Sierra Leone - still NOT very business friendly

Seven months later, doing business in Sierra Leone is as easy as 1, 2.. er.. (a[ x] - 3q) +r(2) /7(x)

When news came out in June 2007 that The Business Registration Act passed unopposed, including the removal of the advance tax payment on registration, it was applauded in many circles as a crucial step towards making Sierra Leone more business friendly. Yay! I even bigged it up in the June 07 newsletter. There was even talk that the registration process should only take 24hrs after completed registration is submitted. Fantastic!

So in December I took my “returnee from the Diaspora” self accompanied by my brother-in-law to enquire about this new 3 step registration process and if I could really get through the registration in 24hrs. The dude from the NRA started going through the list of steps we had to go through, it started getting confusing, but even more so when he said we then needed to go to NRA to pay our tax. Hold up… “TAX? WHICH TAX?”… “bu.. but the advance tax has been abolished!” He shot us that look that said “young man, don’ tell me what I know.”

Anyway, we were a bit shocked so I decided to do my own enquiries. It turns out the guy from the NRA was indeed right. Even though, this list of wonderful things that would make Sierra Leone a much more friendly place to do business had been passed in Parliament since JUNE 2007, it had not been gazetted by the President. Until that is done, it’s as good as never been passed.

Well, Mr President, I know you told us about how you want to run the country as a business and even in this interview with Newsweek (just last week) you said “And we have continued to make our country investment-friendly. We are reducing the time it takes to establish a business, reducing the cost of production, trying to do away with the administrative barriers to business.” Please… Gazette! Gazette! Gazette!

So what was it like? Registering this business? First off, whenever I mentioned (to anyone who knew) that I'd be doing this whole looking at the process thing. Their response was almost always "Why don't you get someone else to do it? Why don't you get a lawyer to do it?" Well, registering a sole proprietorship should be pretty easy... and secondly eliminating the need for lawyers in the registration process was also part of this shiny new Acts of Parliament.

Day 1

So walking into the Registrars office at Roxy building was like walking into a dungeon. I could hear the clicking and clacking of typewriters from the entrance. As I made my way to the first floor I scanned the rooms... not a computer in sight. I was directed to an individual who seemed to have no intention whatsoever to help me. This fellow would not even acknowledge your presence. Anyway, it turned out you need permission from the Permanent Secretary for Ministry of Trade in order to use "Sierra Leone" in your business name. I had thought this would be a tricky development but it turned out to be quite straightforward. The PS asked me to write a formal letter of application, which I did and I collected the approval a couple of days later.

Day 3

Armed with my letter of approval from the PS I headed back to Roxy building to complete the forms. I had done one form but needed to do a second for another name which didn't need approval so I thought it would be simple enough. I was told they'd run out of forms, so I'd have to come back the next day to complete the application. "no forms?" He said they were usually supplied and they'd run out.. now had there been a computer somewhere...

I also needed to do a photocopy of the first completed form but they didn't have any machines in the building (even though they could make some money from this), so the only option is to walk about 150 metres down the road for access to a copier. Then back again.

Day 4

With both forms now complete I was told to go make payment downstairs. When I got to the office I was told by the cashier, that I should talk to some guys outside as she was busy. Initially she said I should come back tomorrow.I was like, "we make payment to you right?" She replied in the affirmative. "So why do I need to talk to those guys outside?" With some pressure we agreed I'd leave the forms and the money (for both forms) and come back in the afternoon to collect it. Seeing as one had other things to do, I couldn't make it back that afternoon but came back the next working day.

Day 5

I went straight to her office, and she confirmed she'd processed the forms and I should ask the guys outside (yes, those guys again). I asked them about the forms.. had they seen it? and they did that thing that's happened to me twice in Sierra Leone. They said no without checking. They said it must have been sent upstairs... so I ran upstairs to my not so friendly friend who was processing the registration. Of course... you know what happened next... he hadn't seen it and insisted it must be downstairs. So there i was running back down the stairs, patience starting to wear thin. I met these guys again and insisted that the forms must be with them. They pretended not to hear me... I told them that I still had enough energy and wasn't worn out yet, if that's what they were trying to do. I just stood there. Eventually, one of them looks amongst the papers on his desk and abracadabra! My forms.

The puzzling thing was that there was only receipt for one of the forms but I was confident I'd paid for both. The cashier insisted I only left money for one but every instinct told me otherwise. I should really have asked her to count the money in my presence. So I had to go pay for the second form (again).

My next step was to go to NRA to go pay my TAX IN ADVANCE, and because of where the business is registered meant a trip to the other side of town. From Walpole Street to Lumley.

Day 6

I must admit, by this time I was getting really fed up so I decided to find a guy on the inside (by recommendation) who would sort out the papers - for a 'facilitation' fee, not only for himself but for some of his superiors who needed to do some signing (or something). He would call me when it was ready.

Day 9

I got the forms back 3 days later but now I needed to get a tax clearance and because of some questionable practices in the past, the only person currently issuing this is the Commissioner of Income tax. Again, due to insider help, I was able to get this much faster than it should have been. The commissioner was actually quite helpful and it turns out we must have been at Fourah Bay College around the same time. Young, dynamic individual.

