At the bottom? You can only go up

Sitah Lang’o’s warm and affable personality is infectious. In just five minutes, a visitor turns from acquaintance to old friend, a gift that has seen her graduate from struggling to make a living in Maringo Estate, in Eastlands, to regional country manager (East Africa) for SWIFT, a global company that offers financial messaging services to financial institutions.

Sitah jokingly calls herself a village girl. She was born and raised in Ugenya, Siaya County, with four siblings, and credits what she is today to her parents — her father, a retired civil servant, and her mother, a farmer.

“I grew up seeing what hard work is,” Sitah observes, recalling her mother being the source of fresh vegetables and milk for institutions and households in the area, produce grown on their farm.

She admired her mother’s independence. “She didn’t need to ask anyone for anything,” she remarks.

She joined boarding school at the tender age of eight; her mother believed she and her siblings would get better schooling away from home, and today, Sitah feels that she would not be who she is had she not gone to boarding school.

In 2001, she graduated from Kisumu Girls High School, and that December, her father helped her find an internship at a five-star hotel in the city.

She was elated because she had always wanted to work in the hospitality industry. After her father’s retirement in 2001, money was not easy to come by, so Sitah had to look for ways to foot her transport and meals, since her mother could only afford to pay for her accommodation in a small room in Maringo Estate, in Eastlands.

She would work 18 hours daily without any stipend. She started her shift at 6.30am and would work, waiting tables and attending to clients' orders, until midnight so that she could get transport home. Leaving earlier meant that she would have to spend money on transport and meals, money she did not have.

In April 2002, her internship ended and she was informed that since she did not have suitable academic credentials, she could not graduate to full-time employment. Her mother wanted her to go back home, but she refused, telling her that she would find her own way in the city.

She was without a job for a couple months, spending most of her time at a friend’s tailoring shop in Maringo. She was lucky because her friend was kind enough to give her food. Occasionally, she would take a matatu ride into the city to look for work at restaurants, with no success.

One Sunday, while going to church, she struck a conversation with a man she was seated next to. He happened to own a bar, as well as a small fast-food stall selling chips, in BuruBuru Estate, Nairobi. The man offered her a job — for Sh2,500 a month — preparing and selling chips to the customers who frequented the bar.

The pay was not much, but she was glad to have work. And work she did, from 9am to midnight seven days a week. Her hard work was unappreciated, though, because her boss would pay her intermittently, and after three months, owed her Sh5,000 in salary arrears.

Her diligence drew the attention of her boss’s wife, who also ran a business in the city centre. She hired her to prepare and hawk tea and bread along River Road between 6am and 8pm.

LATE NIGHT FIASCOS

Sitah thought that her pay would be prompt, but she was wrong.

“She rarely had money to pay me.”

Her payment was in food — the bread and tea that was left over. The Sh2,500 per month that she was promised was rare, and seven months later, her employer owed her Sh10, 000. Sitah began to question her life’s direction.

“One day, I just didn’t turn up at work.”

Around that time, her siblings moved to Nairobi from Siaya to seek work opportunities.

“We were all struggling together, so we encouraged and supported each other.”

After some time, her elder sister informed her that a fast-food restaurant on Moi Avenue in the city centre was looking for a night shift cashier, but the proprietor preferred a male cashier, who he thought would better handle the sometimes dangerous incidents that took place during the night. Sitah convinced him that she could cope, and he relented, offering her Sh5,000 monthly for a 7pm to 6 am shift.

Sitah shakes her head when she recalls the late-night fiascos she witnessed while working here. An elderly man who used to covertly hawk alcohol sachets in front of the restaurant quickly appointed himself her bodyguard, and would intervene whenever an incident occurred in the restaurant.

Incidents such as thefts, stabbings and general assaults on sex workers and drunken brawls were common at her work place. She recalls sex workers who would walk into the eatery in the dead of night for a meal. They seemed to take a liking for her and would freely talk to her about their families and struggles to make ends meet and wanting to leave the lives they were leading.

“I ended up being their counsellor — they would buy food, but instead of sitting at the table, they would stand near my stall and strike a conversation. It was a friendship.”

She also recalls an incident where a screaming man ran into the restaurant with a knife lodged in his back.

“There was a knife jutting out of his back, with blood pouring out of his back...”

The injured man suddenly turned and left the establishment screaming — Sitah does not know what happened to the man. She worked there for eight months, steadily saving her salary, her an intention of enrolling in college.

“For those eight months, I survived on chips and chicken for breakfast, lunch and supper,” Sitah recalls with good humour.

