How different it could have been. Property’s loss could have been the theater’s gain. Believe it or not, if she hadn’t become a property queen, Pam Golding wanted to be a singer and dancer in cabaret.
“I love dancing, music and singing!” she says of her little-known longing for the limelight.
Golding’s millionaire career, too, started out on a small stage in the 1960s in Kenilworth, Cape Town, with a handful of agents selling houses around the corner—the first of which was a cottage. The business now has 300 offices; 2,500 agents and 30,000 properties, including a French château. It is the fruit of the forceful approach of a woman who invested in difficult times in South Africa’s history when companies like Barclays and General Motors were pulling out. As the world locked South Africa with economic sanctions, Golding was opening an office in London, selling South African properties.
<div id="attachment_1002" style="width: 235px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-1002" class="wp-image-1002 size-medium" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Pam-as-a-young-woman-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" />Golding as a young woman</div>
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“I started the company when South Africa was going through a recession and people said I was crazy to go on my own. But I rarely take notice of things such as recessions! I was determined to succeed and that is half the battle already won,” says Golding.
It was this drive that led to a strategic alliance with Savills—a property group based in the United Kingdom with more than 200 offices around the world. This alliance has helped Golding expand in the international market.
“Ms Pam Golding is a pioneering business woman who has built a formidable international business. She stands as a testament of the capability of women and as a role model for all those women who have what it takes but may be unsure about going into business,” says Kunyalala Maphisa, president of the Business Woman’s Association of South Africa.
It all sprang from humble beginnings. Golding, who is part of South Africa’s real estate royalty, attended the Collegiate School for girls in Port Elizabeth, before earning a degree from the University of Cape Town. Her early working days were spent selling the Treasure Casket children’s books door-to-door. With the commission she earned she took her mother on a trip to England. With time, she developed a knack for selling, which gave birth to her real estate career.
There was humility too. Golding’s husband, Cecil, had to persuade her to name the company after herself. More than 30 years later, the Pam Golding Group sells everything from franchises to hotels and has turned over more than $1.48 billion for the financial year, ended February 2012.
The franchising of Pam Golding Properties helped the company expand. The franchisees are given management training and support through the Pam Golding Training Academy. The group’s current CEO, Dr Andrew Golding, feels that franchising is not about saturating the market but rather about filling a gap.
Pam Golding Property Management Services manages 150 schemes at a market value of more than $1.46 billion. Golding herself has taken a step back from the business but remains its president.
<div id="attachment_1001" style="width: 210px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-1001" class="wp-image-1001 size-medium" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Dr-Andrew-Golding-pic-1-pic-resized-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" />Dr Andrew Golding</div>
“My son Andrew Golding became chief executive of the group in 1996, and I realized that the company was in good hands… Trying to achieve a balance between career and personal life has always been a challenge,” says Golding.
Golding may not have been a cabaret dancer but she has waltzed through the tough real estate market—without missing a step.

From A Cottage In Cape Town To A Château In France

In 2006, the Mozambican president’s youngest daughter took the leadership of the family’s company—Focus 21 Management and Development, Ltd (Gestão e Desenvolvimento, Lda). The company, which focuses on business consulting, engineering, logistics and the mining sector, is currently valued at more than $5 million.
“There is an ongoing specialized financial reassessment of assets such as buildings, land, interests in diverse areas such as agribusiness, ICT and logistics in Mozambique,” says Guebuza.
Guebuza’s involvement in the company dates back to 2001 when her father changed the company’s shareholder structure. Both her brothers, Armando Ndambi Guebuza and Mussumbuluko Armando Guebuza, also joined Focus 21.
The Guebuza family business was born almost two decades ago. In recent years, it has established partnerships with companies such as Star Times, targeting the market for cable television, and Cervejas de Moçambique (Beers of Mozambique).
At Star Times Media, in which Focus 21 holds a 15% interest, Valentina Guebuza serves as the chief executive officer. The company was launched a year ago in Mozambique with the majority shareholder being the Chinese Star Times International. With an investment of more than $88 million, the joint venture aims to become the market leader in cable television in Mozambique, a country that faces the challenge of migrating from analogue to digital by 2015.
The national and foreign press also highlights business partnerships established between Focus 21 and Mozambican state-owned enterprises, such as the Portos e Caminhos de Ferro de Moçambique (Ports and Railways of Mozambique).
The professional profile of the three young entrepreneurs and their relationship with the heads of state of Mozambique and Angola must help.
During her childhood, Guebuza liked “to play with dolls and play ball” with other kids in Maputo, where she grew up. She adds that she had an education based on the principle of responsibility and helped the family with household chores, such as washing dishes and cooking. For Guebuza, the education she received from her parents was important in the development of her personality. In her interview with FORBES AFRICA she appeared to be an extremely modest person.
“Today, I understand what my parents always told us, that the family is the foundation of our stability; emotionally and professionally,” she says, adding that she always had a “very good” relationship with all her family members.
When she graduated in civil engineering, Guebuza had no idea that she would play an active role in the business world.
“I always wanted to be independent and I fought for it. In 2001, I started working in a restaurant. I also did secretarial work and when I was in my last year of university I started an internship at a consulting firm in civil engineering, where I gained practical experience in my field,” she says.
With her ingression into the leadership of Focus 21, Guebuza had to put on hold the Masters degree she was doing as she says the family business takes up all her time. She says she works “24/7”.
“I do not know if I am an enterprising person, but surely I have to bring in results to the group I manage. So I must split myself in two, losing nights thinking about solutions and projects that add value to our market and also to bring positive results for the company,” she says.
Being the youngest daughter of the president, Guebuza is a symbol of success in a society mostly made up of young people. She was born during the period in which Mozambique was no longer under Portuguese colonial rule, yet had plunged into civil war. The 1980s were particularly striking in the life of the entrepreneur, who still remembers the trips around the country under military escort as well as the numerous power outages.
Given her youth, Guebuza has been associating with organizations that attempt to promote entrepreneurship and employment among young Mozambicans. In the social field, this is one of the major topics to which she has dedicated herself. Low-cost housing for families is another one of her passions.
“I think we are a privileged generation in a way. We did not live in the time when we were oppressed. Some of us lived throughout part of the civil war period, others have no idea what those moments were all about,” she says.
In 2010, she became involved in the Business Fair, held in Maputo. The initiative’s main objective is to promote “a space where young entrepreneurs can exchange ideas and experiences”.
That same year, Guebuza received an invitation to join the New Leaders for Tomorrow forum, held by the Swiss organization Crans-Montana. From the relationships established with the organization, she joined the Africa Foundation 2.0 in 2011, which connects young African leaders from 40 nations to design strategies for integrated social development for the continent.
Another sign of media recognition that Guebuza has gathered at the international level was her participation in the last G20 meeting, held in Paris in October. Only 15 African Foundation 2.0 members were invited.
With an annual growth of 7.5%, Mozambique seems to be one of the most promising economies in Africa. The enormous agricultural potential, in parallel with natural resources such as gas or coal, have placed the watchful eyes of investors on the young African economy.
“Over the next 10 years, I see my country being given more weight in terms of decisions to be taken globally,” she says.
As a “dissatisfied” person and one who likes to live each day in an “intense” way, Guebuza believes that these are times of “great enthusiasm” for Mozambique. She is proud of the importance that her nation is beginning to gather on an international level and expects that the country’s economic success will result in the improvement of Mozambique’s social indicators.
The Next Isabel dos Santos? 
Often, journalists compare Guebuza to the Angolan entrepreneur, Isabel dos Santos, daughter of the president of Angola José Eduardo dos Santos. According to Forbes, she is worth at least $170 million and is considered to be the most powerful and richest woman in her country and among the richest in Africa. She was described by the Portuguese newspaper Público as: “…a good business woman, extremely dynamic and intelligent, also a professional and friendly.” 
Since 2008, she has held interests in telecommunications, media, retail, finance and the energy industry, both in Angola and in Portugal. Her commercial interests include oil, diamonds and shares in the Angolan cement company, Nova Cimangola

The Millionaire Princess

Despite its problems, East Africa’s third-largest economy has enjoyed a measure of political stability. In 1986, pragmatic former guerrilla leader, Yoweri Museveni, overthrew President Milton Obote and his National Resistance Movement (NRM); he has dominated the political landscape ever since and is expected to do so for the foreseeable future.
This vestige of political stability, coupled with western-backed economic reforms, culminated in robust economic growth for the east African nation. Between 2006 and 2010, growth averaged an impressive 7.2%. Growth has been supported predominantly by coffee exports, household consumption and infrastructure development. The commencement of oil production, following the discovery of oil in 2006, will be a further boost for growth in years to come.
However over the past financial year growth has taken a knock and was the lowest it has been for several years. Official statistics show growth to have slumped to 3.2% in FY2011/12, down from 6.7% the previous financial year. Growth was weighed down by rampant inflation and weak external demand, primarily emanating from concerns surrounding the Eurozone debt crisis.
<div id="attachment_994" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-994" class="size-large wp-image-994" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/iStock_000001291877Medium-683x1024.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="711" />The equator, exactly at zero degrees north or south, The line is also painted on the road.</div>
The International Monetary Fund (IMF) expects growth to improve to 6% in 2012 and rise to 7% in 2013. Growth is likely to benefit from less stringent monetary policy on the back of subdued inflation. This is likely to improve credit extension to the private sector that had been adversely affected through tight monetary policy pursued since the middle of last year.
Inflation last year spiralled out of control prompting the Bank of Uganda to raise the central bank rate from 13% in July to 23% in November. Inflation decreased to 18% in June, from 18.6% a month earlier. Declining inflation allowed the central bank some scope to ease the policy rate. The central bank rate was lowered to 19% in July, down from 20% in June. Despite falling inflation, the Bank of Uganda is likely to be cautious in its monetary policy stance in months ahead. Rightly so as core inflation still remains high at 19.5% as of June.
Fiscal policy will complement monetary policy and remain accommodative in line with the country’s infrastructural and developmental ambitions.
Macroeconomic policy will be further anchored through the IMF’s Policy Support Instrument (PSI) program currently in place. In June the IMF gave the program a thumbs up which will soothe investor concerns.
There are several risks to growth in coming years. Uncertain global growth given the lack of a comprehensive and permanent solution to the European sovereign debt crisis should keep external demand low and continue to curtail exports. About 22% of Ugandan exports are destined for Europe.
Slowed global growth should keep energy prices low. Conversely, inflation will soar in the event that oil prices rise significantly. Food inflation in particular will also be dependent on rainfall conditions. Poor rains drove food inflation higher last year and it remained sticky at 12.7%, in June.
The possibility of war between Sudan and South Sudan will also have a considerable bearing on Uganda’s growth. The two neighbors engaged in border conflicts earlier in the year and have threatened each other with full-blown war. In the unfortunate event of war, Uganda has pledged to support South Sudan. A war between the two neighbors would threaten lucrative trade between Uganda and South Sudan.
Uganda has been rocked by mass protest following the general elections last year, which threatened the county’s stability. Continued protest will disrupt production. The protests have been led by opposition leaders and aim to turn the government’s attention to rising living costs, unemployment and rising corruption levels. Worryingly though, the protests have turned violent and police heavy-handedness to quell the protests has been reported.
Investors will be watching the economy closely in months to come. Top on their radar will be how quickly President Museveni addresses protests concerns. Any escalation of the protest would be detrimental to the economy. Investors will also have an eye on the commencement of oil production slated for 2013.

