Future Planning
In Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, there was a women’s tailor shop. The common practice in tailoring shops in the Gulf is to have a master tailor and one or more craftsmen working together. If the stitching fee for a suit is 100 riyals, the craftsman receives 45 riyals, while the master tailor keeps 55. The master tailor cuts the suit and gives it for stitching, essentially acting as the owner after the official sponsor, taking care of the shop’s rent, electricity bills, and agreed-upon payments to the sponsor, as the shop is registered under the sponsor’s name. Both the master tailor and the craftsmen manage their own sponsorship, residence permits, food, and accommodation.
In the tailoring market, there was one shop that was known for doing the fanciest work, handling tasks that no other shop could manage, and of course, charging accordingly. It catered to bridal dresses and costumes for royal family women, with stitching fees running into thousands of riyals. But at this shop, there was only one master tailor who cut and stitched the clothes himself. He returned 90% of the work, saying that one person could only do so much. He would take on the most expensive jobs at the price he named and earn a daily income of around a thousand to fifteen hundred riyals. His skill justified the price, and since the stitching fee was entirely his, there was no one above him.
Back in Pakistan, he built a grand house, and during his daughters’ engagements and weddings, he spent lavishly, surprising the entire family. His sons were still young. When he visited Pakistan, the shop would remain closed. As soon as he returned, customers would line up again. A senior craftsman from the adjacent shop once suggested that he leave the shop’s key with him during his trips to Pakistan and agree on a fixed monthly amount. He declined, saying, “My customers only want work done by me.” The craftsman then proposed, “Hire me and I’ll match your skill. I have more experience.” He still refused.
On his next visit to Pakistan, he suffered a stroke, resulting in complete paralysis of the right side and loss of speech. He was only 50 years old. He sought treatment in both Pakistan and Saudi Arabia but saw no improvement. He went to the market, hoping to find someone to lease the shop and pay him a monthly amount for his established clientele, but no one agreed. The general consensus was that he would not return, and the sponsor would eventually sell the shop, which they could then buy directly. When he had been told to plan ahead, he hadn’t listened. Now, he was stuck, forced to return the shop’s keys and let the sponsor sell it.
He sent someone from Pakistan to run the shop, but that person lacked the skills and language ability to manage it. Within a few months, the shop started suffering losses, and the person left to work under a master tailor at another sponsor-owned shop.
The sponsor put up a “For Sale” sign on the shop, and the first buyer was the same craftsman who had previously offered to manage it during the owner’s vacations. He bought the shop for 50,000 riyals.
The craftsman remarked that the previous owner could have easily managed this in his healthier days. He could have introduced him to the customers, trained him a little, and built enough trust to ensure that his customers would continue coming to the shop. A legal agreement could have been made, stating that the shop’s ownership would remain with him and that the craftsman would pay him a fixed monthly amount, regardless of whether he showed up or not. That arrangement would have ensured him a steady income and compensated him for sharing his trade secrets. Now, when he was paralyzed, he would have benefited from this agreement. Unfortunately, his overconfidence and lack of future planning led to his downfall. He spent his earnings without considering the future and is now struggling financially.
The person he recently sent to run the shop would have come as the owner if he had initially collaborated with the craftsman. Since he was the owner’s son-in-law, he would have taken over as the shop’s manager, earning thousands of riyals monthly while learning the trade and eventually becoming a master tailor instead of working under one.
Unfortunately, many Pakistanis, whether in the Gulf or Europe, fail to plan for situations like falling ill or passing away. We lack the courage and foresight to involve others—whether it be a family member, a brother-in-law, or a nephew—by training them and sharing business secrets, ensuring the continuity of the shop or service. There is no inclination to enter into a legal agreement stipulating that in the event of any unforeseen circumstance, ownership remains with the original owner, while the manager temporarily assumes control. This arrangement would need to be formalized through a partnership expert or a lawyer, with terms and conditions that could be legally enforced if violated, and provisions for replacing the manager if necessary.
Such foresight and generosity of spirit are rarely found. From my experience with my brothers in Romania, Italy, and Spain, I’ve learned that even in small setups like a village fruit and vegetable shop, there’s a system in place for someone to take over the business if the owner falls ill or passes away.
In our community, however, even close relatives often lack the knowledge of business details. When someone dies, goes to jail, or becomes severely ill, the business either shuts down, or a close relative claims ownership under the pretext of settling debts, leaving the widow and children destitute. There is a dire need for awareness and courage to share the responsibility during one’s lifetime so that our loved ones can reap the benefits long after we are gone. It’s all about changing the mindset that insists on keeping everything under one’s own control, which can ultimately come at a heavy cost. Start planning for the future today.
