Category: Leadership & Reflection

  • Beyond the Deliverables: What Managing a Complex Project Taught Me

    Beyond the Deliverables: What Managing a Complex Project Taught Me

    A project plan can look clear on paper. It has objectives, activities, a timeline, a budget, and expected outcomes. But once implementation begins, the work becomes more complicated. People have different responsibilities, unexpected challenges arise, and decisions made in one area can affect another.

    I came to understand this more deeply while managing the Foreign Investment Mapping project at Open Development Cambodia (ODC) from 2021 to 2024. The project aimed to make information about foreign investment in Cambodia more accessible through research, data, and an interactive bilingual platform. ODC’s original announcement introduced the platform in February 2022.

    Looking back, I realise that much of my work happened beyond the deliverables themselves—in the coordination, decisions, and conversations that helped bring different parts of the project together.

    Managing the moving parts

    The project brought together research, data, and technical work around a subject that required us to build a shared understanding across different areas of expertise. We needed to turn information from different sources into something people could explore and understand.

    This involved more than collecting data. We had to consider what information was available, how it should be organised, how the platform should present it, and how users could navigate and access it.

    Like many organisations in the sector, we ran several donor-funded projects at once, and their deadlines and reporting often overlapped. Each had its own activities, deadlines, budgets, reporting requirements, and expected outcomes. A decision that seemed straightforward for one project could affect the workload or timing of another.

    My responsibility was to keep track of these moving parts without losing sight of what each project was meant to achieve. I monitored progress against activity plans, followed up on deadlines and budgets, identified implementation risks, and worked with colleagues to address challenges. Some issues could be resolved within the team; others required discussion with management or the donor.

    The proposal gave us the initial direction, but implementation required continuous attention to the realities of the work. We had to consider what was achievable with the information, time, resources, and people available.

    Tracking activities and milestones helped me monitor progress, while also considering what those activities depended on, where difficulties might emerge, and what needed to happen next to keep the project moving.

    Turning uncertainty into direction

    One of the challenges of working across research and technical development was that the different parts of the project could not operate independently. The information that the data and research team collected needed to be organised meaningfully, and the technical team needed a clear understanding of how that information would be presented to users.

    This also meant listening to perspectives beyond the project team. Sectoral consultations helped gather input on foreign investment data and information, informing discussions about how the dataset and profile page could be enhanced. This ODC article describes one of the consultations that informed the work.

    My role was to help connect these areas, keep the intended outcomes in view, and make sure that questions or difficulties were raised early enough to address them.

    Alongside tracking activities and milestones, regular communication with the team helped me stay informed about progress, hear about emerging challenges, and discuss what needed attention before it affected other parts of the work.

    Not every issue had an immediate answer. Sometimes we needed to reconsider the available information, clarify a requirement, or discuss whether an adjustment was necessary. When a decision affected the wider project, I had to make sure the relevant people were informed and that the team understood the direction.

    I was also learning to balance the detail of individual tasks with the wider picture. A team member might be focused on completing a particular piece of work, while I needed to consider how it fitted into the project timeline, budget, other commitments, and expected outcomes.

    Neither perspective was more important than the other. My responsibility was to connect them so that the work could progress with a clearer sense of priority.

    Trust is built through consistency

    Reporting was another important part of my project-management responsibilities. I prepared donor reports for review by the Executive Director, working to make the progress, results, challenges, and reasons for any adjustments clear.

    I did not see a report as simply a record of activities completed. It needed to explain what had been achieved, what had proved difficult, and what the available evidence told us about the project’s progress.

    When donors requested clarification, I needed to understand the implementation details well enough to respond accurately and explain the context behind our decisions. That required staying close to the work throughout the project, not just gathering information when a reporting deadline approached.

    Over time, I came to see how consistency in reporting mattered. When the progress, challenges, and explanations were clear, others could understand where the project stood and why certain decisions had been made.

    For me, that was one way of building trust through the everyday work of managing a project.

    The pressure a project manager carries

    Managing several projects at once meant that I was often thinking about things beyond the immediate tasks in front of the team: deadlines, budgets, donor expectations, reporting commitments, and the risks that could affect whether we achieved our intended outcomes.

