The Guest House: A Personal Account of the Jasiri Experience

Prelude

On the night of 24th May 2024, the Jasiri4Africa Talent Investor Program held a Gala event for fellows of its 5th Cohort, code-named Liyu, of which I am a member. During the day a large tent was brought to Tuuza Inn, the guest house cum training center where we had lived and learned over the preceding 12 weeks. At night, we proceeded to the tent raised at Bustani Gardens, a weird name as it translates from Swahili to "Garden Garden" in English, but that's besides the point.

I love stories - hearing, reading, and telling them. So with support from Aneth B. , I wiggled myself into the gala night's packed schedule, to read out a story. I sat down to write the speech. Looking at Jalaluddin Rumi's poem, "The Guest House" and Haruki Murakami's novel, "Kafka on the Shore", I found a premise for the story. This here is an expansion of the speech I read during that gala night:

?

1.? The First Night

It was just the other day when Natty, the hairy one, stood right here and failed terribly at naming even a single one of us. He just shamelessly stuttered. Pointing at Rinah, who was trying as much as possible to hide behind the towering man infront of her, he shouted, “She is an impersonator, I swear, I’ve seen someone who looks exactly like her!”

Dawit moved awkwardly away from Rinah, blowing her cover, and found himself next to Bona - in whose face Natty stopped, but only for a moment. “That one, mmmh, he looks very boring!” Natty’s eyes then, like an unrelenting specter, proceeded with their tracking of Dawit – whom he finally landed upon: “And that one, I know that one, he’s an alien!”

I cannot fault Natty for not knowing any of us. We were all strangers to one another. Save for those two adorable HeLo Girls there, and whom many struggled with distinguishing one from the other for quite a while, many of us did not know of one another’s existence before Jasiri brought us together here at Tuuza.

But putting names aside, momentarily, let’s travel those 3 months back in time. We were all scattered across this same field and under the same dome we are in today. So were several Jasiri staff. I remember Sadikh MBENGUE standing over there all calm and mysterious in his flowing Senegalese kaftan like some sort of griot you might encounter telling tall tales under a Sahelian Baobab Tree.

Nadine Nkulikiyinka stood here, close to the steps with a round majestic afro and a slight, gentle smile. It seems just like the other day, those 12 weeks ago, when Aline Kabanda walked past Nadine and Sadikh and went up those steps, to usher us into the residence. It was a few minutes after Natty had exited the stage and left everyone laughing, as he always does, when Aline spoke about her father.

Baba Aline was turning 88 that day/night. She spoke with care, in a soft tone, to us, about him. Aline stated that her father, a lifelong learner, believes that education is more than just an opportunity to expand one’s worldview. Baba Aline also believes that education, including fellowships such as this Jasiri Program, is also a privilege that carries an immense responsibility.

That responsibility, which she stated we now all bear as Jasiri Fellows, is to use whichever education one gets access to as a force for good. Aline, in her closing remarks said, “This an opportunity to create something that yields meaningful impact, make the most of it.”

?

2.? Day Break

The next day we sat at the Pressure Cooker for the first time. Isidore Iradukunda, PMP scanned around the room, tilted his head to the left, just a little, and said, “Mmmh, interesting!” He said little, that day, for a man who during the next several weeks would have much to say and indeed said them – the good, the bad, and the ugly – as he helped steer our journey into the directions that may yield innovative startups.

Next, Anthony Farr came forth and taking over the mic, he said, “Jasiri is an aqueduct.” He paused briefly then added, “built on top of a solid support system.”? Anthony spent a few more minutes explaining how aqueducts, both in ancient times and today, are to ferry water across vast expanses to satisfy human needs. “I urge you to tap into your collective pool of talents.” He concluded: “Use this aqueduct we have availed to you to channel your ambitions into high growth ventures.” ?

Many waters have passed under the bridge since those first few days here at Tuuza. In the intervening period we have interracted with several coaches - including Dennis Mhangami - THE STARTUP COACH , Akua Nyame-Mensah , Elton Mutize , David Küsel , Janine Rutsch , Fergus Turner and Chidi Afulezi - from whom we have learnt numerous concepts running across both team and business development. Their cooaching sessions have helped us co-create different companies, such as Baobab Superfoods , in my case.

And now we stand here once again, as we did that night 12 weeks ago, we do so with a relatively higher degree of clarity on the kind of ventures we wish to create. Many of us, strangers then, have turned into good friends and in our respective teams, business partners. In fact, we may now even be able to tell a few stories about one another’s names.

Take the example of my colleagues here, Betty and Jerome. As for Irumva ("He has listened", approximately, in Kinyarwanda), his parents named him thus in praise of God (Imana) for, eventually, hearing their years of prayers for a son. As for Bethlehem, who here doesn't know how she is? Betty probably just blatantly stole the name from a whole City of God's Son!

Of course, this better knowledge of one another and identification of ventures to create does not mean that this residential intensive period has not been a smooth, easy ride. It has had its ups and downs for all of us. Some of us have struggled with team formation and, where necessary, re-formation. Others have struggled with problem identification and validation. Most of us have had moments of severe despair and self-doubt. Even at this very moment, none of us has everything figured out.

Yet, at the same time, it is safe to say we have all had our fair share of great times here. It has been a great DaJoy! We have laughed and sang and danced together more times than both my fingers and toes – these ones here - can accommodate. Be it here at Tuuza or in the numerous places we discovered outside, like Bona’s place, or that tiny piece of Cuba across the road from here, and other hidden gems you all know too well. ?

