I can see where I was naive about some of the arrangements at the bank, but I genuinely enjoyed seeing others succeed.

I was happy for that single mother who made Diamond League. I was happy at the prospect of another colleague getting promoted. And when I gave the business loan officer that cleaning company account, I truly believed I was doing what was best for the customer.

I still remember how cross I was when I realized he wasn’t giving her the service he had promised.

I didn’t regret wanting something good for other people. But I can certainly look back now and question the performance system we were all caught up in, and why so much of our effort, time, and morale was being consumed by it.

I’m no longer Sherika the bank rookie

Today, I’m looking at these things from a completely different position.

I’m no longer Sherika the bank rookie. I’m World Ruler Sher, raising up Trott Bailey Family Civilization to change the operations and priorities of the entire world.

I’ve spent years, alongside my husband and family, developing a civilization where people’s access to life, their ability to live well, and the opportunities available to them are organized around human needs and useful contribution.

We are developing systems for free access to land, housing, food, healthcare, transportation, equipment, skills, and the other things families need to live.

I think about that young woman planning her wedding while trying to satisfy the bank’s ever-increasing targets.

In Trott Bailey Family Civilization, we’ve authored a 50-hectare family land base for newly married couples, with their principal home constructed through Build-Life. Temporary homes and free travel are also part of the system we are developing.

We’re designing life so that young couples can establish their families without having to spend years chasing money and performance targets just to gain access to land and a home.

We’ve also developed Shubaka, a system of useful contribution with rotations and restoration seasons, where people can develop their abilities, contribute to the work of civilization, and still have time for their families and their own lives.

I have nothing against doing useful work. I liked doing my best back then, and I still do.

I have nothing against seeing other people succeed either. I enjoyed that even when I was a young loan officer.

But why should the work people do be organized around endlessly increasing sales targets, status competitions, and financial rewards that can end up consuming their peace of mind, family time, and morale?

Why should young people have to spend their youth proving themselves against numbers that someone else decides to increase year after year?

Look at the things we are capable of producing and organizing when we actually direct our efforts toward providing what people need to live.

That’s the work I’m interested in now.

And that brings me to the point of recording this story.