Faith Popcorn, Jonathan Foster-Pedley: Ahead of our time – kindness in 2021

This year has had its curses and blessings for everyone.

Among my 2020 highlights: a rare opportunity to spend an hour with two extraordinary people – marketing icon Faith Popcorn, at her office in New York, and Henley Business School Africa Dean Jon Foster-Pedley in Johannesburg on the other side of the globe. Take a listen (scroll to link below): I’m sure you’ll agree – it’s hard to tell that this is a conversation across three continents.

Best wishes to you and your loved ones for 2021. Here’s hoping it’s a year filled with blessings – and more wonderful times with remarkable people.

Listen to Faith Popcorn, Jonathan Foster-Pedley here.

^Jackie

This first appeared in the BizNews Daily Insider newsletter:

Be kind: your business depends on it – Faith Popcorn, Jon Foster-Pedley

Covid-enforced rules of engagement have given us all rare glimpses into other people’s lives that otherwise would have been unlikely. Earlier this month I was fortunate to spend a pleasurable hour on Zoom in the company of characterful world-leading futurist Faith Popcorn and the highly personable Dean Jon Foster-Pedley, director of the Henley Business School Africa (part of the University of Reading).

The conversation focused on happiness and kindness, which Popcorn – whose strategies have underpinned many game-changing innovations for businesses over four decades – has identified as essential attributes for brands to project. The alternative: customers will turn to those who show they genuinely care about the world and others, said the expert who has been described as the Nostradamus of marketing.

Popcorn, with a trendy scarlet-red short hair cut, was at a desk with a Picasso-style sketch produced by a friend on the wall behind her, in New York. We connected with Foster-Pedley, who was under a thatch roof at his home office, in Johannesburg.

In keeping with the theme, we were very kind to each other. We got to say hello to Foster-Pedley’s domestic worker, who made a cameo appearance. Popcorn revealed that she is working on a rap with SA rocker Karen Zoid – this, because Zoid has ‘kindly’ offered to teach her to write a song.

The Popcorn Report author and trends forecaster said she’d be happy to chat to BizNews again; next time the topic may not be so kind, but it is sure to be engaging. We might pick up more on SA-born tech pioneer Elon Musk, whose vision of the future has the world making plans for humans to go to Mars, among his many other inventions.

For a bit of fun and a reminder of the importance of kindness, listen to the conversation with Popcorn and Foster-Pedley here.

Sound bites

Faith Popcorn: Mood modulation, marijuana, living in a square box 

“We’ve been having delicious chats with Professor Foster-Pedley about people’s search for just plain happiness. It’s kind of mood modulation. That’s the reason marijuana is getting big. We’re talking about, not happiness from the soul, but induced happiness. Mushrooms, alcohol have gone through the roof. What are we looking for? We’re looking to change our mood…To become happy. In the end, people start to understand that it’s how you receive what’s been thrown at you, more than trying to change what’s been thrown at you.

“At Harvard, the most attended class was a class in happiness. We’re searching for it desperately. We’re lonely. We’re even lonely without Covid being in our pod. We’re living in a square box, we’re fighting with our spouses – divorce is through the roof.

There seems to be certain human entitlement to happiness. How come only babies can giggle?

Faith Popcorn in conversation with Jon foster-Pedley, Jackie Cameron – BizNews Radio

Jonathan Foster-Pedley on creativity

Jonathan Foster-Pedley on happiness in business:

“Businesses exist to create value for people. Some of that is addictive value, some of it is consumerist. But deep down, what we’re looking for is prosperous societies that give us a decent living. Just having things – as we all know, may be nice to have – but that’s not proper living. The whole idea of what makes a worthwhile life becomes really important in business these days. Especially when you see what businesses and governments do to make life not worthwhile, in terms of the unintended consequences of pollution, species disruption, and pure addiction to work and acquisition.

“So business schools have become very interested in prosperity rather than profit. What makes for a prosperous life, especially when you’ve got South Africa with so many poor people who are smart and can come out of that poor quality of life into something better? So business schools have woken up to the idea that they are connected to humanity at large. We are becoming more and more interested in what makes a quality life.

Faith Popcorn on hiding behind the CSR wall

“I hate corporate social responsibility. I think they built a wall so defended, so fraught with lawyers, so deep and impenetrable – such a big, tall wall that they can hide behind. Does that arose an increased heartbeat or a passion in you when you hear corporate social responsibility?

Repression is never happiness. How can you be happy if you are repressed? The question is, how much of me is welcome at work? Now, if what is welcome at work is some little construct who is ever so polite, how are you ever going to get those people being creative? Because creativity is a voluntary act. Look at Faith. She’s oozing creativity. But it’s not through repression and hiding herself.

‘Don’t capitalise on kindness‘

I think the money-making opportunity is, if you’re sincerely kind in the workplace, your people will perform better. Some of them will take advantage of that, but they should go if they do. But when we start manufacturing and selling kindness – ‘oh, we’re so kind, we’re so good and we gave away a pair of socks for everyone’ – okay, that’s nice. But you should be doing that anyway and you shouldn’t have to mention it. I don’t want to see anyone capitalising on kindness. It sort of takes it away.

Kindness – just do it

You get more out of building things for the community. That’s the real secret of happiness. You get more out of thriving and giving and building. You just do.

Stranger Danger

There’s a common belief that people don’t change. But, I have come to the conclusion that we do. Usually incrementally, as we adapt to what life throws at us. Sometimes the adjustment is incredibly fast, like when something sudden or traumatic happens.

This week, I was reminded of how I underwent major mental shifts when it comes to trusting strangers in my two-and-a-half years that I lived in China. With a meagre Chinese vocabulary, and little English spoken in the provincial city where I was resident, I was obliged to place my faith in a range of people with whom I could not communicate. These occasions included very scary situations, like when I needed doctors treating my sick children in state hospitals to work miracles – to more ordinary rituals, such as having a haircut that wouldn’t deliver too many unsightly surprises.

I thought that my days of relying on the universe for protection, and hoping that most humans are basically good at heart and therefore I am in safe hands, were behind me. Yesterday, I realised they are not. I seem to have developed a habit.

There I was, again blindly trusting complete strangers with my destiny in two separate incidents in one day. First I needed help getting across Barcelona, and allowed myself to be led by the nose from train to train to the airport; later my plane back to Scotland was delayed to such an extent it was going to be a major challenge to get home in the early hours of the morning.

My little adventures got my adrenalin pumping. I was keenly aware it could all have gone horribly wrong.

Particularly the later incident, when I found myself agreeing to take a lift from a man who overheard me mentioning that I had missed the last train, just before midnight, from the centre of Edinburgh. He immediately offered and I found it hard to say ‘no’, even though my inner alarm bells were ringing hard.

After all, I have had it drummed into me not to get into cars with strangers. And, I have my own horrible personal experience to remind me it is such a bad idea to accept lifts from men I don’t know.

Flashback to my first year at Rhodes University. Freshers’ Week. Someone phones me to invite me to the beach; however, a person I don’t recognise shows up to fetch me.

It’s not the young man I thought it would be. I am too polite to say that I don’t want to go, even though my 18-year-old gut is telling me something is wrong.

This guy was older than the other students. Maybe 10 years older.

With hindsight I doubt he was a student. In fact, to this day I’m convinced I had a lucky escape from a serious psycho. If I told you exactly what he did on the beach, I’m sure you’ll agree.

I will spare you most of the details. All you perhaps need to know is that he took his clothes off and started readying himself for some nasty business. He told me of his plans to get me into the sea. It didn’t sound like he thought I would be drying off in the sun later.

I was terrified. I couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down my face, which he enjoyed tremendously as he tried tugging me deeper into the water and I kept pulling back. He was getting a kick out of seeing my fear.

Then, there was a bolt of what I can only describe as divine intervention. A lucky opportunity. A mature couple arrived in the distance on this deserted beach for a stroll. This guy wasn’t expecting to see anyone so he hadn’t factored this into his planning.

I made a run for it. And I moved along near the pair of walkers until they reached the hotel where this guy had parked his car.

I can’t explain why I didn’t tell these people I was in trouble. Or why I didn’t rush through the lobby demanding to see the manager with a view to being rescued.

