Stephan Eyeson started a basketball business at the age of 19. That venture failed, so he tried the data business instead. He is working and playing hard.



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First, the facts.



Africa has a data problem. For all the talk about data being
the new oil, the continent comprises about 12.5% of the world’s population but
only accounts for less than 1% of research output, according to global
information and analytics firm, Elsevier. 



And Survey 54, an AI mobile survey platform solving the problem of data collection on the continent, wants to offer a solution. Founded by Stephan Eyeson, Survey 54 focuses on providing good quality data essential for governments and private businesses to accurately plan, fund and evaluate their activities.



READ MORE | <a href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/entrepreneurs/2019/10/02/owning-the-african-narrative/">Owning The African Narrative</a>



“Data in Africa is such a prevalent problem, in a sense of
when you are going to start up a business, it is hard for you to get consumer
data on say ‘how many people eat out in Lagos every day? what is the
transactional value? what are the types of things that people eat? what do they
want to eat etc?’ All these things are available in the West but for people who
want to move into Africa for business, how do they get their data to make their
decisions and how do we make it really easy for them and not just for a startup
but for even governments and larger businesses,” says Eyeson.



Fresh out of a master’s program in innovation and management from Loughborough University in the United Kingdom (UK), Eyeson joined Survey Monkey, an online survey development cloud-based software as a service company, as part of the team responsible for building their enterprise function in London as well as looking after customers in the EMEA (Europe, Middle East and Africa). After learning the ropes, he decided to branch out to start his own company to offer a more robust and tailored solution for the African market.



<blockquote class="wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow"> &#8220;For people who want to move into Africa for business, how do they get their data to make their decisions and how do we make it really easy for them?&#8221; </blockquote>



“The problem around data in Africa and emerging markets is a
massive one. So, for us, it’s about how do we become a data platform not just
for a company but for governments to help them understand their people easier.”



Data is the first step. Then you need intelligence around
that data to enable you to make objective analysis that will shape your
decision-making process, as well as provide the foundation for policy-making
and budgeting.



“Instead of hiring an agency to go to Ghana and do a face-to-face interview, for example, we look at how governments can get mobile data faster and then how they are able to manipulate that data to get the results they need,” says Eyeson.



READ MORE | <a href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/entrepreneurs/2019/10/07/the-100-trillion-opportunity-the-race-to-provide-banking-to-the-worlds-poor/">The $100 Trillion Opportunity: The Race To Provide Banking To The World’s Poor</a>



Due to the dearth of knowledge, Eyeson’s unique
understanding for the data space is relied on by many startups and larger
businesses who depend on his expertise to drive results in Africa. 



“Stephan has great expertise in strategy and high-level
corporate business development. Survey 54 has and will be instrumental for
companies to make decisions within Africa and emerging markets, making it
easier to use and understand consumer data. A platform like Survey 54 is
essential for companies operating on the continent,” says Nana Adomako, head of
UK &amp; Ghana growth at Taptap Send.



<figure class="wp-block-image"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1024" height="683" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980-1024x683.jpg" alt="" class="wp-image-41956" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/BYRIGBY-980.jpg 2048w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" /></figure>



Born to Ghanaian parents in London, Eyeson’s first stint at entrepreneurship began in his early years at university, when his dream to become a professional basketball player was shattered.



“I had a scholarship into America for basketball and that
scholarship was taken away due to some technicality with my results so I
couldn’t go and so I started a basketball business instead when I was 19. It
helped Americans play in Europe and Europeans play in America. I made the
system easier. So, players paid a monthly fee to get seen and coaches paid to
get access to talent.” 



But unfortunately, the business failed to take off because the market was not big enough for Eyeson to remain profitable. 



The data business, on the other hand, is huge: worldwide
revenues for data and business analytics are forecast to reach $189 billion
this year and $274.3 billion by 2022, according to technology market research
firm IDC. Even though Survey 54 is in its first full year of business, the
company has already secured contracts with multinationals like Colgate, amongst
many others.



