Akyire, Africa*

These last few weeks have been full of goodbyes. Our clients knew very early how long we would be here, but when I reminded them, the disappointment was clear.  We are no longer just coaches.  We are now part of their teams – their confidants and tormentors.  I feel more than a little guilty.  Nine months is enough time to form a deep bond, but not to transform a company.

SEED put on a nice party for Terry and me the day before departure. The CEOs stood up and gave testimonials.  They were lavish in their praise of us.  It was humbling.  The reality is that THEY did the work.  We ran up and down the sidelines, shouting a tip here, suggesting a play there.  But it’s their game.  We just coached a couple of periods.  It’s an honor that we get to be a tiny part of their success stories.

I came here to use my experience to mentor leaders and their companies. I’m the one who learned the most, however.  I learned that the poorest can be the most generous.  That Ghanaians apologize when YOU sneeze.  I understand that tribal pride runs deep, but when the Black Stars play the U.S. team, there is only one Ghana.  And why “Nyame Adom” (by the grace of God) is a standard response to “How are you?”

The best lesson has been patience. I learned that waiting until 3:00 for your 1:00 appointment to show up is only a small part.  It’s not just sitting in crazy traffic without road rage.  Patience is accepting that even when it stands still, time continuously changes everything.  It carries us all along, embraces us, and then discards us.  Sorrow and joy ebb and flow in our lives.  Happiness is a cool breeze that freshens and then drifts away.  I want to hold that clarity as I return my life in the U.S.  I need to have faith that the guy in the SUV will eventually notice the light has been green for a while.

“The day will still end.” – African Proverb

“The sun will come up tomorrow.” – Annie

Well, tomorrow the sun will come up for me in the U.S. I’ll have a dose of “reverse culture shock” and alienation, like the character in “Hurt Locker” returning home.  A week later, I’ll finish out my malaria medicine.  Two weeks after that, my friends will shake my hand again, assured that I don’t have Ebola.  But Ghana has gotten under my skin and changed me in ways I don’t yet understand.  I’m different – I just don’t know how.  I hope it lasts.

“Such a long, long time to be gone and a short time to be there.” – Phil Lesh

 

* "See you later, Africa"

Our Disease

The news reports from the US play a repeating duet: Ebola and ISIS.  The sound bites on Ebola continuously refer to “West Africa.”  Occasionally the worst hit countries are mentioned, like footnotes:  Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea.  So much more convenient for commentators to just say “West Africa” and paint ‘em all with the same brush.  This is lazy and misleading reporting that has only fueled Americans’ traditional xenophobic tendencies.

Other countries were infected. Senegal has had one case.  One.  They are now close to “clean” by WHO standards (no active cases in 2x incubation period:  42 days).  Nigeria, where we feared the disease might bring us to Armageddon, has brought it under control.  It is no longer an issue there.

So why are so many (including U.S Senators) in the States saying that we should ban all flights from West Africa? I am due to return to the US this Friday.  I’m fighting a head cold.  Will I be turned away?  I currently live in a West African country that has had fewer Ebola cases than the US.  Ghana has had zero reported cases.  Over a hundred people were tested, all negative.

My in-laws have been concerned for my safety since I started on this journey. When I was back in Boise for home leave, we took them out for their 70th anniversary. As I hugged my mother-in-law goodbye, she told me in an “enough-of-this-nonsense” tone that there are people in the US who need help.  After I left, Linda had to take her mother to hospital where she spent 6 days recovering from fever, nausea, and diarrhea.  It was salmonella from the restaurant she chose for her anniversary meal. About 400 people per year die from salmonella in the US.  Perhaps a travel ban for chickens?

I stopped travel to Nigeria after my last trip in late July. They were near their peak for active cases.  This was not for fear of catching the disease, but rather a concern for being caught on the wrong side of a border closure.  My colleague left her client in Liberia a mere 18 hours before the border closed.  I did, however travel to Cote d’Ivoire 2 weeks ago, my final visit to an excellent client.

Cote d’Ivoire shares a border with 2 of the worst-hit countries in this epidemic. They have been very serious about procedures since the outset.  At the airport this time, they shot a temperature sensor at my forehead and made me use hand sanitizer as I came off the plane.  On my return, the Ghanaian airport authorities did this and also requested my seat number.

