Fatherhood and financial security: How James Agin masters both

Agin's banking trajectory spans decades of high-level positions. He began at Absa Kenya in 1993 before moving to Uganda as corporate director in 2004.

After a stint as managing director at KCB Uganda in 2008, he returned to Kenya in 2010 and rejoined Absa Kenya in 2014.

After lunch, he walks out to the hotel’s back garden/patio for our interview. Suspicious-looking clouds have begun to gather overhead. "It looks like it will finally rain," he observes with quiet authority. His father was a weatherman, after all. And it does rain. A day later. But still.

Do you remember when you were 10 years old?

Yes, I used to go to my dad’s office and sit there the whole day. He was a meteorologist. His office was at Dagoretti Corner. My mom was an administrator in agricultural companies. She worked on Saturdays, so I would accompany her to work and sit with her.

I always accompanied them to work whenever I could. I was very fascinated by watching my parents work. Of course, there was always the promise of a good lunch. I had a good childhood. I enjoyed the privilege of being the last-born.

And now that you are 55, you must be exploring some existential questions about life and why we are here.

For sure. I have been really deliberating on the next phase of my life and how the skills I have can be leveraged to have a better impact on society.

So I'm very passionate about the financial sector, deepening and allowing people to be a lot more in control of their finances and the opportunities available to them. This is because I get the impression that many people are not fully aware of what's available.

So for me, and looking at it from a coaching and mentoring perspective, I want to help younger people who are just getting out into the workforce start planning for financial safety in the future, which I'm told is not a big thing in the current generation.

I don’t think you are ever too young to start thinking about your future from a financial safety perspective.

We grew up in environments where we took care of our parents in their old age. I'm driving in an environment where I don't want my children to feel they need to take care of me. If anything, I think circumstances have changed where we probably need to be supporting our children even as they start life, to give them that small push, and then hopefully, they pick up momentum and move on.

What have you learned about money so far?

That it’s never too early to start saving. It's never too early to start thinking about how your future is going to pan out. I was in those environments where you started working and felt that you had no responsibility—just enjoying life.

If your salary was delayed by a day, you'd be in trouble. I had a friend who started investing very early while we were saying, "I will start doing one or two when I get married or get a better job."

Financial security means that when you're out of formal employment—especially for people like us who are professional employees—you should be able to continue living a life as close as possible to the life you lived when you were in formal employment.

I'm very aware of my age in relation to this background. I still feel like I have a lot to give and do at 55, compared to how I saw my dad when he was retiring at this age. I want to make sure that the family is taken care of in the future because I’m a late starter. I still have a very young family. My eldest is 16, my youngest is eight, and there are four of them.

Are you laughing out of sympathy, Biko?

No, no…sorry, so you started late…

Yes, and because I have a young family, I’m working on some serious spreadsheets and NPVs. I’m aware that there are young turks eyeing my job now, saying, "This guy is blocking us," and I’m aware that anytime, I might be called into an office and told, "Dude, here is a small package, it’s been great," and then I’m sent packing.

I need to be ready for these realities. I also need to pursue what I consider my passions, which happen to be around financial investment safety for younger generations and leasing businesses, which I feel strongly about.

Is there any reason you started fatherhood a bit late?

It’s a bit of an interesting one. In my early 30s, I relocated to Uganda for work, and I was of the view that I would settle down when I came back because I wasn't dating then. I had a perception—which is one of the learnings I've had later in life—that I wanted someone more challenging to find, you know, someone aggressive, self-standing, no children, double income.

So I spent six good years working in Uganda, came back, and married a Ugandan. I was 42 years old when I got married.

What inspired you to pursue a career in financial services?

Actually, no. I stumbled into it. I'll be very honest—I wasn’t very sure what I wanted to do. I went to high school, assuming I was going to do well, but I didn’t. I was in Lenana and did my A levels at Strathmore. It was nearly a given that once you go to Strathmore, you'll do well.

So you can imagine the embarrassment. I ended up doing a BSc General at Chiromo, distracting doctors. We were called idle soldiers.

[Laughs]. So in university, I was studying, but with no focus whatsoever. My first encounter with what I wanted to do was during my vocational training toward the end of university. It was at the National Oil Corporation of Kenya.

