The female waitress on the further edge of the restaurant was looking at her suspiciously. Makena had been sipping on her now cold latte for the past 30 minutes. She tried keeping busy on the computer but her eyes always trailed back to the entrance. She fought a burning desire to call Mark. She didn’t want him babysitting her but once the deal is sealed, “He will be the first person I call,” she promised.
Hello, Julia here on behalf of Juma, Breast Cancer Foundation.
Juma is running late. He will be there in the next twenty.
The text message on her phone read.
Twenty more minutes, Oh Jesus. If it were at the roadside café in her neighborhood, she would have asked the waiter to chomea (warm) the latte for her but she was in Java; one of the few black people in the midst of various other races.
Breast Cancer! How did I miss that important information in my research? I know so little about cancer in general leave alone breast cancer, how on earth do I make such a topic trend? “Breast Cancer!” she said out loud, attracting the attention of the nearby Hispanic couple.
“This will be a perfect time to call Mark,” she contemplated.
“But Google always got me,” she said as she typed on her computer. More people had come into the restaurant slowing down the Wi-Fi network.
Facts about Breast Cancer
She typed and hit the search button.
“Makena?” A male voice said from beside her.
“Juma here, sorry to keep you waiting,” he continued.
Makena reached out and shook his hand, mumbled something inaudible while nodding her head continuously.
Juma a short dark youthful guy had founded the Breast Cancer Foundation after his only sister, in her early twenties was diagnosed with cancer three years ago. He was probably in his late twenties, 29 at most; he stood a little taller than Makena. Although Mark had insisted on maintaining eye contact with clients, Juma kept drawing away. He is shy; Makena had concluded something that made her more comfortable.
“Create a hashtag that will resonate with most Kenyan youths,” he said.
“Something that won’t scare them but would instead make them attend the free workshop and get screened.”
Makena nodded, admiring how focused and passionate he was about this course.
“It would be nice, if you can get a celebrity to go braless for this course.”
Makena scribbled on her note book; Awareness, celebrity…
She already had a plan in mind; this would be the project that launches her into the deep, to swim with other big fishes.
“My assistant will email you all the multimedia materials you need,” Juma said with finality in his tone.
Makena knew that they had now come to the business bit now, where they talk about money, this will determine their next move. Mark had advised on clearly illustrating the prices for different packages on the website.
“This would save you so much time in meetings and negotiations,” he had advised.
“Something else about the hashtag, I have to approve,” he added thoughtfully.
“Last year we had problems with getting the right synonyms for breast,” he coughed.
“Get a term that is youthful, street and not too provocative,” he continued as the female waiter placed his green tea on the table.
Makena was getting worried that she would come out as stupid. She had not altered a single word since Juma had started talking. She needed to say something; the opportune moment would be when he takes the first sip of his green tea. Who takes green tea at java?
“Alright, I totally understand what you are looking for. First thing I will do is come up with a social media strategy, customised based on your statistics over the past 6 months and then my team will get on it,” Makena said carefully, choosing her words carefully not to say too much or too little.
“Here, your deposit!” Juma said placing an already signed cheque on the table. Makena picked it as Juma emptied his cup of green tea and summoned the waitress.
“That hashtag!” he said as he grabbed his keys from the table and left.
‘Makena Communications’the chequeread.
Excitedly Makena packed her Macbook and walked past Koinange Street towards her bank on Muindi Bingu Street.
“The check is not in your name, I’m sorry we can’t cash it,” the teller at the cheque counter said. You need to open a separate business account.
- Company registration
- PIN (Personal Identification Number)
- ID
- Completed forms
The teller listed on a stick note and handed it to Makena together with the account opening forms.
“PIN number? Oh my God, this is going to take me weeks!” she pondered as she exited the bank.{jcomments on}
