I have taken a sabbatical from corporate life and as I write this I am experiencing, first hand, the cultures, history and architecture of the ancient world in Eastern Europe and Asia Minor.
Travelling through Turkey, the Balkans and the new countries born of the collapse of the Soviet Union, one cannot escape the striking diversity of the infrastructure that modern citizens of these countries have inherited. There are important lessons we should have learned from the past, but have we?
Roman engineering and construction techniques laid the foundation for our modern construction technology and methods – they created massive infrastructure across 5,000 kilometers of territory from northern Europe to northern Africa and the Black Sea in the east over a period of around 500 years from 27 BC. The Romans were dedicated master civil engineers and constructors using marble and hard rock, such as granite, transported from all corners of their empire to create cities comprising massive structures, water and transport systems, as well as public facilities that could accommodate thousands in stadiums. They invented concrete and the manufacture of kiln-fired red brick. They recycled materials and large building components as the empire expanded and contracted.
“Why did the Romans build so many ruins?” asked a tourist to our great amusement – fact is that their structures have outlasted most others, hence these are still with us. The Romans worked from a master plan, used detailed design techniques, the best materials, and skilled craftsmen. They mastered logistics, manpower and project management like the ancient Egyptians had done 3,000 years earlier.
The Ottoman Empire usurped the Romans in Eastern Europe and Asia Minor for the next 400 years into the 15th century before Eastern European communities started to win back their countries from the oppression of the Ottoman Turks and re-establish their own art, culture and architecture. During their reign, the Ottomans, while perfecting the construction of large domes in their places of worship, chose interlocking soft sandstone and used simpler construction methods. Their structures have not survived as well, with some notable exceptions, requiring regular restoration and preservation, at great cost.
In Istanbul there are two obelisks a hundred meters apart. One is sandstone from the Ottoman era around 1400 AD, but now a crumbling image of its former self. The second is an Egyptian granite obelisk still in almost pristine condition from around 2000 BC, situated upon a still substantial foundation of a Roman hippodrome built circa 330 AD of solid granite, marble and red brick and mortar (cement).
Fast forward to my visit to Romania and Bulgaria, where the fabulous granite and marble structures of the Renaissance period, through to the 18th century post the defeat of the Ottoman Turks, stand proudly while all around are the crumbling relics of Soviet Russia era multi-story mass housing blocks and public buildings – falling apart after only a few decades. The new democracies in these countries have massive restoration and rebuilding programs – substantially funded with EU contributions, which fuels the British, French and German taxpayer debate on who benefits from the EU.
The contrast with the structures of the ancient and antique world is remarkable.
Spotlight moves to Africa and what has been achieved in infrastructure delivery.
The crumbling RDP houses, the years of time and cost overruns on public sector power plants and pipelines, roads and railways. The lack of infrastructure planning and maintenance across our region is in stark contrast to the world class private sector delivery of mines, toll roads, World Cup stadiums, renewable energy plants, commercial and retail infrastructure and private hospitals delivered in recent years.
It would seem obvious, and history tells us, that infrastructure is best delivered by professionals using proven design processes, skilled craftsmen, the appropriate materials and technologies, effective planning and project management techniques.
Infrastructure delivery should not be controlled by politics, cadre deployment, state institutions that have limited technical capacity, tenderpreneurs, or cobbled-together contractors who may be well-networked.
By nature of their training, demonstrable skills and track record, infrastructure delivery is the domain of professional individuals and companies who should, but still wait patiently, be invited into the inner sanctum of government to discuss the master plan for both South Africa and the regional infrastructure backlog that will unlock the future.
The Romans had this sorted – why can’t we?