READ MORE | <a href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/entrepreneurs/2019/04/30/a-germ-of-an-idea/">A Germ Of An Idea</a>



“I was one of Survey 54’s first clients and it has been a
pleasure watching Stephan grow the company into what it is today, working with
some of the world’s largest brands. 



“There is a significant lack of data in the region so the
need for a sophisticated data insight product is essential and I believe
Stephan’s mission-driven leadership style will enable the company to become one
of the largest software businesses driving investments to the content,” says
Yvonne Bajela, Principal and Founding Member at Impact X Capital.



The company has recently secured a spot on the coveted
Startupbootcamp platform in Cape Town. While Survey 54 is trying to secure a
first-mover lead in data on the continent, challenges remain. As the company
scales, they will need to overcome the language barrier across the African
continent and learn to interpret data by bringing the cultural context into the
surveys organizations are seeking.



Eyeson has his eyes set on moving into the US markets as a
long-term plan, but for now, the goal is transferring the abundant and
ubiquitous asset of data in Africa into millions for his startup.

BYRIGBY-990

Having A Ball With Data

TLH_2018

The Two Faces That Mean Business

Mahlet Afework is yet to arrive. Her shop, Mafi, in a busy commercial complex opposite Edna Mall on the arterial Cameroon Street in Addis Ababa is a white oasis. A slim-waisted shop attendant behind a white desk informs that Mafi – also her boss’ nickname – is on her way.
It allows sufficient time for first impressions – summery hand-woven white tops and tunics with colorful Ethiopian prints on the racks, but the best way to assess a designer’s innate talent is – always – her shop itself.
In Mafi’s case, turn your gaze towards the ceiling. A small leafless tree, branches painted white, is fastened to it, intertwined with white bulbs. Mafi, trim, trendy, dressed in white and with lime green fingernails, walks in a minute later, and explains the origin of this aerial art work.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29987 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4372.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
“That was an old tree trunk I found discarded in a friend’s house. Didn’t want to leave it that way, so converted it into a chandelier,” she offers.
In many ways, as you learn later, it is a metaphor for Mafi’s own life. What would have been wasted was spruced, primed and put to use.
At first glance, this fashion designer with a raving clientele amongst Addis Ababa’s swish set represents the new wave of young Ethiopian businesswomen making a mark on the country’s creative conscience.
Mafi is smart, articulate and possesses a sound knowledge of her industry – she knows its inner workings from the air-conditioned malls of Addis Ababa to the bustling bazaars of Mercato and the rural villages of Dorze, 500 kilometers from the city, from where she sometimes sources her fabrics, weavers and ideas.
She talks about her fashion outings on the ramps in New York. She revels in branded Western wear, but laments they are not easily available – as yet – in the malls in Addis Ababa. She is a daring disciple of the latest fashion fads, she has a TEDtalk under her stylish belt, and like most young people in the city, is grateful for her freedom.
You ask her how it all started, and then you get a different picture. Her success and the lifestyle trappings in her store acquire another dimension: the white décor looks like empty spaces she wants to fill. It is never too easy for a woman, and for a 26-year-old at that, to have come this far. She must have started early. Really early.
She was only eight, the youngest of five children, when her mother left them for Israel for medical treatment. A year later, sadly, their father passed away. And her mother?
“She never came back,” says Mafi, her almond eyes finally welling up. She never came back – until Mafi turned 18.
Before tragedy struck, it was a good life. Her father worked hard, he sent the children to private school and family get-togethers were fun-filled.
“But all of a sudden, nobody came to visit us…It was difficult,” says Mafi. “The one thing we learnt was responsibility. We didn’t get spoilt. I started working at the age of 16. By the time I met my mother again, I was already a designer.”
She is not willing to divulge the details of what kept her mother in Israel: she lets on that she may have not had legal travel documents or that she was working as a housemaid, and didn’t have the means, although she consistently sent the children money, including “pocket money” for her youngest child.
“I don’t usually talk about that part of my life, but my mother is my hero. I totally get the situation she was in, and am always thankful for her,” says Mafi.
While still in school, Mafi was swayed by Hollywood hip-hop and took to rap music.
“Ethiopia is traditional, and there were few rappers in Addis, let alone female rappers. I saw the gap and decided to become one. I was very active in school. Then we released a single, called Shalom Africa, when I was in grade 9. The radio stations in Addis Ababa played our music.”
And Mafi got noticed. Yosef Gebre Jossy, the famous recording artiste in Addis Ababa, asked her to record an album with him. She said yes, and also told him she could design clothes for his music video, Jossy In Z House. From her tiny room at home, the schoolgirl designed jackets, shorts and skirts for the artistes. The young girl would leave home early in the morning, to source fabrics from the crowded Mercato market, bringing reams of cotton home – on her own.
Thereafter, Mafi studied nursing for two years – “as there were no fashion schools in Ethiopia” – but subsequently left it midway as her heart was not in it.
“While I was studying, I got famous and couldn’t go to college because people would recognize me in the taxi station. And I didn’t have enough money to buy a car. So I decided to make money. I have done 15-30 fashion shows in Addis Ababa over the last three years.”
For her designs, Mafi draws inspiration from her country’s rich culture. For her ‘Last Resort’ collection that she showed in New York, she used the Axum obelisk as a motif. She is currently working towards opening an online store for the international market.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29986 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_4467.jpg 682w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
“We have a huge diaspora community in the US. I am now thinking of export. I want to hire more weavers, and make more money as I have responsibilities towards my workers as well. This year will be different,” she says, adding she made Birr 1 million (about $50,000) over the last nine months.
“Everyday, I find something interesting to do,” she says, as we step out into the hot Ethiopian sun, and she dabs on pink lipstick and puts her shades on. Mafi is ready to roll.

