2 August 2008
Kampala — Because of the advancement in technology and cut-throat competition, briefcase businesses are coming up as well as virtual offices.
Timothy Bukumunhe writes that one doesn't need to own a physical office to make money. A mobile phone and or a hotspot will suffice
The Oxford English dictionary describes an office as a "place of work, responsibility and job" amongst many other examples. When people say they are off to the office, the first thing that springs to mind is a desk, computer and filing cabinets. But as long as one has a place of employment and not necessarily a desk job, it can still be classified as an office.
With the information age catching on in Uganda - the advent of hotspots, Internet and communicating with the office by e-mail from whatever location one may be, a good number of people are starting to work from home. Patrick, who works for a company called Venture Com says: "I don't need to go into the office that much if I don't want to. I can work at home in the mornings, access my e-mails by wimax and communicate with the office almost like I was there."
He goes on to add that some people in Europe only go into the office on a 'need-to-go basis'. "Why fight your way through the traffic when you can accomplish everything from your home study?" he asks.
Here in Uganda, while the figures of those opting to work from home are relatively low, what is on the rise are the mobile offices. According to the profession listed on Kaweesa Sentongo's business card, he is a 'businessman' dealing in 'all types of Japanese cars'. Apart from his name, occupation, box number and e-mail address and four telephone numbers on the card (none of which are landline numbers), his physical address is not listed. Although he does not own a bond or a permanent operating location, he says he has a string of 'offices' designed to meet the needs of his customers.
"Competition is tough. Everybody wants to deal in cars or spare parts. Today more people own cars and getting a customer is not easy. A customer working in an air-conditioned office is not going to trek all the way to Ndeeba or to the bond on Jinja Road to look at spare parts or a car. To take care of such clientele, I have offices at Speke Hotel terrace, Slow Boat on Kampala Road and Nalongo's restaurant in Katwe.
His phone rings, interrupting our conversation. Once he is done with the call, he asks me to wait at a distant table. "I have a client coming to see me and I need to make a sale." Five minutes later, a smartly dressed young lady in the company of two men walk in and join him.
When they leave, Sentongo looks happier. "She will take it. I wanted sh7.5m, but they only had sh6m. They will pay the rest in installments." Manafa Masai, the public relations officer at Federation of Ugandan Employers (FUE), attributes the working-out-of office phenomenon that is widespread today to the cost of renting office space.
"The people who work out of the office are usually traders. As long as they can find somewhere convenient to have a meeting for 10 minutes, they will go with that. But the downside of not having an office can lead to a loss of business. People want to deal with a businessman who has a physical address, a landline and the relevant operating documents from say URA." He is happy to announce that all members of FUE are established businessmen with a physical address.
Down the road at Slow Boat, it is barely 10:00am and finding a table is out of the question. Everybody who walks in has one thing in common - a briefcase of a mass of papers. On one table, four ladies are demanding to see the rest of the paper work.
"We have seen the land but papers are missing. We are ready to buy, but not until we are happy," one of them tells the broker. Frustrated, he makes a call, but judging by the way they shake their heads, the ladies are not convinced. Further in, a group of nuns are bent over a fundraiser budget. While the nuns deliberate, huddled in one corner is a group of eight men and women. They too are busy poring over endless reams of paper.
At Jubilee Insurance Centre, a well-dressed gentleman takes up a seat in a corner. Like all other mobile office owners, he has a huge pile of paperwork. He asks for a Coke as he reads through the newspapers and occasionally makes phone calls.
Midway though his Coke, he is joined by a young man. They go through some papers, after which the elder man writes out a cheque and hands it over. The young man leaves. With the waitress hovering over him, he is compelled to buy another Coke.
In the next two hours, he receives a good number of visitors and whatever business it is that he has with them involves money and signing some documents.
Seeking an interview with him is not forthcoming. The following day when I pass by, he is still there and a quick discreet word with the waitress that involves greasing her palms with sh5,000 confirms that he is a regular.
"We leave mzee alone. He can be difficult sometimes, but we are now used to his ways. We don't encourage people to sit here without a drink because we won't have room for our real customers." the waitress tells me. Another meeting point which is described 'discreet' is Banana Leaf opposite Constitution Square.
Here the meetings tend to be of a clandestine nature, said Sam, whom we met there on Thursday afternoon. Sam says he uses Banana Leaf because "you see them and they don't see you". 'Them' are the security people and people who eavesdrop and steal ideas. He goes on to add that he does not have a particular job.
