Decoding The Snafu, Together

Blogging about the unexpected twists and turns of organisational life.

Every workplace has its moments. Here at Snafu Blogs, we celebrate the beautiful mess of management decisions, tech tangles, and event planning escapades. Through lighthearted storytelling and gentle satire, we turn blunders into bonding and confusion into comedy. No finger-pointing, just a wink and a chuckle — because sometimes, the best way to fix a snafu is to laugh at it first. Our 'Snafu Blogs' are dedicated to navigating the inevitable complexities of staff welfare. We share insights and solutions for those unforeseen issues. Our mission is to turn snafus into learning opportunities.

The Great Audit Illusion

By MAMA LUBA

Training for Laws, Forgetting Audits

We keep telling ourselves we’re building a world-class revenue authority. We hire PhDs, lawyers, accountants—people who could probably solve quantum equations before breakfast. Then we train them endlessly on Revenue Laws, as if memorising statutes alone will magically produce flawless audits. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Auditing procedures? Coaching? Guidance? Those are apparently optional extras. Supervisors prefer the KPI vending machine approach: insert targets, dispense stress, repeat.

The Snafu in Action

Compliant taxpayers punished: Because nothing says “thank you for following the law” like a sloppy penalty.
Tax evaders rewarded: They slip through audits so easily it’s practically a loyalty program.
Supervisors as KPI DJs: Spinning numbers instead of mentoring, leaving staff to dance awkwardly to the wrong tune.

Our “World-Class” Comedy Routine

We dream of being world-class, but our audits look more like amateur improv. We recruit the best, then fail to teach them the basics of procedure. We talk about serving the nation, but end up serving confusion, mistrust, and a side dish of taxpayer resentment. It’s like buying a Ferrari and then forgetting to teach the driver how to use the brakes.

How to End the Farce

Replace KPI theatrics with actual coaching.
Train officers in auditing procedures, not just legal trivia.
Stop punishing the compliant—it’s bad optics, bad policy, and bad ethics.

Final Curtain

A snafu isn’t just a mistake—it’s a system that keeps repeating the same error until someone shouts, “Enough!” Consider this blog the shout. If we don’t fix our audit culture, we’ll remain a world-class recruiter with third-class results.

Leave Without Pay
A Policy in Snafu Mode

By MAMA LUBA

Leave Without Pay - A Policy in Snafu Mode

In theory, HR policies are meant to provide clarity, fairness, and consistency. In practice, our organisation’s approach to granting Leave Without Pay (LWP) has become a textbook example of a snafu—confusing, contradictory, and deeply demoralising.

When Rules Don’t Apply Equally

Many employees who applied for LWP have seen their requests flatly rejected. With no other option, some were forced to resign from their posts. These are dedicated staff members who simply needed time away, yet the system gave them no room to breathe. Meanwhile, others seem to have been born with golden spoons. One striking case: a contractual employee was granted LWP. Was this decision influenced by her personal connection—rumoured to be the wife of a high‑ranking figure? The optics are troubling, and the silence around the rationale is even worse.

Double Standards at Play

It doesn’t stop there. Several employees have reportedly been granted LWP to take up employment elsewhere. If the policy allows this, why are others denied even for personal or family reasons? If the policy doesn’t allow it, why are exceptions made behind closed doors?

Transparency: A Missing Ingredient

The organisation proudly calls itself a World Class Organisation. Yet when it comes to transparency in HR decisions, that claim rings hollow. A clear, published policy on LWP should be in place. Decisions should be consistent, documented, and communicated openly. Instead, what we see is favouritism, opacity, and confusion.

The Way Forward

If we truly aspire to world‑class standards, we must start with fairness. HR policies should be written, accessible, and applied equally to all. Anything less undermines trust, morale, and the organisation's credibility.

Call to Action

Employees deserve clarity. HR must publish a transparent Leave Without Pay policy now—one that applies equally to everyone, regardless of status or connections. Until then, the promise of being a “World Class Organisation” remains nothing more than a slogan.