May those joyful memories endure, long after our farewells!

?

3.? The Last Night

?“Like flowers scattered in a storm, man's life is one long farewell,” writes the Japanese Novelist, Haruki Murakami. Our time here at the Guest House is quickly drawing to a close, and we shall soon depart from here. This is a farewell that has been a long time coming. The day we chose to sign up for the Jasiri program, however long ago, we all set the ball rolling for this particular moment of saying goodbye.

It is a bitter-sweet farewell. ?Many here have formed such tight bonds, yet, they must now be separated for ventures to be created. Growth is pain. And so, I say: As we head out to create our respective ventures, in often stormy market environments that may blow us in different unexpected directions, may the fond memories of the times we have had here endure across time and space.?

I go out with fond memories of the immensely supportive staff. Aneth, Rita, Joe, and all those in the background, who made everything possible. And those with us here, like Ejide, who drove us with care and whose superb Swahili is a joy to listen to. And Marie Solange, who kept our rooms clean and taught me the mechanics of Kinyarwanda. And Olivier who - when not at the football pitch breaking Harrison’s, or Augustine’s, or Betty’s, or Dan’s or everyone’s legs - was with Didas making us amazing meals that will be so dearly missed.

I also head out with an appreciation of the kindness that I received here, from you, my fellow fellows. From GERARD N. , who helped Betty and I disentangle the string puzzle on the very first day here. Natty, the bald one, who always fed me with new information on all manner of topics – and invited me to all manner of injera eating sessions. And you KAYIHURA David , my next-door neighbor, who made sure I woke up early and got to work by launching into songs at 3:15 AM!

And from you Loza Admassu , one half of the HeLo Girls, for travelling all the way from Addis carying me a whole bag of tena adam. It spiced up my tea and coffee, bringing me joy, as were the endless supplies of dabo kollos Sltanu Kifile always seemed to extract from a bottomless bag. Thank you Hawa Waore , foor helping my colleagues and I at Baobab Superfoods do the numbers, just a few days ago.

And Maggie Muriithi for your words, such as those which you and Sifen Hailu wrote at the pressure cooker's glass board: "Finding is for those that search, not for those that hope, wish, complain." During that period where I was solo-adventuring at the pressure cooker seated opposite you, I often found myself reading those words, and checking out your latest, fancy, happy socks!

Obviously, I cannot speak without mentioning you Bonaventure Mihigo , Bona, the man with the plan! Without you, speaking for myself and undoubtedly many here who’ve enjoyed your joy for life, this experience wouldn’t have been as fun as it has been. Nor Dawit, who always found ways to make us smile even during the hardest of times, including those tumultuous days at our still-born venture, Elimu Nation.

I cannot forget you, Daniel Maganjo , for your endless wisdom, patience, and support. And you Darren, for the banters and breathless laughter. Tam, Tamirat Worku Lemma , where are you? Thanks for leading me to the philosophies of Zara Yacob and the awesome, timeless music of Aster Awake! So many tales to tell, Robel Tedla - including that you told me of the mysterious Baobab Tree in Keren, Eritrea, yet so little time.

You, Konjo Boys, come here! I start with you, Christian Teshome , for I have beef with you! One day I’ll have my revenge in the game of chess, and perhaps it will be at shores of Lake Awassa, that beautiful homeland your words took me to.? Solomon Desalegn , thanks for the eye-opening literary conversations, many of which are uncompleted. And the terre siga, teaching me how to cut it, on that Easter Sunday when Sifen and Sara Usman - whose brilliance glows like a halo around her glorious hair - made such delicious meals. ?

Speaking of food, thank you Jessica Nkubito , for taking me on a journey to the Congolese foods of your childhood, during those sunny days of laughter and Rhumba, and for always sharing a warm smile and a kind word. I see you, Nduku we - Diana Mulinge , for always being such a good sport whenever the beat drops!

Thank you Adonay, for the stories, the deliberations on rap music alongside Augustine Kiago , and for your generosity. May the priests, the often-apprehensive men of God, no longer stare at you and say: “Hey! For God’s sake, man, who gave you the right to bear such a name?”

Finally, Irakoze. Murakoze, for being the first person to narrate to me the story of your name, that night when Natty stood here and failed terribly at reciting our names, just the other day. Also thank you sharing the culture, helping me dress up in this mushanana.

She’s done such a great job, hasn’t she?

?

As I close, Sltanu Kifile , kindly put on your priestly shawl. It has been a source of blessing for many throughout this experience, since that day long ago when Helen Gizachew hosted a coffee ceremony at the lounge. Grab that Book of Psalms, a true heirloom, that's passed through many ancestral hands into your possession. And when you pray tonight, as Devis Musiu likes to say, Sltanu, pray for the millets!

Pray for all the ventures here. May their journeys be successful. Once these farewells are done, you all know, we shall be as flowers scattered into the storms of the market environment. May these storms we will inevitably experience during venture creation period not break us but instead, lead us towards places of growth.

May those storms act as the winds which carry the efuye gela, those sensitive dandellions that Nathnael Moges likes to talk about, across a thousand hills and valleys. And lead them into fertile soils where the seeds hidden beneath soft petals scatter and form new flowers, addis ababas, that satisfy societal needs. Ladies and gentlemen, as I bid you farewell, I pray that when those winds blow your flowers to those places of growth, may your ventures thrive! ???

?