From John Meadley

Working with John Leech

John introduced me to Dar es Salaam in the 1980s when we were looking at the viability of a seed capital fund, an initiative funded by USAID.  The American agency usually works only with American contractors, and that RIO somehow inveigled itself in the project was no doubt down to John’s earlier experience managing the Tanzania Development Finance Company, and his diplomatic skills.  I was new to this world and accepted John’s mentoring without question.

So it was that John walked me through the maze of streets in central Dar on my first day, pointing out how easy it was to get from our hotel to all the key institutions we needed to visit.  It never occurred to me that this was not usual behaviour in the aid world, where cars and drivers were often involved, especially in the “hardship” posting of Tanzania.  And I happily continued to walk my way around town in subsequent visits, even after having been mugged one evening on the way back from dinner (the reassuring presence of John and other colleagues helped me chalk it up as a lesson in how not to carry a bag).

I watched John came alive walking along those streets, pointing out shortcuts  that only an old hand would venture to take.  Instead of feeling we were slogging on foot getting hot and sweaty, it felt as if we were going on a big adventure.  Tanzania was the first CDC posting for John and Noretta, and in later years both their eyes would light up when we spoke together of Dar.

John was not one for giving lots of advice, rather showing by example how one might behave.  Only once did he check me, and what he said stayed in my mind.  The project of the day was getting stressful, and I vented on the receptionist at the Kilimanjaro (having complained daily about a leaking sink to no effect).  John took me aside and said firmly “never let it get to you.”

Reading John’s memoirs I realise that this was a principle he lived by, having overcome so many vicissitudes so early on.

There were times during our years at RIO that this principle of his must have been tested.  John referred in his memoirs to the Kafkaesque experience of negotiating with a Californian venture capital firm over another venture capital project in Thailand.  I would describe it as a great betrayal.

RIO had persuaded several international institutions to commit to investing US$ 5 million in the project, subject to said venture capital firm coming on board and raising US$5 million on the Thai Stock Exchange.  With the Californians dragging their heels, the deadline for expiry of these commitments was coming up.  John and I attended a meeting with all the parties, when it was delicately put to us that the deadline would not be extended.  They were in fact telling us the project was dead, but the Thai way was to put it obliquely, so obliquely that I only understood we faced a setback.  John of course knew what it meant, and the two of us sat in silence in the back the car of the chairman of one of the Thai banks summoned to drive us back.  As we entered the project flat, to make conversation, I remarked on the extraordinary experience of sitting in the back of a Bentley.  John replied he was afraid that was to be our consolation prize.  That was all John said that night as he absorbed the implications of what had happened.

RIO had put years of effort into the project in which John had paid a pivotal role, all unpaid (fees were to be contingent on the establishment of the fund).  As the unravelling played out, and the serious implications to RIO became clear, I and other colleagues had choice ways of describing the villains of the piece.  I don’t recall John joined in, other than the odd shaking of the head at the ‘extraordinary behaviour’.

Never let it get to you.  I’m not sure I managed to live up to that principle, but John did remind me that one can choose to carry on and keep faith in people, despite the setbacks that life throws at you.