by Monique Maddy

Chapter One

Mutiny in Dar es Salaam

June 1993. The British Airways Boeing 747 began her gradual descent through the thick layer of clouds, bringing into full view the majestic snow-capped Mount Kilimanjaro. After more than 24 hours of travel, the six of us all looked and felt pretty ragged. But I could feel the sense of adventure rising in the others. Unbeknownst to me at the time, they had already achieved their primary objective for the summer, even before we had done a day of work. They were in Africa.

Barely a week earlier I had been attending commencement exercises at Harvard. Now here I was, a freshly minted MBA, seizing a second chance at realizing my dream of giving back to Africa, the continent where I was born. I had tried once before, going through the United Nations, and had been disillusioned horribly by the experience. But now I was a little older (thirty), a little wiser, and armed with the knowledge, skills, and valuable contacts that I had acquired during my two years in Cambridge.

General Colin Powell, then the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had urged us in his commencement speech to "take from Harvard not just knowledge, but wisdom; not just intelligence, but also humanity; not just a drive for self-fulfillment, but as well a sense of service and a taste for hard work." I was leading the charge, accompanied by what I presumed was a battalion of like-minded troops: five eager and idealistic first-year HBS students. They had chosen to intern for me and my shell of a start-up rather than for one of the well-established and lucrative consulting firms such as Bain or McKinsey, or for the prestigious investment banks like Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley, all of which were eager to snap up fresh HBS talent. These firms were professional meccas for most HBS students; in 1993 a job offer from one of them was validation that you had arrived, that your $100,000 investment in higher education had paid off, and that you were set to achieve greater and greater things in life. During the spectacle of "hell week," a frenetic five-day period of intense interviews, an overwhelming majority of otherwise smart and rational human beings at HBS subject themselves to humiliating boot-licking sessions that masquerade as interviews, typically conducted by HBS alumni who come seeking new Harvard blood for their companies. This cycle guarantees that many of the best and brightest are processed efficiently, like blue-chip cogs in the corporate top-executive manufacturing process. These firms are not for everybody; they certainly were not for me. Even at the best of them, differentiation is a liability, and I was different -- and had no desire to conform.

I was certain that my five interns were different too, that they shared my vision to change the world: to build Africa's first transcontinental communications company. I had spent my entire second year at business school obsessed with pursuing this goal. I launched the effort in earnest in September 1992. As part of the elective second-year MBA program, HBS students can opt to conduct field studies, usually in teams of three to six students, that allow them to study a particular area of interest and apply some of the basic management and analytical tools that are learned in the first year. Some of these studies are funded by major corporations, which have particular projects they want an MBA team to work on. Other studies are sponsored by smaller companies, and yet others, such as my own, are initiated by students, who either absorb the costs of the field study themselves or, if they are particularly industrious, raise funds from anyone who will back them. I sent letters to six major U.S. communications companies seeking money for my study, and whenever possible, I addressed my correspondence to someone with a connection to the business school, usually an alumnus in a top management position. For example, one such person was Henry Schacht, then the CEO of Cummins Engine Co., a graduate of the business school, and a close friend of John McArthur, the HBS dean at the time. Henry was also a member of the board of directors of AT&T, then the largest long-distance carrier in the United States.

Through Henry, my proposal eventually found its way to an executive who headed up AT&T Submarine Systems, a division that was working on a proposal to build a fiber-optic cable around the continent of Africa. But I soon learned that AT&T did not care how many people had access to basic telephone service in Africa. What the company needed was political influence with the governments of the African countries to ensure that what little telecommunications had already penetrated the continent would benefit AT&T. Thus, the division head informed me, my field study was not the right fit for AT&T.

Even so, I received a total of almost $50,000 from sponsors including Sprint International, the Lockheed Co., General Electric, and Motorola. I needed $100,000 to conduct the full study, however, and time was running out to submit my proposal for faculty approval. I had to find another $50,000 fast.

Having worked for the UN for five interminable years before I went to Harvard, I knew that UN money was always available for new ideas, as most of the old ones had failed. The organization was reinventing itself constantly to become relevant to poverty reduction -- or merely to stay alive. I knew exactly what made a successful proposal in the eyes of the UN and similar development organizations. Certain topical buzzwords had to be included: poverty alleviation, small-business promotion, environmental protection, and empowerment of women in developing countries. These were the ones most in vogue in the early 1990s. For me, applying for a grant from the UN was like shooting fish in a barrel ...

The foregoing is excerpted from Learning to Love Africa by Monique Maddy. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022

Imprint:  HarperBusiness; ISBN:  0066211107; On  Sale:  04/13/2004; Format:  Hardcover; Subformat:  ; Length:  ; Trimsize:  5 1/2 x 8 1/4; Pages:  368; $24.95; $38.95(CAN)