Uganda — Buffeted But Breathing

When the chilling images of Ernesto Nhamuave burning to death on the streets of South Africa were flashed around the world in May 2008 there were howls of pain and outrage. While the wounds are still fresh, a group of African filmmakers has risked controversy to take the harrowing story to the cinema in a film titled Man on Ground.
An unexpected hand in this project came from Rosie Motene—a lifestyle TV presenter more at home with holiday homes and cocktails on the beach than violence on the streets.
“As soon as my stint with Studio 53 was done and dusted, I approached film director Akin Omotoso of T.O.M Pictures about my interest in film production,” she says.
<div id="attachment_990" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-990" class="size-large wp-image-990" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Hakeem-and-I-682x1024.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="712" />Hakeem and Omotoso</div>
“Akin told me about Man on Ground; the fact that he had put it on ice due to a lack of funding and asked me if I had an appetite for this kind of project and whether I’d be keen to find a way of making sure the film happened. He felt strongly about telling that story and seeing the project to completion.”
Omotoso, a Nigerian working in the South African TV and film industry, was made for the telling of filming the story of Nhamuave having endured a good deal of xenophobia himself.
“Akin and a few other colleagues had already done extensive research for Man on Ground. The storyline was done, the wish list cast had already been identified and all that was missing was funding to get the production started. We agreed that the only people that were going to get paid were the cast and crew, so we went ahead and started sourcing money to get the ball rolling,” explains Motene.
Man on Ground, a tale of terror and violence, was never going to be a box office money-spinner so Motene realized they were going to have to be creative when it came to raising money.
“We decided to try out the new ‘crowd funding’ method, despite the fact that it had never been done locally before. Crowd funding basically means that you approach the everyday man on the street, ask them to make a donation and instead of them getting a return on investment they get a credit in the movie and get to attend the premiere event once the movie is released,” she explains.
South African low budget movies cost between R3-R5 million ($366,925-$611,540) to make; Motene and her team managed to raise only R1.9 million ($232,390) through crowd funding and a few generous corporate sponsors.
“Our budget was practically a joke, considering it cost about R20 million ($2.4 million) to produce (Oscar-winning movie) Tsotsi, but we decided to start production anyway with what we had and hope for the best. We had to call in a lot of favors from family and friends, and we had to think outside the box with regard to how we were going to make the movie look like a quality production despite our obvious financial restraints,” says Motene.
“We used friends’ houses for some scenes, family members as extras and for the fire scenes we went to a place in Lenasia (South of Johannesburg), where firemen do their training by blowing up things and putting out fires.
The film took 22 days to shoot. Even though Man on Ground did not get a big cinema release, it still fared well in the accolades department. Man on Ground picked up three awards from many nominations at the African Movie Awards in Nigeria in April. It was also screened at the Cannes, Dubai and Berlin film festivals as well as at Washington University. Motene and the team have partnered with the National Film and Video Foundation (NFVF) and have embarked on a mission to take the movie to all corners of Africa.
“The NFVF has a very cool distribution model where they take smaller films into independent film cinemas. As soon as we are done taking the film into South African communities through screenings at churches and community halls, we will also utilize the NFVF’s resources to take it into the mining communities and other remote areas using a mobile unit that can go into the deepest and most rural of areas,” says Motene.
Man on Ground tells a story of a Nigerian investment banker living in Britain. His mother begs him to go to South Africa to look for his step-brother. He manages to overcome his hesitancy, due to some personal issues he had with his brother, to go on a journey to find him. He is caught up in xenophobic violence that results in him being burnt alive. The film stars solid actors such as Hakeem Kae-Kazeem, Fana Mokoena and Bubu Mazibuko.
“Even though there was not going to be any financial gain on my part, or anyone else who invested in the film, I felt I had to be part of this project as my way of doing something about xenophobia. I find it pathetic that even though that particular uprising was said to have been started by South Africans, the majority of the 62 lives that were lost were mainly innocent people from South Africa,” says Motene.
“What’s even more disheartening is the fact that as South Africans, we were basically turning against the very people whose countries helped us fight apartheid.”
Twenty-two days of shooting could yield food for thought for years to come.

A Shocker On A Shoestring

The lights are off and the curtains drawn. The Africa Corner Bar in downtown Tel Aviv is a shadow of the popular night spot it once was. It jumps more in fear these days, than it ever did to the beat. It is also out of time with name of the neighborhood it is in—the Quarter of Hope.
That name fitted like a glove when Amine Tekele Zegeta opened the bar last year. The Eritrean refugee believed he’d given birth to a place that would make worthwhile the anguish of his difficult journey to Israel.
Eight months on, Tekele Zegeta sits largely by himself in his bar. It’s Thursday afternoon and the place has only three patrons, one of whom has his eyes glued to the small TV set broadcasting an Eritrean music channel that seems to be playing the same three songs in Tigrigna over and over.
The bar has been this empty since May 23, the day a protest against the influx of African migrants spun out of control. The people of the Quarter of Hope ran amok, smashing African-owned stores and terrorizing Africans. Israeli parliamentarians called African migrants infiltrators who should be cut out like cancer.
That night a rock shattered the main window in Tekele Zegeta’s bar. Looters surged in and stole his stock. Out on the street, the rioters chanted racist slogans as they blocked a car driven by a man from the Ivory Coast and smashed his windows, before attacking any Africans they could find. The string of racist demonstrations and inflammatory language worry many, especially Israel’s 120,000-strong Ethiopian community.
“Ever since that day, I don’t feel normal. I am afraid to come to work. I open at irregular hours. I don’t know what will happen next,” Tekele Zegeta says.
It wasn’t the first time Tekele Zegeta’s bar had been hit. Several months after he opened, Israeli youth attacked him outside the bar and beat him up. A few weeks later he was harassed on the street, but managed to escape. Just two days after FORBES AFRICA interviewed him; Tekele Zegeta’s bar was again attacked when a man on a motorcycle roared up to the front door and threw in firecrackers.
“People don’t want to come here. They know there is trouble. They are lying low and not going outside too much, they don’t want to be attacked,” he reflects sadly.
Since 2005, some 60,000 Africans, mostly from Sudan and Eritrea, made their way to Israel, mostly seeking refuge from war, persecution and dictatorship. Like Tekele Zegeta, they cross into Israel via its porous border with Egypt and many tell tales of vicious torture and rape at the hands of their Sinai Bedouin handlers. Once in Israel, they are picked up by the army, given basic medical treatment and taken to a prison to be processed. They are set free after 10-12 days on conditional release, a status they must renew every three months. Then they are left to fend for themselves.
Israel considers the migrants interlopers, but the country has a policy of not deporting them, especially the Sudanese and Eritreans who are given group protection because they could face persecution—or worse—if they are sent back. Because they’re not recognized as refugees, most of them are not given the rights that go with being a refugee, such as the right to housing, work and medical care. Many end up sleeping in public parks and roaming the streets by day, with no hope of making a living.
Tekele Zegeta has it tough, but he is one of the lucky ones. He is recognized as a refugee and has a work visa. He left Eritrea in 2007, leaving behind his parents and a young daughter, for a journey that took him about a month. After years of cleaning apartments and offices, he pooled his savings and borrowed from friends to open the bar. He serves coffee, tea, soft drinks and beer in Israeli and European brands as well as Asmara, a brand named after the Eritrean capital. The bar is modest; it has eight tables with plastic coverings and the walls are adorned with posters of Eritrea or Ethiopia.
“I wanted to have a place for African patrons. They can come here, drink something, talk. But I don’t know if I will stay open. How can I?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t say this is my dream but I can’t stay cleaning houses for the rest of my life. I wanted to do something to get ahead. In Eritrea, I was ok. I had a home, an income, a life. I came here as a refugee, I came here for help.”
Tekele Zegeta is highly critical of the Israeli government’s handling of the situation.
“It is clear that Israel doesn’t want us here. I have been here five years and what do I have to show for it? In other countries, after that many years, you get some sort of permanence, citizenship, a chance at a normal life. Israel keeps us in limbo. It accuses us of seeking work but is working a crime in any other country? Israel should abide by the law. It can either send us to a third country or help us.”
In a high profile campaign, Israeli authorities began a crackdown on Africans in June, arresting and deporting mainly South Sudanese nationals. Israel maintains that since South Sudan is now an independent state, with ties to Israel, no-one sent back would face danger.
Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu also lauds his government’s plans to finish the construction of a fence along the Israeli border with Egypt and a detention center that will house some 10,000 people, in the Negev desert. The government is not saying what it will do with the thousands of people who reside in the country but have no rights.
Ethiopian MK Shlomo Molla is on record as saying: “We feel very uncomfortable about what is happening&#8230; Jews talk about how we were slaves in Egypt and how we suffered because of our religion and culture outside of Israel—but now we are making others suffer.”
Back at the Africa Corner Bar, Tekele Zegeta is cynical.
“What did the government do after the demonstrations? Nothing! It cannot go on like this. Israel can’t just throw people to the dogs. It must care what happens to us. If I close, I will be left with nothing, and I will owe money. I would be back at square one.”
Tekele Zegeta may have to shut Africa Corner Bar’s doors, no longer feeling safe in the area and in Israel in general. But he knows he cannot go back to Eritrea and is now seeking asylum in a third country. “At least, if I can be accepted in another country, that would be better,” he concludes.
For Tekele Zegeta, this place of refuge has become a place to seek refuge from. It is a sign of the times in Tel Aviv that an African as battered as he is can be considered lucky.

