Career lessons no one will teach you at the university

My first job after graduation many years back was as a merchandiser in Uchumi supermarkets. I still remember the day I reported, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, to work.

My first real job in the world of marketing! I was so proud of myself, having ducked the drudgery of the accounting world (I’d interned briefly at one of the big audit firms during my second year. As far as I was concerned watching paint dry was infinitely more interesting. I changed my major to marketing after that disastrous experiment and shimmied happily on).

The direct marketing ad hadn’t been too descriptive but it sure sounded like a big girl job. ‘‘Engaging customers, with a view to up selling’’, the ad read in part. Wow! Very important work!

What they omitted was the fine print, as I discovered soon enough. Day one was orientation, and the job was quite simple. To sell rice to customers in three Uchumi hypers — Ngong Road, Langata and Sarit Centre — on rotation.

I had to make sure that no customer picked any other brand for the weeks that we were on the shop floor. And most importantly, behave like my life depended on it.

The brand promise was that our rice was premium stuff. So good that if we could only get shoppers to try it, they’d be hooked for life. Moreover, there were onerous daily targets to be met, so we really had to hustle.

Training completed, I set to work. I would meet the targets, I resolved, in that overly self-assured way that upstarts do. Enter lesson one. There’s nothing quite as humbling as the hustle. I encountered every type of customer, and Phillip Kotler, as the marketing Bible is fondly referred to, hadn’t prepared me for any of them.

From the middle aged men with their inappropriate comments, to their overbearing wives who marched past my spiel as though I was a pillar of salt.

To this day I have bought many an item in supermarkets, because I know that just one kind heart can restore the faith of a young girl working on the shop floor of life.

But that was not all. At the end of the day as we did our tally, I discovered another brand of customer — the ever so courteous one who would graciously accept my rice – but leave it in the trolley at check out. Grrrrrrr....

My blood froze the day I ran into my former campus mates. Or more precisely, the day my former campus mates ran into me.

We’d heard rumours that PricewaterhouseCoopers gave a decent dressing allowance to its new recruits so that within a few days of reporting they were dapper enough to dine at the table of kings.

And their confidence confirmed it — they’d hit the job jackpot. I shrank a few inches more when they graciously accepted my rice, and (rather pitifully) wished me luck. Everyone must run their own race, I realised.

Accepting this cruel turn of fate, I soldiered on into my next lesson — the big picture. Those few months pummeled me. I discovered that life, is indeed, lived in a pixel, but wisdom is choosing to see the picture.

No, revolving targets, aching ankles and waning confidence were not my expectation when I changed majors just two years earlier.

But this was the work that was available to me. And I needed to put something down on my CV, because I realised that this could very well be the stepping stone to greatness. I was right. Within a few months the boss’ assistant quit and based on my performance I was chosen to replace her!

In this new role, I came face to face with my fourth lesson — who you know matters a great deal.

Call them mentors, networks, friends; the bottom line is this — that the corporate/business world is not a level playing field. Working with my boss, I quickly came to understand the value of carefully calibrated networks.

Her consultancy was a busy one, and it was because, not only had she distinguished herself in her delivery, but more importantly, I could see, she was a part of the fraternity.

She knew of opportunities long before they became public knowledge, and we landed well-paying job after job, as a result. I learnt this one well.

Every job I have landed since my rice days, as I affectionately call them, has been one I came to know of through networks. You need to know the right people, because as you rise higher and higher up the ladder, it’s who you know, not what you know, that counts. Grossly unfair, yes, but nevertheless true.

Choose the impossible bosses — the tyrants have plenty to teach too. A lot of corporate chatter characterises demanding superiors as ‘‘bad’’. But having worked under several over 15 years, I know firsthand the value they bring.

The office isn’t a place you should seek comfort, and certainly not within your first 10 years. (If you are relaxed, it’s time to get out!) A good boss will stretch you to the limit, a limit you don’t think you could possibly endure.

But ultimately, iron sharpens iron. And while I spent a great deal of time whining, I noticed something about this breed of bosses — they are often very fair and surprisingly generous once you rise to their expected level of performance. And so I have learnt to put my pride aside quickly and often, since.

Watch and learn. Hitherto, I didn’t care for details. Not only did I not know the difference between pishori and basmati, quite frankly I didn’t care. Faced with targets, and customers with numerous objections, the details quickly became paramount.

I learnt to observe everything that happened on my aisle. I soon began to profile customers based on what they bought and how they bought. I peeked into their trolleys and learnt to make connections.

Customers to avoid

After a month or two, I could pick my jackpot customer out of a group of shoppers, and after a while, I was rarely wrong. I knew which customers to avoid (they’d chat me up and leave without a purchase), and which ones were likely to buy a lot.

I also discovered the world of loyalty — repeat customers who’d pick the product without any hesitation or compulsion. The longer I stayed on the floor, the easier things got. Bliss.

Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. Pacing that floor, I quickly realised that my greatest ally was… wait for it… the shelf stocker. That’s the guy who ensures a product is readily available and decides where everything goes on the shelf.

My fortunes depended greatly on him because a stock out, especially on weekends and at the end of the month, could be disastrous. Placement was everything too. A lot of selling is subliminal, and generally, increased shelf space leads to greater sales.

My shelf stocker was also a wealth of information. He knew everything about the different products and how to sell. Together we schemed our way to optimal placement, larger displays and more cash in the bank.

Who’s the shelf stocker in your life? You know, the person you need to impress (or alternatively, not annoy) to get ahead?

And the greatest lesson of all? A healthy dose of perspective. Life is a mixed bag. Sure, it was rice then. Over the years, the challenges have changed, but this lesson has remained. The good comes with the bad. Expect some hits and some misses.

There will be bad and good days, bosses, presentations, reviews etc. And as I see young professionals starting out within my current organisation, I realise I have had it pretty good over the years. But that’s a story for another day.

Mrs Kirimi is a communication professional working for a local bank. email:[email protected]