IMG_4372

Singer.  Seamstress. Survivor.

It’s a feat getting three powerful women in the same room, at the same table, on a Monday morning. Louisa Mojela, Gloria Serobe and Wendy Luhabe make it seem everyday. They are hard-hitting businesswomen. Yet five minutes into the pleasantries, you get a different feel as you repeatedly hear the words ‘trust’ and ‘happy’.
Trust is what built their company, and happy is the attitude they sport, the clothes they wear and what they call their two-storied, artfully-appointed office in Johannesburg’s leafy Houghton suburb.
“It’s the happy house,” says Mojela, Group CEO and co-founder of WIPHOLD (Women Investment Portfolio Holdings), one of South Africa’s best-known first generation empowerment companies owned and led by women.
True to Mojela’s word, a visit to WIPHOLD House, and random conversations with smiling staff, from the secretary to the finance manager, reveals a camaraderie that appears not prompted, not effected. But this corporate haven has been built on the back of 20 years of trials, tribulations – and triumph.
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In its 20th year, WIPHOLD has a net asset value of more than $200 million; and this says a lot about a company that started with seed capital of $100,000 at a time when BEE (Black Economic Empowerment) was a little-known acronym.
At its core is a women’s empowerment model that has given financial power to grassroots black South African women from across the spectrum in Nelson Mandela’s Rainbow Nation. It’s a model that has stood the test of time, and the truth is, is still going strong, run by two of the four founders.
Today, WIPHOLD is 55% black owned, run with an all-female board, and as the first BEE company to establish permanent broad-based shareholding, has more than 1,200 direct and 18,000 indirect women beneficiaries through the WIPHOLD Investment Trust, more than 250,000 indirect women beneficiaries through the WIPHOLD NGO Trust, and is represented across South Africa. These days, it is also an operating company with interests in financial services, cement and coal.
But behind the WIPHOLD success is a story of grit, gumption and tireless tenacity. It is the story of four women, called the ‘Wip Four’ by the press in the early days, who founded a company weeks before a free South Africa was emerging from the dark shadows of apartheid.
Apart from Mojela, Luhabe and Serobe, the fourth founder, Nomhle Canca, is no longer associated with WIPHOLD, she left in 2002, but has fond memories of those early days (see box).
Luhabe, a thought-leader and mentor listed by FORBES as one of the most powerful women in African private equity, says their vision worked from the beginning because it was not about them.
“It was a vision to serve, to pioneer something that had not been done before, and because of that, it took us almost two years to get to a point we felt we had a sustainable business model. WIPHOLD’s vision is powerful because we didn’t rush into it,” she says.
“We wanted to build an institution that survives long after us. It also meant for a while we were the ones to add features to the baby,” says Serobe, CEO of Wipcapital and one of the two cofounders running WIPHOLD today.
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How they did it
WIPHOLD was formed in 1994, but the deliberations had started a year before, when it was apparent South Africa was on the cusp of a new world, one that would bring black South Africans into the mainstream. History was about to be made, and the ‘Wip Four’ wanted to spearhead it.
The epiphany came at a workshop in Johannesburg aimed at telling black business about the new opportunities opening up.
“That workshop was full of men,” says Mojela. Along with Serobe, Mojela was already working at the time at Standard Corporate &amp; Merchant Bank (SCMB) in Johannesburg, while Luhabe was an accomplished entrepreneur running her own company Bridging The Gap, which equipped black graduates with corporate skills.
And so it came to pass that in Luhabe’s small office in Melville in Johannesburg, the four met every Tuesday evening for 18 months, brainstorming over endless cups of tea, snacks and mangoes (when in season). Their vision took shape on the drawing board, slowly but surely.
At the heart of this vision were women from South Africa’s small towns and villages. Real women who were not numbers, but had names, jobs and who poured their sweat, blood and tears into their savings.