Santa vs. HR

The Precedent Wars

By MAMA LUBA

Santa Claus and the HR Miracle

In the year 2014, MRASWA dared to dream. A few of us dipped into our own pockets to fund a workplace revolution: Santa Claus would visit staff during working hours. With two directors’ blessing, Santa marched into the departments, distributing gifts and goodwill like a red‑suited Robin Hood. For a moment, compliance smelled less of tax codes and more of peppermint.

But joy, as it turned out, was a dangerous precedent. HR, ever the guardian of solemnity, declared that extending Santa’s visits to Customs and other Departments would unleash chaos. Imagine the horror: staff expecting cheer every December! Productivity collapsing under the weight of chocolates! The precedent monster had to be slain. And so, Santa was banished from the corridors, exiled to the pavement outside the front exit door.

There, in the street, Santa reinvented himself as a welfare guerrilla. Staff queued alongside members of the public, who suddenly found themselves beneficiaries of workplace generosity. It was welfare without borders, a redistribution of joy that even economists might applaud.

Then came the twist worthy of a Christmas movie. One morning (a decade later), an email from HR arrived: Santa will visit everyone! The same HR that once feared precedent now promised universal cheer. The same gatekeepers of policy now opened the doors to festive disruption.

So, what changed?

New Board? Perhaps they decided that goodwill is cheaper than reform.

New Director-General? Maybe someone who believes morale is not a taxable benefit.

HR’s epiphany? A sudden realisation that precedent is not a plague, but a tradition.

Whatever the cause, the transformation was miraculous. From toxic resistance to supportive embrace, HR pulled off its own Christmas conversion. Santa was back inside, bells ringing, gifts flowing, morale rising.

And so, the Snafu Blog records another paradox: in the end, it wasn’t Santa who changed—it was management. The precedent wasn’t unwelcome after all. It was overdue.

The Reporting Riddle That Ate Almost Two Decades

By MAMA LUBA

When timelines overlap, efficiency takes a holiday.

The Setup
Every month and year, managers are asked to report on performance. Simple enough: just slot completed cases into neat categories:

Within 3 months, within 6 months, within 9 months, and within 12 months.

But somewhere along the way, the categories multiplied like rabbits. Only some managers correctly reported cases as “within 3 months” across all timelines. Others invented their own system:

Within 3 months, between 3 and 6 months, between 6 and 9 months, and between 9 and 12 months.

The result? Reports that look more like a Sudoku puzzle than performance data.

The Chaos
Lost hours: Staff spend more time fixing mistakes than analysing results and achieving their KPI.

20 years long déjà vu: The same snafu repeats year after year, like a sitcom rerun nobody asked for.

The irony: Junior officers spot the flaw immediately. Senior managers? Blissfully unfazed.

The Fallout
Consolidated reports become a battlefield of corrections. Meetings drag on. Charts contradict each other. And the organisation’s efficiency quietly erodes, one duplicated case at a time.

The Reflection
Unclear definitions are the breeding ground of snafus. Without a standard reporting framework, chaos is guaranteed.

The lesson?
Define categories clearly: “Within 6 months” should mean up to 6 months, not “between 3 and 6 months.”

Train managers consistently: Everyone should play by the same rulebook.

Audit the process: Catch overlaps before they snowball. Listen to the frontline: Sometimes the sharpest insights come from those who wrestle with the data daily.

The Moral
Performance reporting isn’t just about numbers — it’s about clarity. When definitions wobble, efficiency crumbles. Avoiding snafus means setting boundaries, sticking to them, and remembering: a timeline is not a choose-your-own-adventure story.