No Quarter Or Hope

It’s refreshing when you come across a foreigner passionate about Africa. The continent has become the new big market for multinationals all over the world. But Ewan Cameron, CEO of Lonrho Hotels is not jumping on the bandwagon, he’s had his sights set on Africa for a long time, and not only for business, he’s also ardent about the continent and its people.
“My interest in Africa came at an early age, I’ve always been interested in the people and the culture,” says Cameron.
<div id="attachment_979" style="width: 810px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-979" class="size-full wp-image-979" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/test.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="533" />Lansmore Masa Square, Garborone, Botswana</div>
Cameron has a long history in the hotel industry though he’s only 39. Born and raised in Glasglow, Scotland, he started out waiting tables and cleaning rooms at the Swallow Hotel and Conference Centre in Dundee, while he studied Business Sciences at the University of Dundee. After graduating in 1992, the Swallow Hotel Group offered him a position as front house manager of the hotel. His keen interest in hotel management won him a transfer to the Glasglow Swallow Hotel, where he became the business development manager. Then the United Kingdom’s two biggest hotel groups, at the time, Thistle Hotel Chain and the Forte Hotel Group, noticed him. Cameron went with Forte, because of its international exposure. Thistle is the biggest hotel chain in the UK but had no hotels outside the region. Forte has hotels all over the world. Cameron’s portfolio included some heavyweight clients like UBS, the Ford Motor Company and PricewaterhouseCoopers. He later took over new business development at Forte. In 1999, Forte bought the Holiday Inn franchise. And in 2002, Cameron moved over to head up franchising. This is where he got his real feel for Africa. He travelled extensively overseeing operations in the Middle East and Africa. Cameron worked closely with Southern Sun, which at the time was running some of its hotels under the Holiday Inn brand. But in 2008, Southern Sun cut ties with the Intercontinental franchise and dropped the use of Holiday Inn.
Cameron also decided it was time to cut ties.
“I tried for years to convince Forte to expand in Africa, but they were not interested, they wanted to expand in Asia and the Middle East, I wanted to grow Africa. I drew up a strategy for Africa and Lonrho liked it,” Cameron recalls. The Lonrho Group has been operating in Africa for over 100 years. It is invested in luxury hotels across Southern Africa. It also runs airlines and is involved in the agricultural sector. The group took Cameron’s strategy and made him CEO in 2010. Since then, he has wasted no time in implementing his ambitious plan. Lonrho has partnered with easyHotel Group to roll out 50 new hotels by 2016.
“There is growing demand in Africa especially for the business traveler,” notes Cameron. Lonrho has five-star luxury hotels in 16 countries in Africa. The group is now moving towards building more business-friendly hotels.
“These hotels wouldn’t have the luxury that our high-end hotels offer, but they’re comfortable for the business person going on a quick trip,” he says. His strategy is to open hotels with a fresh and modern design. They will offer all the services a businessperson needs, like a conference venue, gym facilities, a coffee shop for meetings and full Wi-Fi. Hotel managers are also being trained.
“Our managers should be able to link travelers to local businesses and help link them to potential clients and vice versa; the hotel needs to become a one-stop shop,” he says.
The new low-cost easyHotels have opened in some countries with rooms from $35. In June, Lonrho opened a hotel in Gaborone, Botswana. Another hotel opened in Beira in Mozambique in July. There are plans for new hotels in Nairobi in Kenya, Dar es Salaam in Tanzania and Accra in Ghana.
<div id="attachment_981" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-981" class="size-large wp-image-981" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/lonrho-head-office-photos-033-681x1024.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="713" />Ewan Cameron, CEO of Lonrho Hotels</div>
Later this year, Lonrho will also open its first hotel in South Africa in the Johannesburg city center. The hotel will be situated outside the new Gautrain rail link from O.R. Tambo International Airport. In recent years, several international hotel groups have opened hotels in the affluent Sandton area, but not many have ventured into the city’s center.
Cameron is not one to follow the herd; he believes that not everyone travelling to Johannesburg wants to go to Sandton. He is also not too worried about going into areas that pose political and social risks. Lonrho recently purchased a second hotel in Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). For decades, the country has been torn apart by war and civil unrest. This has not deterred Cameron who believes there’s rich tourism potential in the country’s capital. Cameron is certainly a risk taker but he does his homework and says he has an exit plan for every hotel the group owns. He works closely with the Mckinsey research group for facts, figures and other data on Africa. According to Mckinsey research, the DRC will be the fastest growing economy in Africa by 2026.
But not everyone has an appetite for risk. Tsogo Sun Holdings, Africa’s biggest hotel and gaming group, is not convinced there is a real demand for hotels in Africa. It already has a strong footprint in Africa with its Southern Sun hotels and feels more confident in South Africa than the rest of Africa.
“There are no volumes in Africa,” says Tsogo Sun CEO, Marcel von Aulock.
“African economies are small and there’s still very little corporate activity to propose new hotels.”
Tsogo recently posted a solid set of annual results. The group raised earnings 39% to R9 billion ($1.1 billion). Von Aulock is also no newcomer to the industry. He joined Tsogo’s finance department in 1999. Ten years later, he took over as the group’s CEO. He believes he understands the hotel industry and while he does see opportunities for further expansion on the continent, he feels the timing needs to be right.
Tsogo’s approach to the hotel industry differs from Lonrho’s. The group is focused on taking full ownership of hotels; it doesn’t just take over the management and operations.
“We want to own the land the hotel is standing on, we want to manage and operate it and own the brand, and it’s not always easy to do that. But we are not about taking the easy approach,” adds Von Aulock. The group recently closed its famous Southern Sun Grayston Hotel in Sandton after 30 years, because it didn’t own the land. The tenants raised the rent and Tsogo felt it was no longer feasible to remain on the property.
“This served as a lesson for us, that’s why it is more important now that we stick to our business model,” says Von Aulock.
But he concedes this is one of the main reasons it’s hard to penetrate Africa.
“Land is still a very controversial issue, the operating costs are very high. If we build a hotel in Africa, we have to set up our own power generation, our own water purification and sewerage systems—it requires a massive cash injection,” says Von Aulock. This is where Tsogo and Lonrho differ. Lonrho takes over existing hotels, rents the properties and provides the management and operational expertise to run the business.
Tsogo has also done well with its gaming business in South Africa, but says it has no plans to open casinos anywhere in Africa.
“Again there’s no market for gambling in Africa. The South African market is very different—our casinos here are doing very well, even in tough economic times, there’s still spending capacity in South Africa, not in Africa, there’s no middle-class in Africa and unfortunately that’s where the spending comes from.”
But Tsogo Holdings is not staying away completely. It’s still positive about future growth and says it will continue to look for opportunities. It owns 95 hotels in southern Africa, most of which are four- and five-star hotels. But last year, it ventured into the business traveler market opening a two-star StayEasy hotel in Lusaka, Zambia. The hotel is a nice fit for corporate travelers looking for tourist activities. It is attached to a shopping mall, another strategy Tsogo is exploring.
“We want our guests to have quick and easy access to any services they may need,” says Von Aulock.
Tsogo has also taken over distressed hotels successfully. The group recently bought The Grace in Johannesburg’s northern suburb of Rosebank for R85 million ($10.12 million). The iconic boutique hotel closed its doors in August last year after the operating company ran into financial difficulty. Tsogo Sun has spent over R20 million ($2.4 million) on refurbishing the hotel. The new 54 on Bath hotel opened its doors in July.

Staying In Hotels

When, let’s call him Robert S, the CEO of Dutch multinational IT firm X, decides to open a branch in Kenya, he is enthusiastic about expanding into an emerging market that promises substantial return on investment. His firm teams up with a local shareholder to ease transition into the Kenyan business environment. With primary experience in developed markets, the choice of partner is largely financial, neglecting the shareholder’s political connections or ethical track record.
The local partner helps with raising finance, acquiring trading licenses, registering premises and managing the operational set-up including the supply chain. Issues like nepotism, fraud and bribery don’t cross Robert S’s mind until his company successfully tenders for a big contract and is promptly accused of corruption by the losing party. An internal investigation brings severe irregularities to light. Company X finds itself faced with reputational damage, threats from the local shareholders’ political connections and liability of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Two years later, Company X still operates successfully in Kenya, but Robert S wishes he knew back then what he knows now.
Bribery, theft, corruption and other types of fraud cost African governments and companies at least $11 billion last year, the first Africa Fraud Barometer, recently published by auditing firm KPMG, found. That’s a good 10% of the roughly $100 billion in foreign direct investment made on the continent in 2011.
The actual cost of fraud is likely to be much higher, since the barometer only takes into account cases reported in English-language media, and access to police and criminal justice statistics are unavailable in most African countries. More reliable corruption trends will emerge as KPMG updates the fraud barometer every six months.
“It’s very difficult to estimate how high corruption really is. The $11 billion might be quite understated,” admits the firm’s global forensics manager, Petrus Marais, who developed the barometer.
It’s a sobering reminder of the challenges facing the continent, which has, in recent years, attracted massive foreign investment due to impressive economic growth rates of up to 8%. Some of the continent’s largest economies—South Africa, Nigeria and Kenya—have the highest incidence of fraud, according to the barometer, showing clearly that with more economic activity and investment comes increased risk.
Everywhere on the continent, governments and the public sector were hardest hit, claiming about 40% of all fraud cases, closely followed by businesses with 17%. This shows that African business operations have practically experienced “a breakdown in the ethical and moral environment”, warns KPMG.
Investors need to be prepared for this. “It’s extremely difficult to turn the tide. If you don’t have a moral base to operate from, you will have to waste lots of money on checks and balances, on jacking up processes and systems to manage risk,” says Marais. That’s the tradeoff any company wanting to operate successfully in Africa needs to make.
The main culprit of fraud is white-collar crime. Almost every third employee commits some form of fraud, the study found, ranging from junior staff to top management. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the highest value of fraud—$3.3 billion in 2011—was committed by managers, who are generally in positions with authority to approve large transactions and override controls, followed by professional advisors.
“Fraud occurs most where money enters and exits a company or institution. At the interface of financial transactions, perpetrators tend to be most successful in defrauding funds,” says Marais, identifying procurement, recruitment and contracting as the biggest risk areas.
“We hear a lot of anecdotal evidence of corruption,” confirms Thomas Schultz, chief operating officer at Sanlam’s investment management arm in its Africa division, which has branches throughout the continent. But if companies plan well, they can avoid being drawn into corruption, even in Africa, he believes. Choosing a trustworthy local shareholder or auditing firm with the right code of ethics is therefore key.
That means expanding into Africa is not a simple step. Investors need to do a lot more homework before they decide to invest; be better connected to access inside information; consider weak infrastructure, from roads to electricity; and be aware that setting up operations, from administration to licensing, might take longer. “All those issues raise the cost of doing business. It’s not a bandwagon you can jump on,” says Schultz. “You have to be sure your profit margin is sufficient to cover those costs.”
But it’s not all doom and gloom. A 2011 Ernst &amp; Young survey predicts that Africa’s economic growth will outpace its Asian counterpart over the next five years due to increasing foreign direct investment. Africa has remained an attractive investment destination throughout the global downturn and stayed high on the agenda of global investors, with 42% of businesses considering investing further in the region and an additional 19% of executives confirming they will maintain their operations on the continent.
“Although the overall perception of Africa remains quite negative, investors recognize that the continent has a window of opportunity because of its economic growth potential,” says Marais. “Whoever wants to see good returns simply has to go to Africa. It’s a great place to invest if you have the ability to assess the risk involved.”
Another plus is that African governments have shown greater willingness to address fraud, and be more transparent and accountable by passing anti-corruption laws. But for now, this trend needs to be viewed with caution, as it remains mainly a commitment on paper, with little implementation and enforcement of those regulations. “Very few anti-corruption regimes have gone beyond rhetoric. There is lack of political will to implement them and they remain under-funded,” says Charles Goredema, a corruption expert at the Institute for Security Studies in South Africa.
Businesses should choose to invest in countries with regulatory and legal frameworks they can rely on to enforce contracts, says Goredema. That means taking a close look at a country’s real situation, not just skimming the paperwork. Rwanda, Mauritius and Nigeria, for example, have made “huge strides” in fighting corruption, he notes, while the situation in countries like the Democratic Republic of Congo and Zimbabwe remains “very bleak”.
In the end, investors must be careful not to tar the whole continent with the same brush.