The vision was based on a simple premise: that these women would be given the opportunity to invest in South Africa’s biggest companies. So far, they knew only about savings, now they would learn about investments. “The enabling vision was created to give them a sense of ownership and empowerment at the same time, which is quite unique,” says Luhabe.
It is to WIPHOLD’s credit that for the last 20 years, it has been able to pay its shareholders dividends.
“Again, [we have been] very different from most empowerment models where only a few benefit. Our shareholders will confirm they have had benefits out of their investments,” says Luhabe.
David Shapiro, a Johannesburg-based investment expert and Director of Sasfin Securities, says WIPHOLD had an advantage as they had a head start.
“They started 20 years ago and stuck to it. They went through ups and downs but were fortunate. As early entrants, it allowed them to do prime deals. They are well-connected and highly competent ladies.”
The story of WIPHOLD cannot be told without harking back to the nineties, when the company reached its zenith. It was not easy doing business in a new South Africa.
“We underestimated the uphill [task] until we were in it. There was a big mountain to climb, and we had to break it down. Whether it was about meeting chauvinist or racist men, we knew this was the world we were getting into and we had to adapt with a lot of pain. The challenges were just too layered,” says Serobe.
Did the black brotherhood help? “One of our biggest challenges was our very own black brothers,” says Mojela. “We all came from historic disenfranchisement, and it was clear they were going to move ahead looking for these opportunities for themselves. But we thought, ‘we are big girls, we will hold our own hands; after all there was the four of us’.”
The rapport between the four didn’t happen overnight. It was built on a common vision. Mojela calls it the “glue” that bound them.
“The BEE was just an appendix for many of our male counterparts. For us, it is the reason for being,” says Mojela.
The first task was to come up with seed capital of $100,000. Each of the four founders had to chip in. Serobe was the first – helped by her young brother-in-law. Mojela was the last, taking three months to source funds from friends and family. “Credit to my partners [who waited],” she says.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-6095" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/FWA-2014-Apr-May-016-022-FOCUS-LEAD-Wiphold-MR-006-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" />
What ensued was two years of slog, covering South Africa’s nine provinces with roadshows, convincing the women it was time they took responsibility for their finances, and shift from savings to investment.
One of the first workshops was at the Carlton Hotel in Johannesburg. They told the women, although they were providers of labor and consumers of goods and services, they had no part in wealth creation.
“Our strength was in numbers. The minute we decided to use women in the plural, it was only befitting we went out and galvanized them,” says Mojela.
“We had to convince them what we were doing had integrity and their hard-earned monies were not going to be misused. We also had to convince the business community we knew what we were doing,” says Luhabe.
Skepticism also came from the corridors of power. “We had no political credentials. People asked, ‘who are you?’” says Mojela.
So they looked towards the private sector for counsel.
Although Mojela, Serobe and Canca came from the banking industry, they were venturing into a sector they knew little about. They looked to the few who bought into their vision. One such was Geoff Snelgar, who they call their ‘godfather’. He offered them his boardroom on 66 Marshall Street.
In 1995, Snelgar formed Baobab Solid Growth, a listed entity with a market cap of R30 million (approx. $8 million at the time) that would incorporate black shareholders. Snelgar met with a number of potential empowerment shareholders, including Mojela and Canca, when they shared their vision.
“I thought it was a fantastic vision and, just as importantly, I really liked these people and their story. We agreed I would reserve a 10% shareholding in Baobab until the ladies could afford to pay for it. It was a verbal arrangement, promised completely on trust. Where most empowerment men I spoke to were hesitant, the ladies were the only ones who said ‘Yes, we want in. Let’s do it’. Who would’ve thought such an ordinary downtown meeting would pave the way for such a tremendous profit?” says Snelgar, now Chairman of Capricorn Capital Partners UK Limited, in the recently-released book commemorating WIPHOLD’s 20 years.
