How alcohol breathalyser changed corporate culture of oil multinational

The recent introduction of alcohol meters on our roads is slowly but surely changing the social patterns of Kenyans.

In clubs and other social joints, many are changing their alcohol uptake levels and patterns for the fear of publicly facing legal punishment for indulgence above driving limits.

Many who worked in the oil multinationals in the 1990s can recall the stringent alcohol control policies introduced to moderate employees (and contractors) alcohol use.

It all started in March 1989 when an oil tanker (Exxon Valdez) spilled about 40,000 cubic meters of crude oil off the pristine shoreline of Alaska.

The captain of the tanker was said to be drunk at the time of the accident, making him unfit to be fully in control of the ship.

The Exxon Valdez spill was perhaps the most environmentally significant incident at the time. The media went viral while politicians, the public and shareholders screamed corporate negligence by “Big Oil”.

What followed was a devastating loss of Exxon brand value, huge fines and large cleanup costs. From the ashes and lessons learned, the company had no option but to make changes in their business operations.

Among the changes by Exxon was introduction of a draconian alcohol and drug policy. Later, the rest of oil industry followed suit.

At the time, I was a director of the Exxon affiliate in Kenya (Esso) and in charge of operations. We were required to immediately implement the new policy to ensure that employees in sensitive and strategic jobs were not under the influence of alcohol and drugs while on duty.

Presence of alcohol and drugs was banned in all company-owned properties. It was a shocker all over Exxon worldwide. I recall I was in a group of managers who met in London in 1990 to discuss how the policy would be rolled out in various countries with varying cultures.

At the meeting, the French categorically said that they could not take meals in company canteens without wine. To them this was a major cultural issue.

I innocently asked if khat (miraa) was a drug for the purposes of the policy. The long haul drivers in Kenya at the time were mostly Somalis and nearly all of them chewed the herb.

We submitted a sample of khat for analysis in Europe. It was classified as a drug and we had to enforce the ban in Esso Kenya operations, and it was not easy.

In came the alcohol meter and also procedures for urine sample analysis. All employees in sensitive activities were to be randomly tested for alcohol and drug use.

Strategic senior employees (CEOs and those in charge of operating departments) were also subjected to random testing. Their seniority required them to always be sober in the event of a major emergency involving the company. Random testing for these senior executives was conducted by experts who flew in from Europe.

An employee driving a company vehicle or a car on company loan; employees driving on company business; business entertainment; Christmas parties – all became candidates for no use of alcohol.

For any reported incident (driving or operational) the first step of investigation was to test for cause on use of alcohol. Many employees stopped drinking alcohol. The policy permanently changed their lifestyles.

I still recall a number of interesting incidents in Esso Kenya related to the alcohol policy. A worker at the Mombasa oil terminal tested three times over the alcohol limit early one morning.

He confessed to having consumed “mnazi” (a coconut derivative) the previous night. It was said that the coconut stuff actively and continuously brewed in the stomach. Its avoidance was a lesson quickly learned by the coastal workers.

An Esso sales representative was involved in a car accident. He was alone and apparently very drunk. He decided to abandon the accident vehicle on the road from which a half-full bottle of whisky was recovered the following morning. He never reported back for work.

One Saturday morning, a truck loaded with products at the Nairobi depot for delivery to Machakos collided with a vehicle resulting in an explosion that killed six people.

At the wheel of the truck at the time of the accident was an unlicensed turnboy receiving driving lessons from the driver. My CEO and I were summoned to the London headquarters to explain how it all happened. Our jobs were certainly at risk.

The questions asked in London were tough. Was the driver alcohol-free when he left the depot? If he was, could we confirm with certainty that he did not consume alcohol en-route to Machakos?

Further, how could we permit a non-licensed fellow to drive an Esso branded truck?

Of course we had no control over the driver once the truck left the depot. We trusted him, but trust was of no consequence without checks.

We pledged to institute a procedure to randomly check all truck drivers in the field to ensure they were always free of alcohol when on duty. We also banned turnboys from all company transport operations.

Also promised was to cancel the affected transporter’s contract. The transporter became the sacrificial lamb. We were off the hook, but six people were already dead.

After the Exxon Valdez incident, Exxon pioneered the oil industry’s health, safety and environment (HSE) management systems.

Before the incident, I can vouch that no credible HSE systems existed anywhere in the world. It was a case of Exxon diligently following through lessons learned with policies and procedures to avert repeats.

In Kenya, how many times have we encountered serious incidents, disasters and emergencies? How often have we followed-up with corrective actions to prevent future recurrences?

Do we have a specific, well-resourced institution that correctly and sufficiently fits the definition of a national disaster prevention and response organisation?

Mr Wachira is the director Petroleum Focus Consultants. [email protected]