Instead, I made a dash for the toilet, where I sobbed on the shoulders of a domestic worker who was cleaning up in there. I told her to remember me and the car he was driving.

Then, I pulled myself together and emerged from the bathroom to take him on. I put on my tough armour.

I told him there was a witness. If anything happened to me, there was a woman in the bathroom who had all the information on me – and on his car, I told him. He would be found, eventually, I said. Then I ordered him to take me back to university.

The drive home, in his expensive two-door red convertible, must have taken at least two hours, though perhaps it just felt like an incredibly long time. I never saw him or his car again on campus, or in the town, even though it was a small university community.

I also never told anyone in authority about the incident, or my parents for that matter. Perhaps because I couldn’t get my head around how I would explain my stupidity and the graphic nature of aspects of what had happened. And, it would be his word against mine. Who would believe me?

Getting back to the man who gave me a lift home this week. I wasn’t a complete putz. I made a quick risk calculation. He was in a suit with a briefcase and had clearly done a day run to London. He would know, as well as I would, he’d be easy to track down later if necessary in this high-surveillance society.

He wasn’t knocking back any beers on the plane or being over-familiar with anyone. The only thing he had done that was odd was to spontaneously offer to give me a lift while eavesdropping from the seat in front of me. And, as I am no longer a spring chicken and wasn’t looking or smelling my best after heaving a 20kg backpack across Europe for the best part of the day, I couldn’t imagine he had ulterior motives.

Having made a study of serial killers in my years as a crime reporter, I figured he was a little too old to fit the classic profile. It would be just as risky getting in a taxi without a booking, and probably riskier, than taking my chances with this man at midnight, I thought.

As it turns out, he was fine: polite and careful not to appear too friendly in case I misconstrued his good deed. I got the whole history of his entrepreneurial endeavours (he seems to employ hundreds of people) and he pointed out his mansion on the hill before dropping me off a short walk from my front door. I looked on the internet later and his story checked out.

Stranger danger: A real risk? Jackie Cameron reflects on accepting lifts from strange men.

I got home safely. Still, I have made a ‘mental note to self’ to take my car to the airport next time, rather than relying on public transport and the kindness of strangers.

Note: Speaking of evil deeds, I’ve just posted a feature I wrote on cyber-crime on my website. Often the people we think we know – our colleagues, service providers and others – are spying on us. It is scary how much information people can gather about your business without you knowing it. If you’re interested in that piece, published in Equinox magazine, you can find it in the Recently Published Elsewhere section. Or see this PDF download of Going Phishing.

 

Pepe Marais: champion for Joe Public. Now, let’s put him forward for the Presidential race.

I hope one of my former colleagues decides to put himself forward as a Parliamentary candidate one day. If anyone is an exemplary new South African, it is Pepe Marais.

I was absolutely delighted when he connected with me on Twitter recently. I was also surprised. He is so busy and I took it for granted, quite wrongly, that he must have much more on his mind than taking a few minutes to catch up with people who have passed him briefly on his swift journey up the career and business ladder.

Of all the people I worked with in my first job after graduating from university, Pepe Marais is undoubtedly the one who has given the impression of achieving the greatest success in his career. He has won so many creative awards, I can’t imagine he has been able to keep count.

Pepe Marais and I worked together at an advertising agency in Cape Town. I was a junior copywriter and he was a junior graphic designer. We spent much of our time working on advertising and marketing campaigns for the liquor industry.

In addition to his artistic talents, Pepe is an entrepreneur, creating jobs and contributing to the economy. He founded Joe Public, a thriving advertising agency that came up with the novel idea to serve advertising with a take-away theme to keep costs contained for clients. It has evolved over the years, now focusing on “media agnostic strategies” and growth. Joe Public has been a trend-setter in a very trendy environment.

If you know the advertising industry, you will be aware that the people who work in this sector have a reputation for being materialistic, brand conscious and generally self-serving. There again, Pepe Marais bucks the trend.

His focus on Joe Public has spread beyond his capitalist endeavours. Pepe’s priority these days is a project called One School at a Time.

Pepe told me that he keeps working on his business so that it can feed into this project, which is aimed at improving the quality of education in impoverished communities. He has roped some of his clients into One School at a Time.

Pepe is incredibly ambitious for this programme, which has a funding element but more importantly requires much time and individual input by him and the other people who support the project.

He started One School at a Time after coming to the conclusion that the only way to really improve life in South Africa is through education. Many other people, well-connected influential people, know this too, but few have taken steps like Pepe Marais has to transform convictions into actions.

A few months ago I was asked to write a feature on corporate social investing (CSI) for an upmarket magazine aimed at higher net worth individuals. It was the perfect opportunity to connect with Pepe once again and hear more about One School at a Time.

The project, as you might expect from one of the best creative brains in South Africa, takes an innovative approach to making a difference to people who need it the most. Of course, that’s what everyone who has a CSI project will say, but in this case the commitment of the people driving the programme goes beyond numbers and reporting in a glossy brochure for shareholders. They also take advantage of their lateral thinking abilities.

For example, One School at a Time ran a radio campaign which demonstrated a young South African’s progress after receiving regular English lessons. Another media campaign uses radio frequencies to speak to people in their cars about why people beg in South Africa.

The creative work to raise awareness is only a small aspect of the project. Marais and his team spend much time at schools, for example brainstorming ideas with school managers on how to do things differently in circumstances that require fresh thinking.

As you probably know, I’ve got a thick skin so not much moves me to tears in the work environment. Chatting to a principal at one of the schools receiving Marais’ support did, however.

I interviewed the head of the Johannesburg secondary over the phone, from my work base near Edinburgh.

This is a school where 70% of the pupils are orphans. Only they don’t live in an orphanage.

These teenagers are running households of children whose parents have been wiped out by HIV/Aids. It is a school where pupils are genuinely excited when they win a carrot or some other vegetable as a reward for a successfully completing a maths exercise or for picking up litter in the school grounds.

Can you imagine a whole community of children growing up without parents to love and look after them, serve as role models and motivate them to improve their circumstances? These are young people living off modest social grants and tips they receive for waving motorists into parking spots at shopping centres; children who have to find their own rent, albeit for squalid accommodation, and are supposed to scrape together modest school fees.

Of this I have no doubt: Pepe Marais is playing a role where it is needed the most. He is also doing this from the bottom of his heart for the people who matter to him the most – his fellow citizens.

You can read the magazine feature that highlights One School at a Time on my blog.  Find out more about One School at a Time.  

Here comes the hairy white beast

One of the best editors I’ve ever worked for has an amazing way to diffuse tension in a newsroom. Borrowed from conductor and inspirational speaker Benjamin Zander, he calls it Rule 52. Basically it is this: let’s not take ourselves too seriously, people.

I’ve been having a few rough weeks. So, in the interests of my own sanity, I am applying Rule 52 to myself.

I have decided to publish a piece I wrote some time ago, reflecting on an experience back in China. Because, if you can’t laugh, then why are we here? Besides, it is nearly Valentine’s Day – and the theme of this piece has some romantic angles, if you will.

To give a bit of context: Before I moved to China, my life in South Africa looked something like this. I spent most of my hours wearing away laptop keyboards in my study, while a wonderful woman called Letticia worked for me in the house and babysat my children when they got home from school (more about her, soon). My tiny study looked out onto Bantry Bay, quite possibly the most beautiful stretch of coastline in Cape Town, where I could see whales and yachts and the evening sun setting over the Atlantic Ocean. From the other side of my home (in Kloof Road, in case you are interested), I could look up at the side of Table Mountain. Beyond the burglar bars and alarms, I drove a smart 2×4 with bullet-proof windows to the nearest shopping centre.

I took a lot of stuff for granted, like highlights and french manicures.

Flash forward: My life in China entailed living, communist style, in an apartment which looked identical to the homes of everyone else who worked for the organisation that hired my husband. The same couches, beds, tables, wok, Chinese cutlery, Chinese laundry room – and the same Ayi sharing her time (and gossip, it must be said) between apartments. There was no point reading any of the mail I got from a bank, or anyone, because I couldn’t understand it.