Based on ECOWAS membership, “West Africa” consists of 15 countries. 3 of them are enduring a catastrophic human tragedy because of Ebola.  Calling out all of West Africa does a disservice to the hard work all countries are doing to keep it from entering (or exiting!) their borders.  I’ve made a habit of being very critical of the corrupt ineptitude of governments in this part of the world, but in this instance, they might actually be doing their jobs well.

So do we just ban those from Liberia, Guinea, and Sierra Leone? It’s a huge risk for health workers to go there to help.  Yet they leave their security and their families and go.  Who would possibly go if they knew they couldn’t come home?  How fast and how far would the disease spread with no one to help in the hot zone?  The borders are porous.  People will find a way out and be impossible to monitor.

The effect of this lazy reporting is worse than just bad press. This categorical dismissal of an entire economic region discourages investment and isolates West Africa at a time when it is poised to sustain itself.  It is wrong, just as classifying AIDS as a “gay disease” was wrong.  Ebola is not a “West African disease,” it is a deadly epidemic causing tremendous suffering in Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea.  We’ve seen that it can and will spread beyond those countries.  We must do all we can to help defeat it, because it’s always been “our disease.”

It’s Not Just an Adventure, It’s a Job

Every morning, at exactly 6AM, sunlight comes crashing through my curtains. No daylight savings time here.  At the equator it’s always the same.  It brings the daily crisis of self-confidence.  Just what am I doing here?  Is it making a difference?  Where’s the coffee?  I try to push away self-doubt until after my second cup.

Our visionary Executive Director, Tralance Addy, fired us up back in January, telling us that we are to help these leaders and companies “transform” – grow many times over to build more and better jobs in West Africa.  Great.  THIS is why I came.   He also said something very terrifying.  “You are all pilots of your own planes.  You decide the flight plan to get there.”  This is a brand new program and a groundbreaking model for stimulating growth.  There’s no recipe.  Best practices come from the outgoing coaches and our colleagues who all got dropped into the same hangar.  Personal initiative takes on a whole new meaning.

During the first of four transformation sessions in the SEED curriculum we are all introduced to new ways of thinking about product design, leadership and supply chains. It is a bucket of cold water dumped down the backs of the unsuspecting CEOs of the cohort.  Some are expecting a comfortable string of training sessions that end with notebooks and a certificate so they can ultimately forget the whole thing.

Tralance dispels all that in the first half hour by zeroing in on the opportunity in front of them. He’s very direct about what is holding these West African entrepreneurs back – whether outside their spheres of influence or inside their heads.  Novice coaches facilitate the breakout sessions to work the problems the Stanford faculty has tuned to their needs.  At the same time, it’s a speed dating marathon.  The company leaders identify their top choices for coaches.  Separately and anonymously, we choose where we think we’ll fit best.  SEED management churns on these choices and matches us up as best they can.

Then what?

The first step is diagnosis. Not so much what is “wrong” with the company, but what do they need to transform and grow by leaps and bounds?  Is it factory expansion?  Marketing strategy?  Financing is popular topic here.  How do we figure it out?  I decided to go with my strong suit:  ignorance.  I ask questions.  Lots of them.  It turns out you have to dig through layers.  Production, marketing, accounting, finance, family – one or all of these things are either holding them back or putting them on the fast track to collapse.  There are a number of things outside of their control:  the ham-handed tactics of the governments, impassable roads, a poor education system, and so on.  You can’t go through these, only around.

The fun begins when you start engaging the whole organization. Pulling the Managing Director into a brainstorming session with production workers is a study in contrasts.  For a coach, the first 30 minutes are excruciatingly uncomfortable.  Everyone wants the big guy to speak, but you’ve told him/her beforehand to keep quiet and let the team bring out the ideas.  I’ve used a number of techniques:  calling on unsuspecting victims, telling stories, grilling the CEO, and yes, “shaking it out.”  As corny as it sounds, getting adults to stand up, shake and wriggle changes the energy in the room.

Ready to brainstorm with the whole organization.  Hijinks ensue.

Ready to brainstorm with the whole organization. Hijinks ensue.