Where is caesar   when you need him

There is a movement that focuses on ‘consistently contributing to building a peaceful and better world by educating youth through sport practiced in accordance with Olympism and its values’. This is the Olympic Movement. There is no better place to see it than in the Athletes’ Village.
Home to more than 10,500 of the world’s best athletes, from 206 countries, all living in harmony and competing against each other, the Village is a vision of what this ‘better world’ would look like. It demonstrates that unity in diversity is not just an idea, but a possibility.
One of my favorite moments at the Olympics is arriving at the Athletes’ Village. The 206 flags towering over us greet us with a splash of color, representing different languages and cultures from around the world.
Arriving at my first Olympics in Sydney in 2000, I remember trying to take everything in at once and desperately wishing for a glimpse of anyone famous. Excitement is rampant; everywhere you look, photos are being taken and fingers are pointing. Some athletes stare in bewilderment or talk with no sense of purpose, while others have tears streaming down their faces. There are shrieks of delight as the younger athletes spot their first celebrity athlete. There is laughter as the older ones remember how they felt at their first Olympics. The wind in the flags, thrill of the athletes and the vibrant anticipation in the air generates an energy that will hum until the Olympic flame is extinguished and the last athlete leaves the Village.
There is a deeper purpose than just us athletes competing for the world to see and the Olympic Truce Wall reminds us of this. Positioned near the entrance among the flags, the Wall is a symbol for all athletes, coaches, team officials and heads of state to sign as a public declaration to observe and promote peace. At the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, I signed the Wall with UN General Secretary Ban Ki-moon after he reiterated the importance of our responsibilities.
“We are joining our forces together for our shared ideals: sustainability, universality, solidarity, non-discrimination, the fundamental equality of all people,” said Ban.
This equality is what the Olympic Movement – portrayed in the Athletes’ Village – aims to achieve. Every athlete here has the same access to the same resources. We all sleep in similar apartments, train in the same 24-hour world-class gym, have access to the clinic (doctors, dentists, physical therapists, and in-house pharmacy), we ride the same buses to our venues, and eat the same food at the same tables in the same 24,000-square-meter dining hall. Everything provided for all the athletes here is  free. If this is overwhelming and the stress is too much then there is an Athletes’ Area filled with video games, billiards, table tennis, a music area and a mini movie theater to unwind.
As a swimmer, I thought I got up early. That is until I see the boxers drenched in sweat from their morning run or taekwondo athletes going through their routines. Watching the speed walkers train is always interesting, as is guessing which country athletes are from by trying to identify their team kit. The Village is big and it bustles with an endless movement of athletes training, chatting on benches in the landscaped park, or walking to and from the dining hall. Serving about 60,000 meals a day is no joke, athletes like to eat! The dining hall is the most frequented area and a place where you could find yourself (like I did during the London Olympics in 2012) having lunch with younger athletes, sitting next to Roger Federer and laughing at something Kobe Bryant was doing.
This is the culture the Village creates by bringing all of us together on an equal platform. It is also an essential part of a young athlete’s life because they are exposed to such an elite level of athletes which they may never have had access to. I saw Muhammad Ali when he visited the Village in Sydney and this left an indelible impression on me.
We may play different sports, wear different colors, believe in different things and speak different languages but we all have the same determination, the same goal and share the same fact that no one here has given up. Some of my fiercest competitors are my best friends, despite our different backgrounds, because we can find common ground in our goals and challenges and use it to get stronger. Unity in diversity is more than just a possibility, it is a necessity for our survival. In this Village there is no judgment, only encouragement. This is the Olympic spirit.