There was no communication via social media with the outside world because the government blocks all access. No western music. Very little English is spoken in China. As for transport: my preference was to snuggle up to the locals in ovecrowded buses and trains. Occasionally, though, I ended up on the back of a pedi-cab, which is basically a person-drawn cart, with western-style food piled up next to me on the seat and around my feet after a ‘Metro’ (or Med-a-long, as you would say in China) shop some distance away from home.

And, I could take nothing for granted. After my first visit to a hairdresser in Beijing, I was transformed from a sun-streaked blonde to orange-with-gentian-blue-stripes (basically a blue-rinse redhead). The young man who did my hair was very excited because he’d never worked on Caucasian hair before. My visit to a beauty salon proved even more memorable.

I hope you enjoy this little piece. But be warned: if you are squeamish about pubic hairs and stuff like that, or don’t like the sound of Rule 52, this one is not for you. Or, if you’d prefer to read something more serious, or analytical on China, please hit the ‘World Views’ tab on my blog instead. – JC

Here comes the hairy white beast 

What’s a Caucasian girl to do to keep her bikini line trim if she lives in China? Jackie Cameron steps behind the pink curtain for a unique salon experience.

Ever had what Oprah Winfrey calls a light bulb moment? You know, a sudden moment of clarity, when you see a situation for what it is?

I had such a moment watching that famous scene in Sex and the City, the movie, when the Mexican sunlight catches Cynthia Nixon – aka Miranda Hobbes –along the bushy red shoreline of her swimsuit. You may recall that blonde TV orgasm queen Kim Cattrall let out a gasp of horror at the untidy strands of hair peeping out at her?

Miranda’s excuses that she was too busy in her career to wax were quickly shrugged off by her New York city girlfriends. There’s no excuse for not taking care of yourself in that department, was the resounding message to Miranda.

I felt for Miranda, really I did. In fact, the same problem was growing on me, though for different reasons, and I felt a hot twinge of emotional discomfort about it.

Heaven forbid my husband would feel compelled to make a similar admonishing remark to me as Cattrall’s Samantha Jones did to her hapless red-head lawyer friend. I had to do something about this, I thought, spurred on by the “Sex and the City” girl talk. I would make a similar, Cynthia-style clean-up operation my mission.

Come into my parlour…

After months of living in China, I had yet to make contact with a beauty salon that did waxing. Or, shall I say, a beauty salon that did some waxing in those parts for the usual reasons, and had some interest in selling such a service to foreigners.

I’d trawled through pages of glossy hard-backed menus at various, sweetly-scented spas. Face massages, foot massages, exotic anti-pigmentation procedures, road surfacing-like skin peels: you name it, you could probably have it done for you in China. All except a bikini or leg wax, it seemed.

When at last I finally spotted a wax advertised among the offerings at a 5-star city hotel’s salon, the lady on duty at reception mustered enough words in English to make it clear this service was no longer available. Didn’t women in China wax, I wondered? Maybe the local women didn’t have hair down there? I mean, what did I really know about the Chinese?

There was one last place I hadn’t tried, however. And it was for a reason. You see, Chlitina, I had been told amid a group of giggling ex-pats, was where women went for their jollies. It looks like a beauty treatment spa, but it’s really a front, a business that looks like one thing but is actually something else, Mrs Canada had said authoritatively.

It’s where you go for a full body massage that includes a “happy ending”, gushed Mrs Canada, scarcely containing her excitement. She knew, she relayed to a captivated room, because her unnamed friend had told her all about politely pushing away a vibrator at the end of a massage that very week. No word of a lie!

Chlitina – yes, that’s really its name and you pronounce it CLIT-EE-NA – advertises in the Chinese English media. They have “waxing services for people with too much hair. 180 yuan (about US$30) for one body area, like two arms, or two legs,” goes its local city listings’ guide, no doubt eliciting a few chortles from witty English readers.

Nudge, nudge; wink, wink

With an urban legend like the one that had come out of Mrs Canada’s lips, and the entrance of the local Chlitina situated not far from Mrs Canada’s front door, how could I dare pop in? What if Mr or Mrs Canada or one of the others who knew about what really went on in there spotted me in the vicinity of Chlitina?

What would they be saying about what I get up to while the children are doing their homework? Even my husband had given me a knowing look when, soon after Mrs Canada’s revelation, the old Chinese dear in his office let slip she was off for her regular Friday afternoon massage as we passed her in the corridor.

This massive national Chlitina chain, I had wondered: were so many thousands of Chinese women really being helped to climax daily in these little pink-and-white shops to be found everywhere in all of China’s cities? On one hand, such a conservative society; on the other, bringing new meaning to the “mass” part of turbation.

It was with some trepidation, therefore, that I finally entered the mysterious halls of the Chlitina group. I thought I’d come armed with my bikini bottoms so that I could accurately demonstrate the required area of operation if hand gestures were required for communication, as is so often the case for me given my limited Chinese vocabulary. There would be no room for error if they got the request, through my pointing and motioning, wrong.

“I mean, what if they think I want the vibrator service,” I had asked of my husband a little earlier. “Oh,” he replied mischievously, “just enjoy it.”

Sign language

Yes, the five young uniformed shop assistants nodded in unison, they understood wax. Yes, they immediately understood bikini wax. Yes, that will cost….The elegantly-dressed manageress tapped out the price on a calculator so that we could all be clear on the number.

I hadn’t thought I was particularly hairy but the price was not an insignificant sum. In a nutshell, it would have paid for a nice dinner for four at one of the city’s smarter restaurants.

I baulked – but only briefly as the memory of Sam ticking off Miranda came back into my head. There are some things that have just got to be done, I reminded myself as I was ushered through to the inner sanctum and asked to put on a pair of slippers before being led up two flights of stairs into a dimly-lit, incensed suite complete with shower and luxury bath.

I felt nervous as I was asked to remove my trousers and get onto a massage bed made up with fluffy towels. A white towel was handed to me so I could cover my upper thighs, and then the two beauticians got down to business.

Pain first, then pleasure

It was a wax like no other I have had. First they brought in shiny interior decor magazines, and ripped out pages of beautifully-styled apartments and laid them around me on the bed where there was space.

Then, one attendant opened a jar of what looked and felt like cold honey and spread it using a flat metal nail file over the salient parts as though it was being applied to a piece of toast. Magazine pages, in turn, were placed over the sticky “wax” and the two beauty therapists got to work rubbing and rubbing the pages with their hands and until the pages stuck to me.

Finally, they ripped the pages off me, collecting very few hairs along the way. So they repeated the process, again and again. Occasionally they took a damp cloth and wiped me to remove the traces of sepia ink that had been left behind by the photographs. They did a bit of plucking with a tweezer, too, until more than two hours later I suggested we call it a day.

It’s painful to be beautiful, I’d remembered my grandmother saying as I nobly steeled myself for one magazine page after the next. I had taken comfort in the fact I am supposed to have a high pain threshold as the procedure moved on to progressively more delicate terrain. And I had wondered as I lay there, holding my breath through the worst bits, whether I was the only one at a Chlitina who wasn’t having a relaxing afternoon.

I don’t believe I was the only one. For, at the very least, if others were having more fun, surely I would have heard the tell-tale drone of battery-operated toys in full throttle from beyond the frosted-glass panel door of my cubicle.

Evidently not all services at Chlitina come with that so-called happy ending. Still, I reckon Samantha would have been proud of me for attending to some essential female business. As for my husband, his text message to me as soon as he got news of my departure from Chlitina said it all: “Shorn at last? Looking forward to an inspection later.”

You can catch up on the Miranda bikini moment scene here: http://youtu.be/jm8lWi5X73U

• Jackie Cameron lives in Scotland, where there’s no shortage of spas and over-the-counter hair removal kits. Her advice to China newbies? Only believe half of everything your fellow foreigners will tell you about the city and other expats. And bring your own waxing kit.

A very special Christmas with Nelson Mandela

My husband, Adrian Hadland, is a prolific and incredibly fast writer. He has written so many books that I lost count after 15. I’d like to think I’m a good influence on this score, not least of all because I force him out of bed every day at the crack of dawn (and often before) to get to work while he has a book underway. Call me a slave-driver!