The Truth About Fraud In Africa

It’s the 21st century, but countless South African women still struggle to become entrepreneurs, struggle even to open a small shop. The main culprit is the country’s deeply embedded patriarchal thinking, says Dr Mamphela Ramphele, even though this should have dissipated with its progressive post-apartheid constitution, which guarantees women equal rights.
But it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.
“Patriarchal culture remains very strong in South Africa. Women are still regarded as minors. They are still asked if their husband has given permission, for example, if they want to access a loan, even though it is unconstitutional,” laments Ramphele.
Yet, enabling women to become entrepreneurs would have a direct, wide-reaching and often multi-generational impact on a country’s economic growth, she explains: “Successful women educate their children to ensure they escape the poverty trap, whereas with men, wealth remains with men. There are also progressive men, but they are few and far between. When you compare the return of investment in women versus men, it’s far higher for women.”
Ramphele became aware of the struggle for gender equality early on. Growing up in a traditional household in rural Limpopo, one of South Africa’s poorest provinces, she watched her mother, Rangoato Rahab, a strong, self-assured woman, standing up to her husband, father-in-law and brothers-in-law.
“My mother fought patriarchy. And I grew up to assert myself.”
Ramphele remembers how she learnt that a woman’s life did not have to be constrained by her gender. It gave her the confidence throughout her career to pursue her interests and convictions with integrity.
“Whether I’m alone or in a group of a hundred men, I’m not easily intimidated,” she says.
It’s a character trait essential for someone like Ramphele whose career has been marked by ‘firsts’ and ‘onlys’. She was one of very few black women to study medicine during apartheid; in 1996 she became the first black South African and first woman to become vice chancellor of a University—the University of Cape Town (UCT); the first African managing director at World Bank in 2000 and she is still the only black, female executive in some of the country’s boardrooms.
“Throughout my career, I had to bear this burden of being the only woman, the first woman. It’s not something to celebrate. It’s a serious commentary on a society that has not leveraged the talent of women. If anything, it energizes me to fight the battle for gender equality,” she says.
She surely did. At UCT, Ramphele regarded equity not just as affirmative action based on race, but also on gender and class and ensured women were given opportunities to pursue professorships and become academic leaders. A few years later, at the World Bank, she fought for the implementation of a gender policy that not only targeted women in developing countries but was applied to the bank’s internal structures as well.
Responsible for human development at the World Bank—the global financial institution widely criticized for its capitalist structural adjustment policy, which worsened inflation in many African countries—Ramphele tried to get the bank’s hardcore economists to understand the softer issues that make for sustainable development.
Although her task was difficult, her philosophy was simple: “Countries have to drive the partnership with the World Bank based on their own national development plans. One of the problems of African countries is that we lack the self-confidence to know that we can take ownership of these international entities that we belong to, shape them to serve our interests.”
That’s what she did.
“I didn’t apologize for being an African woman, for not being an economist. I said, ‘I know you’re good at doing economics, but I think you’re not doing well enough when it comes to human development’.”
Being non-apologetic is a red thread throughout Ramphele’s career. Already in the 1990s, when she was the first and only woman on the board of mining giant Anglo American, she lobbied for a more gender equitable management structure. Progress has been slow. Today, Anglo’s board is made up of nine men—eight of them white, one Asian—and only two women, one of whom is Ramphele, still the only black executive. Later this year, a third woman will join the board.
Since Ramphele became chair of another mining firm, Gold Fields, in 2010, she has lobbied for more gender consciousness there, too. It’s a lonely battle: “The fact is the board is still very much a male domain. One has to keep fighting. What’s important for women like me to recognize is that their success means very little unless it’s used to support and enhance the success of other women.”
Ramphele doesn’t place the blame with men alone. She stresses the fact that women who have made it in the business world have a responsibility to create networks that support other women in leadership and challenge patriarchal culture.
“There are lots of women who do that, but there are many more who don’t: the queen bees. Once they have made it, it’s only about them.”
Part of the problem is that women are struggling to position themselves, she believes, often out of fear of retribution.
“In parliament, as in boardrooms, women’s voices have been muffled. When women speak up, they are called disruptive, difficult, loud. But when men speak out, they are strong and decisive.”
It’s the gap between theory and practice. Although, theoretically, the glass ceiling that limits women’s success in business should have been lifted; in practice, it still exists. Again, Ramphele argues it has to be women who crack it, because men won’t do it on their behalf.
“The glass ceiling starts in women’s own psyche. The mindset shift has to start with women believing they are as good as anybody,” she suggests.
Women must have the humility to seek help, from other women as well as from supportive men.
“I’ve had mentors who were men—older men, white men. You’ve got to be open and recognize that there are a lot more men than women who have had the experiences you need.”
Another key to women’s success is to ensure their personal, professional and wider social values cohere, Ramphele believes: “Then you are at peace with yourself and don’t get intimidated when you’re alone in a boardroom where people make sexist or racist jokes. You just stand up and say, ‘That’s not acceptable’.”
Ramphele was lucky to grow up in a home that gave her the confidence to overcome many such hurdles. Even though she came from humble beginnings, her parents, both primary school teachers, had high expectations of her.
“They instilled the urge to excel in me. I was always number one in my class, but my father used to say, ‘That’s not good enough. You must now compete against yourself’.”
When her dream of becoming a scientist was destroyed by an apartheid ban on Africans studying mathematics and science, Ramphele enrolled for medicine and was accepted into the University of Natal’s Medical School in 1968, then the only institution that allowed black students to enlist without prior government permission.
“What medicine taught me was leadership, because in the medical profession, you have to take responsibility for every one of your actions,” she recalls, describing her student years as a time of immense personal growth.
It was here that she met anti-apartheid leader Steve Biko, with whom she co-founded the Black Consciousness Movement. She also fell in love with him and had a son by him. Together they fought for black self-worth and economic self-reliance.
Biko—who was killed by South African police 35 years ago—would be dismayed by the society South Africa’s leading African National Congress has created in the last two decades, Ramphele believes, which continues to suffer from high levels of poverty and inequity: “He’d be very disappointed that South Africa has not been able to realize its full potential.”
While the country has made strides in financial management, audited risk and governance, it has failed in areas Ramphele believes would contribute greatest to long-term economic sustainability: education, health and social development.
“We have the money, but there is no appetite within government to do the right thing,” she criticizes in her frank manner. “I can only suggest that they don’t think it’s important enough to invest in human capital.”
One of the greatest failures of South Africa’s development model was to turn 16 million people—almost a third of the population—into welfare recipients instead of promoting entrepreneurship, she argues: “That’s not sustainable and has enhanced inequity. Entrepreneurship is the only way South Africa can grow this economy fast enough, with a broad enough participation rate.” That way, the country could easily boost its economic growth from the currently meager 3.5% to 10%, she believes.
Hence, Ramphele’s latest pursuit is the Citizens Movement for Social Change, an organization she launched in April as a mechanism for citizens to hold government accountable.
“We need a mindset change, away from the notion that politics is for politicians,” she explains, likening South Africa to a business that cannot succeed if it ignores the interests of its shareholders.
“We, as citizens of South Africa, are the shareholders of South Africa Inc. The government is failing us, but the shareholder is missing in action. We need an engaged citizenry. To the extent that citizens acquiesce to the mismanagement of our state affairs, to that extent, we will fail as a country,” she says.