    Not all of these concerns needed to be passed directly to the people doing the work. But I still needed to make sure they understood when priorities changed, when a decision affected their responsibilities, or when a challenge required their attention.

    I became more conscious of the difference between keeping a team informed and transferring my own pressure to them. I wanted colleagues to feel able to raise problems early, ask questions, and focus on the work they were responsible for.

    When a wider issue arose, I needed to work through it, seek advice or a decision where necessary, and communicate what the team needed to know.

    Of course, I could not shield the team from every difficulty, and I did not always have an immediate solution. Sometimes the best thing I could do was make the situation clearer: what had changed, what we needed to resolve, and what we could still move forward with.

    This experience deepened my understanding of a thought I have returned to often: my pressure can become someone else’s pressure.

    How I communicate a concern, respond to a setback, or clarify a priority can affect how other people experience their work.

    For me, this does not mean a project manager should carry every problem alone. It means being thoughtful about how responsibility is shared, so that people have the information and support they need without being burdened by uncertainty that has not yet translated into something they can act on.

    Recognising an opportunity beyond the original plan

    The Foreign Investment Mapping project also influenced how I thought about the information we were making accessible.

    As I became more interested in corporate social responsibility and responsible business, I started paying closer attention to discussions about transparency and the environmental and social impacts of business activity. I began to see a connection between investment information and wider questions about how businesses disclose information about their practices and responsibilities.

    I saw an opportunity to bring these questions into a broader conversation.

    Before the Foreign Investment Mapping project closed, I helped initiate and organise a multi-stakeholder dialogue on environmental, social, and governance (ESG) reporting in Cambodia. ODC hosted it in Phnom Penh on 8 August 2024 and described it as the first multi-stakeholder dialogue on ESG in the country. It brought together 75 participants from government, the private sector, NGOs, universities, journalism, and communities, under the theme “Leveraging Data and Information Disclosure for Responsible Business.” ODC’s report on the dialogue has the details.

    It was an additional initiative alongside my project responsibilities. It grew out of my interest in responsible business and my belief that data and information disclosure could contribute to a wider discussion. I am grateful to ODC’s leadership and board, the speakers, and my colleagues, who made it possible.

    This was an additional initiative I pursued alongside my project responsibilities. It grew out of my own interest in responsible business and my belief that the work around data and information disclosure could contribute to a wider discussion.

    I could not know what might follow from starting that conversation. My intention was to bring different perspectives into the room and create an opportunity to discuss an emerging issue in Cambodia.

    I shared more about the thinking and work behind the dialogue in Behind the Dialogue: What It Took to Bring Cambodia’s First Multi-Stakeholder Conversation on ESG to Life.

    Looking back, I value this experience because it showed me how familiarity with a project can help you notice questions beyond its original deliverables.

    Recognising that opportunity was only the beginning. Turning it into a dialogue still took planning, coordination, and the practical work of bringing people together, and it took a team to do it.

    Six colleagues posing with raised fists after a consultation workshop in December 2022.
    Photo with my colleagues after finishing a consultation workshop in December 2022. The Foreign Investment Mapping dashboard was made possible by the technical team’s expertise and collective effort, alongside the wider project team’s contributions and support.

    What I carry forward

    Managing the Foreign Investment Mapping project strengthened my understanding of how project management works in practice. Plans, budgets, timelines, and indicators provide necessary structure, but they do not remove the need for judgement.

    The work also requires listening, following up, making decisions with the information available, and adjusting when circumstances change.

    I also came to appreciate how closely implementation, communication, and trust are connected. A project is not managed only through its formal milestones. It is managed through the many decisions and interactions that help people understand their responsibilities, address challenges, and keep working towards a shared outcome.

    Some of this work is visible in the final product or report. Much of it is not.

    Yet these less visible responsibilities shaped how I approached my role and how I understood the kind of manager I wanted to become.

    I am still learning. But I now pay closer attention not only to what a project needs to deliver, but also to how the work is organised, how decisions are communicated, and how people are supported along the way.

    The deliverables matter. So does the work behind them—and the people who make them possible.

    Explore the work

    Foreign Investment Mapping:

    The Foreign Investment Mapping project brought together research, data, and interactive tools to make information about major foreign investment projects in Cambodia more accessible.

