Lunch, Lies & Unpaid Invoices

About a year and a half ago, an old acquaintance of ours enrolled her child in the same kindergarten my kids were in. As expected, we were happy to see each other after so long! We said our hellos and chatted a bit: she was now working, married, and had two kids (hence why we were meeting at a kindergarten??) After our usual Kenyan pleasantries, we exchanged numbers and promised to catch up.

A couple of days later, she called me up and asked for a favor...

“My husband and his family run a dairy business and they’re looking to expand into a new space – but they need some help understanding the space and customers more. Can I give him your number?”

Of-Course I said yes and in just a few days, her husband and I were seated in Pallet Café, having coffee and chatting on the intricacies and wonders of Dairy farming and cattle insemination (an industry which (by-the-way) is currently worth 1.6B KES). His father had run the business for years, and as the son, he was now taking over the helm of the organization. He had some ideas on how the business could inject new growth – but he was also cautious about making the wrong decision. After all, part of the challenge of taking over your father's company is proving to your father that you can do it - which is why he needed help. He was looking for someone - an individual or a company that could conduct some quantitative and qualitative industry and customer research. He was looking for research that could help him better understand what innovations and opportunities existed in the dairy space, the potential market size, competitor landscape, and risk. Because I am not a researcher, I did the only thing that could be done; I referred him to a research company started by three of my peers - researchers I respected who loved the craft.

I trusted them. I trusted him, And so, like any good person, I connected the two of them.

About six months later, an agreement was reached, and the research work began??. This story would have ended in 'happily ever after' if it hadn’t been for one crucial little detail that I forgot to notice at the start.

The father of this man that I was seated across from at Pallet Café, was a former Kenyan politician. In other words, this was a politically-aligned family business.

You see, most Kenyan politicians and their families have a reputation for not paying for services rendered. The saying goes that if a politician from Kenya gives you work, then double the rate and ask for 50% upfront??. If I had known this front the start, would I still have referred them to my friends? Maybe. But with a strong caveat for them to be careful? Even then, I rationalized for myself why this time, it would be different... he must be different

? Surely. His kids go to the same school as mine. He’s not like some of those other politicians

? Surely. He knows not paying would mean having to see me almost daily and dealing with the shame of being a con. He wouldn’t risk that.

? Surely. He himself is a business owner, and an entrepreneur, he knows the importance of commitments and cashflow to survive. He can’t be dodgy.

Friends. He is, He did and He was.

The research job required a 50% upfront payment, which was paid but without the tax. But the balance 50% never came. And given that KRA requires a business to pay tax on the invoiced amount and not the paid amount, they had to dig into their savings to clear that. Finally, when the team questioned why the 50% downpayment had been minus the tax, he told them that he never pays taxes. And neither do any of the suppliers he deals with.

I was livid.

But I was also ashamed.

I felt ashamed for connecting the two and for being emotionally conned myslef (where fradulent trust was built), Instead of the thief/ con artist/ liar feeling the shame, it’s the victims, the vulnerable that feel ashamed for having been that vulnerable to begin with.

About two months ago, they launched its new product: cheese. I felt like they were mocking me. I love cheese. I love Kenyan cheese. But because I hold economic grudges, I can’t bring myself to buy/support them. (but this economy… I don’t know if I will be strong enough the day they are 25% cheaper than anyone else!!)

I still see them in school. Everyday. They still drop their kids and say hi. I confronted the man a few weeks back. I asked him why he hadn’t paid the research company yet. His reason is not worth the effort it will require to type. So I won’t. And while I knew confronting him was most likely a lost cause, I hoped it would be a lifeline, a last chance for him to feel some shame, take it off my back, and carry it on his, enough for him to do what is right. It didn’t. And so here I am, making a feeble attempt to write some of the shame away…

To all the people, businesses, and ideas that have been conned and crushed by our political class and their families… tukutane nyuma ya tent please.