The Struggle Continues

Educor has been around for decades—Damelin and Intec college are household names—now the private education group is going back to school. It’s jumping into Nollywood—the vibrant, chaotic and informal film industry of Nigeria. The industry produces thirty new titles a week at $2 per DVD or VCD, which sell at traffic lights. It’s only getting bigger and better.
There is money in the madness. Nollywood is valued at $3.2 billion a year and produces around 2,400 films annually. It is the second largest film industry, next to Bollywood in India. The films are shot on location in two weeks, on average, for the cost of a stagehand on a Hollywood set: between $15,000 and $30,000. The average film sells between 25,000 and 50,000 copies worldwide; a blockbuster can sell up to 500,000.
New investment in Nollywood is on the way. With the support of the Nigerian Department of Culture, Educor Africa will open a multi-media and creative arts center to support Nollywood. The industry’s rapidly growing potential has also been recognized by Multichoice—a subscription-based South African satellite provider—is spending $300 million to produce local content within the Nigerian market, according to Julian Kannigan, CEO of Educor Africa.
<div id="attachment_968" style="width: 484px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-968" class="size-large wp-image-968" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/DSC_5663-1024x680.jpg" alt="" width="474" height="315" />Julian Kanningan, with students at the Randburg Damelin Campus</div>
“It’s going to require local skills which are scarce at best… you’re going to have trained sound engineers, lighting people, actors, actresses, 3D animators, journalists which are all world-class and it’s going to support a burgeoning community,” says Kannigan.
He acknowledges that the larger part of the population want business, information technology (IT), human resources (HR) and marketing skills, which are part of the education staple diet.
But running a business in Nigeria, isn’t always easy.
“Like everyone else who is conducting business in Nigeria, you buy your own generators. It just makes the cost of doing business more expensive but at the end of the day the numbers will bail you out if you get it right.”
It is part of expansion into the continent. In the next 18 to 24 months, Educor Africa plans to expand into Nigeria, Ghana, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda and Ethiopia, with an investment of R100 million ($12.38 million). The education group runs classroom, correspondence and online education. There are 16 Damelin campuses in South Africa with a franchise in Botswana and a correspondence business in Namibia.
“While the company has had certain overtures in Zimbabwe, with regards to potential partners, we’re just waiting for the right climate to explore those opportunities,” he says.
Educor Africa is busy with regulatory processes to start a correspondence business in Lagos, Nigeria. The education group is also applying for a university license through the national universities commission in the capital, Abuja.
“We aim to change the hearts and minds of the young and the not so young. Our initiative and passion for our business is that we change lives. It’s really important to us,” he says.
Kannigan’s pragmatic approach to business in Africa means the profit will be reinvested into the region.
“It’ll be an investment from one business to another, the correspondence branch will support the multimedia branch and together they’ll support the establishment of the university,” he says.
While the regulatory environment in South Africa doesn’t permit the Educor brands to call themselves a university—even though they can award degrees—that’s not the case in other African countries.
“Certainly some of those governments are aware of their own incapacity to provide, and therefore they welcome players such as Educor. Government’s capacity to spend on public education, with a burgeoning population at the same time, is creating a gap that is growing larger… we are actually assisting those governments to minimize that gap,” he says.
He is witness to the demand for higher education on the continent. The wealthy of West Africa pay a fortune to educate their children in the United States or Great Britain.
“When you take a world-class university experience to them, they embrace it. Now, you’re going to see that in many other African countries, especially those with a high GDP growth. If you want to increase your GDP, you’re going to need a skilled labor force,” says Kannigan.
Educor is going after big partners: “We are approaching the World Bank, who have a mandate with regards to education for Africa. We are busy talking to international universities which require an African or South African partner for various reasons to go into the African continent together… The education sector is recession-proof. People want to upscale themselves during a recession, to make themselves more marketable,” he says.
It hasn’t been smooth-sailing. Educor South Africa bought the business from Media24—Africa’s leading media publishing company—in 2008. When Media24 and Naspers—Media24’s majority shareholder—divested, the business was in the red. Not only has the Educor group brought it back into the black but it has also managed to expand.
“If you have a conversation with me in ten years time, firstly, I’ll be too busy to see you… we would have built something phenomenal across Africa in terms of education,” says Kannigan.
“Now is the time for Africa,” he says.

Nollywood: A Longshot

The African National Congress (ANC) policy conference, held in Midrand at the end of June, has finally canned the proposed nationalization of the South African mining industry but mining executives and investors cannot relax just yet.
That’s because it remains as clear as mud: precisely what government intends doing about the far-reaching policy proposals contained in the document known as the State Intervention in the Mining Sector (Sims).
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The outcome is that the pall of uncertainty—which has hung over investors in the mining industry since nationalization was put on the ANC’s official agenda in September 2010, at its national executive meeting in Durban—is going to continue at least until the electoral conference schedule for December.
The reason for this is that Sims makes a number of proposals with far-reaching consequences for the mining industry—platinum miners in particular—with platinum group metals (PGM) being declared “strategic” along with others such as coal and iron ore.
Those proposals involve potential major changes to the way in which the mines are taxed as well as other measures aimed at increasing local beneficiation of certain minerals; greater black economic empowerment (BEE) stakes in mining companies and greater participation by the state in mining through the state-owned mining company (SMC).
The proposals include a Rent Resource Tax (RRT) targeting “windfall” profits which would be levied at a rate of 50% during times when mining companies earn more than a 15% rate of return on their investment.
“Let’s give the ANC leadership credit where it is due. My understanding is that the various fiscal proposals in Sims were not adopted at the conference and have been kicked into touch,” says Peter Leon, a Webber Wentzel legal expert.
“They will now be the subject of further debate between government and the mining industry ahead of the December conference. But the other proposals on beneficiation, the role of the state miner and the increase in BEE stakes in mining companies to 30% were all adopted and are now floating around. That creates more uncertainty which investors do not like, but I would rather have this situation than one where the conference had adopted the fiscal measures proposed in Sims.”
Such uncertainty is toxic to investment in the country’s mining business which typically requires the up-front expenditure of billions in capital projects over a period of years before any returns are made.
Government’s aim—as stated at the head of the Sims document—is to: “Maximize the developmental impact of the People’s Mineral Assets.”
But any regulations imposed which hold back mining development in South Africa will have severe negative impacts on the economy and unemployment if the all-important platinum sector is hit.
The mining industry remains a key component of the South African economy. The most important sector is platinum, which has taken over as the largest employer and biggest earner of foreign exchange, following the decline of the formerly dominant gold sector.
According to South African Chamber of Mines’ statistics, the mining sector spent R484 billion ($58.2 billion) during 2011: R430 billion ($51.7 billion) of which was spent locally with R88.7 billion ($10.67 billion) going to salaries and R47 billion ($5.65 billion) being spent on capital expenditure.
Mining corporate tax payments last year totaled R25.8 billion which amounted to 17.2% of total South African tax receipts.
In 2010, the mining industry employed 498,141 people of which 181,969 worked on platinum mines; gold mining ranking second with a workforce of 157,019.
Despite the development over the past decade of various open-pit operations as well as some shallow, mechanized mines the platinum business remains labor-intensive.
The reason for this is that, as with the country’s gold mines, attempts to apply mechanized mining to deep-level platinum mines have been unsuccessful.
The most notable example was Lonmin which—under previous CEO Brad Mills—tried to implement mechanized mining on some of its shafts. The results were disastrous as costs soared and production dropped.
Mills—who proclaimed himself to be a ‘mechanization zealot’—eventually quit. Most of the operations mechanized have been returned to “conventional” mining systems.
So any setback to the platinum industry is going to have a sharp impact on job levels which is anathema to the ANC—let alone the various unions.
According to the Chamber of Mines, the RRT is “unwelcome and insupportable” because it will impose a significant increase on the industry’s tax burden. It will also have a major detrimental impact on the ability of some mining companies to sustain their operations.
Profits earned in boom times are frequently used to invest in the expansion of existing operations and the construction of new mines.
Stuart Murray, CEO of Aquarius Platinum, spelt it out when I interviewed him last year.
“This is a boom and bust industry. The cycles are getting shorter, the volatility is getting greater and it’s getting harder to get a decent return out of new investments. A platinum mine these days starting out of the blocks probably needs to show a 40% gross margin. That kind of margin may appear obscenely high to someone who makes fridges but it’s not. You need it to cover the risks involved in a project in which you have to sink capital over a 10 year period,” he says.
Aquarius has been the worst hit by the current downturn in the platinum sector, which has forced it to close three of its mines. Other juniors such as Eastern Platinum have delayed expansion programs.
A potentially major development still pending is the outcome of the operational review being carried out at Anglo American Platinum (Amplats): the world’s biggest platinum producer.
Anglo American in its submission to the ANC over Sims said, “The Sims proposals will harm the mining industry without necessarily securing its envisaged benefits.”
In Anglo’s opinion, “with the exception of some noted proposals…the Sims report relies fundamentally on the wrong approach to achieve some laudable goals.”
Despite all the doom and gloom, various junior start-up miners—such as Lesego Platinum; Nkwe Platinum and Sable Platinum—remain intent on entering the business, on the basis that the platinum game is cyclical and the good times will return.
It remains to be seen what they will do should their perception change to one that the outcome of the Sims negotiations results in a higher risk profile because of lower returns in those good times.
Some observers believe the industry should cut production in the face of the current global oversupply of platinum, which has driven down prices but it’s clear the major producers are reluctant to do so. So far, only mid-tier producer Aquarius has been prepared to “bite the bullet”.
Apart from the industrial relations and political consequences there are major costs involved in shutting shafts as well as material financial risks if overhead costs are not removed completely but, instead, get passed onto the remaining operating shafts threatening their viability.
The other key deciding factor revolves around management’s assessment of how long the bad times may last. Lonmin management made it clear, during a recent media visit, that they were reluctant to shut down shafts if they expected the platinum downturn to last only a year.
Lonmin is currently reviewing its position with an announcement due later this year on whether it will hold back on future planned capital expansions.

