South Africa is one of the most entrepreneurial domains I know of. The reason is simple: No income means skinny kids. So when there are not enough jobs to go around, we have to make our own.
Contrast this with the UK where, no matter how bad things get, people believe the government will bail them out. Social benefits can be so tempting that they put people off the risks of working for themselves or owning a business (A business owner is often someone who was once self employed, but then got busy enough to need help.)
So what?
Well, it seems to me that we are being a little harsh on ourselves. A lot of us are finding that business is tough. Many of us have to close the doors.
There is nothing uncommon with it. The economy is seasonal. And right now the cycle is in Winter. This is not that relaxed bikini style Winter that people in Durban love. Rather it’s the much harsher version that people in Trondheim swear at before having another sip of potato moonshine as the sun goes down 34 minutes after sunrise. (or so I am told.)
What is wrong is that we are confusing our emotions. Closing a business is very stressful. But it is also a time of graduation. That first summons should go up on your power wall, alongside that BCom diploma or Matric certificate. It’s a rite of passage. (And just as painful as having sensitive bits of your manhood severed in the more traditional rites.)
This was the vehicle carrying all your dreams. And the emotions that closure evokes are very strong. It’s not just the closure of the business. It’s the loss of our income stream. At night we extrapolate that into the loss of our homes, our cars, and for many men — our wives.
In fact, the most important thing that we lose has nothing to do with money.** We lose our direction**. The dream that we have built all of our hopes into has crashed. The long and winding road leading gently to a balcony in Mauritius has come to an end. At first a few potholes, then rickety bridge, and now we’re buried in a tunnel after an earthquake.
At times like these we don’t want balmy beaches any more, we just want to see some light. It’s lonely, and we’re frightened.
In the middle of all of this we forget something. The rules of our economy — the South African economy — force us to stand up for ourselves. Those rules let us start a business easily. But many of us are not ready for it. We don’t have the right skills. We don’t have the right knowledge. And we’re not prepared for the fallout.
Going through business closure is like cramming for the Matric finals. We learn fast. It’s not pleasant. But the learning will stay with us forever.
Over the 17 years that I have been consulting with small business owners I have seen thousands come, and go, and come again. Those of us who do it a second or third) time, do it better than the first. That’s life after experience.
They can take away almost everything – the house, the car, and even the pedigree French Bulldog. But they can’t take away the most valuable thing you have: the knowledge and experience you now have in the art of entrepreneurship.
It may feel as if the sun is hiding behind Uranus while a cold Scandinavian breeze ruffles your hair. And you may feel a failure, but you are my hero.