When she had saved enough, she joined Kenya Polytechnic, now Technical University of Kenya, to study for a year-long certificate in business administration, which cost Sh13,000 a semester.

After a while, her employer asked her to choose between work and school — he was tired of her seeking time off to study for her exams. Sitah, thought of her future and chose school, not sure how she would survive.

After completing her exams, she approached a classmate and suggested that they "tarmac" together, to motivate each other. They would meet at 8am in the city daily, determined to knock on every single office and restaurant door until they got a job. Sitah cannot count the number of rejections she got, but she kept going, there was just no alternative for her. 

Two weeks into their job search, the proprietor of an establishment along Koinange Street called her back.

Sitah had not expected him to call her back as promised; he had conducted a quick interview on the pavement outside the restaurant, and by then, she was ready to give up the fruitless job search.

LIVING ON TIPS

For Sh6,000, she worked at her employer’s two restaurants for 10 months, waiting tables.

“I was so excited. I was earning Sh6,000, an upgrade from my previous salary, however small, and even better, there was a variety of food to eat, not just chips…” she laughs.

Sitah would work from 6am to 8pm. She enjoyed waiting on the tables because she got tips.

“Always tip waiters, that 10 or 20 bob makes a difference,” she says.

Her service was so good that repeat customers would specifically ask that she serve them. Every day, she went home with at least Sh500 in tips.

One day, she looked at the customers she was serving and knew there was more to her life than waitressing. She quit and went straight to the bank, withdrew her savings, and went back to Technical University of Kenya, and paid her tuition and exam fees in full for her Advanced Certificate in business administration.

In January 2006, still jobless and in need of an income, a friend informed her of a job opportunity in sales at an IT firm. The friend passed on Sitah’s contact information to the recruiter, who called her for an interview. She was apprehensive; she had never worked in sales and was completely unfamiliar with IT, but she went for the interview anyway.

“Just give me three months and if I don’t deliver, you can let me go,” she recalls informing her employer. A week later, Sitah started work at Message Labs Africa, an IT firm in the city, earning Sh8,000.

“To this day I thank God for that company because it launched my career.”

Within three months, she had signed her first sales contract. Sitah worked with what she had — great people skills — to make sales. She also thanks Octavian Sumba, a IT networking security consultant, who mentored her, encouraged and challenged her to strive harder.

“He inspired in me a lot of confidence,” Sitah says.

Seven months later, when Sumba was setting up his own company, Sitah moved with him. She worked at Integrated Networks and Communications Ltd, an IT Firm, until 2008, earning Sh38,000, which felt as if she had won the lottery.

“From there, the rest is history - the poor girl had become rich,” she jokes, adding, “For the first time, I felt like a real professional.”

Sitah grew from strength to strength in her IT career, going on to work at Isolutions Associates, whose CEO is James Kinyua, a man she singles out as one of the people that helped to propel her to where she is today. 

“With his help, I registered at Computer Pride College and studied a diploma in information technology — fast forward to 2012, I graduated with a degree in information technology [from] the same college, which is accredited by Middlesex University in the UK.

“Not so bad for a village girl,” she remarks.

Sitah is now the regional country manager for East Africa for SWIFT, a global company that offers financial messaging services to financial institutions.

Her average day is spent offering support to East African banks. She handles complaints, or upgrade needs with the SWIFT transfers systems, locally and escalates any cases to the South Africa, Dubai and Belgium offices. And this has seen Sitah travel to South Africa, Holland, Belgium, Mauritius, Tanzania, Uganda and Rwanda.

“I am really grateful that they (SWIFT) saw something in me, and wanted me to be part of their organisation,” she says.

Sitah’s hard work now allows her do things she only dreamed of slightly over a decade ago. She is now able to travel the world and has invested in property and other assets securing her future.

In the future, she hopes to start a charity organisation that houses and rehabilitates sex workers; her experiences working as a late night cashier exposed her to the challenges they face, and she would like to help as many of them as possible to start afresh. She believes that with God’s favour, this too she will accomplish.

***** 

Here are Sitah's top 11 musts for anyone aspiring for success:

1              Don’t expect anything from anyone. 

2              Don’t expect anyone but yourself to rescue you from your current plight.

3              People will respect you because of your willingness to give your best.

4              There is no specific formula for success.

5              Don’t shy away from doing anything, as long as it is, legal to get to where you want to be.

6              Eat from your own sweat, not from someone else’s pocket.

7              Your background does not define who you are.

8              Get out of your comfort zone; move around in circles better than yours to see what opportunities there are for you.

9              Socialise with friends who challenge you to do better for yourself.

10 Hard work pays 

11           If you put in something, you will definitely get something out of it