His industry hasn’t made him rich, but it has brought in some nice pocket money from time to time. Adrian used the proceeds of “The Life and Times of Thabo Mbeki”, an unauthorised and controversial biography of South Africa’s second president, to take me on a memorable trip to the exotic Indonesian island of Bali.

A very important aspect Adrian has carefully mulled over each time he has completed a book has been his dedication.  “The Life and Times of Thabo Mbeki” was dedicated to me and the co-author’s wife Pearl Rantao.

Adrian’s latest book, a weighty academic work that could possibly be his magnum opus and which is currently being examined by a US publisher, is dedicated to my 7-year-old, Timothy.

Only a handful of very clever people are expected to appreciate Timothy’s work when it gets into print. Timothy’s name is on this one because, as the youngest, he is the only person in the family who has not received a book dedication from Adrian – and that’s what there is available at this time.

Although Adrian produces very serious pieces he also has this rare ability to write for children. One of his books for the Under 12 market  – and one dedicated exclusively to me – is called “Nelson Mandela: The prisoner who gave the world hope”. Published by Short Books, it is on school and library lists in various countries, including the UK.

When we first arrived in Scotland, my eldest son told some children at school that his Dad had written books, including on Mandela. One boy and his family were so certain Nicholas was fibbing that the mother took the trouble to tell me that my son had been lying about his father meeting Mandela and that these kinds of tales were not going down well.

Later, Nicholas came rushing home with the news that some classmates had found “Nelson Mandela: The prisoner who gave the world hope” in the school library. On the one hand, Nicholas was relieved because there was independent evidence that he had been telling the truth.

On the other, there was much talking about – gasp of embarrassment – a spelling mistake! It turns out his classmates and their parents thought “Afrikaans” should have been “Africans”.  (Just in case you don’t know: Afrikaans is a language which has Dutch roots.)

So, for the record, Adrian Hadland did meet Nelson Mandela many times. Perhaps the most special Christmas celebration of all for Adrian was the one he spent with Nelson Mandela at the first black South African president’s home in Qunu. Adrian reflects back on it in an obituary he wrote for a UK newspaper, which I thought I would republish here on my blog this month as South Africans everywhere mourn Mandela’s loss.   – Jackie Cameron

A tribute to Nelson Mandela.

By Adrian Hadland*

One of several books on Mandela, by Adrian Hadland. This one is dedicated to “Jackie, my wife and muse”.

On August 4^th, 1981, Glasgow became the first city in the world to bestow the freedom of the city to Nelson Mandela. In its time, this was a bold statement.

In many parts of the globe, including the UK, public sentiment was not very favourable towards the man who hadn’t been seen in public life for almost 20 years. Lucky to escape the hangman’s noose, Mandela was imprisoned for life in a Pretoria courtroom on charges of terrorism in 1964.

After his conviction, he was immediately shipped back to the terrifyingly harsh Robben Island prison where he chopped rocks with a hammer in the harsh sun for most of the next two decades.

Here, in the UK, Margaret Thatcher had only been in power for a year or two by 1981 and quickly lost interest in the plight of Mandela and the liberation movement he led. Supported by US President Ronald Reagan and by the interests of global big business, she quashed efforts to impose economic sanctions on South Africa’s whites-only regime. Instead, she invited South African President PW Botha to visit the UK in 1984, encouraged trade and castigated Mandela’s beloved African National Congress (ANC) as “a typical terrorist organisation”.

So it was no mean feat for Glasgow to step forward in the early 1980s to publicly acknowledge the qualities of a man who, not too many years later, would be hailed as one of the world’s greatest leaders.

Glasgow’s recognition was extraordinarily prescient. Even among the senior leadership of the ANC at that time, it wasn’t widely known that Mandela, deep in the confines of his stone prison, had begun to work his magic.

As South Africa tipped into violent conflict and moved inexorably toward a race-based civil war, he secretly met with Botha’s emissaries, including the Minister of Justice Kobie Coetsee, and began to talk about the country’s future.

What sort of terms would be needed to bring about peace in South Africa? Who would negotiate such terms? What kind of model of democracy would be needed to shift the nation away from the brink of war and toward tolerance and justice?

Offered freedom on condition he eschewed violence, Mandela refused. Before the ANC would drop its weapons, he demanded certain guarantees including universal franchise, democratic government, the unbanning of political parties, the release of political prisoners and the end to racial segregation.

Holding out while these talks continued for many years came at considerable personal cost. He went on a prolonged hunger strike to improve conditions in the prison. His wife, Winnie Mandela, ran off the rails and they were divorced not long after his release. He was unable to attend the funeral of his eldest son, Thembi, killed in a car crash. And the deprivation he suffered on that small island in the Atlantic for more than 25 years can only really be appreciated if you make the two hour boat journey from Cape Town harbour to ‘the island’ and see for yourself.

Remarkably, Mandela managed to convince both the apartheid authorities and his own party leadership that there was a route through the barriers of hate and history toward freedom. By the early 1980s, Mandela had so won over his prison guards he was free to roam the island. By 1988 he had moved into a vacant prison warder’s house on the mainland. And on February 2 1990, after more than 10,000 days in jail, he walked free.

Mandela: A LIfe (also by Adrian Hadland) was translated into several languages and proved popular in France.

When I visited him a few years later, in the remote town of Qunu on the east coast of South Africa, he had painstakingly rebuilt an exact replica of that prison warder’s house and made it his home.

Outside, it was a rather ugly, face-brick bungalow set amid the green, rolling hills of the area known as the Transkei. He loved the house. It represented his first taste of freedom for 25 years. On the inside, the house thronged with the noises of his family, of his grandchildren, as they prepared excitedly for Christmas lunch.

It was Mandela’s first Christmas as the newly-elected president of South Africa and I felt very fortunate to have been invited. At the time I was the senior writer of a new newspaper, the Sunday Independent. As a political correspondent who covered his ascent from prisoner to president, I had enjoyed a front row seat of Mandela’s difficult but fascinating journey to power.

On that Christmas morning of 1994, he and I (and a handful of his security guards) wandered the pathways of his youth. He showed me the rock he had played on as a child, the cluster of huts where he had slept. We met simple country people, many on their way to feast on the slaughtered cow now turning over a fire in his garden. They raised their arms and called ‘Madiba’, his clan name, for Mandela was a Xhosa prince as well as a democrat. When he went to court expecting the death sentence in 1964, he went in his tribal robes and prince’s crown.

There are so many moments to recall in my time with Mandela, good and bad. I was a few feet away when he swore the presidential oath of office at the Union Buildings in Pretoria and the airforce fighter jets roared over our heads to salute their triumphant new commander. I was also in court when he filed for divorce. He was as grim and somber as one could be.

I recall how he joked that when he moved into his vacant office in the Presidency there wasn’t a single chair, pencil or phone left behind by his predecessor and fellow Nobel peace prize laureate, Mr FW De Klerk.

Nelson Mandela and Adrian Hadland share a private joke, on Christmas day at the first black South African president’s home in Qunu, Eastern Cape. This picture was taken by Anton Hammerl, an award-winning South African photographer who was killed while covering the Arab Spring in Libya.

There were challenges to the press corps when covering such a man. He was adored and celebrated. He could do no wrong. This was not a journalism we were used to. Where was the scandal? The mistakes? The complacency of power? He would call on the phone to chat and laugh about the stuffy ambassador he’d just met or give some background on the press conference that would be called in the morning. He was totally disarming, as almost all who came to his world, friend and foe, soon realised.

He would have been the first to admit he wasn’t perfect. I learned this the hard way. One day he took off his reading glasses during a speech and announced that everyone over the age of 13 would get to vote in the next election. Sensation! We rushed to file our stories. The next morning, front page leads were laden with banner headlines and gaudy editorials.

Alas, this was just a spur-of-the-moment idea, a “Mandela-ism” as they became known to us in the corps. It had not even been discussed by the ANC who soon smilingly discarded the crazy notion into the dustbin of history. We learned our lesson. When he took off his glasses and moved off the prepared script, we put down our pens and notebooks.

He was also prone to the odd temper and on one occasion – the aftermath of the infamous Boipatong massacre – literally shouted at and abused his counterpart, De Klerk, in public.

