Brother, you are my savior

Four hours. AC First Class. Window seat. Somewhere in Asia.

The woman in the chair next to me was on her phone the entire way. One call after another. After another. She did not stop.

A few of the other passengers were quietly annoyed. The compartment was calm, her voice was clear, and she was calling for hours. Even though I was not trying to listen, every conversation reached me. She sat right next to me.

But she was not being rude. She was determined. She had a long journey ahead of her, and she was not going to waste a minute of it. So she was working.

Before we reached the station, I asked her softly, madam, may I know what business you are in?

She smiled. Artificial jewellery. A small setup of her own, and a quiet network of women across the country who buy from her and resell to their own circles.

A new piece had just arrived. So she was calling every one of them, personally. How are you, how are the children, and by the way, we have this new piece, it is so beautiful, please keep it in your list.

She was tired. But proud. It was working.

I said, madam, may I ask you something. What if this took you a few minutes instead of four hours?

She shook her head immediately. No no no, brother. I know about broadcasts. Nobody reads a broadcast. WhatsApp doesn’t work for me. It has to be personal.

“You are right, madam. It has to be personal. But personal does not have to mean slow.”

Give me one three-minute video of yourself, saying whatever you would say on a phone call. Just once. Then give me the names of your women. And I will send you back one video for each of them, with their own name in it. “Hi Christy, sorry I could not call you personally today…” Their name. Their video. Your voice.

She did not ask a second question. She recorded the video before we reached the station.

The next day, when the personalised videos landed on her phone, she called me.

“Brother, you are my savior.”

I have thought about that call a lot since. She did not need a bigger business. She did not need investors. She did not need a consultant with a fancy invoice. She needed her four hours back, to spend on her children, on her craft, on her life.

That is the work I love the most. Not the big builders. Not the big doctors. Not the big deals. The founders who love their work, no matter the size of their business. The ones who are quietly working harder than anyone in the room, and who just need someone to stand beside them for a few honest minutes.

If you are like her, come find me. I will not send you a big invoice. I will send you your hours back.