When I was young, I did not know that my family was poor. I mean we slept on a bed, could eat dinner on kitchen tables while other kids in the neighborhood slept on the floor and ate dinners sitting on floor plastered and decorated with cow dung. Our mothers back in the village knew how to make good use of cow dung. I'm sure some kids would compete on whose mother makes the best designs of floor and wall decorations using cow dung.
But later in the years, reality kicked in. My dad was retrenched, started a small businesses which died out within three years. When we opened our eyes there was no money coming into the house. When I was 15, he passed on. I had seen the man hustle all his life to make sure he spends time with us and that we looked and ate good. Going to school without such good provision was going to be tough.
My mom open a small shop few months after dad passed on. And to assist, I had to sell some to the products at school. So I became an entrepreneur after after my mom's bravery, out of necessity. I did not chose business. It chose me.
Forced into busness
The last three to four years of high school was very interesting for me. I became an entrepreneur by force. I was forced to find means of survival out of necessity. I either had to sell or beg. I'm sure some of you know how this feels. There are people who chose to become entrepreneurs because they have a skill or product that can be marchandised. And then there are those who put of trouble, frustration and tiredness from going door to door asking for handouts, end up selling to those doors. I was tired of lacking and going to school without pocket money. I was tired of eating bread and Achar or pap and Achar at school. Other kids could buy meat and juice here and there, and I wanted to be in the "class". So I became an entrepreneur. Which turned out really well. When other kids had R2, and R5 for pocket money, I had R10, sometimes R20 taken from my daily profits to squander like the prodigal son as I wished.
It's either I had to be an entrepreneur or a beggar. So I chose the first one. My mom helped me with the first stock of lollipops, smoothies and candies. Those were easy to sell as they would exchange hands with money under the table in the class room while the teacher was busy, especially during those subjects that I did not like such as Geography and Agricaultural sciences.
Business expansion
Realizing that those small items don't make much profit, I added peanuts and boiled eggs to my stock. So I had to take with me a big box of mixed items to school every day. The school is about 2.5 KM from home, and I had to walk with my hand made school bag and the "mobile spaza shop". I sold +/-30 eggs a day, few packs of peanuts and one pack of each of the three types of sweets I carried to school. I think that time I could make a profit of R30 sometimes R40 a day. Then after school I had to pass via the Indian Shop to stock up on sweets. Mama bought the eggs for me from her local suppliers and prepared them for me every morning.
Begging stopped at once before it got me a name I did not want to asssiciate with. I became the supplier of the most needed items by both students and teachers. Kids needed sweets, teachers loved the boiled eggs and dry pan fried peanuts (mama's traditional recipe). It worked like a charm.
Trouble with the principal
Every business environment has its legal frameworks that decide who sells what, to whom, when and how. I was in a high school environment and had to register as a vendor. I did not. I refused to pay the school my hard earned money to sell small items. It was not a smart move though, because it threatened business shut down at the time when business was enjoying good success, if you know what I mean. But the principal let me go unpunished with one instruction: don't sell during and in the classes. Well, I'm sure you want to know if I stopped or not, I did not. I pressed on.
As the business grew, it meant egg shells had to increase in the school yard and in the class room floor. My school did not have a class that taught morals, values, cleanliness, respect, and all the good values a child should have learned at home. So all the kids that bought sweets and eggs threw the left overs, papers and egg shells on the floor where ever they opened and ate them. Sometimes a teacher would be walking around the class and would be disgusted by scattered sweet wraps and egg shells on the floor making irritating, dumping site sounds under his feet. I didn't care. I made money.
When they called me for questioning about the impact of my business on the schools environment, I rebelled. I told them it was not my responsibility to tell people where to throw
"Rubish" after eating. The learners made a mess because of what I sold. I was part to blame because I sold during lessons. In my small little kiddy mind, I was not to blame in anyway. I guess that arrogance helped me, even though it could have gotten me into trouble, it halped my business survive. I had to make it work or I was going to be a better.
Conclusion for now
To cut the story short: I made money to enough to give my younger brother and I pocket money. And I could once in a while buy a loaf of bread at home, I could afford to pay for church conference registrations at church by myself. Once I bought myself shoes and it felt good
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