The challenges he faced in rebuilding South Africa after 300 years of colonialism and apartheid were also truly overwhelming. He presided over more than 500 Acts of Parliament in his first and only presidential term, many fundamentally rebuilding the country’s governmental and social structure.

It will take many more years before the normalcy he dreamed off is achieved or the equality and development he yearned for will be realised.

Perhaps what Mandela is best known for, his greatest gift, was his capacity to forgive. He suffered greatly, beyond comprehension at times, but was able to win the admiration, trust and cooperation of his fiercest adversaries. He was a man of great principle, never compromising on his need to sound out opinion and decide things collectively.

Mandela learned true democracy at the fireside in an African village as he listened to the elders, including his father, debate and argue the issues of the day: All were listened to, all respected. If some opposed the way forward, the discussion was put off to another day. Only decisions that gained the support of all were adopted.

His roots and his beliefs are a reminder that democratic values form part and parcel of the ancient fabric of human life, going back to the earliest of times. Over the centuries, many have sacrificed their lives for such values and many more have blossomed in their light.

Scotland is part of this journey. Here too we ponder the true meaning and future of democracy. Here too we see a fork in the road ahead and wonder which way is the right one.

Mandela will soon be gone, but his legacy will endure. He was truly a great man, and it is to Glasgow’s credit, that it was the first city to say so.

* Dr Adrian Hadland is the director of the journalism programme at the University of Stirling. He worked as a political journalist in South Africa for 15 years covering the country’s transition from apartheid to democracy. He has published several books and book chapters about Mandela.

A shorter version of this obituary  appeared in The Herald newspaper in Scotland.

What your bank manager knows, but won’t tell you, about credit cards

I’m a bit sceptical about whether engaging on Twitter is worth the time that goes into building a base of followers and tracking what everyone is saying. Occasionally, though, Twitter has great value as a tool for making contact with potential news sources and building new contacts.

Recently, I interviewed two people I reconnected with through  Twitter for a magazine article on the rules of social media etiquette (that piece is available in the “Recently published” section of my blog). And, last week, I was able to use great information tweeted to me by my newest Twitter friend, Thulani Shabalala of KZN, in a column for Biznewz.com (see below).

Thulani (@Thulani12) was very generous in sharing information about how he uses his credit card so that he makes money out of it, rather than giving the bank the opportunity to generate huge amounts of interest on his back. Thulani’s tips reminded me of advice I received from the editor who gave me my break in financial journalism as assistant editor of South Africa’s first consumer finance magazine, Personal Finance.

That editor’s name is Bruce Cameron. He’s not related to me, though we do have lots in common, starting with our love of investigative journalism.

I learnt a lot in my 18 months working with Bruce – not least of all how to put a high quality consumer magazine together from scratch and then get it distributed to relevant audiences around a country. Bruce also gave me great insights into money management and investing, as you will see in this column.

Top credit card tips: Lessons at the foot of the Personal Finance master

by Jackie Cameron on October 25, 2013 in Thought Leaders

My new Twitter buddy, I have discovered, has smart money moves like the editor who first hired me as a personal finance journalist: he plays very clever games with credit cards. For more on the details about how these two maximise their salaries and keep short-term debt to a minimum, scroll down.First, though, let me introduce Thulani Shabalala (@Thulani12), who caught my eye on Twitter because his profile revealed we have some similarities: like me he is a social golfer with a 36 handicap – and not ashamed to admit it!  He is also interested in investing and personal finance issues.Thulani and I agreed to have a (slow) game of golf some time when we’re in the same city. In the meantime, he was very quick to offer some money advice when I put out a tweet asking for contributions for a follow-up to this piece: Five of the best money tips I’ve ever heard, some in strangest of places.Thanks for the excellent credit card suggestions, Thulani. I’ve added them to the list. – JC

 By Jackie Cameron

On my first day of work as a personal finance journalist some years back, my editor asked me

Thulani Shabalala

which credit card I had.

I was quite pleased to announce that I, in fact, didn’t have a credit card and preferred to live within my means and generally tried not to exceed the bounds of a current account overdraft facility.

He, on the other hand, was visibly appalled. You can’t be a personal finance journalist and not have a credit card, he admonished, no doubt wondering why he hadn’t asked me this question in the interview.

My editor immediately put through a call to his personal banker, who arrived later that day armed with application forms. And, shortly after that, a credit card with an enormous facility – far more than I could repay with at least three salary cheques – arrived.

It must be said: few people can move bank managers from their seats and into an office as fast as that particular editor could. Now retired, he was the ultimate news hound, getting his teeth into the proverbial jugular of anyone who wasn’t squarely on the side of the consumer in his columns.

So, don’t expect to find it as easy as I did to sign up for my first credit card. Or to be granted such an enormous credit facility. I have no doubt the bank’s generosity was linked to the public might of my former boss (yes, we share the same surname; no, he’s not related).

But do aim to get a credit card as soon as you can. You don’t have to use it; but you will find it a much cheaper form of debt, unless you’re borrowing, for free, from a friend or family member.

Signing up for that shiny piece of plastic wasn’t the end of my credit card discussions in the editor’s office. I was tasked with figuring out how to use the thing in a way that maximised my personal finances – and then writing about it so that others could benefit from my experiences.

I will always be grateful to that editor for introducing me to credit cards.

Please remember this: a credit card is a wonderful tool if you manage it the right way. But if you make a mistake, it can be very costly.

There is a dark side to a credit card and that is the budget facility. Never use it if you can possibly help it.

If you owe money through your budget facility, start clearing this as soon as you can. The interest rate is nasty and the instalments will wear you down.

If you don’t keep up with your repayments, you can easily generate a poor credit history. That, in turn, will mean the bank manager is likely to show you the door next time you ask for a loan, for example if you want to buy property or a car.

On the other hand, consider emulating my Twitter friend Thulani Shabalala (@Thulani12), who believes in maximising income by temporarily placing the bulk of it in an interest-bearing account, or in your home loan to reduce interest.

Then use your credit card for most of your spending before repaying your credit card in full by the “payment due” date. Don’t go wild on the shopping though; stick to a budget as you would if you were using cash, taking care not to spend more than you earn.

Thulani says you should only be using up to the equivalent of your “disposable money” on your credit card, and says this is money after fixed costs like bond and car instalments.

He juggles his cash in a way that he does not get hit by interest.

“Most credit cards have the 55-day interest free period, or roughly 25 days from the close of cycle). I delay the credit card payment until about three days before the end of the interest free period,” he says.

“The goal is to not use more than 90% of the daily account limit. My spending fluctuates monthly.”

Thulani has a second credit card, which he only uses in emergencies. After he has used that card, he aims to pay that debt off quickly –  in less than three months. He reduces his spending on his regular credit card for his disposable income in order to “settle the emergency card to avoid paying too much interest”.

Shop around for credit cards with low debit interest rates and no annual fees. “Here in South Africa, I personally think the Virgin Money credit card fits these requirements,” adds Thulani.

Write to jackiecameron.uk@gmail.com

Related articles

• Why you spend more when you use a credit card (bargaineering.com)

Smart, sassy – and scarily ambitious: asset management entrepreneur Magda Wierzycka goes for total market domination

This morning an interesting bit of news appeared in my in-box: it was a strategy overview from one of the women I most admire in South Africa’s tough, male-dominated asset management industry, Magda Wierzycka.  

She was announcing the details of how she is going to ensure her company, Sygnia, becomes the largest passive investment manager in South Africa.  For starters, she has fired the first salvo in what could easily develop into a price war in the index tracking fund arena.

Magda is one of those people who has it all: she is stunningly beautiful, has boundless brain power – as her qualification as an actuary attests – and the guts and acumen to make it in a fiercely competitive business sector. She married a man who evidently isn’t intimidated by women who have high earning power and she manages to spend quality time with her family, too. Having all those attributes has a downside: it inevitably attracts much jealousy.

I have been following Magda’s progress closely over the years. I have written about developments in her professional life as well as how she views investing and the industry for a variety of news organisations, from Leadership magazine to Moneyweb.co.za. 

