MyWeku

Column: Secret Diary of a New Business Surviving Nigeria

Start my own Business, or Die Trying…

Ok so… I remember my aunt telling me there were three things in life you could never save up enough money to do: One, get married. Two, raise children. Three, die. She believed these were things you let take their natural cause and then the money needed for each grand occasion would somehow appear. Due to my experiences in the past couple of months I’m forced to add one more item to the list. Four, start your own business.

I have always had dreams of running my own business. In fact on many occasions I have started one or two tiny ventures alongside my employment but due to my loyal personality type I tended to focus more on my paid employment and somehow neglected my ‘tiny business ventures’. More than the desire to run my own business I think what makes it more compelling for me to become self employed is my personality. I am an intense, passionate, highly opinionated, annoying perfectionist. I like things done the right way, at the right time, in the right place and relish the opportunity to take on a worthy challenge. Sometimes an employer’s dream but most times a subordinate, colleague and manager’s nightmare! It is for these reasons that after thirteen years as an employee I have SUDDENLY decided to leave my job and start my own business. Hence, my addition to the list above…

So… alongside my new venture are other projects in my life like, moving into a new house and finding a suitable car to buy. All key elements to starting a new stable business. I am sure you would agree especially if your office is mostly operated out of your home. Luckily my new business is a Business Development and Project Management Consultancy so it does not involve too much start up capital as the key prerequisites to running the business are my own business experience, professional skills and intellect. However, even with this low capital venture the highest expense on the spreadsheet of my new business is looking like the ‘Nigerian factor’ as I am starting to learn that nothing is ever straight forward in Nigeria especially in Lagos.

DAY 1: I made a few calls to my friends and contacts to say I had left my job to start my own business. I am encouraged to hear people testify of my hard work and dedication. They also tell me they would be happy to employ my services whenever an opportunity presented itself. I am on my 4th call when I get invited to a meeting next week to pick up a brief from an ex-client consulting for one of the wealthiest men in Nigeria.

DAY 9: I meet with the client and I am commissioned on a small project. It’s not even a month and I have already made close to my previous salary. This should be easy I think to myself….

DAY 25: I move into my new flat which I leased using a considerable amount of my savings. Its bare as can be, floors, walls and three air conditioner holes in the wall is what my hard earned cash has bought me. In Nigeria rent is paid two years upfront and then annually after that.

DAY 29: I visit a close friend of my new wealthy client to ask him to take out an advert in my client’s publication for his friend’s event. He had stressed on the phone that I had to be punctual when he gave me the appointment so I was sure to get there early. I get to his office in good time and wait two hours for him to show up He then keeps me waiting another thirty minutes while he has his lunch and then invites me into his office. As I walk into his office I notice he is quite an old man, I am guessing about seventy-plus. He apologises for keeping me waiting saying he had to have lunch because he was extremely hungry. I politely tell him not to worry about it. He then goes on to comment to his secretary (whom I am guessing may as well be his ‘office wife’ judging from the way she fusses around him clearing up his lunch plate and urging him to drink his tea before it gets cold) and how pretty I am.

I smile politely, thank him and start my sales pitch. He abruptly stops me and asks “so what do you want?” I reply “I’d like you to place an advert in this publication honouring your friend and his event” He instructs his PA to write out a cheque but refuses to sign it. He then insists on giving me a tour of his chambers and then shows me his son’s picture telling me how proud he is of him for becoming a lawyer like him. He shakes my hand and then walks me to the door but I soon remind him I need the cheque signed. “oh” he says “I forgot!”. The darling old pa hands me the signed cheque we exchange pleasantries and I leave. Later on that evening he calls me and asks if I can meet him at a hotel for a drink! I politely decline.