My First Stint at Entrepreneurship

Man it’s been a while since I last published a blog post *blows dust off blogpost* there we go. I should get a cleaning lady here coz the accumulated dust is just too much. Cobwebs all over! I think I just saw a rat running past one of my blogposts, the one on relationships that all you ladies loved. Hehe yes that one! The one that made me seem like the guy who got away, slipped right through your fingers. So near yet so far! The reason you’re still regret never hitting on me in the first place. Well bygones are bygones. No use crying over spilt milk is there? Unless you are one of those professional mourners Luo Nyanza is famous for, and the deceased was called Spilt Milk. Peculiar name though, I wonder what could have inspired the parents to name a child Spilt Milk. Probably after a long day at work Omondi came home to Akinyi having passed by the fresh milk ATM at Tuskys. He was feeling especially philanthropic that day and took one and a half liters of milk. It was the 22^nd of the month, mwezi ilikua ishapiga corner kitambo and that would have been enough to take you till like the 26^th then you survive the last four days till 30^th on Strong Tea. You know what? This story is not heading anywhere. I’ve tried formulating a scenario where a person would be called Spilt Milk but that has hit a dead end. The spilt milk has run it’s course. I don’t know why I find that statement funny. Anyway this was not why I decided to blog today.

Aha! Yes, my first entrepreneurship stint. When was it? Maybe it happened long ago but the first that I can remember was when I was in class seven, (that’s for those of us who went tp primary school) or standard seven (for all you folks who were in academies) or year seven or grade seven (my international audience). Guys who went to group of schools, what did you call them? I have no clue. I think I’ll take my child(ren) to a Group of Schools just to find out.

So where was I, yes, class seven. I started a business of sorts, I had no intention of starting the business but being the canny, shrewd businessman (okay boy) that I was, or rather, hope to be, I spotted a gap in the market and I moved in to fill it. I had these friends of mine whose mother used to sell ballgums. Remember them? Guys who went to group of schools maybe this is where I lose you. Ballgums are what were there before Mr. Berry came to the market. They are like marbles, but chewable and come in all sorts of colours. Anyway these guys used to have the ballgums and they’d sell to my friends after school or on weekends as we leave Sunday School practice. I never bought any since I did not have any money. I was a day scholar and my folks, in their wisdom, never saw it fit to give me any pocket money. What for? I stayed at home, lunch was paid for in school, we had tea break at 10:00 am. Actually that was for boarders, day scholars used to take tea at 11:05 am. Long story short, I didn’t need pocket money.

So everytime my friends bought ballgums I could look at them with envy. I loved chewing gum, though to be honest, let’s just say I loved chewing everything. Paper, biro tubes, pen lids. Chewing gum was close to my heart. I once had a panic attack while playing piano in the national music festivals, pretty embarrassing and traumatizing. Chewing gum  helped me through it. I later won the competition, true story! Ask Victor Nyamwalo, he was there, I beat him hehehe. He’s not going to like that. Anyway I wanted to partake in the chewing gum group. I wanted to be like the cool kids who could afford to buy ballgums. A ballgum was only one shilling by the way.

So what did I do? One day while my folks were at work, I went to where they usually kept their bedroom key (needless to say, they no longer keep it there. Each one of them has their own copy which they travel with) You see, my parents had this saucer where they used to keep their coins, I don’t know whose parents also used to do that. This saucer came in handy especially on Sundays. My dad would reach into the saucer and get the coins and give my sister and I offering. My brother was like 4 years old then, mom used to keep his offering. So I went to the saucer. It was like a pot of gold, a treasure chest. I wasn’t interested in much, I just took 10 shillings, just enough to buy me 10 ballgums.

I got the ten shilling coin, cleaned the place of my fingerprints hehe, locked the door, took the key to where it was kept and I was off to school for evening preps. I only had one stop before going to school, my pals’ place to by ballgums. I bought 10 of them, 7 for me, and 3 for my little sister. I am a good brother like that I had no intention of giving anyone in school since it was illegal to chew gum in school.

I threw one into the mouth, closed my eyes and sucked it first. Let the sweet flavours run through my tongue. I used to love doing that. Preserving the ballgum let it last for longer. I sucked it until all the colour is gone and the gum is white then that is when I could chew. That was it, I was happy at peace. I could chew happily ever after.