One on one discussions are also a good way to assess where you can help the organization. Again, the beginning is terrifying for both of us.  Fortunately, I’ve found that most people can only endure about 15 minutes of awkwardness before they open up.  Sometimes the floodgates REALLY open and you get coaching overload.  Best to just listen and not go into problem solving mode.  A lot of people hate their boss, and you’re not here to fix that.

As an Ops/R&D guy, product design is my passion and factories are my Disneyland. I’m able to pull on all I’ve learned from years of walking through precise Asian factories to help improve substantially lower tech processes.  It’s a kick to hear that your suggestion helped a manufacturer build a subassembly 14 times faster, with better quality than before you came.  I skipped back to my hotel when I heard that one.

It’s even more gratifying to help in areas beyond my corporate experience. I’ve found myself coaching salesmen in the art of closing deals.  Most of these CEOs are profoundly courageous entrepreneurs with great ideas.  Accounting and market segmentation skills didn’t get them where they are.  But they’ll need them to grow at the rates we’re chasing.  That’s why we’re here.

The transformation visions are all different, just like the businesses and CEOs. But there are some common elements.  Their growth needs to bring more and better jobs to West Africa.  Positive impact on society and public infrastructure are key.  We test our work against those objectives.  We know that 9 or 12 months is not enough time to bring these to fruition.  I’m now transitioning all my clients to brand new coaches.  Later they’ll do the same.  We push our clients beyond the day to day crises of small business.  My favorite role as business coach was named by Tralance:  we are “tormentors.”  We will not let our clients settle for “enough is good enough.”

I love my job.

Flipcharts, markers & tape - the SEED coaching toolkit..Photo courtesy of Andy Meade

Flipcharts, markers & tape – the SEED coaching toolkit.          Photo courtesy of Andy Meade

 

Power

Big rainstorm this morning. A great, huge, the-rainy-season-is-not-going-away-without-a-fight storm.  The next thing is predictable, it’s just a matter of when.  Sure enough, just as I’m getting ready to back up my computer, there is a “lights out,” the local euphemism for a power outage.  A second later the huge diesel generator in the parking lot thunders to life.  But still no lights.  In our apartments, we have to go out into the stairwell and twist a huge switch to the backup generator setting.  Ready to rock.  But…wait for it…  Our outages always come in pairs.  Once the grid is re-established, they turn off the generator, everything shuts down until we flip the switch back.  This morning I forgot this quirk and tried to restart my backup too soon.  Now Windows is off licking its wounds.

When I ask the leaders of my client companies what should be the highest priority for government to stimulate business growth, they say one word: “Power.”  They rank it above education, roads, and employment programs.  Ghana has a huge hydroelectric plant near Lake Volta, one of the largest manmade lakes in the world.  At one time, they made so much power that they sold about 25% to neighboring countries.  Now they cannot keep up with growth.  To run a manufacturing or data center operation, an apartment complex, or even a modern household, you must have a generator.

The generator at Stanford SEED

The generator at Stanford SEED

Size matters. Some of my clients are constrained from adding critical equipment because their generators are too small.  Some can work around it:  when you’re blowing plastic bottles, you turn off the filler.  It gives a different sort of twist to production process analysis.  Since the power is not clean some other strange things happen.  When one of the “legs” of a 3-phase supply is too low, machines can run backwards.  This can be slightly humorous and messy for a bottling machine, evoking images of Lucy and Ethel.  However, it can be downright life-threatening when operating a saw.  And it’s no laughing matter when an expensive computer circuit packs it in from all the abuse.

During one of my business trips to Nigeria, I decided to count the outages one day. I gave up after a dozen.  The wry joke there is that you buy a big generator for your business and use the national grid as backup.   They all run on diesel, which is a significant budget item for most companies.  An internet service provider or anyone whose business must have uninterrupted power doesn’t even bother hooking to the grid.  The generator runs 24×7.  This puts significant pressure on costs and the environment.

Where there is challenge, opportunity blooms. We have visited villages that are not even bothering with the national grid nor diesel-generated electricity.  They are working directly with solar power and are able to keep phones charged and small computers up and online for classrooms.  Perhaps the paucity of power supplied by utilities companies will make solar a “leapfrog technology.”  Dump the diesel, reap the African sun.

The library at Asiafo Amanfro Community School.  Solar Charging for the computer lab

The library at Asiafo Amanfro Community School. Solar Charging for the computer lab