Hopes, Dreams And Rising Costs

This will be the next village of tears, dreams and heroes

In a continent where music is the lifeblood of so many cultures, a generation of musicians and creatives from Lagos to Cape Town are at risk of falling by the wayside as more and more of them are robbed of their income by the greatest scourge to their industries – piracy.
According to a recent report from the International Federation of the Phonographic Industry (IFPI), legitimate content accounts for less than 10% of the music market in many African nations. Estimates put the proportion of Kenyan pirated music at 80% nationally. Growing up in Lagos, I have memories of sitting in traffic where CDs yet to hit the shops in Europe, let alone Nigeria, were offered through my car window.
Taking Lagos’ infamous Alaba Market as a microcosm of the broader situation, piracy dominates the distribution network, flooding the market with knock-off Nollywood films and bootlegged beats. For the original creators, while they may enjoy popularity, the financial rewards for their efforts range from minimal to non-existent.
This situation is replicated across the continent. In Malawi, artistes like Thocco Katimb end up distributing and selling their own music because intellectual property rights are not robust enough, and the middle men can’t be trusted to not leak CDs to be replicated. The situation in Malawi is complicated further by the government’s stance against musicians selling their music without the hologram copyright sticker as stipulated by the 1989 copyright act.
As a result, life for many creatives across Africa is unstable. Fellow musicians tend to work primarily for the love of their craft; the joy of their art is almost reward enough. But without suitable financial recompense, many talented Africans are being denied the chance to pursue their aspirations.
If the industry climate further dissuades young African talent from producing high-quality art, we as a continent risk losing an entire generation’s worth of cultural output. Who will be the next Fela Kuti? Where will the new 2face Idibia appear? How can Ghana see another Sarkodie, or Uganda another Chameleone, if the industry does not suitably reward those artistes whose music is in demand?
All is not lost, however, and there are areas that must be explored to combat content piracy.
Effective intellectual property protection is the most important step that national governments can take in countries like Nigeria, Malawi, and other flourishing cultural hotspots. In just the same way as encouraging business growth or attracting foreign investment, legal frameworks are central to ensuring that legitimate enterprise thrives.
A hologram on a CD is not enough; there must be suitable measures in place and the will to enforce them. Kenya destroyed over five million pirated items in 2013 and the Kenya Copyright Board has since begun actively monitoring illegal downloads. Other nations would do well to follow this example.
Beyond a crackdown, however, a progressive long-term solution may involve bringing content pirates into the legitimate system so as to better regulate their activity.
Returning to the example of Alaba Market, since 2008, the Nigerian government has been offering traders there the opportunity to sell pirated content legally in return for a registration fee. Legitimizing these circulation channels means artistes and record labels have begun signing distribution deals with established pirating outfits in an effort to recoup at least some earnings from their own intellectual property. While the legal environment catches up with reality, exploring ways to bring these traders into the fold may be a realistic way forward.
Technology also offers solutions, providing an alternate revenue stream for struggling artistes. Kenya’s Mdundo.com, a digital platform enabling music distribution without a recording label, has been touted as a potential saviour. For $1, customers can download five tracks via a code they receive on a scratch card.
Piracy in Africa is a significant threat not just to the creative industries but to society too, with much of the profit funding organized crime. From the greats of old like King Sunny Ade, Manu Dibango and Ali Farka Toure to the new kids on the block, African music has long had an important place on the global scene. The cold, rational argument for greater intellectual property protection is certainly needed, but a more emotional appeal to the will of all Africans to nurture and encourage our continent’s brightest talents is compelling. Both must be made with equal energy if we are to keep those lights burning.

DJ-Cuppi-etch

‘Who Will Be  The Next Fela Kuti?’

