Some weeks, events happen that make it easy to start writing the blog, while others like this one, it seems extremely difficult. I think when you are personally waiting for outstanding answers, it makes it harder to concentrate on extracurricular tasks.
“We are all selfish in our thoughts subconsciously. Human nature dictates this. Just as in your dreams you are frequently the active participant of your own thoughts.” - Peter McSporran
This week I await a number of answers. I had my scheduled doctors appointment following blood tests and ECG last week with all my results normal for my heart rate, blood pressure, cholesterol and my blood sugars, which are at acceptable levels. The one exception was my left eye, which when I visited the specialist had deteriorated to about 30% vision due to missing my bi-monthly injection. I thought my other eye was also deteriorating, I did not mention it to my family as I seem to always have some ailment. Luckily when reviewing my left eye, they checked my right one where they discovered a piece of metal in my cornea which they removed restoring it back to full vision. At the same time, I had my delayed but required injection in my left eye.
I must admit I did not miss my medical visits during our travels.
Rozanne and I both are scheduled for our Covid-19 boosters this week. Finally, later this week I have a consultation with the oncology surgeon followed by the cardiologist next week.
Outside of my medical issues, I am waiting for an appeal to the manufacturers of my car to consider some form of dispensation to repair the car which had an engine failure at 50,000km on Christmas eve. It is out of age warranty, but well under normal mileage warranty. It is really disappointing as we especially use the old Nissan X-Trail for daily local trips such as shopping, thus hopefully preserving the Jaguar for long trips. At least that was the plan. Being retired, the piggy bank does not get replenished, so we have to count our pennies. I, therefore, thought to appeal to the manufacturers. I wrote the below to the manufacturer in support of my claim despite me buying it second hand.
“I was a farmer in Zimbabwe for many years and we would expect our tractor diesel engines to last at least 8,000 to 10,000 hours despite the dusty working conditions. If we say I have averaged conservatively 100 Km per hour with this car it would equate to less than 500 hours of running time when the engine failed. At this low hour-age I would expect to and also get my tractor engine replaced by the dealer.”
Jaguar have just contacted me to say they are looking into it, so fingers crossed. Oh! Hot off the press they are going to contribute to the repair. The dealer believes a large portion at least.
First Journey to The “Sharp End”
Our first trip to “the sharp end” took three days of travelling in the slow uncomfortable RLs. It was not a trip without incident, both on the road and off duty. We set off from Deka stopping in Bulawayo on a Friday where we got a weekend pass. Our first one since joining 4 Indep. Although we passed through both Bulawayo and Salisbury, the army always gave us passes while in Bulawayo. Never in Salisbury. These passes were termed “rest and recuperation” (R&R) in active service. For us, with homes in the central or east of the country, much of our R&R was taken up by travel. Travel was done by hitchhiking or if really lucky, a lift from a fellow soldier travelling to Harare. I was excited about this trip home as my first bonus had enabled my boss, Hamish, to buy a new car for me. New cars in sanctioned Rhodesia were a rarity and for me to have been allocated one through my boss was exceptional. Needless to say, I never used it in travelling to and from Bulawayo, as I felt it would be safer in Harare. We never knew our movements in advance.
In those days, cars stopped to offer a hitchhiking soldier in uniform a lift. If you got on the road early enough on a Friday afternoon, the chances were you would get to Harare that night. Those from Umtali and the Eastern Highlands had no chance. As I mentioned, on occasion, we could scrounge a lift from those lucky enough to have a car in Bulawayo. They were few and far between in those days. One person, in particular, Allan Gavronsky, who I have recently reconnected with on Facebook. Allan was from Gatooma, which left us with 140 km to hitch to Salisbury. A Breeze.
There was a further problem for us sergeants. Despite having a weekend pass we still had to approach the Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) to be excused from his Friday night “prayer meeting.” In civilian speak, substitute “prayer meeting” to “compulsory piss up” in the mess. These were where the RSM would invite you to compulsory drinks, although you paid for your own. All non-commissioned officers above the rank of sergeant were expected to attend these on a Friday unless they had a life or death excuse. It was seen as your duty to attend. No wonder divorce was common in the army, most Fridays ended up being drunken affairs leaving wives fretting at home while their husbands’ mess bills mounted. It is easy to buy rounds using your mess account rather than cash especially with a few beers under your belt. Anyway, us sergeants in 4 Indep, despite being only on transit, had to grovel to be allowed to miss these weekly events when we were in camp. And grovel we did with a set repertoire of well-used excuses hard to challenge without investigation.
That first R&R was exciting for me, as I would get first sight of my car, a Datsun 1200 with a black vinyl roof, radio and fancy hubs all for the princely sum of Rh$1,250. My bonus, which paid for this, was more than my annual salary, as was common for farm managers and assistants. Low salaries and a share of the profits. Some dishonest employers would cheat their employees out of these benefits but were soon known to be avoided by reputation. I was also lucky that my employer, Hamish Smith, made up the difference between my army pay and normal salary. I think the army pay then for territorials was about Rh$38 per month.
