Saturday, October 24th 2009
I woke up, ahem, feeling sluggish after the concert the night before. I walked into my house got a bottle of water and walked back to the “men’s quarters” (they’re behind the house) and my cell phone was ringing. It was Martin, the Ugandan Advisory board member I’d met the prior Saturday. He was the one that put himself through college working a variety of odd jobs – one of which involved hauling sand from Lake Victoria to Jinja during the night.
I picked up the phone.
“Hey Martin.”
“Hi Joe – are you available to discuss the funding model.”
Hmm – this was the last thing I wanted to do on my Saturday, but Martin is a very busy man so I figured I needed to meet with him when he had the time.
“Sure.”
“Great. I”ll meet you by the Post Office in Kampala in an hour.”
An hour?! I jumped in the shower and took a boda boda straight into the city.
I waited for a couple minutes for Martin to show. When he did we walked across the street to a buffet restaurant that served traditional Ugandan food.
We sat down and started talking.
Martin is a really fascinating and impressive person. As I’ve written about in the past he’s started with very little and accomplished a lot. In addition to the business items we discussed (which took the majority of our conversation) he also told me more about his life.
- He has 2 brothers and 3 sisters with his mother, but his father has 4 wives and a total of 20 children.
- His father was a driver in Idi Amin’s army – he was captured during the war with Tanzania and was held as a POW for 3 years. After he came back and had nothing but his own two hands. He was able to build a successful business and provide for his entire family.
I also found some interesting things about Martin and his family. Martin told me his brothers were jealous of his success and with (what they thought) was favoritism from his father. So one day, 8 months ago, his brothers and his Aunt colluded to assassinate him. His Aunt lives across from Busiro (the school Martin founded) and told Martin’s brother his exact schedule – where he would be and when, so they could kill him.
One night as Martin was driving home a bullet tore through his windshield nearly killing him. Martin drove away frantically thinking someone was trying to rob him. He escaped the attack, but a few nights later found out his Aunt and brothers had plotted for his demise.
When Martin’s father found out he called a family meeting. He looked at the sons that tried to kill Martin, now sitting in the same room with the brother they tried to kill.
“You must have been fathered while I was a POW in Tanzania.”
He disowned him on the spot. Wow.
Sad that jealousy can compel someone to try and kill their own brother especially someone as kind and caring as Martin. The world is a crazy place.
He also told me more details on founding Busiro. In the beginning, apparently it was supposed to be him and 3 other investors. They were each going to take out a loan for 15,000,000 USH ($7,500) against their salaries. They both reneged and decided they were too scared to borrow. Undeterred Martin thought of ways he could raise the money and continue with the project himself.
Eventually he got his Mom and his cousin to take out $5,000,000 ($2,500) each. After a couple weeks the cousin reneged and Martin assumed his debt payments. After a few more weeks his mother said she couldn’t pay the interest because she needed to pay for Martin’s younger brother’s school fees. Martin assumed all the debt himself. Because it was a salary loan he was now only getting 50% of his salary on a monthly basis.
But Martin needed to borrow more. The school needed a lot of infrastructure and if he didn’t borrow more money all the money he’d already invested would have all been for nothing. So he borrowed again – a couple million more (sorry I don’t remember the exact amount) but now ALL his salary was going to pay the interest on these loans. Fortunately Martin got a per diem of 60,000 USH ($30) for boarding and 10,000 USH ($5) for food since he was a travelling credit officer for Centenary Bank.
For an entire year he lived meagerly, using nothing more than the per diem given to him by Centenary Bank. When he wasn’t travelling for Centenary he lived in a small room in Busiro that wouldn’t lock.
“Weren’t you scared you’re going to get robbed?” People would ask him.
“Who will steal from me?” He’d laugh. “I have nothing!”
He also told me another heart wrenching story about a girl who didn’t have 200,000 USH ($100) to pay school fees. Her parents were dead and she lived with her grandfather.
The grandfather didn’t want to pay for her school fees. One day she came home and her grandfather told her he’d found the man she would marry. The girl was 15. The man was probably double that. The girl insisted she didn’t want to marry the man…all she wanted to do was go to school.
“If you don’t marry the man I selected then you’ll sit at home and do nothing.” The grandfather insisted.
The girl approached Martin and he agreed to give her a scholarship – BUT – it wasn’t a complete scholarship. Martin doesn’t believe in hand outs. He told the girl she could go to school for free, but every holiday she needs to spend 2 weeks picking vegetables and tending the garden that feeds the school.
The girl agreed and she’s in school today.
“How have you done so much in so little time?” I asked.
“it seems daunting” he laughed, “but the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
We finished our meal of Muslim rice, sautéed cabbage and sweet potatoes. I tried to pay but Martin wouldn’t let me.
“Guests don’t pay here.” He reminded me.
We left the restaurant and walked down towards Old Taxi Park. Martin was telling me more about the different tribes that make up Uganda. It’s a very contentious issue here – who has the real power? The head of the colonialist “Uganda” Yoweri Museveni (the current president) or the heads of the various Tribes in Uganda (Kampala is part of the Buganda Kingdom. The King, or Kabaka, is Ronald Mubesa).
“Well, isn’t the Kabaka just the cultural ambassador?” I asked. “Kind of like the Queen of England?”
“Let me ask you what the difference is between the cultural leader and the leader.” Martin said.
I stared at him blankly.
“Nothing. The cultural leader should be the leader of the people.”
Okay – no argument here.
I got into a Matatu and Martin bid me adieu. One thing I forgot to mention about the matatus here – they are all old Japanese taxis and many of them still have Japanese writing on the side. I wonder how long some of them have been in operation – I’d have to imagine its over 15 – 20 years of punishment.
I’m not sure what happened with the traffic, but it took almost an hour and a half to get home. I am not exaggerating when I say we stopped and sat in traffic for an hour straight at one point. Crazy. Patience Joe. Patience.
I hung around the compound for a while and then Maggie, Emily, Angelica, John and I went to Cassia Lounge to celebrate John’s last night in Kampala. He was headed back to Amherst, Massachussets the following day.
Cassia Lounge is perched atop the Buziga “mountain” (for lack of a better term). It has absolutely stunning views of Lake Victoria and Kampala (its slogan is “the best view in Kampala” and I think they’re right). Dinner was great. It was wonderful to hear about John’s experiences and what it was like to travel to Kampala as a 68 year old man that had never been to the developing world. It was a bittersweet night as we were saying goodbye to a friend that had been with us for two weeks – but such is life.
That night we went to a private party hosted by DJ Benny D (Akon / Wyclef’s official DJ). The party was nicely done and it was super surreal – there were famous Kenyan rappers, Ugandan rapper, Blu 3 (the most popular “girl group” in Uganda), famous models, 2 former Miss Ugandans (WOW), and a slew of other really interesting people. The thing I will say about the social elites in Uganda is that they’re nice, regular people. They performed in front of a ROCKING concert the night before where thousands of people were cheering their name – but they were humble and down to earth (for the most part) when they spoke with me. They also laughed and smiled and were self-deprecating. I’ve mentioned it before but there are fewer social tiers here and people mingle with each other and leave each other alone when it warrants. Its refreshing and it makes me wonder why so many artists in NY have to be so snobby!
After DJ Benny D’s party we went to the after party at Club Rouge. It was, as always, a good time. Successful weekend.
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