Firms like to talk about investing in Africa. But what they are really looking at is a jumble of 54 sovereign countries, with their own laws, regulations, cultures and languages. Only a few people are knowledgeable about all the countries. Among them is Riaan Manser.
Forty-year-old Manser grew up in Richard’s Bay, on South Africa’s east coast, where he spent most of his childhood roaming the outdoors. He studied human resources because he wanted to work with people. Manser took a job with private healthcare provider Prime Cure in Cape Town, selling insurance.
“One Sunday afternoon, I realized I wasn’t completely happy. I did my job just to make money. I decided my life was going to be much more than that. I made the decision to change my life,” he says.
A year later, in 2003, Manser mounted his bicycle and went on a 26-month ride across Africa, peddling 37,000 kilometers through 34 countries. He got to know Africa and its people slowly, learning important lessons in life.
“When I left South Africa, I wasn’t very organized. I had zero visas in my passport. I had to negotiate everywhere I went. I would have to remain calm and negotiate in extremely stressful situations, when I was freaking out inside,” he says.
With every country he explored, Manser came to understand different cultures and dynamics, over time he  developed exceptional people skills. He gained wisdom that can only come with experience and, as he firmly believes, trial and error.
“I want people to understand that success comes from failure. We like to learn from other people’s mistakes very much, but the problem is that you normally don’t learn as astutely as you would if you learnt on your own. You’re generally most successful if you are willing to take a calculated risk.”
His insights have attracted the attention of numerous major multi-nationals from the mining, retail and financial services sectors, which Manser—who meanwhile also paddled 5,000 kilometers around politically unstable Madagascar and circumnavigated Iceland—now consults on how to expand into remote parts of Africa. Among them are mining giant Anglo American Platinum, heavy machinery manufacturer Bell Equipment, South African supermarket chain Shoprite and Zurich Bank International.
“I speak to CEOs but also to staff, who will be deployed to African countries, telling them what they can expect on the ground—be it regarding infrastructure, cultural issues, bribing or how to make business decisions in a foreign cultural context,” he says.
Manser, who remarkably never paid a single bribe during his adventures, says integrity, morality and patience are the keys to unlocking Africa’s potential.
“You must make [it] clear upfront that there is no room for negotiation about bribes. The most important thing is not to seem desperate. Desperation can be smelled a mile away. Even when I was panicking inside, I didn’t show one ounce of desperation,” he says.
Instead of paying kickbacks to smooth the rocky road of expansion, companies, especially those exploring natural resources, should focus on building good relationships with both national governments and local communities, suggests Manser.
“It’s vital that companies stop regarding Africa as a place where you can just take out resources. There has to be some giving… a generator for a village, digging a well. Communities don’t want to hear promises of better infrastructure five years down the line. They want to see improvements to their lives right away,” he says.
Manser knows how customs officials must be approached in Ghana compared to Angola, how to deal with government departments in Nigeria and how to open negotiations in Mauritania. Although his advice often seems almost obvious, at least in hindsight, it’s based on insights that can only be gained from having been there and having done it.
Patience, however, is key to commercial success in almost all African countries, says Manser.
“Don’t rush people. Don’t try to bulldoze them. The humility that comes through patience will lead to trust and ultimately to respect for each other. It’s the basis for building good relationships,” he says.
But the decision to be patient can’t be made in a boardroom. It’s something managers have to learn in a foreign context, on a day-to-day basis, says Manser.
Another key requirement for successful expansion is selecting the right people to do the job, Manser believes. In the small island nation of Madagascar, that has been experiencing years of political turmoil after a coup d’état in 2009, consolidation is seen as much more important than expansion.
“People just want stability. They want short discussions with firm results. So whoever negotiates on behalf of your company needs to know that,” he says.
In the end, it all comes down to good leadership: a lesson—and probably the most difficult one—Manser learnt when his travel partner Dan Skinstad, who has mild cerebral palsy, fell out of the boat when they circumnavigated Iceland in a two-man kayak, and almost drowned in the icy waters.
“You need clarity of thought in difficult situations. If there is a crisis, you have to make a decision with clarity, not in a panic. You take stock of what you promised, of what you want to achieve and then implement what is necessary to get you there,” says Manser.
Good leaders acknowledge other leaders. When Manser returned from Africa, former president Nelson Mandela was so impressed with his feat, he requested a meeting with him, saying Manser was an inspiration to the continent. Manser has made that his goal.

Tag: cultures

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Where is caesar when you need him

This will be the next village of tears, dreams and heroes

‘Who Will Be The Next Fela Kuti?’

Two Wheels Two Years 34 Countries 37,000km