"I take whatever falls into my lap. If the job is outside my area of expertise, I call in those in the know and if they get the job I get my commission. I use restaurants because not only do I avoid paying rent, but sometimes in our business things are not exactly above the law. It will be hard for the Police to trace me if things went wrong."
But the problem Sam faces apart from being one step ahead of the law is his 'secretary'.
"Since I am mobile, I use various secretarial bureaus on Luwum Street and inside City Complex. When you go to them to have your proposals typed and it is a good proposal, they make copies and sell them. You have to sit there - next to them - and make sure they don't save your work onto their 'C' drive. Then there are the 'middlemen' who read through a proposal and dismiss it as thoughtless. However, later they sell it to another client. You have no sense of security or privacy. Competition is high and backstabbing is the order of the day.
Kampala's first virtual office
The latest trend in town is called the virtual office. 'The Virtual Office', as the proprietor of Transnet, which is located on the mezzanine floor of Social Security House, puts it, " aims to give one a place they can call home." He says that he conceived the idea while on a trip to South Africa. "It makes economic sense. Many briefcase people have to do business, but they are bogged down by infrastructure. First you have to get an office in a decent part of town, then negotiate rent, buy furniture, have a telephone and Internet installed.
You need a secretary and, of course, with her, comes a cleaner. All these are expenses the briefcase operator can do without. At Transnet, we offer you your own exclusive office which can be rented by the hour, day or month. The offices are fully equipped with furniture, desktop computers, Internet and most importantly, a landline and secretary."
Your 'personal secretary' is there to type, bind, print and send documents on your behalf.
Explaining how the system works, he said: "Say you are in town and a client wants to meet you. You agree on the time, call us and we will book an office for you. We allocate you two landline numbers. When someone calls, it shows up on our computer and our secretary will answer by saying: "Good morning, followed by the name of your company."
And when you are not in the office, our secretary will take your messages, giving your client the impression that it is indeed your office." But of course, there may be some briefcase operators who can't afford the minimum one hour rental fee of sh10,000. Rather than leave them out in the cold, Transnet also has an Internet café and restaurant that caters for their needs. Indeed, in the afternoon when we toured the virtual office, huddled round a number of tables were 'businessmen.'
At Uganda Revenue Authority (URA), Patrick Mukiibi, the public relations officer says that operating without an office has been a growing trend over the past 10 years. "Many people don't have an office for cost-effectiveness. Most of them are into consultancy and don't need an office. As long as you have a laptop, you can work."
To pay VAT, one has to have 'a place of abode' and many briefcase operators fall outside this realm. It could be true that some people could be involved in businesses which are not legitimate hence the absence of offices."
My office is wherever I sit - Abdulrazak
Like any young businessman, Feisal Abdulrazak, has a cash flow problem. But when you see him sitting behind his desk in his virtual office at Transnet, it is not an impression that comes to mind. Rather he looks like a man on the rise - CEO of a small firm as his title on the business card reads.
At the moment, the income his business generates does not afford him the luxury of renting an office or have a secretary. Abdulrazak started out in the marketing department of Club Silk before moving to Voltz Discothèque on Entebbe Road.
Though he was marketing Voltz just as he was doing at Club Silk, he took an interest in the cocktails that the club was selling. "We were known for our cocktails and at the rate people drank them, I knew there was a lucrative market out there."
Abdulrazak eventually parted company with Voltz and went on to form his own company, Cock Tail House II, which specialises in mixing cocktails at weddings, functions and house or office parties.
But with no capital to rent an office, all the company could afford were business cards. "The streets of Kampala with all their cafes provided plenty of office space for me. Like the Temptations sang in their 1960s hit, Papa Was A Rolling Stone, ' wherever he lay his hat was his home ', in my case, wherever I sit is my office.
But getting business is not easy, especially when people do not see a landline number on your calling card. They promise they will get in touch, but you never hear from them. To them you are just a kiwani - out to fleece them.
"I can't remember how I stumbled on Transnet, but I am glad I did. With an office - a base of operation, things are looking up. My clients now meet me in 'my office' and because of that sense of establishment, business is beginning to trickle, in including snaring a lucrative utl contract.
Abdulrazak rents 'his office' depending on need. He says: "They charge me sh10,000 an hour, but the cost may go up depending on how long I intend to use the office and what kind of office I use." Transnet provide a variation of offices.
The cheapest comes with a desk, desktop computer, and two chairs for guests. Others have a large executive desk along with a conference table. "It all depends on your needs" Abdulrazak adds. "And all offices are tiled or carpeted and have a corporate look" he says.
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