Anyway, on arriving in Harare and preening myself around my new car, I proceeded to take Janice out at the end of the evening taking her up the Salisbury Kopje where in my company, she sort of dozed off and on awakening called me by someone else's name. That was the end of that relationship, although to be honest, it had been more of a friendship.
On returning to Bulawayo, we immediately set off in convoy once more for Harare where I had just come from. Army convoys are extremely slow and our travelling time for the 900 km from Deka to Rushingo was three days. Of course, the Bedfords were pretty tired then and breakdowns were frequent. On arrival at the Drill Hall in Salisbury, if we were local, you could meet family for a few hours. My sister and brother-in-law came to see me there. Lindsay, my brother-in-law was still doing his National Service with the Rhodesian Light Infantry (RLI) a regular commando unit. He had some scary stories to tell. I relate the below story from him verbatim:
“We were OP*ing on a hill. Went off to have a shit behind a tree. Had done my business- stood up pulling my brooks up- glanced left and there was a terr(CT) about 60meters from me - had seen me and looked like he was going to fire- jumped back but because my brooks were rounds my ankles fell into my shit. But now this guy was coming for me- so action- grabbed my heavy barrel- and went round tree to face him - and found him running at speed away from me- lined up my sites in his back - and my weapon jammed! By the time I had kicked the cocking handle and cleared it he was gone!! And this was our 2nd day out in a 3-week stint in Mocambique!! Covered in shit!!" - Lindsay Ross
Of course, had to have to laugh at said-like stories! Many such stories in the army were always greeted with mirth despite them being near-death experiences.
The part I write about now was an event raised by George Kafizas just this week, him being another ex-soldier from 4 Indep. who I am in contact with.
Anyway, later that night a shot rang out in the confines of the drill hall with a bullet passing through the officers quarters which were on a mezzanine floor around the building. The bullet in its trajectory passed very close to the CSM which, to say the least, agitated him. Of course, we all had to fall in for muster and carry out a weapon inspection. One of the soldier's rifles I inspected showed signs of being fired, coupled with the boy’s shaking hands and terrified demeanour. It was obvious he had caused the accidental discharge. I had a long hard think about it, the person involved was a good soldier, knew full well of the terrible mistake he had made, and it would serve little purpose on deployment sending him to DB (the box). George, his name was Piet Englebrecht. Is that who you thought it was? Englebrecht and I never ever talked about the incident afterwards but he knew, I knew. Not good discipline I know, but DB destroyed peoples lives.
I felt guilty about sending Milligan to DB. I also felt guilt on not charging Engelbrecht. The second with hindsight, considering the number of ADs I witnessed over the years, was the lesser guilt.
The Challenges of Investing in African Agriculture Part VI - Business Models Creation and Use
Agricultural production models are the most complicated you can find. Unlike retail and manufacturing businesses where you have a good idea of cost and selling price, in agriculture, there are too many variables. Of course, while the farmer may well understand all this along with the multiple risk factors, lenders rarely seem to understand this. They expect the model to ring true no matter what. The farmer has little control over the cost of his inputs and generally no control over the market price.
“The farmer is the only man in our economy who buys everything at retail, sells everything at wholesale, and pays the freight both ways.” - President John F. Kennedy
If not selling at best in the open market, his price will probably be locked into a delivery contract where he has to ensure quantity, quality and the delivery date is met without any benefit from price negotiation or the processed price on the shelf. Prices often go in cycles, that is, providing Governments do not interfere in both price and market access. Government policy always lags the market and stocks reality. Therefore price discovery is very difficult in modelling.
“Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil, and you’re a thousand miles from the cornfield.” - President Dwight D. Eisenhower
Therefore, before starting the model for an agricultural production unit, the cost is an estimate as is the projected selling price. Yields are always variable, there are good and bad years so always best to use a conservative figure of the average over the proceeding years. The weather can be the major factor with regard to yields. Certainly, irrigation mitigates against this, including ensuring set planting dates.
The final variance of course is timings. Planting can be delayed, harvests may be late and the demand and payments in the market can also be delayed. In fact, sometimes crops can be held over for many months before a suitable market is found. Once again lenders have trouble understanding this when they refer to your model. Of course, perishables if not cold stored or processed may be totally lost due to lack of a market.
The final challenge in modelling for farming enterprises is the separation of fixed from working costs. Just clearly identifying and allocating them in a model is hard, with normally the lender and investee having different opinions in their allocation.
Unfortunately, especially when cash flow is tight, misallocation is more prevalent.
It is impossible for someone who does not understand the practical challenges of generating an agricultural model for them to create a practical tool for the farmer. Hence, their theoretical models are left often unattended in the bottom drawer of his office, while the farmer works out their model using the back of a cigarette packet or some other suitable scrap of paper.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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