Baobab’s share price kept rising, and its market cap went to R3.5 billion (approx. $574 million) over four years. Baobab eventually became Theta, which later became African Bank Investments.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-6096" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/FWA-2014-Apr-May-016-022-FOCUS-LEAD-Wiphold-MR-003-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />
“If I could pinpoint one thing that impressed me most about WIPHOLD, it’s their integrity. A huge number of companies were set up under the auspices of broad-based economic empowerment – but were in actual fact a front for siphoning profit to a select few. WIPHOLD faced that choice many times. I remember the girls complaining about the lucrative opportunities they were missing out on. But they stuck to a vision that ensured their women beneficiaries were top priority,” says Snelgar.
“We have had to trade off certain things and let go of opportunities to make this work. We would have been billionaires as we speak if we hadn’t taken this route,” says Serobe. “We are both commercial and social, that’s why we are not billionaires,” adds Mojela.
Even as the ‘Wip Four’ were garnering female shareholders at the roadshows, they had to put something tangible on the table, and that was a portfolio of investments to the tune of R39 million (approx. $8.66 million) in 1997. The plan was a public offer for women only. This led to the creation of the foundation of WIPHOLD – the WIPHOLD Investment Trust.
“For every woman who subscribed in WIPHOLD in 1997, when we did the IPO, it fit that we created an investment trust they could participate in at no cost to them,” says Mojela.
The women were allocated units in the trust equating the number of shares they subscribed to in WIPHOLD. Mojela says it was important to form the trust as the custodian of the WIPHOLD vision with superior voting powers to WIPHOLD, just in case there came a point in the future when the company’s empowerment values were threatened.
The day the IPO opened is one none of the four founders will forget, as it was full of emotion and color.
“It was a very interesting day,” says Mojela. Cheques poured in from women from across the country, men called on behalf of their wives and daughters, and women from all walks of life, from madams to maids, streamed to their office in downtown Johannesburg holding affidavits., wanting to sign up. The two years of galvanizing them were finally paying off. In the end, it raised R25 million ($5 million).
“This was historic. Women had never raised that amount in the country. None of the BEE companies in existence then had. We were able to do that because we had prepared the ground in the first two years. The women were ready with their savings and wanted to participate,” says Luhabe.
And that was not all.
Next step was making the most of the opportunities.
“We needed R500 million (approx. $100 million) to take the company forward. There was an investment opportunity that required R250 million ($50 million) in 1998 so we went back to our shareholders with a ‘rights offer’. We knew it was going to be uphill, but the surprise was that in 12 months, these women were able to put R76 million ($12 million) on the table,” says Mojela. The remainder was privately placed with institutions.
With expansion and more investments came the challenge of adhering to the company’s original vision. “Institutions come with big cheques and big demands. Up until then, the company was 100% women, and now, we were diluted significantly,” says Mojela.
What entailed was a painful transition.
The institutions wanted liquidity. So WIPHOLD became the first women-only empowerment company to list on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange in March, 1999. The net asset value of the company then was a whopping R1 billion ($162 million).
Making new ground
Up until then, WIPHOLD had been an investment portfolio company, so the founders decided to embark on financial services, an industry they knew on account of their backgrounds in finance. They took this strategy to the shareholders, who signed off.
“But as we implemented it, hell broke loose,” says Serobe.
The shareholders felt this was competition.
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“We were going to do things they did. They assumed we were miserable women who wouldn’t attempt anything more serious than micro-lending. Our idea was dwarfed in their heads. But we bought the top team of investment bankers – the Princeton and Stanford types – in the country. Our model now went head on with that of our shareholders,” says Serobe.
