Image: Mr Abs Ngum. He’s sitting in the back of a safari truck at Fathala Park in Senegal. Safaris have been a growing industry sector in The Gambia and neighbouring Senegal over the last ten or 20 years. If Abs’s taxi venture succeeds, he’d like to branch out into safaris, offering safe, secure, knowledgeable tours to western tourists keen to see local wildlife and to experience the vast, sublime beauty of West Africa.
Appeal to help start up Abs’s taxi service
I’m Graham, and I’m running a campaign for Abs.
Abs is a friend who lives in The Gambia, the smallest country in Africa, with his ma, his brothers and sisters and his tiny wee nephew. His dad died some years back. Abs used to be a woodworker, but the markets closed over the Covid crisis, and he’s finding it hard to get a new foothold. He wants to work. He’d like to set up as a taxi driver. He needs a car.
Quality cars are available in The Gambia — many due to the switch to electric in Europe. At 36, Abs is his family’s sole earner — the other members besides his ma, Jojo, are in school. A good, reliable Mercedes-Benz vehicle costs two to three thousand euros, second-hand. He doesn’t have that, and nor do I. He has past experience in the taxi business and, he assures me, he has the drive to make this appeal work, if you request return of your funds when he succeeds.
Can you find it in your heart to donate a small sum to help Abs and his family? Or would you consider a larger sum to help towards buying a car, which Abs is prepared to repay to you once he succeeds?
My role in this is to help Abs. I will administer the funds with propriety. Gifts will be passed to Abs; returnable sums will be repaid as instructed, circumstances allowing. A full business plan and background info on The Gambia are available if you wish — leave a comment below and I will send you them. A budget is at the foot of this article.
But first: nine reasons not to participate
Abs will give his all to making this project work, and, if it does, he undertakes to return the money that is provided to him other than as a donation.
That must be new, eh? You provide funds and, when the project for which you provide them works, you get your money back; so you can provide them to someone else. Two birds with one pound.
If the project for some reason doesn’t work, you don’t get your money back, or not all of it. But you will have shown belief, and the recipient will have received hope from your belief. And that is still achievement, even if the project fails. Fail forward, they say on LinkedIn.
Here, however, are nine reasons for not taking part, and my responses to them.
1. Abs could be a scoundrel, who will spend the money on drugs, or bet it on a horse.
Yes, he could be. Anyone could be a scoundrel, even the president of the United States. But he has a mother and five siblings and a nephew, and most of them are in school. Maybe they’re scoundrels too. But there is a large possibility that he is concerned for his family and wants to establish a fixed income basis that will make life secure for them all, in far-off Gambia. That is also a possibility.
2. I don’t do these kinds of investments.
There are investments that are more secure than this. And there are those that promise greater returns than this. And some may even do more good than this. Abs is asking LinkedIn members, this blog’s readers and, frankly, anyone at all who’s prepared, to support him, and that is something that better-off people traditionally do for the less well-off. Offer support. It’s the kind of investment that people do, if, perhaps, you don’t.
You may be honest and serious when you say you don’t make such investments. But a lot of people – not you, of course – say such things, who just don’t want to know about problems beyond their front doors.
3. All the money will go to fat administrators and very little will reach the truly needy.
There are charity organisations where the percentage of donations that goes on administration is large. UNESCO, for instance, distributes around 20% of what it receives in donations. Other charities are more efficient; but getting money to projects where they’re needed does take administration. And we cannot ask administrators to give their careers up in order to help the needy.
If you donate to the GoFundMe crowdfunding appeal I have set up for this venture, you will be asked to pay a small contribution to the running of that website. A pound or so. You can decline, in which case the pound or so will be deducted from the funds you provide notwithstanding. I set the target at 3,100 euros to account for such charges. Subsequently, the funds will be passed to me, for administration. But, I will take nothing as an administrative charge. I am giving my time, effort and know-how to Abs at no cost to anyone. That’s my contribution. I too am honest and serious.
4. You cannot help everyone.
No, you cannot. One could militate in favour of a more just distribution of the world’s wealth, lobby for it, raise campaigns, petitions and make speeches from town hall steps, but, in the end, whether that would break the stronghold that corporate stockholders have over the world’s resources is questionable. Only such measures would actually help everyone. But, otherwise, it’s true: you can’t help everyone.
