About four weeks after Mama Kizza opened her restaurant she told us she needed loan to pay off two months of rent arrears to her landlord. Apparently he had raised the rent from 60,000 to 70,000 Ugandan Shillings per month (28$) and was demanding payment immediately. This was not the first time we have been requested for money to pay off Mama Kizza’s debts and often in the past we have refused yet she has always survived so I was reluctant to change policy now. Having said that the lead up to the launch of her restaurant seems to have been a particularly challenging period for Mama Kizza – her house flooded in December and over Christmas she fell sick with malaria. In the meantime fourteen year old Kizza looked after the other three children. He brought in the house’s only income of less than 1$ per day picking the limbs of grasshoppers which are then prepared as a local delicacy.
Kizza’s family are the only Ugandan members of the Xavier Project, and I would like to start with their story in this journal because the ups and downs of their struggle are as dramatic as any of those faced by our refugee members. They exemplify many of the vulnerabilities of those stuck in the daily grind of poverty and yet on a daily basis amaze me with their determination and resourcefulness. A series of misfortunes have set them back during the time we have known them. Firstly, a previously existing father-figure was causing them troubles when I first met the family and this was one of the initial reasons why Kizza was not in school – there was no one to pay the minimal primary school fees (100$ per year at the time). Then Kizza fell very sick with cerebral malaria and his mother put all her savings into his medical fees. This left Kizza with severe memory problems (he is no longer really able to manage in an academic setting) but also left the family out of any resources to pay rent so they were kicked out of their home. Their new house was in a marshy area of Kampala which increased the risk of others catching malaria, and increased the risk of flooding which would have a further effect on their health and their capacity to do anything.
From this point Mama Kizza found temporary employment as a washerwoman and as a maid, but it never lasted long, and the reasons listed always put the blame on the employer. Based on some small loans and grants from the Xavier Project Mama Kizza did eventually build up the prospects of her family selling second hand clothes in Owino market in Kampala but when the whole market burnt down in a suspected arson attack her hopes again took a turn for the worse. At this stage, when we were repeatedly asked to step in I was also starting to lose hope in this family’s ability to stand on their own feet. I now know from closely monitoring the new restaurant that it was not for lack of trying that Mama Kizza seemed to always land again at rock bottom, but a series of misfortunes. However, when Edgar and I called her to our office in November to see if she had any entrepreneurial ideas I really did not believe that this meek creature would be able to make anything of our investment. Against my better judgement we issued a $100 grant (not even a loan) as capital to open a small restaurant in Nsambya Kevina. I left Kampala with Mama Kizza in the capable hands of her mentor, Edgar.
When I came back in January Edgar said we should go and check up on Mama Kizza. I didn’t even think she would have found a place to rent yet, but when we arrived in kevina I was shocked to see Kizza and his sister Gloria waving me into a little porta-cabin on the side of the road. ‘Hello brudda, hello brudda, come and eat with us!’ Inside a room no bigger than a tool-shed I found Mama Kizza bent double over a charcoal stove and round the only table were two Ugandan men devouring beans and posho. I was very impressed but to attract attention they needed to decorate it, both inside and outside, because at the moment it still looked like a slum hut. Two weeks later when I returned Edgar had mobilised our young kids and they had painted the hut in brilliant blue with the words ‘Restaurant, for breakfast, CHAI, lunch, supper’ written in red.
I think from that point on I became Mama Kizza’s most extravagant customer, bringing guests from all over Kampala to eat at her restaurant, but at the same time I could see that taxi drivers, and local businessmen were eating there almost as loyally. And Mama Kizza told us the business was a huge success so when she asked for another loan to cover her rent I was a little disappointed. What about the profits from this business? Mama Kizza said she wasn’t sure if the profits would cover the demands of her increasingly strict landlord so we decided to do some analysis to determine whether she would be able to meet his demands. This accidentally brought about a study which gave me a fascinating insight into the financial life of someone living below the poverty line.
Edgar and I gave Mama Kizza an accounts book, and asked her to record every transaction she made. In other microfinance projects that we set up we encourage the proprietors to keep their business accounts separate from their personal finances. However, since Mama Kizza was the sole proprietor of her business and her family were so intertwined in it we decided that she should not separate the two. In fact, one of the business’ great bonuses is that every day she is able to feed all her children on the left over food from the restaurant. Two weeks later we returned again to the restaurant to have a look at her records. Everyday Mama Kizza had quite significant expenses for her business, usually exceeding 20,000 UGX which was spent on food, but on most days her sales covered this. She would keep a record of her balance at the end of the day, and on most days it went up. On Sundays it went up radically, a pattern we put down to the fact that other local restaurants were closed and people were coming back from church. As a result on both Sundays she put her excess balance into an informal savings cooperative, which we discovered she has actually been a member of for many years. What was most interesting was that apart from these outgoings there were hardly any costs. On one occasion she accounted for 500 shillings phone credit and on another day she had to spend about 3000 shillings (1.25$) on other household goods, but apart from this she did not spend any money. This might be explained by the fact that out of 14 days she had worked 13 of them and the reason she had not worked on the 14th day was because we had called her for a meeting at our office at 2pm – the worst possible time for her business and since she had no one to help her she had to lock up the restaurant for the day! (‘Monday was very bad for business brudda’). On some days she would only make about $1 profit, and the reason for this is that she charges way too little – 2000 UGX for beef, rice and matoke (savoury bananas). But if she could do this consistently it would just about meet her other expenses.
We decided that with the Sunday boosters she would eventually be able to pay off her debts, and so it was better for her to owe money to us than a threatening landlord. However, we decided to go half way and give her a loan of $24 which she could give to her landlord (half of what she owed him) and pay us back in two months time. This time I really think we might see that money again but I’ll let you know how it goes. By the way, I really recommend the beef and matoke – if you’re ever passing the T-Juntion to Ave Maria road in Kevina, don’t fail to drop into the blue box.
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