Its interesting how much people look for money… would do anything just for money and spend just about everyday of their lives ensuring that they get money. The biggest scare that people have is the possibility of waking up one day without a clue as to where you will get some dimes for your meal that day.
I recently started being a better entrepreneur partly because of the business acumen that 6 months in the Strathmore environment has instilled in me already but mainly because of a string of philosophies I have come to accept with regard to wealth creation.
To start with it is often said that it takes a risk taker to start a business. Thats what you think and that’s what I have thought for a while but in reality its like saying it takes a human to get married. In other words its an obvious fact.. and not only is it obvious but being a risk taker is a universal property so either way its not really a special condition that sets out entrepreneurs from other people.
Everyone takes a risk everyday of their life and for the most important decisions of their lives. Even getting married is a risk. A whole chain of them. Who knows; You might end up marrying a dude with a tiny bedlife or end up with a chic who likes a too many bedtime workshops and is not afraid to take on a multi-user interface. You might even end up getting kids with serious complications that will stress you till death does you part or insanity does your brain part, whichever comes first.
Another risk is the all too familiar risk of getting divorced and having to settle mad settlement bills. You could ask the Tiger man what it feels like to pour 750 million American guap units on an angry blonde white woman… who he imported might I add. Earlier proclaimed emotions of love during the ceremony of wedlock are quickly forgotten in the dissolution ceremony in pursuit of the main factor that sustains human survival today, the guap extract, the cheddar. The Money!
Another thing that just about everybody risks is going to school to secure an economic future. I mean what are the chances that you will end up failing an exam even when you have read for it? Not very small. I mean people forget their ATM pins all the time, how much easier would it be for you to forget the answer to a 15 point question even after repeatedly reading for it throughout the semester and consequently missing that honours degree that many employers make a big fuss of nowadays. Its never guaranteed that education will grant you a living. I come across people with good degrees whose lives get tangled in unexpected messes that haul them into despair. I also come across people who failed in their university education and still end up in reputable positions in high offices one way or another.
What really matters is what you can offer the world? Bernard Otieno, the famous sports commentator from the Nation studios once gave a speech about making it in the world and he concluded by stating that you either have brains or talent. A lot of people end up getting confused as to which side of the line they fall until circumstances pressure them enough to tip over and explore the other side. People envy footballers and say that they are overpaid but I ask how many doctors can actually pack a cinema hall to capacity with a filming of their most technical surgical operation. Yes that is right, zilch! Footballers pack up stadiums but they obviously dont save lives. We clearly need both professionals. Thus said everyone has his thing, what you might call a Hustlepass to life. Some find it and some dont but the sooner you discover it, the younger you will be when your driving that dream car.
Have you ever woken up and felt like your legs were semiparalysed. Its been happening to me for a while now especially after a good night’s sleep. There are two possible explanations I have cooked up so far. either my head is so big that it can concort dreams that come in HD hence requiring more oxygen circulation to fuel the high level of activity in my brain and thus leaving less to my legs or my nerves are becoming slower when I go to sleep hence making simple messages such as “Wake up legs. Time to deliver my ass to the breakfast table.” take longer to be relayed. Whichever it is, it is becoming more and more of a concern! Anyways this was one of the minor issues occupying my mind this Sunday morning.
I just happened to be goin through today’s Buzz magazine in the Daily Nation and read through an interview with one Charles Njagua a prolific Kenyan artiste more commonly known by the stagename Jaguar. I still dont get why people hate on his latest song Kigeugeu. I know it has the whole wierd intonation thing when pronounced but once you get the message behind the lyrics you come to appreciate this guy as one of the few real artists that the Kenyan music industry still has to show for all its decades of existence. The part that totally captured me was when he mentioned that he had at one point worked as a tout for Buruburu matatus! Maybe a good number of you are already familiar with his story but lets have a look at the stats here. THE DUDE IS FRIGGIN 28! and he own an entire security company an automobile company etc etc… all the way from being a druggie kange. Not to sound cliche here but huyu msee ametoka mbali! Many also have attested to his story and it only goes to show how the good old hard work principle still operates even to date. He is of course not the only kange-turned-millionaire story I have heard over the past one year. I have actually heard two others. One was the story of a conductor who became a driver and finally a succesful preacher cum businessman with millions to his name today. Another was the story of a Connection Bus conductor who even had a degree in business administration while pushing his job. He saved his way through to earning another degree in early childhood development and starting his own children school, line of restaurants amongst other ventures and now he is clearly reaping profits from his abode in Kileleshwa.
Everytime I come across these stories it makes me wonder why thousands upon thousands of young Kenyans are still tarmacking their energetic appendages all over the city to earn some meagre breadcrumbs in relation to the true worth of their education. Its about time Kenyan youth amkad and seriously chorad biznas that can catapult this country to its deserved heights of economic growth. As any economist will tell you, no country ever made it to developed status by just reducing its unemployment rate. Its the fruit of entrepreneurial endevours that pushes that developed GDP to 10 times that of a developing country. The already existent business in this country are pretty happy with their workforce capacities. Yaani hawahitaji vifaranga. I even get the feeling that whats going on today with Kenyan industries is something we can call Pity Employment- A situation where well-to-do companies are hiring some proportion of fresh graduates each year just to please the government and the ever-watchful society (read press) at large; Another cheap CSR move costing them a small collective sum of paltry intern allowances, yaani petty cash. Trust me I’ve been there and done that.. but havent we all? Is that all we are worth for with the 16 years of hard earned knowledge we accumulate from the 8-4-4 system. Unfortunately most of our youth still believe its the government’s duty not only to provide them with peanut salary opportunities but also steer economic development and growth. Saaaaaaad!
So back to my guitar..
The time is 1256hrs and I am starving. I am supposed to be reading for Wednesday’s exam on Financial Accounting but the blasphemy of the boredom that it smites me with quickly repels me to more interesting notions… notions I can share with my circle of blogging comrades. And so I begin to wander. aimlessly at first and still aimlessly at second. The hunger pangs urge me against this self inflicted torture but my mind feeds on – the rays of expressionism that lurk beyond the doors of the B.A.K.E (Blogging Association of Kenya) corridors. I try, my mental tongue on this and that blog post while applauding the chefs and where it deems necessary, critiquing their chosen ingredients.
My stomach continues to wail in despair as I ignore the physiological to unravel the psychological. A poet at last, one of my kind but more so in a past life. I dig into his thesis with open eyes looking for sparks of wit and deviance. For certain, the deviance is sprawled over his art piece but the wit is wanting, with all due respect. Nevertheless, I take what is offered and give in to my mortal demands. Slowly, I lift myself from the comfortable wooden fixture that has been caressing my rear ends and head on to the kitchen wherein lies the microwave, a device I have come to highly revere in my cause for natural survival. .. le finn