No one size-fits-all

DURING our childhood days, going to boarding school was not only an affirmation of
one’s academic giftedness, but also offered a special opportunity to enter a different
and exciting world altogether.
There, in the boarding school, we would always look forward to the school holidays,
so we could share with our friends exciting stories of what would have transpired
during the just-ended term.
I still remember to this day a story I was told by my late friend, Jonathan Makura (aka
Kamujoza). (May his dear soul rest in eternal peace).
There was this boarding master at his school, St Mary’s Secondary School in
Chitungwiza, An elderly gentleman whose sight was increasingly failing.
There was also this delinquent boy, John Dube, who had the habit of scaling the
school perimeter wall and making a dash for the nearby Chikwanha Shopping Centre
for a beer drink.
Somehow, the elderly gentleman had come to know of John Dube’s shenanigans.
When the time was ripe, the old boarding master would covertly wait in the shadows
for the enfant terrible to appear.
True to type, the delinquent boy would tip-toe towards the perimeter wall.
Once he got to the top, the old man would holler “John Dube, dzokera (go back)!”
whereupon the boy would hastily beat his retreat.
So, each time the old boarding master would see a silhouette scaling the wall, he
would simply shout “John Dube, dzokera“and as usual the figure would back off.
Now on this other day, the elderly gentleman saw a shadowy figure scaling the wall
and as usual, he shouted: “John Dube, dzokera!” but this time the figure did not
retreat.
It was not John Dube. The old boarding master had – mistakenly – assumed that
every time he saw a figure climbing the wall it would be John Dube.
From that day, the boys realised the old gentleman suffered from poor eyesight and
they became more daring.
They threw all caution to the wind and were scaling the wall in numbers. There was
massive delinquency.
The above scenario frequently plays out in the world of business.

Businesspeople oftentimes make preposterous assumptions about their customers:
Sweeping generalisations instead of case-by-case engagements.
This short-sightedness invariably leads to business delinquency.
Nomsa Dube (no relation to John Dube!) operates a vibrant bridal shop in
Bulawayo’s CBD.
She acknowledges, especially that with the bridal industry, it is very important to
listen to the customer.
In this industry, the customer is by nature very fastidious. Customer service has to
be personalised, since individual tastes and preferences vary greatly.
She always insists that her girls carefully take down customer requests and
specifications.
Not long ago, she had a number of clients who wanted costumes for a fashion event.
She went well beyond the call of duty.
After serving her clients she made arrangements to personally attend the function so
she could gain insights into how best she could serve and advise the clients.
Nomsa says she is contemplating setting up a virtual community of bridal customers
through WhatsApp platform.
This way, she hopes to accurately capture customer interests and concerns as well
as catch up with trends in the industry.
Like all fashion business, bridal industry is ever in a state of flux.
They say “a beer is a beer”. True, whether the beer is sold from a shebeen or a five-
star hotel does not alter the composition of the beer.
However, in business, the story goes well beyond the chemistry of alcohol.
For one thing, the ambience of the outlet definitely has a great deal of impact on the
consumption process.
Folks from my home area – Manicaland – would tell you “Mhamba ingonaka pana
wamai “(Beer tastes better in the company of women/Utshwala bumnadi
okulamakhosikazi khona).
The long and short of it is that it does make all the difference to pay attention to the
needs of each type of customer.
For the hot-blooded lasses and lads in Gwanda town, it all comes together at the
chic Phoenix Gardens (aka Shisanyama), where they elegantly sip to the latest
sounds of Amapiano- all under mellow lights.
The Famous Bar on 4th Avenue is easily the rendezvous for the tsheketsha
(artisanal miners): The sounds of Ndolwane Super Sounds blurting from the big
speakers mounted at the other end of the yard.

Here it is no holds barred. There are no ‘NO SMOKING’ posters and the girls jive
with reckless abandon: A well-deserved break from days of grind in the bush.
The modest ones are very much at home at either Club 626, Millie’s restaurant or
The Nest bar ‘n grill- perched high on comfy bar stools and sipping cold beers. Here,
they effortlessly chat over soft-playing music.
The elderly gentlemen are at maNkomo’s beer garden, eloketsheni, ePhakama,
comfortably seated on concrete benches: Playing draughts or tsoro in between long
swigs from big brown bottles. Women hardly come here.
Variation is the other word for market. So no one size would fit all. To attempt such
would be marketplace delinquency writ large.