How to Snafu-Proof Your Reporting
- Define categories clearly: Use one consistent set of timelines (e.g., “within 3 months,” “within 6 months,” etc.) and avoid overlapping ranges.
- Standardise reporting templates: Provide managers with a single, locked format so data can’t be interpreted differently.
- Train and retrain: Hold short refresher sessions to ensure everyone understands the definitions and reporting rules.
- Audit early: Spot double-counting before consolidation by running quick checks at the monthly stage.
- Listen to frontline staff: Incorporate feedback from those who actually compile the reports — they often see problems first.
- Document the process: Keep a clear “reporting manual” so new managers don’t reinvent categories.

The Party That Costs Us

By MAMA LUBA

Ah, the annual end‑of‑year get‑together. That sacred ritual where employers say “thank you” for twelve months of blood, sweat, and unpaid overtime. Except this year, the gratitude comes with a cover charge. Yes, folks, we’re being asked to pay to attend our own recognition ceremony. Nothing screams appreciation like a receipt.

And the cherry on top? We’ve got six days to confirm. Six. Because apparently, after a year of juggling deadlines, we should be able to juggle calendars like circus clowns too. Quick, everyone — drop your projects, cancel your dentist appointments, and RSVP before the gratitude window slams shut.

Now, management assures us the venue is “premium” and the entertainers are “high‑profile.” Translation: someone signed a check the size of our collective bonuses so we can watch celebrities perform while eating average fare. Did anyone ask for this? No. Did anyone say, “Please, spend lavishly so we can pay for the privilege of clapping”? Also no.

What we wanted was simple: togetherness. A night to laugh, relax, and maybe toast to surviving another year without losing our sanity. Instead, we’re funding a spectacle that feels less like a celebration and more like a corporate masquerade ball where the masks are mandatory and the gratitude is optional.

So here’s the real snafu: recognition shouldn’t come with a ticket price. If appreciation is something we have to buy, then maybe it’s not appreciation at all — it’s just another invoice disguised as a party.

“Cheers to us — the only workforce that pays to be thanked.”

The Ten-Year Club

By MAMA LUBA

Policy says: “Rotation ensures fairness, exposure, and efficiency.” Reality says: “Some staff rotate… while others build permanent homes.”

Musical Chairs Without Music

Rotation was designed to be like musical chairs. Everyone gets a turn, everyone learns new skills, and nobody gets too comfortable. However, some chairs seem to be bolted to the floor.

Entire segments of staff have been posted in the same department for more than ten years. They’ve mastered the art of staying put, while others keep waiting for their chance to move.

Privileges on Repeat

Instead of rotation, we see accumulation: overtime opportunities, familiar routines, and privileges that pile up year after year. For some, it’s less about rotation and more about reservation.

The Impact

Morale sinks: Staff who follow the rules feel sidelined.
Efficiency suffers: Skills stagnate when people stay in one comfort zone.
Fairness fades: Privileges pile up for a few, while others get crumbs.

The Punchline

Rotation without rotation is like a comedy skit where the punchline never changes. The policy exists, but its application is selective. And selective application is the perfect recipe for a workplace snafu.

So here’s the question we leave hanging:
Is rotation a policy… or a privilege?

The Bias Compass

By MAMA LUBA

Policy says: “Rotation ensures equal opportunity for all staff.”

Reality says: “Rotation ensures opportunity… for some staff.”

A Compass That Always Points One Way

Rotation was meant to be the great equaliser — a fair system where everyone gets exposure to different departments. However, in practice, the compass appears to be stuck, pointing only toward a select few.

Instead of spinning the wheel of opportunity, decisions appear guided by invisible hands of bias. Some staff move freely, while others remain anchored, waiting for their turn that never comes.

The Selective Spin

Familiar faces keep landing in the same favourable postings.

New opportunities bypass certain staff as if their names were never on the list.

Rotation becomes less about fairness and more about favouritism.

The Impact

Morale dips: Staff lose faith in the system when fairness feels optional.

Trust erodes: Policies lose credibility when applied selectively.

Unity fractures: Bias creates divisions rather than fostering collaboration.

