I am already considering starting a rival Sacco that will embody structure, discipline, and vision, that will protect members’ savings and grow their investments.
When we parted ways here two weeks ago, I was in the middle of fierce campaigns to become Chairman of our SACCO, armed with a comprehensive 10-point agenda to make Siku Zijazo Sacco great again—something successive chairmen had miserably failed to do. Their only success, if we are being honest, was making their stomachs big again!
I was so engrossed in the elections that I did not have time to write my reflections last week. I am sorry for that. I was busy drafting my victory speech—carefully capturing the moment, preparing to assure Sacco members that the future was bright and that the worst was firmly behind us.
At the same time, I was coordinating my victory party. I was not just confident—I was structurally assured of victory. I had done a proper assessment of the environment and even conducted opinion polls. Now, the people who carried out these opinion polls were boda boda riders.
For the last few weeks, I had abandoned my motorcycle, instead using one boda boda rider to ferry me around—and, more importantly, to feed me intelligence on what “the ground” was saying. According to him, the ground was not just speaking—it was singing my name. While my competition—the current chairman—was busy throwing money, goodies, and other suspicious incentives around, I was offering love, facts, and the future. Mwisho wa Lami people are not fools, and Sacco members especially understand this is their investment, their savings. Surely, they would not sell it for a piece of silver.
Or so I thought.
If Juma and Kuya thought I was a pushover, they should prepare for a serious challenge from me.
Last Saturday was AGM day, a bright and sunny day—a clear sign, in my view, of good things to come.
That morning, a few members came to my home for breakfast, led by Saphire, the strategic head of my campaign command centre. The night before, they had been at Kasuku Restaurant… and later at Hitler’s. They still smelled like those visits, but when you are campaigning for an important seat, you accept all manner of people. The venue was Mwisho wa Lami Primary School, and I arrived to great applause.
Wan Tam
Shouts of “Wan Tam! Wan Tam!” filled the air—a clear indication that I was the man of the moment. The current chairman would only serve one term. I, on the other hand, was clearly destined for a tenure long enough to rival Atwoli. I joined the board in front and listened pensively as the chairman went through everything—the minutes, the successes, the financial statements, which he himself clearly did not understand. I could not wait for next year when I will guide members through better reports. But I told myself to relax. My time was coming.
Then came the elections.
A government Sacco official—whom I now strongly suspect may not have been entirely government-guided—guided the process. He explained the positions, the voting process… and that is when I started smelling a rat. I cannot explain it fully, but something felt off. And, as it turns out, my instincts were correct.
By the end of the day, I had not only lost the chairmanship, but in a surprise move, a motion was raised to remove me from the board entirely. Yes. Entirely. And it passed.
As all this was happening, Saphire and his team—who had gone back to Hitler’s that morning—were nowhere to be seen. There was no one to mobilise support. No one to shout. No one looked surprised. And just like that—I was out. Shouts of “Half Tam!” filled the air, directed at me, for I had not even completed a full term as a board member. I went home that day tired and dejected. But not confused.
Cup of tea
Over the past few days, I have carefully analysed why I lost—and why Siku Zijazo Sacco is now headed for the doldrums without me. First of all—the weather. The day started sunny, yes, but by 8am, clouds had gathered from nowhere, and it began to rain. With Saphire and his team at Hitler’s, I could only watch as my opponent quickly organised umbrellas for voters and even arranged a cup of tea for his supporters.
A few months after joining, I was elected unopposed to chair the ICT committee.
Second—bribery. Beyond umbrellas, I later learnt that my competitor was giving people money. While I focused on teachers, he focused on boda boda riders—the true majority. He allegedly promised them that if he won, he would compensate them for the income they lost that day attending the AGM. I had promised them a bright future.
He did stop there; he even bought drinks for Saphire and my entire campaign team, such that they couldn’t even show up at the AGM. Can you imagine!
Third—my fellow board members. As the only ICT-savvy board member, I had recently begun pushing for systems—technology to reduce fraud, track loans, and improve efficiency. There had been allegations of loans issued off-system, and others given to people who did not qualify. I had even identified an ICT expert ready to sell us software to fix all this. To be honest, I did not fully understand what the software did, but I knew it sounded dangerous—to the right people. The day I presented this idea, the boardroom went silent. That, I now realise, was the exact moment I lost the election. That evening, at Kasuku Bar and Restaurant, the CEO told me, very calmly, that one should never “cut the hand that feeds them.”
At the time, I did not understand. Now, I do.
Fourth—family envy. My blood sister Caro —who happens to be Mwisho wa Lami’s former Minister for Misinformation, Miscommunication, and Broadcasting Lies—decided to involve herself. When she heard I was running, she came asking for “facilitation.” Since she is not even a Sacco member, I refused. Big mistake. She launched a full-scale character assassination campaign, telling people that a man who cannot manage his own household cannot manage a Sacco. By the time I found out, the damage had already been done.
On firewall and firewalling, we need to protect members’ money from any possible fires.
So, will I sulk? No. Will I be bitter? Also no. But let me be clear—this Sacco will be poorer without me. Not immediately. No. But in Siku Zijazo. Leadership is not tested on election day; it is tested afterwards.
As for me, I will soldier on. I am already considering starting a rival Sacco that will embody structure, discipline, and vision, that will protect members’ savings and grow their investments. It will be called Linda Akiba Sacco.
But first, I must deal with a small issue. You see, I recently received a loan of Sh73,000 from the Sacco to facilitate my campaigns. I had been assured it was “off-system”, which means I would not be expected to pay back. I have now received a letter asking me to submit a repayment plan. Clearly, Siku Zijazo Sacco does not have a software problem. It has a humanware problem.
And trust me. That problem will only get worse without me. Members are welcome to join Linda Akiba Sacco!
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