    Related responsible-business resources:

    The work my team and I did to make foreign investment information more accessible also contributed to my interest in how data and information disclosure could support wider discussions about responsible business.

    These are ODC’s current pages. I can’t speak to how they have changed since I left.

    Written in a personal capacity. These reflections are mine and do not represent Open Development Cambodia.

  • Beyond the Title: The Leader I’m Learning to Become

    Beyond the Title: The Leader I’m Learning to Become

    At Up:Skill, I listened to women at very different stages of their careers.

    Some were just beginning.

    Some were already leading teams.

    Some were changing direction.

    Some were still trying to understand where they belonged.

    I came into the programme thinking mostly about what I wanted to learn.

    I left thinking more about what it means to become the senior person in the room.

    After years of taking responsibility for projects, working with different stakeholders, and helping teams deliver, I found myself asking a more personal question:

    What kind of leader am I becoming along the way?

    Because the pressure changes as we move through our careers. And so does our responsibility for the people around us.

    The pressure changes when you become senior

    Earlier in my career, I knew what it felt like to be the junior person.

    You want to do well.

    You don’t want to make mistakes.

    You want people to trust your work.

    Sometimes, you’re trying to understand expectations that nobody has explained clearly.

    You’re learning while also trying to prove that you’re capable of learning.

    Later, when you become more senior, the pressure doesn’t disappear.

    It changes.

    You have deadlines.

    You’re accountable for decisions.

    People depend on you.

    There are expectations from management, partners, donors and the people you supervise.

    You have your own work to deliver while also trying to help other people deliver theirs.

    And then I began to notice something I hadn’t thought about enough before:

    My pressure can become someone else’s pressure.

    When I’m worried about a deadline, that urgency can travel down the team.

    When I want something done perfectly, someone else may hear that as: Don’t make a mistake.

    When I’m carrying the weight of a project, I have to be careful not to make someone junior carry the weight of my anxiety, too.

    That distinction has become increasingly important to me.

    Listening to women at Up:Skill made me think more carefully about the experiences people carry into a room and about the kind of leader I want to be for them.

    Am I creating pressure, or creating opportunity?

    I still expect people to do good work.

    I still care about deadlines, quality and accountability.

    But I’ve become more interested in what happens between those expectations and the final result.

    Can someone take ownership of something instead of only following instructions?

    Can they try something they haven’t done before?

    Can they present an idea?

    Can they make a mistake and learn from it?

    Can they see an opportunity I might not have seen?

    Sometimes leadership isn’t about pushing harder.

    Sometimes it’s about opening a door.

    Giving someone a piece of work they’re ready to grow into.

    Letting them explore an idea.

    Encouraging them to speak.

    Giving feedback that helps rather than simply corrects.

    Recognising a contribution, even when it seems small.

    As we grow into more senior roles, it’s easy to become so focused on getting things right that we forget what it felt like to be learning.

    I want to remember that feeling.

    Not to lower the standards I set for myself or others, but to make sure that the people working with me have room to ask questions, try new things and grow into their responsibilities.

    Because the kind of support we receive early in our careers can shape the kind of support we later offer to others.

    I don’t want to forget what it felt like to be on the other side.

    I want to hold on to that understanding as I grow.

    Motherhood made me notice something else

    Becoming a mother also changed the way I think about people’s capacity.

    Not their capability.

    Their capacity.

    Someone can be capable of doing something and still not have unlimited energy, attention or time.

    There can be responsibilities outside work that nobody in the office sees.

    There can be exhaustion that doesn’t appear on a CV.

    There can be a difficult week that has nothing to do with someone’s commitment to their work.

    I don’t think this means lowering expectations.

    For me, it means becoming more curious about what a person needs in order to do good work.

    Sometimes they need clearer direction.

    Sometimes they need more time.

    Sometimes they need encouragement.

    Sometimes they need a challenge.

    And sometimes they simply need someone to trust that they’re capable of growing into the opportunity.

    I’m still learning how to tell the difference.

    I don’t always get it right. But I want to keep asking the question rather than assuming that everyone has the same capacity, circumstances or needs.

    Because supporting people doesn’t mean deciding what they can or cannot do.

