Turning Lemons into Lemonade: Empowering Developing Countries to Succeed
Taking risks has always been part of my psychological makeup. It’s not because I’m brave. On the contrary. It’s because I have a lot of fear.
It Started with a Pig
I must have been about twelve. I was living in Manila and was fortunate enough to have a godfather who made a habit of dropping by our house unannounced around Christmas, just so he could hand me a hundred peso bill. It always made me very happy. It was a princely sum back then, especially for a kid with a tiny allowance. My only other source of extra income was getting paid one centavo (like today’s penny) for every strand of white hair I carefully plucked from my mother’s head. It was win-win. Vanity aside, my mother felt like she was getting a head massage. I made some money.
My sister, six years older, knew someone who knew someone who was a pig farmer. My sister is very persuasive. She convinced me to use the money to buy a piglet. I remember being hesitant at first but I understood the simple concept: Buy baby Bessie, Bessie grows and grows, sell Bessie, I get lots of money. “Are you sure?” I would ask many times over. In the end, I couldn’t resist. Maybe it was greed, but I handed over the money.
Isn’t that contradictory, you ask, taking risks when I’m so afraid? Yes, absolutely. But in the face of having to choose, I seem to have opted for the whole kit and kaboodle instead of playing it safe. That has been my approach to investing, and in starting a business as well.
Bye, Bye, Bessie
Well, I never saw the money again. In fact, I forgot about Bessie. In the intervening years, our family emigrated to Canada except for that one sister who opted to stay behind. Some 30 years later, I remembered to ask whatever happened, and my sister said the pig farmer had disappeared. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that risk and blown the money on ice cream instead, something a 12-year-old would surely enjoy. Or invested it in some other savings vehicle. But I didn’t.
I Blew the Wad
The spiritual author, Wayne Dyer has said, “Don’t die with your music still in you.” I’ve often wondered what my music is. I definitely have the entrepreneurial spirit, and in talking through my earlier dabblings, whether ultimately realized or not, others would invariably comment on my excitement and energy.
Bella & Fella Children’s Bedding is not my first business venture, and it won’t be my last. I’ve made a lot of lemons, to be sure, and maybe I’m still making them. So why do I do this? I have no answer. I just do. Maybe fear motivates me, and I like to learn. Besides, one day, I know I’ll be making lemonade.
Sharing the Dream
This past weekend, I paid homage to this spirit, and to entrepreneurs from whence I came: other developing countries. Through Kiva.org, I was able to provide micro loans—investments in human capital—to Rouguiyata in Senegal for her sidewalk retail business, to Sophea Sem’s group in Cambodia reselling fruits and vegetables, and to a couple more.
It’s amazing how much a little can do to empower others. They are the true brave entrepreneurs. If their businesses fail, they have no safety net—no food stamps, no health fairs, no social security—yet they forge ahead with modest dreams of a better life. I’d like to think the pig farmer enjoyed one helluva pig roast, lechon, complete with an apple in its mouth to celebrate the success of his pig farm. Now, thanks to organizations like Kiva, Grameen Bank and World Vision, many other small businesses can have access to capital so they, too, can dare to dream and together, we can make some lemonade.
External links
electronic chess
Seven Billion Dollar Networking University
Pete’s Rhythm Clocks for Sale
tattoos of stars
shepherds pie recipe