We invested heavily in trying to secure developments in the area under our organisation’s management. We went door-to-door, shook hands with the influential and not-so-influential, spoke at every available investment and finance conference, laid on field trips (I believe the estate agents call them show days) so we could create the magic and help investors visualise the dream, so it wasn’t a stretch to get the development finance institutions round the table, as well as the commercial banks, to convince them these were great bankable projects. The banks agreed to a two-day session involving one-on-one presentations with interested investors to assess the bankability of each project and explain to each investor whether or not they would fund the project and if yes on what basis.
The day started warm and clammy. I can’t remember exactly how many of us there were, but the mood was serious. I remember from my days in the bank, I didn’t know if my colleagues had teeth because they never smiled! We listened to interminable presentation after presentation. The common thread was that the projects would benefit poor people living in the area and profit was a nice-to-have. I thought trying to convince the bankers of this was a tall ask, but nobody commented on it. Towards the end of the lunch break, I engaged in the obligatory chit-chat. I’m not a people-person at the best of times, but when in Rome. So I asked AJ, one of the financiers, why it was that he left his previous job which by all accounts appeared more interesting and challenging than the current one. “To help the poor people”, he said deliberately and then added hastily, “er um, oh, and the money was REALLY good”. He then motioned to his ear, “I’m just going to put my bullshit filter back in so I can listen to the rest of the presentations”. I should have asked then and there where he bought that handy gadget. I’ve been looking for one ever since.
Many of the investors were rewarded for their myths that day and received letters of intent. The essence of these was that cheap, oops sorry these are banks, finance would be made available provided that the investors came up with the requisite equity, generally in the region of 40% of the project cost. We scheduled bi-monthly meetings with the shortlisted investors to keep tabs on progress with the financing. We were buoyant, and as it would it emerge foolishly so. This was a mug’s game – probably still is? The bid-adjudication process should have been the give-away.
Three weeks, 12-hours a day wading through tome after tome, we could be forgiven for starting to look for the lighter side. Our environmental adjudicator was a serious, considered man with a commanding presence and impeccable manners.
Softly, thoughtfully, “Hmm, these chaps have copied the request for proposal verbatim.”
Later, “hmm, these guys have copied the F&*%4#g request for proposal verbatim.”
And later still, “f**k!”
It was the first time I had ever heard him use a profanity and I had known him about 15 years.
Soon it was the turn of the financial specialist to feel violated. “OMG, these guys have copyrighted their financial model, only it’s mine. I developed it 5 years ago. They’ve even retained the intentional error”.
And then I stood up, lay down on the floor and starting rolling about and flailing with hysteria. The one investor had signed his affidavit THE DESPONDENT. At first i blamed Bill Gates – but no, spell check does include the word “deponent”. The Despondent remained at the top of the leader board for the entire contract negotiation – this was not a compliment. We met him once every two weeks for at least a year before we pulled the plug.
“Do you have the equity?”
“Yes we have the loan finance.”
“Is it contingent on equity?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have the equity?”
“Yes we have the loan finance”.
I found out from my then therapist, who was also the Despondent’s therapist, that he had revealed in a session that he was TERRIfied (ged it) of me. I guess the therapist didn’t know what a capable sleuth I was and that I would put two and two together and work it out. I mean how many of the prospective investors could have had green eyes, a devilish square chin and two pinkies on his left hand.