The Platinum Problem

It must be lonely at the top, sometimes. Since Kenyan geek, lawyer and political activist Ory Okolloh became Google’s policy advisor for Africa in early 2011, she is one of the few women in senior management in information technology (IT), a still largely male-dominated industry.
“The absence of women in technology is a challenge, not just in Africa but across the world,” Okolloh sighs. Through her work at Google, she wants to change that—by getting more Africans online, encouraging the creation of local internet content relevant to Africans and creating opportunities for young Africans to become developers and entrepreneurs.
Google, in a clever way of growing its own next generation of potential employees, is focusing on attracting women to the IT sector through close collaboration with universities, fellowships and internship programs. As a result, the number of women in IT should increase, Okolloh believes, and should translate into women taking up leadership positions.
<div id="attachment_960" style="width: 310px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-960" class="wp-image-960 size-medium" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/369-198_1-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />Ory Okolloh, Johannesburg; 7 June 2012 &#8211; Photo by Brett Eloff.</div>
“You need to build a pipeline first before you can look at how to get women into the higher, more visible roles,” she says.
She also hopes her own career path—after growing up in a relatively poor family in urban Kenya, she graduated from Harvard Law School in the United States, then accepted a high-powered position at multinational tech giant Google—will be an inspiration to other African women: “I hope I come across as very normal, so women can look at me and think, ‘I can do that too’.”
It was at Harvard that Okolloh discovered the power of the internet.
“I started blogging, which as a woman, gave me a voice and a space that I didn’t have to negotiate with anyone,” she says. Freedom of speech, liberation from patriarchal structures and participation in current political and social debates were no longer abstract concepts. Okolloh could exercise them every day and perhaps, most importantly, without intermediaries.
It was a realization that gave her life a new course. In 2006, she co-founded a parliamentary watchdog site Mzalendo (‘patriot’ in Swahili) which increased the accountability of Kenya’s government by recording bills, speeches and other official documents and making them available online. A year later, when the east African country was engulfed in violence following disputed presidential elections, Okolloh created yet another site, Ushahidi (Swahili for ‘witness’) that collected and mapped eyewitness reports of violence. The open source software created for the website has since been used to track violence in Eastern Congo, monitor elections in India and Mexico and map crime in the middle-American city, Atlanta.
Although Okolloh describes herself as a nerd, she is far from geeky. Fashionable, witty, warm and charming, she says working in the IT sector doesn’t mean hiding behind a computer screen.
“I can’t code to save my life,” she admits. “I’m much more interested in how technology can change lives.”
Her role as Google’s Africa policy advisor allows her to pursue this goal. The 34-year-old spends her days jetting from one of the continent’s 54 nations to the next to convince governments and private sector representatives of the importance of internet access for everyone.
“I try to encourage them to adopt policies that lead to getting more people online, to put in place regulations and come up with initiatives that can give people more access to the internet,” she says.
Internet connectivity and expansion should be a key aspect of any African country’s economic growth strategy, Okolloh believes: “The internet needs to be treated as an ‘infrastructure’. It’s as core, as critical, as electricity, water or roads in terms of growing the economy.” Optimistic about Africa’s future, she trusts in the continent’s ability to generate economic growth, but is wary about how it is being harnessed.
“This is a key decade for the continent in terms of opportunities. The question is how we make it a sustainable, inclusive and transformative growth, not just a boom decade.”
One way to do this is to improve internet access—currently only about 10% of Africans are online—which will have a direct impact on people’s pockets, Okolloh says, because the internet gives everyone, even those without much capital, access to the world.
“That’s why I’m drawn to technology. It’s an opportunity for people without resources, particularly young people and women, to place their stake in the ground. Those who can’t get a loan, can’t set up a manufacturing plant, can’t get an agent, but have access to this platform where they can make something happen for themselves. You can’t create jobs for everyone, you have to encourage entrepreneurship,” she says.
That has certainly been true in her own life. A mother of three young daughters, it’s largely thanks to the internet, and a supportive husband, that Okolloh manages to juggle a demanding career, frequent travel and family life as well as she does.
“The internet is a key enabler for women because it gives them mobility, flexibility and connectivity wherever they are. It helps them juggle multiple roles, work from home, be more efficient,” she says.
But until Okolloh reaches Google’s goal of Africa reaching a level of connectivity that matches that of Western nations, she will have to overcome some major challenges. Although the necessary undersea cables have been landed to connect the continent to the world’s major data hubs in the States and Europe, transmitting data inland is still too expensive.
“We still have a long way to go to tap the internet’s full potential in Africa,” Okolloh admits.
Another obstacle to innovation is lack of regional integration, which would allow entrepreneurs access to all 54 African markets.
“For innovation to really flourish, as an innovator, entrepreneur or business, you need to be able to at least sell to the continent, if not worldwide,” she explains. The basis for this would be a regionally accepted online payment system, like PayPal in the States, to facilitate e-commerce continent-wide. To date, Africa doesn’t have one.
In addition to that, Okolloh, who was on the Forbes list of Names You Need to Know in 2011 and named by Foreign Policy as one of the world’s top 100 thinkers in 2010, is rooting for more local content creation including text in local languages and country-specific geo-mapping to create “an internet that speaks to you where you are”. Currently, local content is at a dismal 2%.
“I would like to see Africans not only consume technology, but produce it. It’s about making the internet more relevant to Africa but also about sharing our content with the world,” she says.
The more Africans use the internet daily, the more likely Google is to make a profit on the continent. Since the web-search giant started operations in Africa in 2007, it has expanded into South Africa, Kenya, Nigeria, Ghana, Senegal and Uganda and opened offices in each of them, employing a total of about 90 staff.
“We are still laying the groundwork, understanding the market. We will grow as a business if people are online and local content is online,” Okolloh says, predicting that Google will profit in Africa within this decade.

Google Her

It was a golden childhood for Nonkululeko Gobodo in the natural beauty of South Africa’s Transkei amid the love and encouragement of successful business-owning parents. While her school friends played in the sun, Gobodo spent countless hours poring over the books of the family business. Her father wanted her to be a doctor; her love was numbers and the catalyst was just around the corner.
One clear Transkei morning, a group of black auditors came to look over the books. They were working for Wiseman Nkuhlu, who in 1977, became the first black South African to qualify as a chartered accountant. This was rare in apartheid South Africa, where education and professions were the preserve of whites.
On that day, Gobodo decided that was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life and went to break the news to her father. He asked her what the highest attainable level of education in the field was and said: “That is what you will do.”
“My father always wanted his children to be free-thinkers,” she remembers.
There was no stopping Gobodo after that. She tore through her education and became South Africa’s first black woman chartered accountant in 1987.
Gobodo landed her first job at KPMG fairly easily, but working was far from easy. In those days, the big clients were reserved for her white, male colleagues. It meant she had to persuade her bosses to give her a chance.
More than 20 years later, Gobodo chuckles with embarrassment as she tells of a senior, white, male colleague who had to resign after she had taken every client in his portfolio. It led to the company offering Gobodo a partnership, but she turned it down to start her own practice. It wasn’t easy. One of her first clients, an Afrikaner at the Bank of Transkei, told her to get out because he was not prepared to do business with her. The next day he refused to see her. On the third day, Gobodo walked into the man’s office, closed the door behind her and demanded that he speak with her. He did.
There were many other difficulties. Although her practice grew, black-run businesses were still very much excluded from the lucrative, largely white-run private sector. Most of these fledgling firms leaned heavily on government business.
It didn’t stop Gobodo and she prospered on the way to overseeing a merger to create Sizwe Ntsaluba Gobodo, South Africa’s largest black-owned auditing firm, of which she is the executive chair.
Gobodo sees her employees struggle with the same battles she endured decades ago. Surprisingly, she claims that women are reluctant to step up to the plate. They want flexible hours, in order to be able to make their home and children a priority; they’d rather do consulting, on the side, than pioneer big projects to put themselves in line for a promotion. They don’t seem to be able to make the sacrifices she once made, she says.
Her calm exterior is shaken for a moment. Gobodo pauses, looking pensive as she tells of having to leave her one-month-old child at home in order to prove her mettle at work.
“Humanity needs to go back to the drawing board,” she says.
“Raising future leaders is a responsibility; it is important to add value to the lives of others as we rise.”
Dressed in a sunshine yellow jacket, with a smile that could power a small town, Gobodo doesn’t appear the iron-fisted maiden she clearly must have been to make it in the often treacherous corporate world.
“I’ve had skirmishes where people have tried to undermine my leadership, but I’ve also put them in their place, and they’ll never forget it&#8230; they never forget it,” she emphasizes.
We’ll take her word for it.
<h4>Biography</h4>
Born on October 10, 1960, Gobodo started her career as a junior lecturer at the then University of Transkei, now Walter Sisulu University.
She left to begin her articles with KPMG in the Mthatha office. She joined the Transkei Development Corporation (TDC) as senior manager of finance. She left TDC in 1992 to start an accounting practice. She had a vision to start a medium-sized black accounting firm, as opportunities opened up after the 1994 elections, and founded Gobodo Inc with a group of partners in 1996.
“The accounting profession needs another big player other than the big four (Deloitte, PwC, KPMG and Ernst &amp; Young). We intend multiplying the firm in terms of number of staff and revenue within a short space of time. It will be the new house for black professionals.”
&#8211; Nonkululeko Gobodo, April 14, 2011, announcing the merger to form her present company
<h4>She has won awards too</h4>
Cape Town, 17 May 2012: Two South African women took top honors at the prestigious Oliver Empowerment Awards, as they were named the Top Black Business Leader of the Year and the Top Black Entrepreneur of the Year.
Nonkululeko Gobodo, South Africa’s first black, woman chartered accountant walked off with Top Black Business Leader of the Year and Sibongile Maseko, founder of Bongi-M Construction, received the Top Entrepreneur of the Year accolade.

