"Although prepared for martyrdom, I preferred that it be postponed" - Winston Churchill
I once read that suicide bombers are able to rationalize the momentary discomfort of martyrdom by focusing on the eternal pleasures of being serviced by 72 virgins in the afterlife. This is precisely the sort of faith-based logic that I chose to embrace before making the great leap out of banking. My high school economics teacher referred to purgatory (this period without income) as 'dis-saving'. Dis-saving was the most terrifying prospect I had ever considered in my adult life. I could foresee a future of budgeting, coupon collections and requests for handouts. Naturally, this was akin to committing career suicide. The most rational decision, in my opinion, was to postpone this eventuality and 'lay the ground work'. In other words, laying the ground work was simply making plans to contain the damage from the implosion of my bank account. In order to accomplish this, I tried my hand at 3 different business concepts which ended up schooling me in real world economics.
Economics 101: Product Differentiation ( i.e. no one is doing what I am doing)
Anyone who lives in a 3rd world country knows that the best business to own is one where you get paid in 1st world currency. My first attempt at laying the ground work was to launch an export trading company. My market research was limited to one ethos: go where no one is going. That simple strategy somehow led to me to avocados. Yes, avocados. I liked eating them and I thought that other countries should enjoy eating them too.
A trip to my local Japanese restaurant confirmed one fact: an awful amount of avocado is used in the creation of sushi. I resolved that I would export avocados to the number one specialist consumer country: Japan. If you are wondering how I thought it possible to earn a fat margin exporting the proverbial ice to Eskimos with a minimal operating budget- then perhaps I should provide a brief lesson on the chutzpah of banking. Bankers (and traders in particular) are skilled in the art of convincing one party to readily give up money for a token return while simultaneously lending out the same money at a premium rate to another party. Occasionally, the bankers lend out more money than they should have, burn their fingers and then use tax payer funds to pay themselves annual bonuses. This is banking 101.
Using a derivative of banking 101, I decided to follow a simpler equation to worldly wealth:
1. Find a Japanese supermarket who was looking for novelty premium supplies: i.e. buying each avocado at $10
2. Find an African farmer who was looking for a naive buyer: i.e. a banker who would buy each avocado at $2
3. Find a sympathetic European who would brand my avocados as "Certified Organic"
4. Find an unsuspecting African child (complete with Colgate smile) to act as the face of my product
5. Find myself on the cover of Forbes Africa as the new face of humane agri-business (while banking a gross margin of $8 per avocado)
Suffice to say, I was quickly schooled in yet another economic principle referred to as: comparative advantage. My smiling African baby avocados were no match for cheap and cheerful Filipino avocados.
Economics 102: Black Market (i.e. go where few in their right mind would go)
One central principle I learned from my high net worth clients and the philosopher rapper Meek Mill is: "scared money don't make no money". Occasionally, tremendous opportunities are found where few would dare to wander. This risk taking appetite led me to a war-torn territory known as the Democratic Republic of Congo (D.R.C). I was attracted to the D.R.C for three reasons:
A. All business is transacted in US dollars
B. The tax regime is best described as optional
C. I watched a movie called Viva la Riva (and apparently there are women like her in Kinshasa)
I decided to form a joint venture with another bright eyed millionaire-in-the-making who lived in the D.R.C. This venture would certainly not be certified organic by any sympathetic, tree-hugging, croissant-munching European liberal. Our path to profit would be lined by mercenary timber trading. In simple English, we would cut down forests and make money*.
*Disclaimer: This was possibly the lowest point of my moral consciousness. My sister had once predicted that I would grow up to become one of those people who sell forests in Africa to drive a Range Rover. I was simply fulfilling the prophecy after a detour in white collar banking.
