It was 1993 in Africa. I was young man of 20 who pedaled to school every day on a creaky red bicycle. Every day for three months, I’ve ridden my ancient red bicycle to the university in Lomé, a city ten miles away from my home in the distant suburb. My family was too poor, I did not have the money to live near campus. The university officials told me to wait a few months for the student housing lists to be posted.
If I was patient, if I followed the rules, I would have my room.
So I was patient. I rode my red bicycle to university and home again every day, a journey that could take four hours in heavy traffic or in rain. I lived off meager and erratic allowances from my father, who had sent me to the university to get a coveted education. The ancient red bicycle is also a gift from my father, the best he could offer.
Three months, and I would no longer need the bicycle. I would have a real room close to the university to stay in. But for now, I pedaled the four-hours journey every day.
I wasn’t a large boy, nor a well-fed one. There was little money for food. I burned through the scant calories I received daily far too quickly because of my long rides, becoming skinnier by the day. I began to stay on campus long after my final class finished, waiting for the cafeteria to open. The food there was more nourishing than anything I could afford at home.
I rode home in the dark. Even with the additional cafeteria meal, I could not get enough to sustain me for the energy I needed on those long rides. I couldn’t focus on the road. Sometimes I felt dizzy. There were days I lost control of my red bicycle. I came home bleeding then, cleaning my scrapes, pedaling off again the next day.
When the three months are up, I told myself, I will eat at the cafeteria all the time. I will stay in the library to study, to get the most out of this education. I will make friends.
I hoped that living on campus would finally allow me to make friends.
I was desperately lonely. My father had thirty-six children by seven different wives in our far-flung village. My father held me up to his other children as an example, a role model, and I appreciated the depth of the opportunity afforded me.
I loved the university, the stylish city students, the chance to become something more, but I was not a city student. I had no time to meet kids my own age or to study hard in the library with other city students. I was still a country boy with no money, and I had to ride away every evening to my home.
Three months is a long time to wait.
I rode up to campus on my old red bicycle on the morning the rooms allowance lists are published. My name was not on them.
I rode home that evening despairing. I could not keep riding to campus like this. I was already skin and bones, and I was not getting everything I should out of my university education. It was a huge opportunity, one that few people in my small village have had. It was my chance for success, and I was wasting it, because I could not devote the time and energy it needed.
All of my time and energy went into the long journey to the university every day.
I arrived at my home and sat outside. Next door, there was a man with three children. I watched him try to clear his backyard of debris, the little ones pulling at him. I thought how much easier everything would be if someone could help me as easily as I could now help the old man. I sat there for a moment, watching the old man and his children.
I stood and walked over to my neighbor. I offered to clean the backyard for him, to help teach his children. Education was a rare commodity in this area. The neighbor accepted gratefully, and I suddenly had something I’d been badly needing for the months I’d pulled myself to campus on my old red bicycle.
A friend.
Three weeks into teaching the children, the neighbor told me there was a woman in the neighborhood who needed help managing her store’s inventory.
And so I did, stopping in every few weeks to see how she was. She sometimes gave me food, or extra money. Other neighborhood people began to hear about the country boy attending university. “So helpful”, they said. “Not like other boys. He is a good boy”.
I did help. I taught some of the children, or simply watched them so their parents could accomplish their own tasks. Some of the children had big dreams; I tried to point them to the right teachers. The adults in the neighborhood began to come to me for lessons in French, reading, and writing.
The neighborhood talked about me. “Thoughtful, courteous, helpful”, they say. “He is a good boy. He will help you”. My benevolence reputation grew wildly in the neighborhood.
And in return, they began to help me.
After a few weeks, I no longer needed to ride my old red bicycle to university. The community always made sure I have a ride from someone. Someone in a car, a motorcycle, someone who could get me to the student bus station.
My father didn’t send me money anymore, but the people paid me for my favors. Some days, I, the skinny, underfed country boy had so much to eat from my generous neighbors that I gave it to others who weren’t as fortunate. On Sundays, I went to church with a dozen or more friends.
I had everything I ever wanted, and I couldn’t remember ever trying to get it.
I had an inquisitive mind; it made me such a good candidate for the university. I thought about how things work, why they work. For some reason, I was receiving food, shelter, employment, and transportation from people who not long ago were complete strangers. I was almost certain that if I had asked for those things outright, those same people would have shaken their heads and turned away.
How did the transformation occur? And could the same process earn me success in other ways? What had I done to earn their good favor?
I had committed to helping them first. I had done so without ever thinking of what they could do for me.
And somehow, it had made them want to help me.
When traditional methods failed me, I created a new system that worked. I made emotional connections with others in my community, and garnered a reputation for good will and good service. In doing so, I earned money, services, and credibility – and I enjoyed myself doing it. I made friends, I made allies.
Never once did I have to ask for the things that I needed; they came to me.
Today I own and operate Linkcrafter, a business founded on the same principles that got me through university and into a highly successful marketing career. These same strategies took me, a country boy, and created an expert able to help millions of other individuals become highly successful entrepreneurs.
Years of study and strategy have transformed my schoolboy-impulsive decision to help others into a powerful business tool called IRaaS – Information and Recommendation as a Service.
IRaaS is about Love, IRaaS is about caring about each other, paying attention to the small bubble of dreams and personal goals in life of our neighbors, friends, customers and contacts, and simply giving them something that cost nothing: information and connection.
That is “Information as a Gift”.
I was a poor boy; I couldn’t have afforded giving something that cost me, so I was giving only something I could afford giving: information and knowledge. It was not a choice, but I discover later on that information is the most powerful gift a person could receive. I’ve called this formula “Knowledge for Food”.
The formula is very powerful and it has the potential to change the life of millions of people, if we can make easy and straightforward to follow.
During my career I’ve slightly changed the basic formula to adapt it to business environment. To build relationship with customers and contact I’ve developed what is now called “Information as a gift ™”. Instead of giving Planners, calendars, T-shirts, Mugs, coupons, or other material or monetary gifts to build relationship, I’ve advised organizations to pay attention to their contacts’ needs and interests for products and services other than their own, and send their customers to other business for Free as a powerful way to build loyalty and Growth.
“Information as a gift ™” has a tremendous power. It induces positive emotional connections to customers and contacts.
3 years ago I’ve started a company to make this concept available for all and easily usable by small business owners. We’ve call it “Knowledge for Free Advertising ™”.
We’ve created a video that explain the problem of advertising for small businesses. It is visible on the home page of our website (http://linkcrafter.com) or on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxr-5rfHyOI).
At a deepest level, the vision of my company is to preserve and advocate the belief that “We are on earth to serve each other”.
We envisioned a future where our tools make each individual on earth an active and generous sponsor of the success of other. We call our technology: PIG (Personalized information Gears).
With PIG, we want to bring everyday millions of people closer to their dream through quick access to relevant, personalized, trustworthy information.
Sometimes the old ways are not the best ways. I invite you to discover IRaaS, a powerful marketing system that is transforming the marketing landscape. It’s changing the lives of small business owners as surely as it once did the life of a young student.