Day 10

Back to Roxy Building (by now I had a genuine fear of the place) to pay another fee for License and Registration. Now my not so friendly friend was 'off sick' on this day and I met another guy. Now he was a lot more keen.. very helpful.. looked through some of the forms from NRA and said they had not been filled in correctly, he made some changes. He said he'd seen me coming but I'd only go to the other guy. He  said he'd sort it our for me, no problem! He asked me to leave the forms and the fee, and he'd make sure everything was processed and he'd call me. I took his number and intended to pester him.

Day 12

He calls me to let me know my forms where done. It was actually on my birthday.. so what a gift! And off to Roxy I go... he does indeed show me my registration and license. Then he flashes me my receipt but then says the receipt stays with them. Huh? So I said can I see for my own records? He shuffles uncomfortably and mumbles something about Company Policy and how I could get him into trouble. At this point, I'm just confused so I insisted again that he shows me the receipt... then he comes out with a line I'll remember for some time yet. He said he'd taken an "Oath of Secrecy" at which point I nearly exploded. I'm like "Oath of secrecy to see MY receipt? for MY money paid?" He then relented. By then I was honestly too pissed off to make any sense of the receipt.

So there. 24hrs it is not! My experience proves to me that nothing has changed. That Roxy building is one of the most archaic buildings I've ever been in. Not a single computer in site and I just loved the way they'd move typewriters from desk to desk. Laptop eat your heart out! I even heard that everyone has there own [typewriter] ribbon so when it's your turn to use it, you get out your ribbon and attach it.

I know a lot of folks had done some serious work to make sure changes were passed in parliament and I commend them for that but that now seems like a half way job.. I'd like to see the different parties to this DFID, Sierra Leone Business Forum, SLIPA, Chamber of Commerce, Ministry of Trade, Members of the Diaspora apply some pressure so that this new Act is made ACTive changes and we can hopefully get on the road to being more business friendly...and hopefully sort out Roxy Building on the way.

Love conquers all

He's 93 and she's 87. Though they've been family friends for a long time, my visit was unplanned and I ended up at their house, I'm ashamed to say... also driven by hunger. My mum suggested I stop by as it was their 63rd Wedding anniversary.. so that I did.

What I saw made my heart melt... and any doubts I had about the sanctity of the institution of marriage were put to rest. I wondered if they make them like this anymore.. LOL. As age does to the best of us he is not as active as he used to be but she has dedicated her life to making him comfortable. Even when she had an accident and damaged her knee a few months ago, she refused to say in hospital because she had to go home and take care of him. I watched them as they sat there holding hands it had a profound effect on me.

 

Surely this is what it's all about.. after all those years.. for better for worse.. in sickness and in health.. They've seen Salone through its best.. and worst.. and they're still standing. Still together... dressed in "wan kine" aschobi.

I'd been thinking this is something that should be shared and what better day than today. Happy Valentine's Day folks.. best wishes to you and yours.. Love is alive.

Gramma Milli and Grampa George.. Happy Valentines day to you!!!

Nataša's Sierra Leone Revisited - Part 2 - SLPP Preelection Rally (Freetown, July 2007)

It was a rainy and slow Saturday morning in Freetown. It was the rainy season so nothing was wrong with that. I idled around in my family homestay. I had a long sleep, after spending most of the previous night nightclubbing. I was trying to figure out how to spend the rest of the day. Bakie said, »I am going to the SLPP rally. Do you want to come with me?« »Yes, that would be interesting,« I said.

Bakie, who I always saw in wonderful African print dresses, changed into an SLPP casual wear, trousers, SLPP T-shirt in green white print, an SLPP visor cap, and a black raincoat.
We got into the car, Bakie, me with a camera, Sahr, and Hamid. They were all SLPP supporters of course. Bakie was driving. As soon as we managed to conquer the steep incline of the rough road with our small Japanese car to join the main one, we got into a traffic jam. People, SLPP supporters were all heading to the National Stadium.
Bakie said, »We'll have a look at the coming in, and then we'll go to the Aquapark to attend a birthday celebration of a friend«.
»Everything is fine with me,« I answered. I was just a guest, a newcomer, a foreigner, all in one.

***

We stood at the entrance of the National Stadium, and watched the crowds coming. It was drizzling. People were walking by, they were chanting, singing, marching, blowing horns, waving and dancing. They were singing »Solo B, Solo B di bomba«, and other slogans.
The excitement of being part of a big gathering got into them. Also alchocol got into some of them, making them even more festive, even bold, all in green and white, T-shirts, scarves, dresses, some had palm leaves in their heads, some were costumed into green palm trees. Bakie had an umbrella with a palm tree pattern.

I was standing at the side, but everyone noticed me. I was the only white person at this preelection meeting as far as I could see. So everyone waved at me, cheered me, and also stopped in front of me, to perform a bit just for me. I had a camera, and took pictures. Some supporters came very close to me or even surrounded me, and Sahr pulled me back, and protected me. I was having a bit of attention myself again. It was getting to me, all this preelection heat, I was glad my rain jacket was greenish.

