Sylvester Ojenagbon

I remember very well when I walked into this dry-cleaning outfit in Ilupeju, Lagos sometime last year and met a woman who I later discovered owned the business. She was quite cheerful and nice, and was trying to sell some clothes to me. But I had only gone to pick up the suits I had dropped in the place for dry-cleaning some days earlier, so did not have any money on me to buy anything even if I wanted to. Not wanting to leave her high and dry after so much effort to make me see the clothes, at least, I made her an offer:

“Madam, why not display some of them here, maybe I could pick up one or two next time I come around.”

“Unfortunately, we won’t be here anymore,” she sighed.

“Why won’t you be here anymore?” I asked.

“Doing business in this environment has been tough,” she said. “There is hardly ever light to do anything. But we were surviving on diesel before this scarcity started; now we can’t find it to buy any longer even when we are willing to pay through our nose for it. And we have deadlines to meet. So, my brother, we are closing shops any moment from now.”

That was a familiar story, one that has come to live with us. Businesses start and close down as a routine in our environment due to avoidable circumstances. And this has little or nothing to do with the global economic recession. But what made her own particularly pathetic, however, was the fact that she was based in England. She wanted to establish some roots here, hence she set up the dry-cleaning business. Although the management of the business was good, there was hardly anything anyone could do about the external factors that had seen the demise of uncountable businesses – lack of constant power supply.

So, this woman who was based in England, but who was trying to spread her tentacles to her fatherland and be helpful one way or the other, was being forced to close down the little business she had established and which obviously was meeting a need in the community. As it were, it was more profitable for her to bring in anything from abroad – candles, generators, torch lights, clothes, and sell to recoup her money. The question is: where does that leave us as a people? Where does it leave our existing industries? And where does it leave our economy?

In the five years or so I had known this particular dry-cleaning outfit, I had thoroughly enjoyed their services. Although they were not as big and expensive as the leading dry-cleaning outfits in Ilupeju, everyone who used the place had something good to say about them. And now this threat! Though I was meeting this woman for the first time, my heart went out to her in prayers.

Since then, every time I passed by the place, I always remembered to check whether or not they were still there. As one month turned to two and two to three, then four, five, six and even seven, I heaved a sigh of relief, thinking that things had improved. Well, that was until last Sunday when I wanted to dry-clean some clothes. I half expected that the shop would not be open, because it was a Sunday, but what I meant there shocked me beyond words. The half-side of the ground floor of the building the business used to occupy was bare. In fact, one could see through the glass panels that served as the walls of the office from one end to the other. From the look of things, they had been closed for a long time. And there was no sign anywhere to indicate that they had moved. For all I care, this woman could have established a food processing factory, a textile manufacturing company or even a candle manufacturing company and it would still have gone the same way the dry-cleaning business went.  

Then I remembered my friend and his wife who started their bridals’ outfit over seven years ago. At the outset, it was great dreams, lots of excitement and unrestrained diligence. They promised to give all the popular foreign bridal labels a run for their money by making quality bridals locally. And it looked like they would! In no time, they had carved a niche for themselves. Then the power problem accentuated and they had to scoop out money to buy a generator big enough to carry all their machines. Of course, that pushed up the prices of their products. Then came a spate of diesel scarcity. But they had to meet growing demands, or how do you explain to someone who is getting married that her wedding gown would not be ready because there was no electricity to do or finish her gown?

Somewhere along the line, the dream of opening shops in the neighbouring countries, and even Dubai, where they had already carried out feasibility studies, died – naturally. Why? Because it was becoming much more economical to bring in bridal gowns from China than make them in Nigeria. So, after all the investments in industrial sewing machines and all, my friend has joined the queue for import business instead of exporting. And it seems that as long as there is free oil money in Niger Delta, nobody is interested in opening doors of opportunity for industries or businesses to thrive and even encourage the exportation of other commodities.

A newspaper investigation last year revealed that most of the surviving industries in Kano were relocating to Ghana as a result of unreliable power supply and the consequent stifling of businesses. Only last month, operators of businesses at the Calabar Free Trade Zone threatened to close shops or sell at very exorbitant prices, as 87 per cent of production time was being sustained through the use of generating sets. No wonder among the top seven reasons why businesses fail in Nigeria, poor power supply stands conspicuously at Number 2 on Vickywebworldlist. Yet, our leaders would rather play the ostrich than sincerely confront the power problem.

Pray, what happened to the state of emergency Umaru Musa Yar’Adua promised to declare once he became President? The last time Goodluck Jonathan made reference to it, he said this government did not want to declare a state of emergency on a problem they did not fully understand. How naïve! It is only in this part of the world people beg to be given a chance to solve a problem, get the opportunity by hook or crook, and then turn around to say they do not know anything about the problem they swore to provide a solution to. About two years down the line, it is no wonder that Yar’Adua is still setting targets in the power sector and overturning them with reckless abandon.

Robot  # 1 | 11.06.2009 17:12

Sylvester Ojenagbon I remember very well when I walked into this dry-cleaning outfit in Ilupeju, Lagos sometime last year and met a woman whom I later discovered owned the business. She was quite cheerful and nice, and was trying to sell some clothes to me. But I had only gone to pick up the suits I had dropped in the place for dry-cleaning some days earlier, so did not have any money on me to buy anything even if I wanted to. Not wanting to leave her high and dry after so much effort to make me see the clothes, at least, I made her an offer: “Madam, why not display some of them here, maybe I could pick up one or two next time I come around.” “Unfortunately, we won’t be here anymore,” she sighed. “Why won’t you be here anymore?” I asked. “Doing business in this environment has been tough,” she said. “There is hardly ever light to do anything. But we were surviving on diesel before this sc...Read the full article.