The operational logistics of this joint venture were certainly more complex than selling organic produce. The strategy I pursued is summarized below:
1. Find an Asian furniture maker and source an order book for timber
2. Call in the order to my D.R.C counterpart who would speak to a 'friend'
3. A Friend would place a call to a guy who lived in a rain forest
4. A guy who lived in a rain forest would hire more guys to find specific type of wood and cut it
5. Wood would be placed on a truck en route to the port
6. Cash would be available to pay off soldiers and rebels located between the rain forest and port
7. Find a bank willing to fund this crazy scheme (based on a legitimate back to back letter of credit structure)
8. Drink Moet and party with pretty girls while our minions labored in the rain forest
It was pure evil genius. Alas, the Gods above saw to it that my plans were frustrated by an unanticipated country-specific obstacle. The D.R.C is located in a part of Africa that most people would characterize as francophone Africa. Francophone Africa is known for excellent restaurants, exotic women and music videos shot against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower. Francophone Africa is, unfortunately, not known for work ethic. The business failed to take off because my partner couldn't marshal his friend and rain forest guy to respond in a time frame that would be considered internationally competitive.
Economics 103: White label (i.e. pay someone else to do most of the work)
I was distraught by the two still born ventures that I had launched and it appeared that I would never be liberated out of banking. That was until a chance meeting with a prospect bank client who directed my clandestine efforts into new age business. He suggested that I consider exporting a white labelled finished product**.
**White labelled finished product: the corporate version of passing off someone else's homework as your own
I decided to white label my own brand of tea.
This decision caused a fair amount of confusion among those who knew me. Precisely because I was going to attempt to create a brand of tea in spite of the fact that I didn't even drink tea. Perhaps I had taken the advice to not get high on your own supply a bit too literally.
In a series of events which can only be considered miraculous I managed to achieve the following milestones in the creation of my tea brand:
A. I convinced the largest private tea company in Africa to buy, blend and package my tea for export
B. I hired a team of professional consultants to create a market entry strategy for the export focused tea brand
C. I begun to experiment with different blends of tea
D. I invented an (admittedly dubious) name for my brand of tea- teabutea (sounds like Tea Booty)
I was weeks away from shipping my sample of tea to various importers in Pakistan and Brazil, when a random e-mail from a bank co-worker changed the course of my entrepreneurial efforts. She introduced me to a guy (whose name sounded vaguely familiar) and requested that I listen to a business concept that he was in the process of planning. As I have often said, a single conversation can change everything.
Next & Final Blog Post: Act 1: Scene 8: The End of the End
I once read that suicide bombers are able to rationalize the momentary discomfort of martyrdom by focusing on the eternal pleasures of being serviced by 72 virgins in the afterlife. This is precisely the sort of faith-based logic that I chose to embrace before making the great leap out of banking. My high school economics teacher referred to purgatory (this period without income) as 'dis-saving'. Dis-saving was the most terrifying prospect I had ever considered in my adult life. I could foresee a future of budgeting, coupon collections and requests for handouts. Naturally, this was akin to committing career suicide. The most rational decision, in my opinion, was to postpone this eventuality and 'lay the ground work'. In other words, laying the ground work was simply making plans to contain the damage from the implosion of my bank account. In order to accomplish this, I tried my hand at 3 different business concepts which ended up schooling me in real world economics.
 |
| Say good bye to the good life, say good bye to consistent income |
Economics 101: Product Differentiation ( i.e. no one is doing what I am doing)
Anyone who lives in a 3rd world country knows that the best business to own is one where you get paid in 1st world currency. My first attempt at laying the ground work was to launch an export trading company. My market research was limited to one ethos: go where no one is going. That simple strategy somehow led to me to avocados. Yes, avocados. I liked eating them and I thought that other countries should enjoy eating them too.
 |
| The versatile avocado: you can eat it or wear it on your face |
Using a derivative of banking 101, I decided to follow a simpler equation to worldly wealth:
1. Find a Japanese supermarket who was looking for novelty premium supplies: i.e. buying each avocado at $10
2. Find an African farmer who was looking for a naive buyer: i.e. a banker who would buy each avocado at $2
3. Find a sympathetic European who would brand my avocados as "Certified Organic"
4. Find an unsuspecting African child (complete with Colgate smile) to act as the face of my product
5. Find myself on the cover of Forbes Africa as the new face of humane agri-business (while banking a gross margin of $8 per avocado)
Suffice to say, I was quickly schooled in yet another economic principle referred to as: comparative advantage. My smiling African baby avocados were no match for cheap and cheerful Filipino avocados.
