Shaheem

The silver circular lock glinted dully, connecting two ends of the thick chunky steel chain wrapped around the custom made brass handles on the solid oak doors. Not quite registering the presence of the chain and lock on the office door, Shaheem swiped his access card on the card reader to the right of the door, fully expecting to hear the beep of the device, followed by the click of the door lock releasing and allowing him to enter. Nothing happened. The blinking red light refused steadfastly to turn green, stubbornly refusing Shaheem access to the building. With rising panic, he felt for the small key in his wallet, his mind telling him that everything would be OK. Finding the key in his wallet, he inserted it, turned it, and heard the lock give, only to be stopped by the presence of the huge lock and chain holding the handles steadfastly together. Frantic to gain entrance to the building now, he yanked on the chain, pulling the door handles, only rattling the chains. Sweat now coursing freely down the sides of his body, his white Polo shirt showing the wet stains, Shaheem allowed the reality of the situation to hit him. His initial panic subsided enough for him to think clearly for a minute. Sliding to the floor, his back against the wall, he loosened the red necktie with one hand, running his other hand through his carefully combed hair. He reached for his mobile phone, pressed the numbers ingrained in his mind, expecting Yusuf to answer. The voice mail message was short and to the point.

“You have reached Yusuf Gamieldien, I am not available at the moment, but please leave a short message, and I will return your call as soon as possible, thanks, Yusuf”.

The month had started like so many before in the last year. Shaheem and Yusuf had known each other from school days. Best mates, the two were inseparable from the first day at High School, a shared bond cementing their friendship. Both of them lived with single moms, and shared absent fathers. Fortune placed them in the same classroom, and some common interests in music and sport cast the two boys together in even more activities. Shaheem was the taller of the two, already close to 1.75 meters at the age of 14, growing physically bigger by the day, his role as protector of Yusuf was cemented and accepted from day 1 when a Grade 12 student tried picking on Yusuf. With his imposing physique, Shaheem stepped in to save Yusuf, laying a foundation for a friendship that would last through school and University, and pave the way to Smart-Tech Enterprises, a start up business idea the two men had while still at UCT. For their final year assignment, Yusuf had postulated on the possibility of writing some code that would change the way the security business worked. The group of four students were each assigned roles on the project, with Yusuf taking the technical lead, Shaheem running with the Business Analysis, and the other two team members playing the role of the Marketing and Sales resources on the project. By the end of the year, Shaheem and Yusuf had already sealed contracts from two major industry players interested in buying the technology, and with the ink not quite dry on the degrees, they moved into Shaheem flat to write the program. Years of friendship eased the pain of many late nights, sitting through slow software builds on antiquated machines. After writing some new code, Yusuf would have to wait for the old Mac to build the new version, while Shaheem waited expectantly to test it. A few months of late nights, fuelled on Red Bull and Debonairs Pizza, the team put together the first working version. Still in dirty pizza and tomato stained t-shirts, the two jumped in Yusuf’s old VW Chico, and drove off the Northern Suburbs meeting with DTA Security. The old Macbook stuttered to life in the boardroom, the glow of the screen reflecting off their eager faces. The product now done, the two young men felt like fathers seeing a new born baby for the first time. An apt analogy, the baby cried into life, telling the world that it had arrived, and had every intention of being noticed by as many people as possible. With DTA Security as a client, the Smart-Tech team grew into a small third floor office in Long Street, expanding to include a PA, two more developers and Busiswa, the best tea and coffee lady in Cape Town. Within 2 short years, Smart-Tech had expanded, and Yusuf had conceptualised newer and better versions of the first product. Days were now spent talking to potential investors, showing proof of concepts, doing 20 page PowerPoint presentations, drinking copious amounts of coffee, flying to Johannesburg frequently and working 18 hour days.

When Nkosi-Liebenberg came on board with the first round of funding, Shaheem and Yusuf celebrated by going out and getting drunk. An empty bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in the new corporate boardroom was to be a constant reminder of that night and signalled the start of the many more parties. The friends were now fast approaching their thirties, and Shaheem had always wanted to have a family. When Shaheem first met Lilly, he was immediately smitten by her impish good looks, and a somewhat tempestuous relationship ensued. Leaving more and more of the business dealings to Yusuf, Shaheem and Lilly spent more and more time together, with Lilly’s music career taking off. A messy break up every few weeks would find Shaheem cradling another bottle in Yusuf’s lofty office, complaining bitterly about his ‘unstable’ girlfriend, and the havoc she was causing in his life. A few days later Shaheem would be on top of the world again, all woes forgotten and all fights banished from immediate memory. Increasingly, Yusuf met with the VC partners on his own, a short and curt email after each meeting keeping Shaheem ‘in the loop’.