    Sometimes it means creating the conditions in which they can find out for themselves.

    Then there is the question of recognition

    As I’ve reflected on my career, I’ve also found myself wondering how much of my sense of impact depends on recognition.

    • Do I need to win a major award to know that I’ve made an impact?
    • Do I need a bigger platform, a more visible title, or recognition from people outside my immediate community before the work I do can count as meaningful?

    I don’t have a neat answer.

    Recognition matters.

    It can make someone’s work visible. It can open doors. It can create opportunities that might otherwise be difficult to reach.

    I know that because being recognised at Up mattered to me.

    I appreciated the opportunity to be part of the community and, later, to share my experience with another cohort. Those moments reminded me that the experiences we carry can be useful to someone else, too.

    But visibility and impact aren’t always the same thing.

    Some of the things that matter most in a person’s career may never become an award.

    A junior colleague becomes more confident because someone gave her room to try.

    Someone applies for an opportunity because another woman encouraged her.

    Someone stays in a field because, at some point, she felt that she belonged there.

    Someone who was once supported becomes the person who supports someone else.

    You may never know the full distance that a small act of encouragement travels.

    And perhaps that’s what makes these forms of impact so difficult to measure. They don’t always come with a clear starting point, a completion date or a result we can claim as our own.

    Maybe impact takes longer than recognition

    We’re often taught to look for evidence of impact.

    Numbers.

    Outputs.

    Promotions.

    Awards.

    People reached.

    Projects completed.

    Those things matter, especially in the kind of work I’ve spent my career doing.

    I’ve worked with data, information platforms, research and stakeholder engagement. I’ve seen the value of making information accessible and useful, and of creating opportunities for people to use it in their work.

    Measurement matters. Evidence matters. Results matter.

    But I’ve also come to appreciate that not everything meaningful can be captured in a report.

    A conversation that changes how someone thinks.

    A connection between two people that continues without you.

    A person who becomes more confident because you trusted them with something.

    A younger colleague who eventually becomes a leader herself.

    You may not see the result immediately.

    You may never see it at all.

    And perhaps that’s one of the uncomfortable things about doing work intended to create change in other people and communities.

    Sometimes, you don’t get to see what your contribution becomes.

    I think about that when I look back at some of the connections that began around Up:Skill.

    I couldn’t have known in 2023 where every relationship would eventually lead.

    Some became friendships.

    Some became professional connections.

    Some crossed organisational boundaries.

    Some continued in ways I may never fully know.

    Not everything we start is ours to finish.

    Sometimes our contribution is simply being there at the beginning.

    Making an introduction.

    Sharing an experience.

    Offering encouragement.

    Creating a little more room for someone else to find their way.

    And then allowing the connection to become something beyond us.

    The kind of senior woman I want to become

    I don’t know exactly what my long-term impact will be.

    I don’t know whether it will be attached to a particular project, an award, an organisation or a title.

    But I’ve started to care more about a different question:

    What do the people around me experience because I was there?

    Did I make it easier for someone to speak?

    Did I create an opportunity?

    Did I help someone see something differently?

    Did I make a difficult piece of work feel possible?

    Did I pass pressure down simply because I was carrying it myself?

    Or did I create enough space for someone else to grow?

    These questions don’t belong neatly on a performance review.

    There’s no award category for them.

    But they’ve started to matter to me.

    Maybe that’s also part of why I started Her Quiet Work.

    I wanted a place to think about the parts of work that don’t always fit into a CV, a project report or a job title.

    The decisions made quietly.

    The people who influence us without knowing it.

    The opportunities we create for someone else.

    The things we learn from a room and carry somewhere else.

    And the question of what all of this is ultimately for.

    I still don’t know how long it takes to understand the full impact of our work. Maybe sometimes we never know.

    But I’m becoming more comfortable with not having to wait for an award, a title or a larger stage to decide that the work matters.

    I can pay attention to the room I’m in.

    To the pressure I carry into it.

    To the opportunities I open.

    To the people who might need a little more space to find their voice.

    And perhaps the answer isn’t to know exactly what impact I’ll leave, but to be more intentional about the impact I create along the way.

    To become the kind of senior woman I once needed to see.