This week’s announcement reminds me of her plans when she became CEO of Sygnia in 2006. Over the past seven years, Magda has built what was a small company with a “happy family feeling” into the country’s second-largest institutional multi-manager. It now has assets under management in excess of R100bn (more than £6bn).

You can read more about Magda’s next steps at biznewz.com, where I’m working with Africa’s top business broadcaster Alec Hogg and a number of other journalists on building an exciting new independent news outlet.  On my blog this week, I’ve posted a piece I wrote about Magda when she announced Phase 1 of Sygnia’s plans to grow in the investment world. I was Financial Services Correspondent for a business and investment news organisation at that time.

If you have any doubt that Magda will achieve her freshly revealed ambitions, I’m sure you will find that this question mark in your head has disappeared by the time you get to the end of this article (see below). What Magda says she does. Her competitors must – to borrow a phrase from journalist colleague Barry Sergeant – be trembling in their socks.  

 

Asset management entrepreneur Wierzycka takes on big guns in R200bn industry. She spoke to Jackie Cameron.

Asset management entrepreneur Magda Wierzycka is set to take on the big guns in the R200bn multi-management industry, she told Moneyweb.

The 37-year-old Wierzycka, who recently made a cool R80m through the R300m sale of a stake in African Harvest Fund Managers to listed financial services company Cadiz late last year, has launched her own financial services group, Sygnia.

Business is already booming since Sygnia’s doors opened in December.

Magda Wierzycka is CEO of Sygnia, a group of six companies.

Staff numbers have grown from 15 to 20. Sygnia is looking for more people to join its team and Wierzycka is contemplating expanding her V&A Waterfront, Cape Town, operation to bigger premises.

Wierzycka nurtured the assets under management of African Harvest from R10bn to R32bn when she was CEO.

Then, Mzi Khumalo’s Metallon decided to sell its stake in African Harvest to free up some cash.

Wierzycka, who initially sold IQuest – a hedge fund of funds business she owned with husband Simon Peile – to African Harvest, kept that operation. It has been renamed Sygnia Asset Management.

With about R4bn under management, it continues to build customised multi-manager funds for pension funds and structure hedge funds of funds.

Also in Wierzycka’s stable is Sygnia Life, which gives the company the opportunity to structure investment products through its life licence.

Sygnia Systems, meanwhile, is an information technology company with a system, Sygnia Platinum, designed specifically for asset managers.

That product, which houses all the software requirements of an asset management company in one integrated system, was seen as a major competitive advantage for African Harvest Fund Managers where it was developed.

The team who created it, however, did not wish to move to Cadiz, hence Wierzycka kept that part of the operation, she said.

Sygnia will market the software to other asset managers.

Wierzycka said this week that after being in long-only asset management, it was time for “something new” in her career.

There was no time to take a break because many staff followed her, a number of whom also moved from Coronation Fund Managers where she was responsible for institutional business before it listed about five years ago, and they needed jobs.

In addition to seeing much more room for growth in the hedge funds of funds space, Wierzycka has her sights set on becoming a major player in the multi-manager arena.

She plans to take on companies like Investment Solutions, Advantage Asset Management, Old Mutual’s Mutual’s SYmmETRY Multi-manager and Sanlam Multi-Managers, who together control about R200bn of the country’s savings.

Wierzycka, an actuary who started her career as an Alexander Forbes consultant, said she believes there is room for a competitor – particularly one that offers greater transparency and lower fees to retirement funds.

“This is a segment of the market where you have very little competition,” she noted.

In addition, the idea is for Sygnia to offer customised multi-manager solutions to pension funds. “With customisation, we don’t squeeze the underlying managers,” Wierzycka said of the way fees are structured.

The aim is to produce better performance, through a combination of a better selection of managers and lower fees.

Sygnia also offers structures that can give retirement funds the risk-return profile of hedge funds without pension funds falling foul of legislation, she said.

Wierzycka is hunting for an additional investment professional to join her team, someone who has been a portfolio manager and knows the right questions to ask other fund managers.

Empowerment will also have to be addressed, she said.

For now, Wierzycka said she is enjoying that “happiness club” feeling that comes with owning a small business where everyone enjoys working together.

Clearly she has her sights set on building a massive organisation because, as she says, a successful multi-manager business requires volumes.

Her competitors should be quivering in their boots. If anyone knows how to attract flows to an asset management company it is Wierzycka.

Glamorous, blonde and undeniably astute, she is known as a master of marketing. The flip side of this is that all these traits, together with her wealth, leave some decidedly green with envy.

She also has a keen understanding of the financial services sector, not least of all that it is one of the most lucrative industries where basis point fees translate into “humungous amounts of money”.

Leaving nothing to chance in her new venture, Wierzycka has hired a London advertising agency to design Sygnia’s logo and help develop its brand.

“We wanted something fresh, modern and that would appeal to institutions and bodies around the world,” she said.

No doubt, the financial services industry is going to be seeing and hearing a lot more from Wierzycka.

* This article about Magda Wierzycka was published by Moneyweb.co.za. You can find the original article here.

Your best money tips, please

Hello all. I’ve got a favour to ask. I’m working on a follow-up to this personal finance piece (see below), published last month on Biznewz.com, and would greatly appreciate hearing your money management tips. I’m looking for fun, unusual and real life dos and don’ts we can all use. Please mail me yours, as soon as you can. Just a line or a quick pointer would be greatly appreciated.

Have a great weekend.

Jackie

5 of the best money tips I’ve ever heard, some in strangest of places

The turning point in my personal financial management didn’t come as a result of an accounting course I took to brush up on my number-crunching skills. Or because of any detailed discussions with financial intermediaries or bank managers in my early years of work.

No, my first and most lasting personal finance lesson was delivered to me in an unmarked police car when I was a crime reporter. The tutor was a detective with a handgun strapped to each of his calves, another tucked into the back of his trousers and who knows where else.

It was about 2am in the morning. We were watching dozens of cops in bullet-proof vests quietly scouring a Hillbrow, Johannesburg street, some slipping into the stairwells of dilapidated apartment blocks, as an anti-drugs police operation kicked into gear.

It was a very exciting event, particularly later when residents accused of being drug dealers were forced out of their slumber, ordered to make themselves decent and frog-marched to armoured vans. The odd gunshot or two punctuated the air, but that’s what you’d expect on any night of the week in Hillbrow.

It was in the slow, quiet build up to the manoeuvre that this policeman shared his tips on how to grow a portfolio of assets out of a limited income. He told me how he managed his own saving and investing strategy.

I won’t go into the full details now, but the main take-aways were these: he had developed a portfolio of residential properties by maintaining a good credit rating, saving deposits and then borrowing money from a bank to fund the balance of his purchases. He had picked his properties with great care in order to secure reliable tenants.

He didn’t buy properties without secure parking, for example, because the most valuable possession a tenant is likely to own is a car, was his thinking. Go for relatively low-maintenance properties and make absolutely sure that the rentals in the area are in line with what you will need to fund the mortgage, was another point he made.

He didn’t sell properties, either. His main aim was develop a passive income stream net of costs.

By getting started as soon as possible after working, he had achieved just that by his early 30s. Just goes to show: you don’t need to be corrupt to build assets as a policeman.

Another person who has given me sound money advice has been my mother-in-law. A bit scatty (in the nicest possible way), and best known for her philosophical thoughts on religious matters, she once offered this pearl: if you possibly can, try to live off one salary before you have children.

This way you can save a lump sum to fund a decent investment later or cater for a period in your life when cash proves to be a bit tight. And, because you are used to living off half of what you earn, it won’t come as a shock when you really do need to be clever with a limited income.

Now, I must confess, although these are some of the best money tips I’ve ever heard, I’ve had some of the lessons reinforced the hard way. For example, I haven’t always bought property with secure parking – and that has generally not been to my advantage.

However, while I am not known for listening attentively to my mother-in-law at the best of times, I have paid heed to that little nugget. It really is amazing how much you can save in a relatively short period if you consistently hive off half your income.

