After a series of scandals involving her children and fire at Windsor Castle, the late Queen Elizabeth described 1992 in a famous speech thus: “1992 is not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it has turned out to be an annus horribilis.”
Personally, part of the year had horrible moments but I have had something I had not seen for more than 20 years: Freedom. I roamed the places of my youth, I indulged my passion for driving, I rediscovered music and I was alone for extended periods. I had no calendar, no appointments, no meetings. I could go for a run any day, any time. It has been fantastic.
I worked on the farm, did a few consultancies and set up a small office. And that’s all the work I did for 12 months. But that is the point of taking a break, to re-centre oneself and recover from a lifetime of stressful labour. The downside is, of course, that it is very expensive in terms of foregone wages. And men tend to be defined by their work and jobs; people find it difficult to (How shall I put it?) place an unemployed man.
Two incidents illustrate this: An official wanted something done and had sent an aide to work out the detail. I had an unpleasant history with the man, a rather tiresome fellow with a portentous manner. In our meeting he pointedly referred to me as “njobless” a couple of times, which I thought was needlessly unkind. And he invented roadblocks, make ridiculous claims and went to the greatest extents—short of reaching across the table and breaking my neck—to discourage the possibility of my taking up the work. I thought how much I’d dislike working with him.
Finally, I gave him what he had come for: I invited him to take his work and give it to someone else, which he happily did. I can’t imagine the kind of report he took back.
The second involved my favourite leaning forward and asking me: “Where are you now?” and I answered: “I’m in my house.” In Kenya, self-employed means ‘njobless’.
A person should have two lives—one in the office and another private—and the two should never mix. This makes for peaceful retirement. Of course, nobody should ever retire or leave work—unless they have been fired—if they are broke; that is a recipe for the most calamitous disaster.
So, what lessons have I learnt in 2023, this most forgettable and unremarkable of idle years?
First, you should never surrender dominion over your life. To be free, you need to acquire good skills, a means to earn a living wherever you go. Before you do anything else in life, create some passive income, have some investment, don’t be overly dependent.
Don’t try to set up a business in a bad economy, such as the one we have. You will invest a lot of money and energy; people will love your ideas or products but they will not buy. If the economy is bad, bid your time until things look up.
I have also discovered, sadly, that Kenyans are crooks. They are always looking for ways of having the better of you. They will take the shirt off your back if it is not stapled to your skin. If you are a consultant, they will take your proposal and give it to some quack to implement and then split the fees. I don’t mind people stealing my ideas, I have enough for all of us, but I hate my time being wasted. I only have 24 hours in a day to do a million things, including dancing to Lingala rhumba.
But it is not just companies that have no respect for intellectual property. I have seen it in embassies, too. Some senior journalists and I worked for an MP (whom I intend to tear to pieces first thing in the new year) on a project that took many months. We gave him an abbreviated product design which he has quietly put in the market without paying us a coin. Rather than write laws to protect knowledge work, he is looking for slave labour.
Lastly, and this is for the benefit of young entrepreneurs, friends and relatives will not help your business. Your network is not your wealth; your wealth is a solid idea or product and a brilliant manner of presenting it. If friends and relatives were that helpful, I’d be flying a Gulfstream already. The best they can do, if they are very nice, is open doors for you to go and sell your idea (if you are not a good salesman, hire one). I have hundreds of (mainly former) friends, many of them influential in various places. But there is only one friend, a real petulant bugger, I can count on not to let me starve.
And I suppose that’s the way it should be. If you don’t enjoy a tough fight, pucker up and kiss your employer’s hand. Don’t go into business.
Happy New Year, friends. Enjoy, celebrate, recharge for a great year and spare a thought for those who have nothing.
Mr Mathiu is a media consultant at Steward-Africa and former Editor-in-Chief of Nation Media Group. [email protected]