Woman Are Not Stepping Up To The Plate

It came like a bolt from the blue. On the evening of October 20, 2006, Tabitha Karanja the chief executive officer (CEO) of Keroche Brewery Limited was working late in her brewery head office in Naivasha—65 kilometers from Nairobi. Her husband, Joseph Karanja had just gone to Nairobi hospital where he was to undergo minor surgery the next day.
Karanja was winding up so she could rush to see him. As she was leaving, a fax arrived. It was after 5pm and she was curious about who sent a fax so late in the day. Her curiosity turned to shock in seconds. It was the tax man. The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) demanded KSh 1.2 billion ($14.117 million) in arrears to be paid within 14 days.
The competitive Kenyan brewing game is tough and like many entrepreneurs, Karanja had weathered many storms. Detractors allege that Keroche products were not prepared hygienically; once she invested in a multi-million dollar plastic bottling plant which was made obsolete overnight by a law banning plastic packaging. On a radio at the office, in the press of busy day, Karanja would hear politicians attacking her beer in Parliament.
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“One member of Parliament alleged that our drink was killing three people in his constituency every day. Considering Kenya has over 220 constituencies, how many people is that?” she asks.
Karanja fought back, she wouldn’t allow anyone to denigrate Keroche products unless they had evidence from the government chemist or the Kenya Bureau of Standards.
It meant the feisty Karanja was often in the media, if she was not threatening to sue the government, she was complaining about raids on Keroche depots by administration police or damage to her billboards by the competition. She has been to court six times to defend her beer business.
This was a world away from her humble beginnings in the age-old story of an entrepreneur spotting a gap in the market. Karanja and her husband, who were traders of manufactured goods, started out as rookie brewers in a cut-throat market. They found themselves in competition with multinational giant, East African Breweries Ltd (EABL).
Their strategy for the alcohol business was simple—to supply beer to thousands of villages in Kenya.
“The brewers who were there, only catered for the upper end of the market and people in the villages were left to drink whatever they could make—the traditional drinks. So we thought, why not make a hygienic and affordable alcoholic product. Our first product, a fortified wine, was released in 1998,” says Karanja.
Karanja says the rough waters have merely made her more determined.
That is, until the brush with the tax man crushed her spirit.
“That was the day I understood why people collapse when running a business. You wonder why a businessman who was getting into his car just died or collapsed in his office.”
On that fateful October evening, Karanja saw the future and it looked terrible. Her eight-year-old brewery, the business she had shed sweat and tears to build, was about to die.
The tax demand did not include interest and penalties. In total she owed the KRA around KSh2 billion ($23.8 million).
“I thought these people wanted to kill me so my employees could find me dead the next morning,” she says.
It got worse. After reading the fax several times, she called the KRA Commissioner’s office in a panic, but she could not get through. It was late in the evening and the government office was closed.
“KRA claimed that the business licence I was given in 1998 was wrong. I was paying 45% tax but they were demanding 65% backdated to 1998. You know how powerful the tax authorities are, not only in Kenya but everywhere in the world. I was literally shaking!”
At the back of her mind, Karanja knew it would be difficult to get a lawyer to fight KRA. Unable to get through to KRA, she went to visit her sick husband. She did not break the news to him that night, instead she went home and had one of the longest nights of her life. She did not sleep a wink.
“I was feeling awful; I panicked because I knew these guys had cornered me. My spirit was devastated,” she explains as her voice breaks.
When she informed her lawyer about going to court, he was hesitant.
Two days later, the lawyer broke the news of court action to her husband on his release from hospital.
“I remember I called the KRA Commissioner and told him I was not going to die. I am strong and I was going to fight!”
Karanja wanted the matter settled out of court but her efforts to get any of the KRA officials before the 14-day deadline were unsuccessful.
“I wanted to show them that they were wrong because I had all my facts,” she says.
It did matter. Time was running out and she knew, if she waited, KRA would freeze her bank accounts and take over her business. So she went to court and fortunately the 14-day order was stopped and after one year the case was thrown out—she had won. After all the pain, angst and fear—she had won.
That was the most horrifying point in her life. There were days she was filled with doubt and fear.
“Fortunately, the judge ruled that it was misuse of power and nobody could explain the KSh1.2 billion ($14.3 million) figure. Furthermore, I was the only one required to pay yet there were 10 other players. I am sure if we did not win that case, Keroche Breweries would be no more,” she says.
In the year she was battling KRA, there were money worries too. The bank was in the process of approving a KSh500 million ($5.9 million) loan for a new plant she wanted to set up for the launch of a new beer called Summit Lager.
“There was so much at stake—our business, our dreams, our investments and other entrepreneurs who looked up to us…”
Fortunately, the loan was approved in December 2007. But her struggles were not yet over, with an on-going case in court, things turned sour when Kenya experienced post- election violence following elections in December 2007. The equipment had been delivered and installed but business only started in June 2008.”
Despite the turmoil in the country, for banks it was business as usual. By February 2008, the bank was knocking on Karanja’s door. She had to start repaying her loan and the interest.
“The bank had warned me they would repossess the equipment if I did not start repaying the loan. I borrowed KSh10 million ($118,835) from a friend without a clue of how I would repay the rest in the coming months,” she says.
Karanja borrowed from the same friend twice.
“I struggled for months. I was entirely dependent on the products and we did not have extra money.”
For three months Summit Lager beer did not move off the shelves.
The sales from a vodka mix, launched in 2007, were not adequate to service the loan. While the company was in the process of growing the Viennese vodka brand they noticed a gap in the beer market—the same market where EABL enjoyed a monopoly.
“People only had one choice. We decided to produce a premium beer product and that is how Summit Lager was born.”
Keroche was in direct competition with EABL’s cash-cow—Tusker. Even the mighty South African Breweries Miller (SABMiller) had been unsuccessful in the Kenyan market and now Keroche found itself staring the giant down.
With a big loan to repay, Karanja was hell-bent on hanging on. She tried every trick in the book and even hired marketing professionals from the competition to help push her products but they too were unsuccessful.
“I understood them; we were fighting a losing battle. The people in the bars were being paid not to sell Summit Lager, our posters were defaced, a client would ask for Summit but they would be told the drink is not available.”
Frustrated, Karanja decided to do something radical. Together with her husband, they went to the market and talked to the distributers in 10 regions around Kenya and offered them an incentive—for every two crates they sold, they would get one free. They also went to the Parliamentary Committee to complain about the unfair competition.
“There is a time we had one million liters in the tanks and had nowhere to take it. Our business was 100% financed by the bank and it would not have been long before they [the bank] came for us.”
Karanja went before the Committee and EABL officials were summoned. She only wanted one meeting because she felt it was a waste of her time.
“I left the meeting disgruntled and told them [my staff] we should fight it out in the market so that I know I was defeated out there instead of a boardroom.”
The courts and then Parliament: it was a long way from the humble beginnings of Keroche. The seed capital was KSh100,000 ($ 1,176) which came from family savings.
The money was used to buy a second hand bottling machine that produced 200 bottles a day—around 10 crates.
“We could not approach the banks but as the business grew, we started attracting financiers,” she says.
When they needed additional capital, the local banks could not loan them the money, so in 2006 they approached Barclays Bank Plc in London for a KSh500 million ($5.9 million) loan. With all that was going on, Karanja, was in constant touch with her bankers. In 2009, her bankers almost gave up on her and a risk audit team from London was sent to look through her books—they spent one month there.
“We were put on a business support program because they also panicked when they saw we were unable to move any beer.”
When having a discussion with one of the auditors, he asked Karanja why she had decided to compete with a multi-national like EABL.
“I remember pleading with him because he was the one who was going to write the report. I begged him to give me an opportunity so that I could prove that a local entrepreneur could make something better than Tusker. I also challenged him to tell me why there should not be a competitor to Tusker.”
The bank official seemed to agree but he was very skeptical. He told her that her business would not last long.
“He gave me three months before I went under. For me to compete with Tusker I had to make a superior drink and I am convinced without doubt that our quality is superior!”
To date, Keroche has two beer brands, two ready-to-drink vodka brands, four spirits and three wines. With a current 5% market share, by end of 2014 Keroche is looking at controlling 20% of the market. Keroche currently owes the bank less than KSh200 million ($2.4 million) and is looking at borrowing KSh1.5 billion ($17.9 million) to expand by producing soft drinks.
<h3>What Did She Learn From Taking On A Giant In The Industry?</h3>
“Whatever you feel you want to start, you must know exactly what you want to do otherwise when you face one challenge, you will run away. Secondly, whatever you are doing you must offer a superior quality and be convinced beyond doubt that it will succeed.”