Five great money tips

1. Do whatever it takes to maintain your good reputation for repaying loans and accounts. With a good credit record, it is easier to borrow money from a bank for big asset purchases.
2. Buy property as soon as you can. It is an asset class that can help ordinary salary earners grow their wealth. But it takes time, so you do need to start early.
3. Don’t just buy any property. Research the area, particularly average rentals, so that you can increase your chances of your bond repayments being covered by a tenant.
4. Never buy a property without secure parking. In South Africa, keeping your car safe is more important than a nice garden or a good view.
5. Before you have children, try to live off one salary and save the other. This way you’ll build a nest egg that you can put to good use later – for example, to use as a cash deposit to fund a property purchase – and you can get used to managing your money on a tight budget.

China unpacked; plus an update on an old relationship

When you’re a freelance journalist, no response from a client is usually a good sign – provided, of course, your piece gets published and the editor is keen for you to write more. Editors are busy and few have time to get back to you with some positive affirmation that you are on the right track.

 

So, when I get enthusiastic feedback, it makes my day. Alec Hogg, a South African media entrepreneur and undoubtedly the country’s top business broadcaster, is that rare breed of editor who does take time to acknowledge efforts.

 

At Moneyweb, a media company he started from scratch and got listed on Johannesburg’s stock exchange, he took positive affirmation that step further by sharing the company’s profits through quarterly bonuses based on performance with his team of journalists.

 

Last week, Alec announced that I would be doing some work with him on his exciting new business and investment website, biznewz.biz.

 

I must confess that I was tickled when he posted some flattering commentary about me in the introduction to a piece I wrote. So, please allow me the indulgence of reposting it here. After all, this is my blog…

Jackie Cameron is one of the finest journalists it has been my privilege to work with. Having started life as a crime reporter on a major newspaper, she migrated to deputy on Personal Finance with Bruce Cameron (no relation). Convincing her to come across to Moneyweb was one of my better days. Jackie and I worked together for many years. She has it all – the courage to ask the tough questions up front (you’d be amazed how few journos do); a wonderful writing style; an incredible news-sense; the critical curious gene; and an in-built Bullshit detector with a permanent on-button. She is also consistent. Whether visiting Mrs J Arthur Brown’s pole-dancing studio or blowing off some overfed lawyer’s bluster, Jackie retains the same calm demeanour. Maybe that’s her background covering crime. Or from being a mom. Or perhaps it comes from being married to a globe trotting professor (previously in China, now in Scotland). Whatever the reason, I’m delighted that my friend and long-time colleague has agreed to have some fun with us on Biznewz. Am sure you will be too.               

As for this piece, Jackie put her Chinese residency to good use. She says: “China might be the world’s second-largest economy and an impressive copycat of all things American and European, but don’t be fooled by the cosmetic details. Very little is as it seems in this fascinating land of unrivalled money-making possibilities, as I found when I lived there. After two-and-a-half years in China, I felt like I was leaving another planet to return home.” – AH

Before going to China on business – read this. Tips from one who has lived in the quirky land of opportunity

A cluster of skyscrapers stand together in the Pudong New Area, home of most of the newest buildings in Shanghai. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

By Jackie Cameron*

When you first touch down in Beijing or Shanghai, you could be forgiven for thinking you have landed in a city as easy to get around as New York, Sydney or London. Everything at first glance looks so familiar.

Shimmering glass-and-steel skyscrapers as far as the eye can see appear to be modeled closely on international real estate icons. On the network of multi-lane highways that weave intricately around their lower levels are a proliferation of car makes you see at home.

Then there are the ubiquitous global coffee shop and restaurant chains, with their comforting signage beckoning you in to refuel on tried-and-tested fare. Also putting you at ease, perhaps, are the excesses of luxury European brands: international supermodel faces dominate giant billboards advertising expensive perfume and handbags; loud facades draw fastidiously groomed shoppers into well-stocked stores.

But, don’t be fooled by the trappings of western-style commercialism. It won’t take you long to discover that, while much has changed since communist China opened its doors to the world 30 years ago, the country has evolved with many idiosyncrasies deeply entrenched.

Even seasoned business travel expert Michelle Jolley of Corporate Traveller South Africa admits: ‘China can be a bit of a culture shock, though it is an interesting place to visit. English isn’t widely spoken, not even in the big cities.’

Eat, drink and be merry ― then have a siesta

Menus tend not to be in English. ‘Anything that crawls, slithers, walks or flies is available to eat,’ says the marketing executive, ‘so if you want to sample food like a local, you have to be very adventurous because you may not know what you are chewing on.’

If you have specific meal requirements for religious or health reasons, you might have a job on your hands finding suitable dishes. It is not impossible, though.

Jolley says some high-end restaurants are equipped to cater for these needs. Ask your travel agent to contact your hotel’s concierge in advance to request special meals, she advises.

It is important from a cultural perspective to not be too fussy about what you eat, or how food is eaten, as you could cause offence. As Len Deacon, a Cape Town-based health risk  management specialist with interests in China, notes: important business discussions happen around food in private rooms attached to restaurants.

‘The better negotiations are going, the more lavish ― and exotic ― the meal. Everyone shares out of multiple dishes,’ he says. That often means dipping chopsticks you’ve used to get food into your mouth in and out of communal bowls.

Smokers light up at the table throughout a meal. Your hosts will chew loudly and slurp their tea, and feel free to do the same, as acknowledgement that the food is delicious.

Special toasts are to be knocked back quickly and enthusiastically, however it is socially acceptable to refrain from heavy drinking if you do so back home. Be warned, too: lunch starts early in China, from around 11am and is generally over by 1pm.

When the last dish is done you are expected to immediately leave the table. If you are really culturally sensitive, you will understand your host is likely to enjoy a short post-pranial afternoon power nap, so don’t arrange important meetings around that time. If you do, don’t be surprised if your business counterpart comes across as grumpy.

An Elegant Party (detail), an outdoor painting of a small Chinese banquet hosted by the emperor for scholar-officials from the Song Dynasty (960-1279). Although painted in the Song period, it is most likely a reproduction of an earlier Tang Dynasty (618-907) work of art. The painting is attributed to Emperor Huizong of Song (r. 1100–1125 AD). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Give, give, give ― with both hands

Do pack a large supply of business cards, preferably with one-side printed in Mandarin characters, as you will be expected to present these repeatedly. Says Glenn Ho, head of KPMG’s China Business Desk for South Africa and a regular visitor to China since the late 1970s: “The business etiquette is to hand cards over with both hands and accept cards in a similar manner. Studying cards attentively is also important to show respect.”

Expect to receive gifts, and to disappoint your hosts if you don’t immediately reciprocate with something small that looks like you have brought it for them specially from home. Ho reflects: ‘I remember visiting a large company in China with others from South Africa who had not brought a gift. I suggested that we present my gift, some South African nougat, on behalf of the South African group to avoid any embarrassment.’

Money is handed over with both hands, too. Your credit card will work in some places, but generally expect to work with cash. Jolley, national marketing manager for SA Flight Centre’s Corporate Nation brands, suggests you draw a large wad of notes from an airport ATM when you arrive in the country, as it is not possible to source Renminbi (RMB) in South Africa. US dollars can easily be exchanged for Chinese currency, she says.

Feeling rich, famous and foreign

Although China is awash with pirate copies of Hollywood movies, it is still unusual for locals to see someone who isn’t Chinese in the flesh. Expect to be stared at, photographed and occasionally have your hair stroked, whether you are in the cities or countryside.

Visitors to China will tell you it won’t take long to start feeling like you are as famous as Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt. Occasionally, you may even ponder whether you have arrived from another planet ― which makes China such a fun place to visit, even if you’re on business.

Jolley had such thoughts while recently exploring a hotel room in China. There were gas masks in the cupboard, which she theorised might be for some kind of emergency or pollution overload, while the bathroom held an adventure all of its own.

‘The toilet was ridiculously complex. It had a heated seat and push buttons for hot and cold water and air – and a mechanism to powder your bottom,’ says Jolley with a chuckle.

She described the experience as ‘very strange, but interesting’, rather than enjoyable.

The most sensible way for first-timers to China to get around is like a VIP, says Nick Walker, managing director of Blue Corporate Travel. Taxis are relatively cheap, but opt for a hotel transfer ― which usually comes as a large black luxury car ― for your first journey.