The Punchline

A compass that points only one way isn’t guiding anyone — it’s just stuck. And when rotation follows bias instead of policy, the workplace becomes less about growth and more about privilege.

So here’s the question we leave hanging:

Is rotation a system… or a circle of favourites?

The Policy Door That Never Opens

By MAMA LUBA

Policy says: “Rotation is the key to fairness and growth.”

Reality says: “The door is there, but only certain keys fit.”

A Door That Stays Shut

On paper, rotation is a shining promise — a doorway to opportunity, skill-building, and fairness. In practice, the door appears permanently locked to many staff members. The policy exists, but its implementation hinges only on a select few.

For others, it’s like standing outside a door with no handle, watching colleagues walk in and out freely. At the same time, they remain stuck in the corridor.

The Selective Keyholders

Some staff always seem to have the master key.

Others keep knocking, but the door never opens.

Rotation becomes less about policy and more about privilege.

The Impact

Frustration grows: Staff lose faith when access feels restricted.

Skills stagnate: Opportunities to learn across departments remain locked away.

Fairness fades: The promise of equal treatment becomes a hollow phrase.

The Punchline

A policy door that never opens is worse than no door at all — it teases opportunity but delivers disappointment. And when policies remain locked, the workplace becomes less about growth and more about gatekeeping.

So here’s the question we leave hanging:

Is rotation a policy… or a locked door?

The Overtime Oasis

By MAMA LUBA

Policy says: “Rotation ensures equal distribution of opportunities.”

Reality says: “Some staff rotate between overtime sheets and privilege perks.”

An Oasis in the Desert

Rotation was meant to spread opportunities like water in a desert—refreshing everyone equally. However, in practice, certain staff members have discovered an oasis: fixed postings that guarantee overtime, familiar routines, and perks that never run dry.

For them, rotation is less about growth and more about guarding their personal paradise.

Privileges on Tap

Overtime flows alsteadily for the same group.

Perks accumulate kyear after year, untouched by rotation.

Comfort zones become fortresses, shielding them from change.

The Impact

Frustration grows: Others see the oasis but can’t drink from it.

Skills stagnate: Staff outside the oasis miss out on new experiences.

Fairness fades: Rotation becomes a mirage, visible but unreachable.

The Punchline

An oasis is meant to refresh everyone, not just a few. But when rotation is ignored, the privileges pool is in one corner while the rest of the staff wander the desert.

So here’s the question we leave hanging:

Is rotation a policy… or a private oasis?

The Morale Mirage

By MAMA LUBA

Policy says: “Rotation builds motivation and unity.”

Reality says: “Motivation evaporates when rotation is applied selectively.”

A Mirage in the workplace

Rotation was supposed to be the fountain of fairness — a system that keeps staff motivated, engaged, and hopeful. But for many, it feels more like chasing a mirage in the desert. The promise of equal opportunity seems to shimmer in the distance, but when they get closer, it disappears.

The Vanishing Act

Fairness fades awhen only certain staff benefit from rotation.

Motivation dries up as others realise the policy is more illusion than reality.

Unity cracks bwhen staff see privileges outweighing principle.

The Impact

Disillusionment spreads: OStaff stop believing in the system.

Performance dips: A demotivated workforce struggles to give its best.

Trust erodes: Policies lose credibility when they're inconsistently applied.

The Punchline

A mirage may look beautiful, but it never quenches thirst. And when rotation becomes a mirage, morale vanishes, leaving frustration in its place of fairness.

So here’s the question we leave hanging:

Is rotation a motivator… or just a mirage?

Grooming:

The Corporate Hunger Games

By MAMA LUBA

Every morning begins with the same sacrifice: time, money, and sanity offered at the altar of corporate grooming. The company insists that being well dressed is a Key Performance Indicator. Translation: if your eyeliner smudges, so does your career.

