MaraMoja Transport

If I had made this post two months ago when I first pounded it out as if my keyboard had something to do with our predicament, it would have been a frustration and exhaustion-fueled rant of the challenges and woes of a bootstrapped startup with no money. It would have made reference to lack of funds (even for a wall map), excess of ramen, power cuts, power outages, internet outages, courage outages, motorcycle outages, slow and painful bureaucracies, and likely many other types of outage and deficiency. It would have talked about learning bit by bit that we weren't the only horse in this race, and the sheer enormity of our competition. 

What it would have missed though would have been what makes us strong. So what makes us strong? Our strength comes from the belief in our model as a better way to do a “taxi app.” We certainly can’t claim to have pioneered the field but to my knowledge we are the only firm yet seeking to achieve social impact through such a model. We believe that the benefits of empowering drivers and investing in public safety far outweigh the costs of these initiatives and ultimately drive greater value creation for MaraMoja. Our strength comes from our network of friends. Despite my relatively short tenure in Nairobi, we’ve been able to attract an unbelievable network of friends that have supported us. Let me call out specifically the good people of Upande without whom we’d probably still be trying to draw lines on a map, the good people of Mambo Software who came to our rescue when a bit of javascript seemed ready to derail us, and Kiringai Kamau of Willpower and VACID Africa and Barbara Steenstrupp, without whom I probably would have run home with my tail between my legs months ago. 

We are in a better place now. We have secured commitments for more than 75% of the upfront funding we need and have solid leads for our subsequent round of fund raising in April. This experience has been a roller coaster ride of epic proportions already and each day brings new highs, new lows, and often both in the same day. The peaks provide momentum to push us through the valleys though. We have persevered and with some very late nights, a few key introductions, and a lot of hustling have gotten to where we currently stand, ready to launch in the coming days. That said, in the intervening time, two competitors - one from South Africa and one homegrown Kenyan firm - have put products on the market here in beta. The lessons learned from their launches have guided our own as we try our damnedest to not repeat their mistakes which have rendered their services next to impossible to use. We distinguish ourselves from them by our dedication to solving the actual problems that people face in transportation in Nairobi, rather than a premature launched shell of a solution designed only to make a quick buck.

Let me also confirm for those that were wondering, we do now have a wall map (two in fact) and even a white board! In fact we even have a team! My business partner Stephen recruited two additional developers, Bikundo and Karanja, who have been diligently working on the idea that when we succeed, our success will be shared. We have also recently imported a highly qualified designer @worduuup that brings a lot more than beautiful designs into my life. Her arrival may have been the most critical turning point on our road so far.

If I’m not mistaken, our first glimpse of the summit of this mountain is but days away. We WILL crest this steep section that we’re currently on no matter how much we slide back on any given day. The momentum we’ve built at this point cannot be stopped by even the steepest grade.

Biks through the glass (disregard the laundry) 

Co-Founder Stephen unlocking the secrets of the universe one line of PHP at a time - no PHP is not a drug. 

Jason can't understand why he's drawn the same thing 10 times...

Sometimes entrepreneuring requires the fanciest pants we have to hobnob with the captains of industry.

On Mountains

Tonight was going to be a post I mostly wrote last week on the status of my start-up but instead I really want to do something different. If you’ll indulge me a paragraph or two, I want to develop a climbing analogy that I’ve been thinking quite a lot about. There’s a line from a Khalil Gibran passage On Friendship that goes like this:

That which you love most in your friend may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber, is clearer from the plain. 

It’s this concept of distance and perspective that is important here, rather than the bit about friendship. From a distance, you can indeed see the entirety of a mountain if no pesky clouds move in to hide the summit as often happens to the most alluring peaks. As you move closer, the scale of the mountain takes over and the peak disappears entirely behind the mass of rock and earth that support it. What could fit between your thumb and forefinger a day ago now looms over and around you as if it goes on, and up, forever. As you begin to climb, you can only trust that the summit is there somewhere waiting for you but you’ll not get a chance to see it again for some time. So you just climb. Your lungs burn as the air thins, but you climb on. Your legs tire, your back develops knots and your hips bruises from the weight of the pack you carry. But you climb on, propelled by the memory of and anticipation for the summit. Your anticipation betrays you though. As you trudge up the steepest, meanest sections, the ones that spray loose scree tumbling from underfoot, you become sure that when you crest the slope, the image you’ve been dreaming of will be there. It isn’t. You’ve surely underestimated the immensity of the mountain though and your first view of the peak still lay days, miles, and meters away. The anticipation builds, as do the aches, bruises, and lactic acid you carry.