This way you don’t have to immediately start negotiating your way around using your own brand of sign language, translation booklets and the help of passers-by with a smattering of English.

‘You can easily employ translators for a modest day rate who will act as guide, personal assistant and translator,’ he points out. Remember, says Walker, they do not always translate accurately and may miss certain technical nuances.

Make your life easier by staying in a western-style branded hotel. ‘You are more likely to receive the necessary supporting services, from staff who speak English and appreciate the customs of foreigners,’ he says.

Extra insurance for medical purposes, over-and-above what your credit card covers, is also recommended, advise Walker and Jolley. This way you can be certain of receiving first-class care in an international hospital in China, or be flown elsewhere if necessary. Medical costs can easily run into the millions, and treatments and procedures are different from what you might expect back home.

Getting comfortable with China

Business visas can take time to get, and usually require an official letter of invitation ― with a formal stamp ― from a Chinese host, so some executives opt for tourist visas. But, after you have cracked the official nod for the first time, visas are processed more swiftly, reckons Deacon.

The same goes for travelling in China: it gets easier. You will soon be able to communicate some basic pleasantries and instructions in Chinese. You could start to enjoy previously unthinkable delicacies, like pickled ducks’ feet and chillied tree fungus.

You will find yourself holding your position in queues and lifts just as the locals do, in the jostle for space. In time, you might even find you are given a special Chinese name, particularly if yours is a bit of a tongue-twister for a Mandarin speaker, is the message from Walker, whose Chinese name (Ni Ke Xiang) aptly means ‘the one who flies high’.

*  ‘China Unpacked’  is an article that first appeared in Signature magazine earlier this year. Incidentally, Signature also has a wonderful editor. 

Write to me at jackiecameron.uk@gmail.com

Related articles

• Shanghai Tower to be world’s second tallest (thehindu.com)
• China completes world’s 2nd-tallest building in Shanghai (cbc.ca)
• China’s top restaurants reeling over new austerity (kansascity.com)
• What China’s Rich Want: Gold-Plated Cars And Tiger Bits (wnyc.org)
• Why Twitter and Facebook are too late in China – Sam Flemming (chinaherald.net)

Secret of China’s economic success: education

Countries aiming to emulate China’s staggering transformation from one of the world’s poorest nations to one of its largest economies should focus on education, writes Jackie Cameron.

One of the South African government’s biggest embarrassments is its abject failure to provide a high quality education to prepare young citizens for an economically productive adult life.  Now it has strengthened ties with China, South Africa would surely do well to follow many of its big brother’s examples on the educational front.

Many people believe China’s policy of opening up its economy to the world is a major factor in lifting most of its population out of poverty in three decades. But, there’s a case to be made for its education system being just as significant a factor in its turbo-charged growth.

China’s policymakers certainly believe education has been a vital backbone in its economic miracle and say as much in the country’s 10-year education plan. “By means of the development of education, China has transformed from merely being a country with a large population to being a country with powerful human resources,” it notes in the preface.

Although China gives itself a pat on the back for its education system, it is giving it a radical overhaul. This is with a view to bringing it in line with developed world standards as it aims towards being the globe’s best and most influential in science, technology and other sectors of the economy, rather than just being known as the biggest and cheapest. Still, what it has been relying on in recent decades certainly hasn’t been bad, if you consider China’s overall successes.

World Bank data show:

· China has a 94% literacy rate among people over the age of 15, while South Africa’s literacy rate is around 89%;·  China’s poverty ratio has plummeted to below 3% of the population, while South Africa’s stands at roughly a quarter of all people living below the poverty line;·  Life expectancy at birth in China is 73 years, considerably higher than the 52 years you can expect to live in South Africa;

·  South Africans  earn more than the average Chinese – South Africa’s gross national income per capita stood at about US$6000 in 2010, compared to China’s of just over US$ 4000; and

·  About a quarter of South Africans who are able to work are unemployed, while less than 5% of China’s total labour force is unemployed.

So, what are the Chinese getting right that South Africans, and other nations in a similar unemployment and growth rut, should emulate? Here are some obvious areas where we in Africa have room for improvement:

Education is as important as eating

The Chinese value education enormously. After an entire generation was deprived of a decent formal education in the Mao-led Cultural Revolution years of the 1960s and 1970s, there is a huge appreciation for the opportunity to learn and obtain qualifications.

China has instituted compulsory free education for nine years across the country and continually improved access to education in rural areas with the help of organisations like the World Bank and the UK’s Department for International Development. Tibet is the first to offer 15 years of free schooling, including preschool, it was announced this week.

Vocational training and skills upgrading is a feature of China’s system. Everyone – not just those who are academically able – is encouraged to get an education in order to be productive.

South Africans were also deprived of a quality education during those same Cultural Revolution years because of apartheid. Yet we don’t have the same national enthusiasm for making up for it now.

There’s a logjam in the system. We have new generation of young political leaders and government officials coming up through the ranks who don’t have the inclination, or the wherewithal, to deliver a high quality education any more than their predecessors.

China spends at least 3.5% of its Gross Domestic Product (GDP) on education. South Africa spends a higher chunk of its GDP on education, but this 5% is seen as a rotten investment. Many blame the switch to so-called outcomes-based education.

In China, more important than the money is that education as a strategic priority is emphasised from the highest echelons of political power down to party committees and local governments. There’s a feedback loop and consequences for officials who don’t meet specific targets.

Popularising higher education

China encourages its citizens to dig into their own pockets to pay for the best higher education money can buy.  The Chinese save, save, save to put their only children through the best universities in China.

Those who can afford it, and who can bear to be away from their offspring for several years, send them to universities around the world. China is a major source of international university student intakes in the US and elsewhere.

Postgraduate qualifications are vitally important. Some argue that there are now too many Chinese students leaving universities with postgraduate degrees. Nevertheless, the appetite for higher education is a sign that university degrees are highly sought-after and valued.

Chinese leaders, like former president Hu Jintao, regularly emphasise their own educational qualifications. Former premier Wen Jiabao was constantly on the road, visiting education institutions and urging citizens to embrace the highest standards.

Perhaps it is time for some of our own political leaders to go to night school to improve their academic credentials and generally market the benefits of high quality education?

Respect

Chinese teachers are tough, strict, and have the power to discipline, with the sweetest young women turning into textbook tyrants.  What’s more, their pupils are expected to respect them.

Use a bad word or sound slightly cocky to your Chinese teacher, and you can expect harsh punishment – usually in the form of even more homework or a cancelled school break. No doubt this respect for teachers helps keep pupils chained to their desks day-and-night.

South Africa has enormous problems with its teaching staff. Many aren’t qualified. Some blame this on poor salaries.

Chinese teachers aren’t particularly well paid either. Yet, in the main Chinese teachers take their jobs seriously and are seen as vitally important pillars of society.

Treat ‘em mean

In China, pupils who don’t finish their work in the teaching session can expect to stay behind and continue on the project in your recess. Homework is a serious business; even five-year-olds can expect up to two-hours a day of reading, writing and arithmetic practice at home after a seven- or eight-hour school day.

The work ethic is incredibly strong among the Chinese young and it is paying off.  Chinese students caused a stir when they put their counterparts from Europe to shame in a computerised, standardised test of international student skills delivered by the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development.  China is moving up the ranks among countries publishing the most academic articles in science.

I’m not in favour of tortuous rote-learning. At the very least, though, there’s a case to be made for getting into some kind of disciplined work routine in place so that it feels normal to roll up your sleeves and get on with it later on.

Jackie Cameron, writer.

* This article was first published at moneyweb.co.za, a leading South African news website, and later republished on garethsfirstlaw.blogspot.co.uk in 2012. Write to freelance journalist Jackie Cameron, at jackiecameron.uk@gmail.com

Related articles

• A Quarter of Chinese Startups Are Founded by Overseas Returnees; Is That a Problem? (techinasia.com)
• Fixing China’s image in Africa, one student at a time (guardian.co.uk)
• China: Just as Desperate for Education Reform as the U.S. (business.time.com)
• A Promising Future for Africa? (thejakartaglobe.com)
• Getting US education to China – Shaun Rein (chinaherald.net)