The ritual is costly. Foundation, suits, hair products—none of it reimbursed. The hours spent sculpting yourself into a “professional” are invisible labor. And then, after the transformation, you sprint to work, praying you don’t arrive late. Because in this twisted morality play, punctuality is the only virtue that matters.

And then comes the lift. The senior manager, perched like a vulture, delivers his daily line: "At what time do you wake up in the morning?"

It’s not curiosity. It’s mockery. A reminder that while the company demands polish, individuals within it sneer at the polishers. Grooming is mandatory, but apparently also laughable.

This is the corporate paradox:

Your face is a KPI.

Your time is expendable.

Your dignity is optional.

The lift becomes a confessional booth where you’re judged not for your work, but for the hours you sacrificed to look employable. It’s less “team culture” and more “corporate Hunger Games”—may the best-groomed survive.

So here’s the punchline: the real KPI isn’t grooming, punctuality, or stakeholder perception. It’s endurance. Endurance to wake up early, endure the unpaid ritual, endure the sprint to work, and endure the commentary in the lift.

Because in this theatre of absurdity, mascara isn’t just makeup—it’s war paint..

When Poor Planning Becomes Everyone’s Problem

By Mama Luba

Projects don’t fail because of lack of effort. They fail because of lack of foresight.

Recently, we witnessed a textbook snafu: senior managers launched a project without thinking through the basics. On paper, it looked straightforward—deploy 25+ officers to handle client-related tasks. In practice, it turned into a time-wasting exercise.

Why?

Because the officers were forced to retrieve information one by one—business sectors, phone numbers, client details—that could have easily been compiled at the very start. Imagine the hours lost in chasing down data that should have been sitting neatly in a file from day one.

The irony?

Senior managers dismissed the importance of this preparation, only to later pile pressure on the officers to meet deadlines. Stress levels skyrocketed, efficiency plummeted, and morale took a hit. The officers weren’t failing; they were being set up to fail.

Had the managers taken the right decision at the planning stage, the assignments could have been completed in half the time. Instead, the project became a cautionary tale of how ignoring small details creates big problems.

Lessons from the Snafu

Preparation is not optional: Collecting client data upfront saves hours later.
Respect the execution team: Officers can only work with the tools and information they’re given.
Pressure doesn’t fix poor planning: Deadlines mean little if the foundation is flawed.
Efficiency starts at the top: Senior managers set the tone—either for success or for chaos.

SNAFU in the

Audit Department

By Mama luba

When Metrics Trump Mission

It started with a spreadsheet. A crisp, colour-coded KPI chart landed in our inboxes one Monday morning. The directive was clear: every audit officer was required to complete 200 cases per year. That’s one case per working day. No exceptions. No context. Just numbers. At first, we thought it was a mistake. Surely, someone had miscalculated. After all, preparing a case for audit takes a full day — sometimes more. The actual audit? That’s another week or month. But the directive stood firm. The director had spoken.

The Fallout Begins

The mood in the office shifted overnight. What was once a collaborative, mission-driven team became a pressure cooker of stress and silent panic. Officers scrambled to meet the quota, cutting corners to make it through the day. Thoroughness gave way to speed. Quality bowed to quantity. And then came the ripple effects. - Objection and appeal cases skyrocketed, as sloppy audits led to flawed conclusions. - The appeals department, already stretched thin, began to buckle under the weight of rework. - Morale plummeted. Conversations turned into venting sessions. Some officers even considered leaving.

A Mission Misaligned

Our organisation prides itself on integrity, diligence, and fairness. But this KPI decision — however well-intentioned — undermines all three. It’s a classic SNAFU. A decision made in isolation, without understanding the operational reality, has created chaos that now feels routine.

What We Need?

This isn’t just about numbers. It’s about people. It’s about purpose. It’s about aligning metrics with mission. We need leadership that listens, adapts, and understands that not all productivity is measurable in daily quotas. Until then, we’ll keep doing our best — even if the system seems determined to trip us up.