Wednesday, 6 February 2013

A day and a half - By Bethan


Today has been a day and a half already and it is only 1:10pm.  Incidentally, we are supposed to be having a development committee meeting at our house, with lunch (goat pilau cooked by Gareth) at 1pm, but that is another issue.  I have had to break out the UK dairy milk (gold dust) and the strongest beverage I have in my reach: earl grey tea.  Now you know how serious it is.

I can’t even begin to explain the complexities of starting the café business, but let me give you the highlights.

I went, together with a random and differing assortment of the six co-operative ladies (it seems frustratingly IMPOSSIBLE to get all six together at one time for anything, no matter how important the issue to be discussed), to a place we want to rent, that I heard about when I was on my walkabout looking for the brass band a few weeks ago.  We have decided to rent it but the landlord has been saying we need to pay 15 months rent up front.  This is 3 million shillings (£750) which is not money they have just lying around, considering that they are still awaiting to get their loan.  The savings co-operative place said that we should have a property before we apply for the loan (thus begins the chicken and egg phenomenom)  since they don’t do ‘start-up’ loans (since when?  He has known all along that we are looking for this type of loan!).  So since the ladies don’t have 3 million they paid the 2 million that we had (from donations) and asked the landlord to bear with them for the extra 1 million.  We told him the loan would be with us in a week, which is what the bank had led us to believe.  Now.  I handed in the business plan (that I had had many sleepless nights and working evenings struggling to complete with one or two ladies turning up here and there to do it with me) and asked if there was an application form to go with it to apply for the money.  “No.” I was told.  The next day, Gareth went to the bank to ask how the application was getting on.  Speaking with someone else, he was told that yes there was a form and that we should fill it in then they would look at it for two weeks then decide on whether we have the loan or not.  Uh-oh.  Since we already rented the place and are counting on the loan (the bank clerk we had been dealing with informed us that it is highly likely that we would get the loan and we should rent a place first…) now we have a dead line of 10 days to pay the extra 1 million (£250) and are not sure when the loan is coming!

I rallied the ladies, pleading that each should come asap to sign this form and hand it in otherwise we will default on the rental agreement and the place will be empty, effectively wasting money until the loan comes through.  One woman turned up.  My heart sank and I got on the phone to the others.  Now at this point I must admit that I had lost my cool and started getting a bit annoyed.  One had gone ‘to the village’ (they never say which one so it could be one mile away or several!), one had decided to stay home and cook lunch.  One had malaria, one is pregnant (so therefore, by local culture, is ‘weak’ and is excused any responsibility, as I was when I was pregnant here!) and one was at work as a teacher (fair enough).  So the poor one who did turn up filled in the form under Gareth’s supervision and suffered our bad moods with us.  I also admit that I burst into tears of frustration at one point, feeling the weight of the whole thing on me, feeling very alone and wondering if I should just get on a plane and come home.  The one that did turn up promised to rally the others, take the form to the local councillors to sign (that could take a week in itself!) and then hand it in personally to the bank clerk we have been dealing with.  God help her with that process.

So now it is 1.30pm and we are still waiting for the people to come for the meeting.  The goat pilau is drying out and our stomachs are gurgling with hunger.  The boys, thankfully, are asleep (together in Sam’s bed – so cute!) and we have just had a letter from a friend asking us to give him money for his sick children, of which he has eight and no way of supporting them.

AND BREATH……………………………………………………………………………

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