Economics 102: Black Market (i.e. go where few in their right mind would go)
One central principle I learned from my high net worth clients and the philosopher rapper Meek Mill is: "scared money don't make no money". Occasionally, tremendous opportunities are found where few would dare to wander. This risk taking appetite led me to a war-torn territory known as the Democratic Republic of Congo (D.R.C). I was attracted to the D.R.C for three reasons:
A. All business is transacted in US dollars
B. The tax regime is best described as optional
C. I watched a movie called Viva la Riva (and apparently there are women like her in Kinshasa)
 |
| Beyonce has family in Kinshasa |
I decided to form a joint venture with another bright eyed millionaire-in-the-making who lived in the D.R.C. This venture would certainly not be certified organic by any sympathetic, tree-hugging, croissant-munching European liberal. Our path to profit would be lined by mercenary timber trading. In simple English, we would cut down forests and make money*.
*Disclaimer: This was possibly the lowest point of my moral consciousness. My sister had once predicted that I would grow up to become one of those people who sell forests in Africa to drive a Range Rover. I was simply fulfilling the prophecy after a detour in white collar banking.
The operational logistics of this joint venture were certainly more complex than selling organic produce. The strategy I pursued is summarized below:
1. Find an Asian furniture maker and source an order book for timber
2. Call in the order to my D.R.C counterpart who would speak to a 'friend'
3. A Friend would place a call to a guy who lived in a rain forest
4. A guy who lived in a rain forest would hire more guys to find specific type of wood and cut it
5. Wood would be placed on a truck en route to the port
6. Cash would be available to pay off soldiers and rebels located between the rain forest and port
7. Find a bank willing to fund this crazy scheme (based on a legitimate back to back letter of credit structure)
8. Drink Moet and party with pretty girls while our minions labored in the rain forest
It was pure evil genius. Alas, the Gods above saw to it that my plans were frustrated by an unanticipated country-specific obstacle. The D.R.C is located in a part of Africa that most people would characterize as francophone Africa. Francophone Africa is known for excellent restaurants, exotic women and music videos shot against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower. Francophone Africa is, unfortunately, not known for work ethic. The business failed to take off because my partner couldn't marshal his friend and rain forest guy to respond in a time frame that would be considered internationally competitive.
Economics 103: White label (i.e. pay someone else to do most of the work)
I was distraught by the two still born ventures that I had launched and it appeared that I would never be liberated out of banking. That was until a chance meeting with a prospect bank client who directed my clandestine efforts into new age business. He suggested that I consider exporting a white labelled finished product**.
**White labelled finished product: the corporate version of passing off someone else's homework as your own
I decided to white label my own brand of tea.
 |
| Dude...have you lost your mind?! |
In a series of events which can only be considered miraculous I managed to achieve the following milestones in the creation of my tea brand:
A. I convinced the largest private tea company in Africa to buy, blend and package my tea for export
B. I hired a team of professional consultants to create a market entry strategy for the export focused tea brand
C. I begun to experiment with different blends of tea
D. I invented an (admittedly dubious) name for my brand of tea- teabutea (sounds like Tea Booty)
I was weeks away from shipping my sample of tea to various importers in Pakistan and Brazil, when a random e-mail from a bank co-worker changed the course of my entrepreneurial efforts. She introduced me to a guy (whose name sounded vaguely familiar) and requested that I listen to a business concept that he was in the process of planning. As I have often said, a single conversation can change everything.
Next & Final Blog Post: Act 1: Scene 8: The End of the End
