Kenyans are some of the most “hardworking” people you’ll ever meet—at least by our own standards. We open early. We close late. We stay on our feet for 10 hours. We invest in stalls, shop decor, uniforms. We show up.
But are we really working hard, or just working long?
It’s a difficult question, but an important one. Because the real measure of hard work isn’t just effort—it’s care. It’s curiosity. It’s the willingness to understand your customer, stretch your thinking, and go beyond routine.
Scenario 1: The Liquor Store That Never Asks
In Nairobi’s estates, liquor stores are everywhere. Picture one in Kinoo. A man walks in, clearly about to host people—he buys multiple bottles, some mixers, maybe even ice. The shopkeeper packs his items and tells him the total. Transaction over.
But what if the conversation went differently?
“Mnaenda out ama kuna bash?”
“Ah, kuna bash kwa nyumba.”
“Uko sawa na ice ama unahitaji zingine? Na maybe ka-vape ama soft drinks kwa wasee hawatumii?”_
Instead, we stop at the basics. We assume selling is enough. We rarely follow up. We don’t even ask for names or feedback or create a simple loyalty card.
There was an opportunity not just to upsell—but to connect. What if the shop had a simple loyalty program: "Buy five, get a discount on the sixth." Or offered free delivery above a certain spend? What if they texted regulars when there’s a special deal or asked for feedback on new stock?
Instead, it’s business as usual: wait for the customer, take the money, hope they come back.
So yes, we’re open. But we’re not learning. We're not connecting. And we’re leaving money and relationships on the table.
Scenario 2: The Shoe Shop That Doesn’t Speak
You walk into a shoe shop in town. You're obviously scanning shelves, unsure, in need of guidance. The attendants are there—sitting, chatting, or half-watching TikToks behind the counter. No one asks if the shoes are for walking, for a formal event, or even if you’ve heard of their latest comfort sole series.
They do not upsell. They do not recommend care products. They don’t even point you to the sales section unless you ask. They are physically present. That’s it.
Maybe you are looking for sturdy walking shoes under KES 3,000.
You find a beautiful pair going for KES 3,500. You hesitate. If someone told you, “We recycle old pairs and give discounts on new ones,” or “We support local greening projects with every purchase,” that KES 500 would feel less like strain and more like investment. You wouldn’t be buying just a shoe—you’d be buying shared values.
Hardworking? Maybe. But useful? Not really. If the shoes don’t fit—or wear out quickly—you probably won’t come back. And they won’t know why.
Scenario 3: The Hidden Gem That Wants to Stay Hidden
There’s a beautiful restaurant in Kikuyu. Gorgeous garden space. Breezy air. Clean, well-made food. Good prices. It’s the kind of place you’d imagine full of life—birthdays, baby showers, chama meetings, families on slow Sundays. It has garden seating, a kids’ corner, freshly made juices, and good coffee. But unless you stumble upon it—like I did—you’ll never know it exists.
There are ads inside the compound. Yes—inside. Beautiful posters of coffees and juices. But no sign by the road. No banner near the bypass. No posters in local estates.
On Google Maps, they’re listed, but no recent updates. No posted events. No pictures of birthday setups or weekend brunches. And the reviews? Some are glowing. Others are curious. None get replies.
This is a place perfect for baby showers, chama meetings, or quiet family dates. But their core audience—working parents, family planners, elderly people—aren’t scrolling Instagram for lunch spots. They need direction. Visibility. A whisper from a friend. A leaflet. A photo on WhatsApp. A poster on a local notice board.
They might think they’re working hard—and in many ways, they are. But that’s the problem. Hard work with no strategy, no human insight, no follow-through, is wasted sweat.
Scenario 4: The "Digital" Business That Refuses to Talk
You walk into a new boutique in Ngong. Trendy clothes. Reasonable prices. You ask about available sizes or colors. They respond: "Check our Instagram."
You didn’t find them on Instagram. You were walking by. But now they want you to find a handle, scroll posts, maybe DM—and wait.
Why? Because they assume being online replaces human engagement. Because someone told them social media is the future. But if your walk-in customer is met with distance, you’re sabotaging your now for a digital maybe.
Scenario 5: The Perfume Shop That Meets Loyalty With Silence
In Moi Avenue, there’s a small perfume shop. Lovely imported bottles. Loyal, local clientele. One customer walks in every other month and spends over KES 6,000 on gifts and self-care. One day, she brings her sister. They browse, they chat, they buy.
Not once does the attendant say, “We appreciate you bringing someone new—have a free tester or mini-spray.” No hand-written thank-you note, no loyalty card, not even a simple message the following week to say, “We’ve restocked your favorite scent.”
What about offering small samples wrapped in recycled cloth bags with a note that says, “We’re working to reduce waste. Thanks for supporting us”?
Suddenly, the store has a soul. A story. A customer now feels seen.
You may think that offering free samples or handwritten notes is unnecessary. But people remember care. You’re not selling perfume. You’re building trust. Every small gesture is a seed for deeper loyalty.
We’re not lazy. We’re stuck in surface-level work. We don’t dig deeper. We don’t question. We don’t listen. We confuse presence for productivity and wonder why we’re stuck.
This isn't about adding bells and whistles. It's about paying attention.
We live in a country where we mistake activity for productivity. Where having a poster on Instagram replaces building relationships with actual customers. Where being on Google Maps with no reviews, no updates, no interaction still feels like “digital marketing.”
What’s missing is Curiosity. Care. Connection.
If you're running a business—whether it’s a nail parlor in Umoja or a butchery in Githurai—ask yourself:
Do I know the stories of my customers?
Am I showing up with purpose—or just filling time?
Am I waiting for business or creating it?
Do I know my regulars?
- Do I follow up after a big order?
-
Do I treat a new guest brought in by a loyal customer like a VIP?
-
Do I reward repeat customers, or do I only chase likes on social media?
Smart work is not about fancy apps or having the most capital. It’s about curiosity. Follow-through. Creativity. And care.
A cup of coffee with a cookie. A handwritten note. A tasting event for loyal customers before launching a new menu. A WhatsApp broadcast reminding people of offers—not an Instagram post they’ll never see. These are not grand gestures. They are real, human business.
So yes, you can be hardworking and lazy at the same time. You can show up every day and still fail to grow. Because effort without insight is not excellence—it’s just exhaustion.
What Could Be
-
Call your regulars when you launch a new product. Don’t just post it.
-
Offer value-aligned benefits: a tree planted, a student helped, a recycled bottle used.
-
Surprise with small gestures: A handwritten note. A free cookie with coffee. A thank-you for bringing a friend.
-
Upsell with intelligence: If it’s a party, offer supplies. If it’s a date, offer packaging. If it’s frequent visits, offer convenience.
You don’t need a bigger budget. You need a bigger heart. A sharper eye. A deeper commitment to the people who are already choosing you.
Mantra
Showing up is not enough. Showing care is what makes the difference.
Remember
Hard work isn’t measured by hours spent. It’s measured by the impact you create and the relationships you build.
💬 What’s one business you admire because they go the extra mile?
👉 Read more real talk at kenyaonashoestring.co.ke
☕ Support the mission at coff.ee/kenyaonashoestring
📲 Join the WhatsApp community for updates, mantras, and reflections: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029Vb6exSUElagyhwBnG536
Comments
Post a Comment