On the Nth day, you crest the steep section and this time she’s there. To me, this is the singular best moment in a climb. You see your goal for the first time since you first set out. It’s magnificent. You spin around and admire for an instant how far you’ve come - it’s the first time you get a good sense of it. A landmark you remember clearly from your approach drive or hike, now barely visible, only a speck on a landscape that feels like you need two sets of eyes to see properly. This feeling of accomplishment quickly fades as you turn back to eye up once again the task ahead which will undoubtedly be more difficult than anything you’ve yet faced. This brief moment, however, has refueled your tank. The sight of your goal combined with the rear view of your progress dulls the aches and fllls the air you breathe with something better than oxygen, adrenaline. This is what will carry you forward when you no longer feel able to carry yourself. This and the support of your climbing party, whose presence yields you more energy than any food, drink, or drug could. So you climb on. 

We're currently in, if I’m not mistaken, the steep section before the summit view in the climb that is the launch of MaraMoja (the name of our start-up - it means “instantly” or “right away” in Swahili). I think see a summit - it’s beautiful. Let’s hope its not a false peak. 

More on MaraMoja in an upcoming post (honestly, it won't take two months this time).

angel of beer

First sight

lonely at the top?

Batian at sunrise

heavenly bodies

Pt. Lenana

Karibu Kenya

Karibu...While perhaps a bit cliche to name an initial blog post (for kiswahili speakers at least), I say it to you the way it has been said to me everywhere I go in Kenya, welcoming me. Five months into my time in Nairobi, Kenya's people have welcomed me into their homes, farms, offices, communities, teams, friendships, partnerships, and mentorships. All sorts of people.  They've welcomed me to seats, rides, beer, a half a charcoal roasted goat, oh! and tea. Yes tea. Lots of it. Tea the way America drinks coffee. Made with half water - half whole milk (or goat milk, or camel milk, or whatever mammal you can get your hands on),  Kenya's homegrown world-class tea leaves, and of course a couple healthy spoonfuls of sugar. It's rich and a bit thick but it subtly grows on you. It's warming effect cannot be underestimated. On a chilly morning in Kenya's rolling green highlands. On a damn cold night atop Mt. Kenya. After getting caught in a torrential downpour while on a pikipiki (motorcycle). It's offered to visitors almost as a matter of responsibility. The idea that you've traveled some distance to see me, you must at least be thirsty. And if this innocuous act of visitation seems unworthy of obliging the host to provide hot chai, you're not thinking about the challenges and hazards of traveling.

Sasa (Now) that you've had some tea, let's talk a second about this idea of traveling. It's the namesake of this blog and seemingly a central theme in my life at the moment. Yes I have traveled a long distance to live in Nairobi and have taken some recent trips but it goes beyond this. "Oh you mean the zen thing, like how we're all traveling our own road...?" Well sure that too. But I really meant that travel is at the heart of the enterprise I came here to start and thus is always on my mind. The unmissable opportunity that pried me from a very comfortable and satisfying existence to one that would require significantly more hustling and a much higher degree of risk. But we'll get to that in an upcoming post. For posterity, let me say that the name of the blog comes from a quote I saw posted on facebook that struck a chord in me very early into my time in my adopted home.

As a newcomer around these parts, I nearly constantly find myself on roads I've never before traveled. Some gnarly, mangled roads. Roads that spit out inexperienced drivers and plush, leather-trimmed SUVs like sunflower seeds. Roads  that come with often serious consequences. In fact, let's not use the word "travel" - the word is journey (safari in kiswahili). Travel implies far too much certainty that you'll arrive at your destination and the time spent doing so will be straightforward and uneventful. Journey suits our purposes better - it brings the right elements of uncertainty that accept diversions and delays for unfathomable traffic, vehicle-swallowing potholes, roads rendered impassable by treacherous weather, mechanical difficulties of all sorts, and many other pitfalls as commonplace.

We would do well though to extend our definition of roads and journeys though to include the figurative. The simple tasks that become insurmountable obstacles for reasons that would make a cynic of even our Yes We Can President, or our cousin from Kogelo as he's often known here. Or for no reason at all.  Or because it's just the rule, to be followed above all else. These journeys make up the majority of day-to-day life - an expatriate's inheritance.

This blog will be a record of some of the journeys I undertake - as an entrepreneur, a consultant, an expatriate, an outdoorsman, and a human. I will try to focus on both the pitfalls that have/will ensnare me as well as those that I have/will manage to avoid. We'll meet a lot of Kenya's characters along the way, I only hope I to do them justice. 

Credit for most of the (good) photos goes to http://worduuup.com/ as well as Benson Njorge for the wildlife shots.