2. CUSTOMERS NEED TO KNOW WHO THEY ARE DEALING WITH – BE WILLING TO IDENTIFY YOURSELF

Of ‘The Guard and the future of a Precious Child’

Maliya watched affectionately as her daughter Kisakye finished lunch, ready to depart for boarding school.  The thought that the thirteen-year old would be away for three long months was heart-breaking as such a thing had never happened before.  “How will I manage the weekends without her?”, the widowed mother wondered.  For ever since Mutebi, the girl’s father, passed away, Kisakye had been Maliya’s only solace.

To the contrary, Kisakye was excited.  For her, boarding school spelt ‘maturity, independence and having everything under her control’.  Therefore, the teenager had looked forward to this day with great anticipation.  Now, everything was in place, and she was finally ready to go.

After dropping the girl at the school, Maliya put her worries to rest, convinced that she had chosen the best girls’ school in the country.  With the notorious distractions in the city, such boarding schools were what teenagers needed in order to stay focussed on studies; and to keep away from ‘hungry wolves’ that stalked the streets looking for girls to devour.

Life at school was interesting but quite busy… classes…; tests…; leaving only a few hours for playing and chatting with friends.  Kisakye was quick to catch up with this rigorous routine.  Being a disciplined child, she sunk all her energies in studying, knowing that good grades would secure her future and make her mum proud. 

Days whizzed by without notice; and before long, end-of-term exams were round the corner, which meant long nights of revision.  However, something drastic happened.  Just the day before Kisakye’s maths exam, her calculator disappeared.  Frantic searches yielded no results.  An upset Kisakye called her mother who calmed down the girl; with the assurance that the driver, Petero, would bring another calculator immediately.  

But on arriving at the school, Petero’s speed was halted by the school guard who adamantly refused to call Kisakye, retorting that visitors were not allowed to see students, except on designated days.  Petero’s pleas regarding the urgency of the parcel fell on deaf ears. 

After a series of beggings, the guard sarcastically agreed to assist Petero by offering that he would forward the parcel to the girl.  But when Petero asked for the guard’s name, the latter snapped, “Am I obliged to tell you my name?  If you do not trust me, keep your parcel.  After all, I am just doing you a favour!”

Petero’s hands were tied.  It was obvious that any more questions would just aggravate the situation, and time was not on his side.  With almost no options left, he reluctantly handed over the parcel to the guard, then left.

Back at the dormitory, Kisakye waited endlessly, her impatience being interjected with calls to Mummy, now and then; and assurances that the calculator will reach her in no time.  However, all hopes vanished when dusk came and no parcel had shown up.   

Kisakye decided to call her mother again, this time crying in desperation, “Mum, what am I going to do?”  A confused Maliya recounted how Petero had given the calculator to the guard who had promised to forward the parcel to the girl; but that the man had refused to disclose his name to the driver.  “You should go to the gate and check”, the mother advised.  However, with the gate area being off-limits for students during evening hours, such an option was out of question.

Kisakye hardly slept a wink.  The girl recalls how she tossed and turned in bed that night, fear of failure tormenting her, each time sleep tried to take over.  The situation worsened the following morning, when she could not trace which guard had received the parcel.  Apparently, four guards had been on shift the evening before; and, not knowing the guard’s name was no help at all.  Seeing that her efforts would be fruitless, she gave up the search and opted to brave it to the examination room. 

A combination of panic, a sleepless night and the lack of a calculator are the last thing any normal human being would need for a ‘three-hour long’ maths exam.  Thence, when the results came, Kisakye had failed miserably.  Maliya was so disappointed with this whole saga that she immediately withdrew her daughter from that school.  And from that day, Kisakye swore to never go to boarding school ever again.

I narrated this story to a Chief Executive, when he dropped by my office.  I had visited their office and had been shocked to find that most employees were not wearing their identity cards.  To make matters worse, there were no visitors’ cards either.  This situation often culminated into customers meandering in the corridors and asking fellow visitors for assistance, mistaking them for employees of that organisation.  In some instances, there had been reports of employees refusing to disclose their names to customers.

We agreed that the executive should put emphasis on the need for staff to wear identity cards, and to readily and welcomingly mention their names to customers.  Such a step would show that the employees cared and were ready to be held accountable for the quality of services provided by the organisation. In addition, the effort would increase security, since one would be able to know ‘who was who’.  As he departed, the executive promised to discuss this issue with his management, with a view to ensure that all employees were willingly identifiable.

Therefore, I was very impressed when I visited their office again recently.  For not only did I receive a visitor’s card, but all employees were wearing their identity cards.   Needless to say, our discussions had yielded good fruit!