So I got to school for preps. As expected, you can’t chew gum without your pals asking you for some, especially boarders who had no access to chewing gum. My desk was flocked with like 15 guys all wanting gum. I was like, “No guys, the gum isn’t mine. I’m supposed to take them to my sister.” I was resolved, and it was working. The guys were getting frustrated, angry even. My resolve went on till one Samson Kiai said “I’ll buy them from you.” Those were the magic words. Like a lady being wooed, I turned and was like, “Now you have my attention, continue.” He made an offer, one shilling a ballgum. I thought and that is when my entrepreneurial spirit came in, “I can make a killing here!” I thought to myself and I gave my own counteroffer, “Two shillings a ballgum.” That’s 100% profit! Just like that. Guys were desperate for sugar and the offer was accepted immediately. I think the guy bought three of them at that time, and another three by other guys. I had chewed the rest already. So I had like twelve shillings with me. The business was on! Oh, and I never took any ballgum to my sister. Don’t look at me like that! I had to reinvest everything into the business! It was the only way.

Anyway, the following day I bought another 10 and sold nearly all of them. I got 20 shillings, my customer base was growing fast! Recommendations went beyond the four walls of my class and I had investors wooing me. It was paradise…..until when the same Samson Kiai decided to chew gum during our English class. “Samson stop chewing!” the teacher said, Samson stopped, for like fifteen minutes then he was back to it. Another ballgum, he was well supplied. “Samson! I said stop chewing! Come throw that chewing gum in the dust bin.” Noisily, he got up, disturbed nearly everyone, it was a combined class I think, where two classes come together. After another 20 minutes. He was back at it again! Chewing and pulling gum with his fingers *slaps forehead* anyway this was the straw that broke the camel’s back (kids write that down). “Samson Kiai, go wait for me outside the headmaster’s office!” and off he went. Idiot, he deserved that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the headteacher was not there, so he was taken to the deputy head-teacher’s office. There was a break after the English class. Just before break was over, I went to the staffroom, to the Social Studies teacher’s desk to pick our books. I was the social studies class leader. The deputy head-teacher’s office was opposite the staffroom. As I left the staffroom, I could hear Samsom being interrogated. The kind of questions I heard sent chills through my body. Fear enveloped my. I stopped in my tracks, literally. I clearly heard the deputy head-teacher saying, “Samson, you must tell us who gave you the chewing gum! I know it must be a day scholar, it cannot be a boarder.” Man I was scared. I was shaking as I went to class. “Will he snitch? No he won’t! He better not. He should say that he was given during visiting day. HE BETTER NOT SNITCH.” That was all was going on in my mind. The teacher came in but as expected I was not concentrating.

A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts. The guy on the other side of the door did not wait for the teacher to say, “Come in” before opening the door. Yes, you know it, a tall, bespectacled man came in, the deputy head-teacher! “Kalya, Kalya” that’s how he used to call me, “Follow me to my office.” I was scared. I had been snitched on.

From there the script was as usual. I was caned into confessing. “Yes I was selling ballgums in school.” I was then ordered to write down a list of every person I had sold a ballgum to. At that point I wished I was El Chapo, dig a tunnel right through the office. My empire was crumbling, albeit in a pool of tears, but it was crumbling. With shaking hands I wrote down every name I could remember. Sorry guys, I had no choice.

That evening, I chose not to go home for dinner. I decided to play football with pals till late. A few minutes to seven pm, I headed back to school for preps. Upon getting to school, my dad’s car was there parked! I nearly cried. Oh, I had failed to mention, my dad was the chairman of the school board hehe and here his son was running an illegal empire. Still, the deputy head-teacher should have kept matters to himself. Guys who know my dad know he is a disciplinarian! I was summoned to the deputy head-teacher’s office yet again during prep and to this day, my classmates know I was whacked by my dad in school. To clear the air, and my name, I was almost caned. He had gone through the motions, selecting the best cane and my deputy-headteacher stepped in, saying, “I think what I gave him was enough!” And that is the short tale of my first entrepreneurship stint. Samson owes me a business empire though. As you were!