I worked there as a temp before getting into an auditing job. I then got into the Barclays Leadership programme. That’s how I ended up in banking.

What do you find yourself dedicating more of your time to now?

The beauty of marrying late is that you are calmer. My peers who married earlier had to undergo a lot of hustle. In my 40s, I had already done whatever needed to be done and left that behind. I was more focused. I find that this has enabled me to be a more present father. So I spend a lot of time with my children—A LOT of time. My weekends, my evenings, my mornings—whatever.

Putting the kids to bed, and praying with them is routine for me. Weekends. I'm a father of one boy and three girls, so I always feel that father's presence is very important.

What moment from your past would you be keen to relive?

After my dad retired, he moved to the village like most retirees did. We remained in Nairobi with my mom for a long time. I was still in school, so were a lot of my siblings.

But he was gone to prepare the home so that when mom retired, she could join him. I was a teenager then, and I had no interest in going to the village. We are from Migori; it’s a long way from here.

No way I was going to get into an OTC or Akamba. So I never went much to see my dad. If I could relive that moment, I’d travel to see my father more. I’d spend time with him. When he died, I don’t think I knew him that well. I knew he was a man of integrity.

In hindsight, I think he retired to the village so early because he was part of a very traditional group of men who believed that men provide, and if you're not able to provide, you're probably a lesser man than that. So to me, the relocating was probably a cover, as opposed to something he had to do.

Moving to the village was a way he could hide his inability to provide.

What would you ask him now if you had a chance?

Where we come from is perfect for growing tobacco. All around us were tobacco farms, except our farm. My dad refused to grow tobacco, even though it was very lucrative. We were an island of tobacco.

I would ask him why he refused to make that money.

The second question: My dad turned down a Master's degree scholarship to MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology). I saw the letter when I asked him, and he said that he couldn’t go because he was schooling so many of our relatives. I would want to ask him if he would do it again, knowing what he knows now.

What would you say is the hardest thing you've had to do so far?

Turning down lucrative MD positions for major banks. Jobs that come with amazing benefits. I wouldn't even be worrying about school fees now. I'd be sending that invoice to some finance department, and they would take care of it.

But I turned it down to preserve fatherhood. My children are very important to me, and these jobs can rob you of moments with them because they are highly demanding.

Breakfasts to attend, dinners to attend, engagements which sometimes come over the weekend. The temptation was there, of course, because who wouldn’t want all that? But then the sacrifice for me would have been too costly.

Those were decisions I really grappled with.

If you had to ask the universe for a sign on something, what sign would that be?

I hope it gives me a sign that I'm not wronging people unknowingly. That while I'm doing things in good faith, it has unintentionally been landing badly on somebody else without my knowledge.

What has been your life's most difficult lesson so far?

Both my parents are deceased now. My mom has been gone for four years. She had retired and moved back to the village. I feel like I could have spent more time with her. [Pause] I didn't spend enough time.

We used to talk every other evening, and she'd come because, you know, she had medical conditions. But I wish I had made time to go to the village and sit down with her and just chat. Two years after she died, I would be seated in traffic, and I’d pick up my phone to call her, only to realise she was gone.

When I go to the village, the routine I had of driving in and going to sit down with her on the verandah is no more. Now, I drive in, and there is nobody to receive me.

If told that your life was ending today, what’s the last business you would attend to?

It would definitely involve my children. Like I mentioned earlier, the NPVs I work on are very serious, and the scenario planning is intense.

I’ve had to look at my “ifs” from all angles: What if I can’t work again? What if I’m let go? What if… It’s unending, and this is a lesson I’ve learned from seeing this happen to other people.

The thing to do would be to try to maintain the lifestyle, but I’ve always been clear that will not be me. I will have to look at what to cut out completely.

What will I sell? Will I sell my car and buy another one? Will I move, sell my house, and move to another one? I'm constantly doing that recalibrating thinking so that if something is to happen—job loss or my passing—there should be a plan around so that this 8-year-old can get to university, and then after that, if there's anything left, good luck, but if there's nothing left, at least I've done my part.

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