Utu Name: Deus
What would you like to share with us: Conflict
Details of your experience:
Dear Utu. What happens when your biggest workplace ally becomes your saboteur?
After months of minimal contact- polite but distant, a former high school classmate reached out. He confided that he was exhausted by his job and had already submitted his resignation letter. Knowing I had studied the exact role he was leaving and was freelancing at the time, he offered to recommend me as his replacement.
Excited by the opportunity to apply my skills in a new industry, I shared my CV immediately. Same day, the company’s HR contacted me and scheduled an interview for the following week. I met with both HR and the head of the department, and after confirming that the role and workplace aligned with my values and career goals, I left optimistic. The very next day, I received an offer letter, and two days later, I began a three-month on-the-job training program with a promise of full time employment after the training.
I was deeply grateful to my classmate-now colleague-for opening this door. I enjoyed learning from him and benefiting from his experience within the organization. We did everything together: lunch breaks, walks, commutes.
Let’s call him Matt.
Matt was supposed to leave at the end of the month. During this transition period, he oriented me not only to the role, but also- perhaps too generously- to the people. He shared detailed opinions about colleagues: who the boss disliked, who had a difficult personality, who was unreliable. While I generally prefer to form my own opinions, I trusted that his insights came from a place of goodwill. I told myself I would reassess once he had left.
But the end of the month came, and guess what? Matt stayed!
Through strategic negotiation and being in good books with the direct manager, Matt secured a higher salary. His easygoing, humble, people-pleasing, openly Christian demeanor, combined with his strong performance, made him difficult to let go. Now, the department was overstaffed and the HR was frustrated because a replacement had already been hired. Matt, however, confidently positioned himself as ready for larger responsibilities, articulating clearly the roles he could play.
I was happy that Matt stayed. I focused on the roles defined in my job description, and there was no conflict in our assignments. I believed we would grow together, and it felt like the beginning of a promising professional partnership.
Over time, however, patterns emerged. Matt frequently spoke negatively about colleagues, always casting himself as the competent, misunderstood hero. In meetings, he would take the lead- often explaining in detail work I had completed, leaving the impression that he had done it himself. He indirectly criticized supervisors, suggesting he was the one truly carrying the department.
Gradually, I realized I had been pulled into workplace politics. By default, I was on Matt’s “team”- after all, he had brought me in and expected me to appreciate him by being loyal. However, my personality does not allow me to stay silent when something feels wrong. I began asking questions, and slowly, I distanced myself from both Matt and the workplace politics.
Another realization hit me: just as freely as Matt had spoken to me about others, he had spoken to others about me. I was now perceived as confrontational simply because I spoke up. The narrative had already been shaped, and it made it difficult to raise concerns openly or be heard fairly.
Three years later, team members have come and gone. Matt remains. He continues to charm new hires with his people-pleasing, caring, humble, God-fearing image, drawing them into his orbit. He subtly positions himself as indispensable while encouraging others to leave- often telling them the grass is greener elsewhere. Yet he never leaves himself. Instead, he consolidates influence.
I have observed him indirectly sabotage senior colleagues who trust him- missing deadlines, failing on submissions, and shifting blame to others immediately a problem he caused is identified. He aligns with the right people to be favored, and the impact is always the same: others appear incompetent, while he remains untouched.

My growth in this organization is limited as long as Matt is here. Even if he were to leave, the perceptions he has established will continue to hinder my progress. I am no longer as open or bubbly as I once was. I now do my work, keep interactions polite but brief, and often wear headphones to avoid office gossip and pretense- much of it fueled by Matt.
Management views me as difficult and someone who has put up walls because I only want to do my work and go home. In reality, this is a coping mechanism- one I rely on until I can either secure another role or leadership recognizes the deeper cultural issues at play.
How did this experience make you feel or how did it affect you?
I feel deeply frustrated and undermined—not just on a personal level, but through a systematic pattern directed at anyone perceived as a threat to Matt’s dominance. I am angry that my growth has stalled simply because I trusted what I believed were his genuine intentions in helping me secure this role. In reality, I was used as leverage for him to negotiate better pay and consolidate his influence within the organization. What should I do?
What outcome would feel supportive for you or what support you wish existed?
I wish management would assess performance based on actual output relative to input, and on whether role expectations are met, rather than favoring employees who speak boldly and strategically position themselves for recognition. The system should promote transparent sharing of work updates, genuine mentoring and coaching of new hires without narrative manipulation, and structured growth and succession planning—so that long-tenured employees, acting out of frustration, are not able to negatively influence newcomers.