Then we were off, Sahr, Hamid and myself had to join Bakie at a birthday party reception for a ten year old boy of Bakie's old friend, at Aquapark.
We just got there on time. They were gathered, and a lady was giving a talk to honour the boy, and the God, for getting him to where he was. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, getting all the attention, and you could see he couldn't wait for it to be over. His mother stood next to him, his younger brother was somewhere in the crowd.
»Where is the father?« I asked.
»He died last year,« Bakie said. »They called her at work, because he was not feeling well, he was sick, and by the time she came, he was gone.«
»A stroke, » I thought. »What a shame.«
»I was the bestwoman at the wedding,« Bakie said. »I introduced them. There is the boy's younger brother,« she pointed towards a lively boy of an age of five.

The reception was well attended. Ladies, mothers, friends helped distribute plates of food for children first, and then for us adults. It was delicious and by then I was starving. We were sitting on the plastic chairs, under the roof on an open air outdoor patio, looking at the ocean, and at the bridge to Aberdeen, and eating while the rain slowly drizzled.
Then we got back to the car, returning to the SLPP rally, our stomachs full.
»This is where we thought you were going to live at first,« said Bakie, when we drove back. It was a nice house very near the Aqua park.
»It would be nice,« I said. »But it's really nice to be with you as well,« I added. I was still surprised to see such nice houses on streets, that would in my country lead to nowhere. Mud, holes, barely drivable.

We were off to the stadium. This time we parked in the stadium parking lot, and walked towards it. More people were coming. Buses from the provinces were parked around the stadium. Vendors were selling some food and snacks, boiled corn, or sandwiches. There were a lot of young beggars around, street children. A bigger boy took something from a smaller one. Must have been some money The smaller one got very upset, and ran like a bull into the bigger one, shouting and crying. The bigger one was stronger, and beat him. I wanted to stop them, to set this right. I stood as frozen. Then Sahr pulled me on, it was not on me to settle things there. I was sorry it was so.

We got to the tribune, we passed a large group of child beggars in wheelchairs, with crutches. We got to one of the entrances, where most of the important SLPP people were sitting. Sitting up there we met some SLPP politicians, who walked around and shook hands with people, also with Bakie, and me, as I was with her. The audience in that part was filling up the space, but in the whole stadium it seemed scarce. People were trickling in, but not in large hoards. I was expecting a bigger turnout. I wanted to go back out and get some chewing gum. That seemed to be a problem. Bakie asked Hamid to come with me. The door to that section was by that time guarded by several big and strong guards, to keep newcomers out, this secton was then full. They let us out, and Hamid talked to them to let us back in later on.
»I am white so they will remember me«, I thought.
We had to walk out of the stadium to one of the stalls outside. I bought some Black diamond mint candies, and Chicklet chewing gum. I figured the evening was yet to be long, and I had a bad breath.

We got back, this time I gave some change to the young disabled beggars, who were quietly waiting around near the entrance. They worked in a group, you gave money to one for all of them. We had some problems passing by some SLPP palm costumed supporters standing in front of the entrance door, and blocking the way.

The stadium looked like an old socialist building. The toilets smelled badly when we got back.It must had been around 6.00 p.m. The programme hadn't started yet. There were some honda drivers, who managed to get into the stadium field, and started driving in circles of the running track, while performing some acrobatic moves, legs up, or standing up on the motorbike. This was not an organised programme but an improvised one. It gave some pleasure to the waiting and bored spectators. The police nevertheless tried to stop them, but not with much success, until one of them fell, when a policewoman stopped them by literally getting in his way.

There was an improvised wooden stage, and several singers followed each other to sing on a playback. It finally got dark, and it seemed the official part was about to start some time soon. There was a reporter somewhere not far from where I was sitting, with a cameraman, writing something into his notebook, and waiting just as patiently as us.
Finally some cars with the politicians started driving into the arena of the stadium, they honked and turned on the blares, the supporters cheered, the cars made a circle around and stopped. Many supporters ran into the field. It seemed to be a problem, they had to get them out, to start the programme, but the police didn't seem to be in control of the situation, and quite some of the bold supporters were a bit drunk by then. They just made them run from one part of the stadium to the other. It was around 8.p.m., when I finally gave up. The official programme with speeches had still not started. Waiting for me became too tedious. I was just an onlooker. I left with Sahr.

We got to the main street from the stadium, and caught a shared taxi. It was not easy, there were a lot of us, Sahr used me to get us in. I was white and a woman. Then he squeezed himself into the full taxi as well. We talked a bit, I felt safe with Sahr, he took good care of me. He was a salesman traveling around Sierra Leone, selling herb medicine for some company. He said »I am going to buy you a necklace to go with your bracelets«, but he never did. I actually saw him only once again on another occasion. He was on his business trips most of his time.

When we got back home, we went to watch a Nigerian film in the living room with the rest of the extended family, who took all the places on the sofas, and chairs around, and the floor. I fell asleep in the chair with my head on the dining table, and later drunken from sleep shuffled into my beloved queen bedded room, mumbling »Good night« to everyone. It was a long day.