And this led to the genesis of Wipcapital in September 1999, which Serobe took charge of in 2001.
It was probably the most difficult phase for WIPHOLD, when it had to de-list in 2003. “It was a tense period,” says Mojela. “Business was not as expected, our salary bills were huge, we had to downsize, and were still hounded by shareholders. We had to go back to the drawing board. We decided the only salvation was to de-list from the stock exchange, return the cash to our shareholders and be left alone. In order to pay out, somebody needed to help us with hard cash. Ultimately, we got Old Mutual and did a scheme of arrangement.”
“We saw the original vision falling apart. The listing gave liquidity, but its downside was women had become a minority in their own company. The country and private sector weren’t ready for this. Through a scheme of arrangement, we bought off everybody including the women shareholders and brought them back into the shareholding via the trust,” says Serobe.
In 2005, WIPHOLD struck a headline-grabbing BEE deal with Old Mutual, which now owns 32.8% of the company.
“Starting from scratch after de-listing, WIPHOLD only had R166 million ($20 million) of [unlisted] assets. But today, we are a stable company with happy employees. We have grown from four to 40 employees, and will go from 40 to 400 in another 20 years,” says Mojela.
Miranda Feinstein, an executive consultant at Johannesburg law firm Edward Nathan Sonnenbergs, who was the architect of and continues to chair the WIPHOLD Investment Trust, and has known the founders for a long time, says she has seen their will strengthen with every adversity.
“Along the way mistakes were made; at times institutions treated them somewhat dismissively, but they always bounced back. At times, I saw they were disconsolate but one of their greatest traits is endurance. To this day, the WIPHOLD Trust is making financial benefits available to its women beneficiaries,” she says.
To reinforce their original vision, WIPHOLD also created the NGO Trust, addressing projects for women and children. Its creation increased the number of women to more than 250,000 beneficiaries, while the beneficiaries of the original trust stood at 18,000 (all of who participated in the 1997 IPO).
Through the WIPHOLD Trust, 80% of its income and profits are distributed to beneficiaries, and the remaining 20% to charitable organizations dealing with women and children. The two trusts account for 32.5% of the group’s shareholding.
Nongovernmental organizations like Tshwaranang Legal Advocacy Centre (TLAC), a center that promotes the rights of women to live free of violence, confirm they receive significant financial benefits from WIPHOLD.
&#8220;Last year, we received R270,000 ($25,000) from WIPHOLD. Their benefits help a lot to meet our operational costs,&#8221; says Shireen Motara, Executive Director of TLAC.
Recognition has come from abroad as well. The International Institute for Management Development (IMD) business school in Switzerland has used the WIPHOLD model as a case study.
WIPHOLD is now taking the model internationally. “The WIPHOLD story can be replicated anywhere in the world. We are taking the same workshops we did in South Africa in 1994, to the rest of Africa, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Ghana, Zambia, Mozambique and Ivory Coast,” says Mojela.
WIPHOLD has partnered with Jidong Cement, a Chinese cement company, to build a plant in Limpopo, South Africa. Like financial services, the cement sector here is not known to be a business for women.
“But that’s exactly what excites us,” says Serobe.
The cement plant is a R3 billion ($280 million) project that will come online in 2015.
In 2009, WIPHOLD entered into a deal with Sasol Mining, leading to the creation of one of the first black-women controlled mining companies in South Africa, with 51% owned by WIPHOLD.
WIPHOLD has come far, and there have been other women-led investment companies like Nozala after them, but has the country been able to keep up?
“I can understood why 20 years ago, the captains of industry, our black brothers and the women behaved the way they did, but today, I have no patience for all three, especially women who don’t have the appetite to take on challenges. They fear trying. We had hoped in 1994 that by now, there would be many WIPHOLDs. Yet, 20 years later, in the same model, there is not another entity,” says Serobe.
The legacy they leave behind is not numbers, but a generation of African women who have learned to invest and be independent.