Beer, Sweat and Tears

She is often portrayed as a tough and ruthless businesswoman, who doesn’t take prisoners. But face-to-face, Wendy Appelbaum shows she is anything but. Open, warm and witty, she makes it clear that being rich comes with the heavy responsibility of giving back to society.
With an estimated net worth of $183 million, Appelbaum is said to be the wealthiest woman on the continent. It’s a ballpark figure she dismisses as “complete rubbish”, while declining to comment further.
“I don’t think the point is how much you’ve got. The point is what you choose to do with it,” she says in her deep, guttural voice. “The more you have, the more responsibility you have to share it with those who don’t.”
She certainly takes this responsibility seriously. Philanthropy has been her focus and passion for years, with a large proportion of her charity work targeting women. Appelbaum has her fingers in many pies. She is a member of the Global Philanthropists’ Circle run by David Rockefeller’s daughter, Peggy, through her New York-based Synergos Institute; a member of Harvard University’s Women’s Leadership Board; the Helen Suzman Foundation as well as the International Women’s Forum and Women Moving Millions, an initiative started by Swanee Hunt, one of oil tycoon H.L. Hunt’s daughters, who motivated 100 women from all over the world to commit a minimum of $1 million for women’s causes, raising a total of $187 million in only a few months.
“For me it’s a no-brainer. It’s an honor and a privilege to give back to the society in which I live,” says Appelbaum, noting her surprise at how few rich women are involved in the world of philanthropy.
“If you look at Harvard’s reserves, or elsewhere, it’s an old boys’ club. It’s because for most of the world’s rich, charity is much more about status than helping the less privileged. Philanthropy is a sign of success. A sign that you have spare capacity. It’s what I call a pissing contest. Pure ego coming back in chunks.”
That needed to change, Appelbaum thought and co-founded the Women’s Investment Portfolio Holdings (Wiphold) in the 1990s, soon after the end of apartheid. A South African woman-controlled company that raises capital for major investments in large corporations, like Old Mutual and Nedbank, with the profits accruing to the trust.
“We were 11 women on the board. The timing was perfect. BEE [black economic empowerment] was becoming the sexy thing of the day. And when you coupled that with women… the deal flow was extraordinary,” Appelbaum recalls.
In just four years, Wiphold turned from an initial $60,000 investment into a $120 million debt-free enterprise listed on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange.
Part of Wiphold’s business philosophy is to benefit poor women. The management team tutored women in townships and rural areas in basic finance and business skills and helped them to form groups to buy shares. Her peers of that time describe Appelbaum as an astute businesswoman, who poured lots of energy into finding solutions to complex matters and new investment opportunities.
“Failure did not exist in her books,” remembers Wiphold group CEO Louisa Mojela.
“Beneath that toughness there is an element of softness, kindness and a huge heart to give to the previously disadvantaged. She treats her colleagues with a lot of respect and humility.”
Appelbaum left Wiphold shortly after it listed, selling her own shares so that previously disadvantaged women could fill her space.
“I thought there was enough strength in the company to continue without me. Although a white woman fell into the previously disadvantaged group at that time, I certainly didn’t feel it myself. I didn’t think I should benefit,” she explains.
Appelbaum looks back at that time with utter satisfaction.
“It was probably one of the most effective boards I have ever sat on. There is no bullshit with women. We don’t waste time out of politeness,” she says.
Men, by contrast, operate in business with an entirely different strategy to women, she believes.
“Men look at life differently. They are not as upfront and as honest as women. They compete in a relatively underhand kind of way.”
It is exactly this different approach to doing business that companies could enormously benefit from if they only realized how much a combination of men and women’s different visions enhances corporate environments, Appelbaum says.
“Women have intuition, which men don’t have, and probably a softer side to us, on a certain level, where compassion does come in, it gives you a much more interesting and varied vision of the world. Men see the big picture, women see detail. And it’s when the two work together that you get a much better outcome for the business. That’s why congruent boards are much more successful.”
Appelbaum, who is often described as being frank to the point of being blunt, certainly knows what she is talking about. In the past 25 years, she has sat on countless boards—most of them dominated by men. She was deputy chair of IT and retailing company Connection Group Ltd and is still a trustee of investment holding trust The Tribune Trust as well as director of Sphere Holdings Ltd, to name a few. Her very first seat, however, was on the board of her father, Donald Gordon’s Liberty Group, when she was made director of Liberty Investors Ltd, the group’s previously listed holding company.
When Gordon appointed his daughter in the early 1990s, he certainly didn’t expect to be challenged by her. You can be sure the feisty Appelbaum had no intention of a subservient role. She piped up at her very first Liberty board meeting, raising questions. Gordon kept a straight face but took his daughter aside as soon as the meeting was over, firmly instructing her never to question him in his boardroom again. Appelbaum remembers how she stood up to him.
“I said: ‘What do you think I’m doing here? If you want a rubber stamp go to the post office. I’m not here to rubber stamp everything’. Nobody else would take him on. I was always the one who had to do it.”
One of the things that irked her most about her father was that “he was a sexist”, she frankly admits. Apart from his own daughter, Gordon never appointed a woman to a management position. He also described businesswomen who didn’t speak much as “very clever”.
“I thought to myself, ‘Oh no, you have a problem.’ I never saw him put a woman in an important position, ever. It frustrated me,” says Appelbaum.
Her father’s condescending attitude was an eye-opener that led her to become a feminist, she says, with American women’s rights activist and author Gloria Steinem, one of her role models, who later became a friend.
“I’m not a bra-burning feminist. I associate closely with Gloria because she has been able to maintain her femininity despite her belief in equality. I believe that women are equal to men if not better. There is nothing, aside from perhaps hard physical labor, that women can’t do as well as men. Many women just haven’t had opportunities.”
South Africa has had a slow start to acknowledging women’s rights and equality. The first recorded woman to work in an office was Miss Letty Impey, who was employed as a secretary by Johannesburg solicitor Henry Lindsay in 1894. Her employment caused such scandal that Impey had to work behind a screen in the open-plan office because it was regarded as “not quite proper” for her to be seen. She even became somewhat of a showpiece as curious men visited the solicitor’s office, peeking behind the screen to catch a glimpse of the female staff member.
Much has changed since then for women, but not nearly enough. South African women continue to struggle for equity in both their personal and business lives. This becomes particularly apparent at management level and in boardrooms, says Appelbaum, who to this day often remains the only female representative: “There are still some boards who really believe that women should be seen but not heard and who are taken aback when you give them an opinion.”
It takes someone of Appelbaum’s poise and unshakable self-confidence to operate and make her mark in those corporate patriarchal environments. Perhaps it is the constant head butting with her father that taught her how to stand up for herself. Perhaps it is the security of her family background and wealth that make her undefeatable—although Appelbaum, who is in her early 50s, says she never once in her life felt she had to prove herself for being more than “just Donald Gordon’s heiress”.
She believes what made her strong and independent is that, apart from her stint as one of her father’s directors at Liberty, she was always an entrepreneur who worked for herself.
“I’ve never felt like a quota. If I wish something to be offensive, I make it offensive. Sitting on boards is not about making friends. It’s about doing the right thing for your shareholders. Corporate governance, for me, is absolutely paramount. But I think it does bother other women in that they feel marginalized.”
And so it became a vital imperative in Appelbaum’s life to help close the gender gap by blazing a trail for other women, something that is done far too little, she says, noting that few women who have made it in the business world care to promote their peers.
“You just have to take a look at some of the women-headed companies in this country and their female representation. You’d be deeply disappointed. Perhaps women don’t want to be seen as rocking the boat or showing prejudice.”
Appelbaum also complains about what she calls “repeat board seats”, where a number of select few women sit on multiple boards, causing the false impression that the gender glass ceiling has shifted upwards.
“If you look at how many women are exposed, it’s very low. There’s no point in one woman sitting on 10 corporate boards and filling out long forms of conflicts of interest prior to meetings. That’s nonsense. Women must get to the point where they widen the spread of individuals exposed at those levels. We’re making slow progress in giving women the equal opportunities they so rightly deserve.”
She believes the 2008 global financial crisis from which the world is struggling to recover offers an opportunity to women to re-position themselves in business and get breaks that usually wouldn’t be accessible to them.
“Companies are struggling due to the recession, and women tend to be much cheaper hires,” Appelbaum explains.
“One of the reasons for that is that women don’t have the confidence to negotiate for themselves. So they tend to get bullied. But they are getting the hires at the moment because their cost to company is lower. There’s a gap and they seem to be taking it. I think the glass ceiling is finally shifting a bit.”
Appelbaum had the benefit of growing up in a family environment where the glass ceiling didn’t exist, where entrepreneurial spirit and business acumen were passed down to her and her brothers, Richard and Graeme, every day.
“My father had a wonderful way of verbalizing what he was doing,” she says, joking that every dinner table conversation in the Gordon’s family home was like being at Harvard Business School: “It was like living in an MBA class.” It was her father who taught her how to identify opportunity and maximize its benefit.
Although a great admirer of her father, Appelbaum is keenly aware that he was far from perfect and has no illusions that her free business education came at a price.
“He wasn’t interested in your opinion; he was interested in you as an audience. My father needed to be told how clever he was all the time. There was that need for affirmation, which most serious executives need. They really need their ego stroked. That’s why, when you look at corporations, very often the succession is not there because they had a bunch of yes-men behind them, telling them that no matter what they did, they were marvelous. And they love that. My father was no different.”
While her brothers found their father intimidating, Appelbaum insists she never did: “I’m not easily intimidated, by anybody. In fact I can’t think of anybody that I find intimidating.”
It thus comes as no surprise that it is her—and not her two older brothers—who tends to be described as a chip off the old block.
“It’s not a bad old block to be a chip of. I am definitely the most similar to my father,” she laughs.
Coming from a family of European immigrants who arrived in South Africa in the mid-1920s with absolutely nothing, Donald Gordon knew from an early age he wanted to make money. Although his dream was to be a scientist, he decided to become an auditor instead, and one day, when auditing an insurance company, he noticed the firm was making profit despite the fact that it was badly run. ‘Surely I can do a much better job,’ he thought… and started the Liberty Group, which later became a major insurance and investment emporium.
Decades later, Gordon sold the Liberty Group to Standard Bank. All three of his children pursued their own business interests, but business associates say he would have handed the firm over to his daughter instead of one of his sons, had he not sold it. Appelbaum, however, says she has no regrets about the sale of the group and is skeptical that a close working relationship with her father—necessary to build up her succession—could have worked out in the long-term.
“I would have found it almost impossible to work for my father; because we are so similar, we used to argue a lot,” she admits.
Since then, she has proven herself many times as a businesswoman in her own right, with pretty much all of her ventures ending in success. She bought De Morgenzon—the Morning Sun—a wine estate in midst of the Stellenbosch winelands, 45 minutes from Cape Town, with her husband, Hylton. Their maiden vintage, a 2005 Chenin Blanc, became the first wine to get five stars in South Africa’s leading Platter’s Wine Guide.
“I’m an absolute perfectionist,” Appelbaum, who also breeds racehorses, describes her modus operandi.
“Whatever I decide to do, I will drive myself insane until it’s right.”
A game player at heart, which she says is based on her deep competitiveness, she was a provincial tennis player as a child and a provincial golfer as an adult, although she only took up the sport at the age of 30. Business to her is like a game, too, one that demands strategic thinking, passion, skill and stamina.
Going into the wine business has been one of the greatest challenges of her career. To produce a top quality organic wine, she has planted wildflowers between the vines for natural pollination, while Baroque music softly floats throughout the vineyard to bio-dynamically support plant growth. Appelbaum has also taken utmost care in selecting the right winemaker for the estate.
“I had four or five winemakers making wine for me. Not only did I look at the quality of the wine they made, but for a number of years, I interacted with them to see who I would get on best with. The winemaker is the one who grows the grapes to their best advantage. What I have to do as the entrepreneur is to give him every single opportunity to make the very best wine he can,” she says.
But there is one major component to wine making that is out of every farmers’ control: the weather. It’s an aspect, Appelbaum admits, she struggles with.
“For a control freak like me, the wine business is a hell of a challenge. It’s very frustrating,” she says.
That’s why she is as hands-on with the day-to-day running of her wine farm as her time allows. The Appelbaums live in a beautiful mansion on top of the highest point of the farm, overlooking the vineyards and the far-reaching, picturesque views of Stellenbosch’s rolling hills.
From here, Appelbaum manages the estate, admitting that she can be a little bit authoritarian.
“It’s my way or the highway. But only because I’m so sure of what I want.”
Her staff appear to appreciate her driven, forthright management style.
“What you see is what you get. She has a very transparent management style. She tells you things straight. She leads with integrity,” says De Morgenzon tasting room manager, Diana Renke.
Integrity is a trait Appelbaum rates highly, and it was when she auctioned a second wine estate, Quoin Rock Winery and Manor Estate, for $6.5 million in December and sniffed corruption that she decided to publicly take on a multi-million dollar industry—to protect her own integrity while fighting a battle for South Africa’s greater good. She laid a complaint with the National Consumer Commission (NCC) after discovering she had competed for the estate with a ghost bidder, someone hired by South Africa’s largest auction group, Auction Alliance, to drive up the price.
Suddenly, Appelbaum, who doesn’t like the limelight and chose not to keep her maiden name because she “did not want to be just associated as Donald Gordon’s daughter”, suddenly found herself in a very public spat with Auction Alliance CEO Rael Levitt.
“Mr. Levitt took me out of my comfort zone because he chose to fight me in the media. That fight with Mr. Levitt was a fight for good. For me, there’s either right or wrong. There’s nothing grey in matter. I believe that I have done South African society a great service because corruption is rife in this country.”
The outcome proved her right: in March, the NCC found Auction Alliance guilty of contravening the Consumer Protection Act by conducting a mock auction and fined it 10% of its annual turnover.
Appelbaum’s love for a “good” fight stems from a friendship with well-known anti-apartheid activist and politician Helen Suzman, who was a family friend of the Gordons and later in life became one of Appelbaum’s mentors.
“She was a no-bullshit woman; tough, clever and not intimidated by anybody. She encouraged me to be feisty and cheeky. She’d fight anybody as long as it was for somebody’s benefit,” remembers Appelbaum.
Appelbaum is a woman without regrets. If there were one, it would be that she never became a doctor—a profession her father, who wanted her to take up accounting, didn’t approve of. When she wasn’t accepted into medical school due to strict quotas on women at that time, she studied psychology instead, with economics as one of her subjects. But her interest in medicine became a lifelong passion, with a large chunk of Appelbaum’s philanthropic investments going towards health.
She is a trustee of her father’s Donald Gordon Foundation, one of the largest private charitable foundations in Southern Africa, which includes the Donald Gordon Medical Centre in Johannesburg. She is also a trustee of CHOC (Children’s Haemotology Oncology Clinics) and recently founded the Wendy Appelbaum Women’s Health Institute for the advancement and improvement of treatment for disorders affecting women.
Only now, much later in her life, has she found time to pursue her childhood dream somewhat: She recently enrolled in a course at Harvard Medical School to learn about the connection between human rights and healthcare.

Tag: August 2012

FORBES AFRICA SOCIAL MEDIA