We are exhorted, left, right and centre, to make a difference, and making a difference is what this appeal will do. If it works and if you so wish, you’ll even get your money back. Now that’s something: making a difference that makes no difference to your final bank balance. Of course, you can always donate, instead of lending. That’ll dent your bank balance.
“Not being able to help everyone” doesn’t mean “not helping anyone.”
5. It’s too much to absorb.
The proposal, available on request, contains a whole bunch of information that is not necessary for you to contribute. All, in fact, that you need in order to contribute is the link to GoFundMe. Here it is: https://gofund.me/dc7334ab. The rest is merely to explain why you should contribute.
There is information about The Gambia, where it is, its economy and the background to the appeal. That information is there to allow you to take an informed decision. If it’s too much, I can refer you to an abbreviated document. Or you can simply contribute.
For those who wish to absorb more, there is a link below to A letter to The Gambia, which I wrote last year.
6. What’s in it for Graham Vincent?
Me? I will not be receiving a medal; I don’t think so, anyway. If I do, perhaps I’ll sell it to raise more money for the needy. Like Oskar Schindler, who sold his possessions to purchase the lives of doomed Jewish concentration camp inmates. But, in the end, it’s unlikely.
Perhaps others will ask me to organise appeals for them, and that would be an honour. And perhaps it will all end up costing me time, effort and diligence, and bring in zilch. In which case, I’ll tell Abs, “Sorry,” and pack up and do something else. My stamp collection needs organising.
If this succeeds, I will be happy. You will have granted me, and Abs, happiness. That is what is in it for me. If it fails, I will be unhappy, and Abs will also be unhappy, and I don’t think others will be especially happy that it has failed. But they may not be too concerned, either.
7. You ask too much. How much do you need?
We don’t know. We reckon 3,000 euros is a top limit for the repayment responsibility that would be incumbent on Abs if funds were lent. But if you wanted to give a sum that took the total above that amount or as a contribution towards that amount, that would certainly be welcome. Three thousand euros is not that much, if you have it to spare. It is quite a lot, if you don’t.
We need one person to provide 3,000 euros.
Or two to provide 1,500 euros each.
Or 150 to give 20 euros each.
Or 300 to give 10 euros each.
Or 600 to give 5 euros each.
Or 3,000 to give a euro each.
Theo Maassen, Dutch actor and comic, demonstrates how very difficult it can be to get people to give … one little euro.
8. So, how do I get my money back, then?
You’d get your contribution back, less the GoFundMe transaction charges, if they’re not otherwise covered by you, by telling me who you are and giving me details of how to return the funds. You’ll need to cover the bank charges for doing that, sorry: where would we be without banks?
It’s that simple. Your details will not be processed by a computer, but noted by me, and only me, in a book and then the funds will be reimbursed if, as and when Abs is able to do that. That’s how.
9. If this is a loan, isn’t that covered by banking regulations?
I don’t think so. It’s a private arrangement and people spot each other for loans every day. I’m spotting you for a loan.
You don’t really need to be in the banking business to do crowdfunding, which is what this is. It’s like shaking a tin to collect for the RNLI on a Saturday morning in the High Street.
Crowdfunding is where a large number of people are moved to support a cause with a very small sum, the price of a cup of tea. The objection arises where a particular individual who feels moved to give to one appeal also feels moved to give to all appeals. Because he cannot give €10 to everyone, since that would be tantamount to giving one person a huge sum, and that’s not a cup of tea, but a lot of money.
Here, this is crowdfunding on a different angle, however, because it’s a request for seed capital to start a business, which the recipient will try to repay.
People who have been shipwrecked will often give generously to the RNLI. By contrast, the RNLI doesn’t undertake to return donations to people who are not shipwrecked. But Abs Ngum will repay people who help him start his business, or at least he undertakes to try to do that.
The foregoing are the answers I’ve given to all the reasons people have so far come up with to poo-poo this idea. Perhaps you’ll poo-poo it too. If you do, you won’t be the first, not by far. But you could be the seventh to contribute, if you hurry.
Please help, if you can.
Yours,
Graham
Budget
And, for the caring, if you care, here is a previous article that I wrote when embarking on this journey. I commend it to you.
A letter to The Gambia
I wrote a letter to The Gambia. Here it is. You’re fast asleep I hope and getting some well-earned rest. It’s 3 o’clock in Banjul and it’s 5 o’clock here. 5 o’clock is a time when I often GO to bed, instead of getting up. But I have tea, I have Italian panettone cake, both given me for my birthday two weeks ago, to celebrate the entry into a new year of…