To The Power Of  Three

It has since dawned on some in the tourism industry that unless they use their stature and influence to lobby their governments to do more to protect the species and by extension, their business, they stand to lose out. Their argument is that if there are no rhinos to see, they cannot sell the Big Five to potential tourists.
The world’s most powerful women should be getting into something that some might say is not exactly their business: the physical, emotional and sexual abuse of women less powerful than themselves.
There are businesswomen’s associations that help to fund halfway stations where women recovering from or fleeing their abusive partners can learn business principles that can help them be independent once they leave their tormentors. Such associations should lobby their governments to improve conditions of girls and women and tighten punitive measures for those who hurt, abuse and marginalize women.
The logic is simple. The more women do not need to depend on men, the less they will tolerate abusive men. The more women there are in business, especially if they are confident in their femininity, the greater the chances of the feminine motif becoming the norm in the business world and in the executive suite.
It is not enough to assume that being a woman means you can understand the plight of a woman in an abusive relationship. Even if you did, unless there are programs in place in your  business that recognize the debilitating effects of patriarchy on productive capacity and therefore the bottom line, you are no better than those who see or hear no evil.
I am not holding my breath that business is ready for such a leap of faith in the interest of abused women and marginalized girls. Far too many still go with the logic that the business of business is business. Everything else is someone else’s business – the preacher, the teacher or the politician.
I continue hearing about how women boast about what they have had to go through, implying that others who want to attain the same status must also grin, bear and get on with it. And still some insist that having a female boss is better for one’s self-worth.
I don’t know if it is just me, but one hardly sees powerful women – except in their capacity as government officials or public representatives – become champions of the anti-woman abuse movement. The rest of the time, it is the less glamorous women in non-governmental organizations, academia or in the arts, who are left to make the big deal of this social scourge and drain to the economy.
It seems to me that powerful women do not want to risk their power reputation by associating themselves with what they might see as being weak or the doormat at home.
I can see why some women would not want to contaminate their reputation as tough task masters who drive a hard bargain by confessing to have been pushed around like British TV personality Nigella Lawson. But it is the recognition that there are many other Nigellas and that businesswomen’s associations can become socially relevant and inspirational to the women who do not yet own a power suit or have not yet been invited for high tea.
There is also the economic impact of women who are prevented from earning a living and being financially independent by abusive partners, or who are forced to divert their earnings into areas that are not as productive as they could have been.
Women should not be forced to buy make-up only if the intention is to hide the marks and scars on their faces if they could be investing that money into areas that grow their wealth and independence.
There is also the denialism in the top echelons of business that makes top businesswomen or executives pretend that abuse is only suffered by others with a less net worth than themselves or who hold mundane jobs.
Some may say that I am blaming the victim by not addressing the patriarchal power that places women in these situations. Perhaps I am. What is clear to me though is that it is those who feel and have known the discomfort of a stone in the shoe, who are best placed to remove the stone. Demanding that whoever placed the stone there remove it, might slow you down.
The stories we hear about women needing to juggle being wives, partners, parents and business executives should not be used as a demand for sympathy or a self-pat on the back. It should be a catalyst for change that is driven by those who understand the pain and unnecessary hurdles it has brought and ensure it does not happen to other women.

Tag: Businesswomen

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