At least, until that bright September morning, when Shaheem walked in Yusuf’s office…

The office was on the 19th floor, with panoramic views from all sides, and allowed for a breathtaking view of the City, taking in the waterfront, the harbour and even a bit of Table Mountain. Surrounded on all sides by sliding doors, on good days Yusuf could open them and step out on the balcony. The top floor office had all the luxuries left over from the dot com days, with a Jacuzzi and an outside bar which the company used regularly for after works drinks on most days. But Shaheem sensed that something was out of place that day. Dwarfed by the huge mahogany desk, and engulfed by the tall leather high back chairs, Yusuf looked particularly small. A frown on his face, his thinning hair dishevelled and uncombed, wearing one of his designer t-shirts, Yusuf sat with his head between his hands. Taking all of this in, Shaheem glanced at the office. Papers were strewn everywhere. The white board was covered with pink and yellow sticky notes, connected black lines drawn between them, some spaces blank and ending with question marks. Unable to make any sense of the board, Shaheem turned to Yusuf and asked him what was going on.

Slowly, haltingly, pausing to take a sip of water from the plastic bottle by his side, Yusuf told Shaheem the story. NL VC had threatened to pull the plug. They were unhappy with the progress of development, and wanted Smart-Tech to push to get the product to market before December, an almost impossible ask. With the PC and Mac versions already in beta testing, the VC company were pushing for a pre Christmas release of the mobile phone applications, both iOS and Android, and both Apple and the Google consortium were waiting for this product expectantly. The problem was that he simply could not get the algorithm to work. Having tried everything he knew, he had called in the developers, and still no one could find a solution to this most vexing of problems. The previous day, while Shaheem was out dealing with one of his Lilly crises, Yusuf had met with Nkosi, who had no understanding of technology business at all. A lawyer by profession, Nkosi only relied on his past working experience to get him through meetings. With Jan Liebenberg unable to attend this meeting, Nkosi simply pulled out the contract Smart-Tech had signed, citing a long defunct project plan and insisted that the young start up company delivered on its promises. Yusuf, having been cursed with a short temper, totally lost his cool, leaving the excellent dinner he had ordered on the table at the Mount Nelson, grabbed his laptop bag and stormed out of the restaurant. A short call later from Liebenberg confirmed his worst fears – if Smart-Tech did not have a product by the end of September, NL VC would withdraw all future funding. Without more money, Smart-Tech would shrivel up and die like a picked flower lying in the sun. Without a product development team, Smart-Tech would be out on the street, up a creek without a paddle.

More meetings followed, with teams asked to work ridiculous hours. Shaheem, now fully focused on work again, jumped into the management of the teams, attempting to deploy new thinking into the tired developers. Within a few days, a small light appeared at the end of the long dark tunnel. One of the junior developers had written some code that looked like it could solve the problem. Running the application on his iPhone, Shaheem thought back to that first day when he and Yusuf had pitched the product to DTA and the feelings of satisfaction he had had that day. Noticing that the same feeling were now amiss, replaced by worry and concern for the future of the people around him, Shaheem felt the frown lines crease his forehead. Making a conscious effort, he wiped his furrowed brow, forcing a smile to his face, taking in the expectant look on the junior developers face. With a real smile now replacing the forced one, Shaheem realised that the application was working. They had done it! The company would be saved. And he would ask Lilly to marry him. Running to the stairs, he took them two and three at a time, bursting into Yusuf’s office. Finding the office empty, he glanced at his wristwatch, a shiny Breitling, and noticed the time – well after 6p.m. Yusuf was probably at the local Gym.

And now, sitting on the cold floor, staff members milling around him, the cold hard realising that the dream had turned into a nightmare, Shaheem felt the cold tendrils of fear gripping him. Forcing down his rising panic, his throat dry and constricted, he saw Busi looking at him. With tears in her eyes, she kept asking him if she still had a job, saying that she had 7 children to feed, telling him her husband was at home. Melinda, the leggy blonde PA stood looking down at him, a look of smug satisfaction on her face, implying that she expected things to get to this point. And the others’reactions – disbelief, discouraged and disappointed..how could this happen…