Honesty and turst are a creditor's capital

Honesty and turst are a creditor's capital

By Ati Nurbaeti

JAKARTA (JP): When Amas Misbah first walked down alleys carrying kerosene stoves, he was embarrassed. At 21, he was the target of many women's merriment.

"Hey, did your wife kick you out?"

"Are you going camping somewhere?"

What he was doing was being determined to learn from his uncle, who had a 20-year career of selling goods on credit.

Mang (Uncle) Ade managed to have his own shop for a while and his sons now go to college. Another creditor has been able to make the haj trip.

The profession of selling goods on credit has long been synonymous with Amas's hometown in West Java, Tasikmalaya.

"I would say 75 percent of creditors are from Tasikmalaya," Amas said, though he is not sure why.

"Maybe we just inherited the talent from our forefathers," he said.

Jakarta's teeming kampongs provide a vast market. Thanks to a creditor, one can meet all the needs of urban life.

Even if a store holds a 50 percent discount, a tempting tape recorder of Rp 200,000 would be too much for a vegetable vendor, a construction worker, or a prostitute.

Anything can be theirs by paying Rp 500 or Rp 1,000 a day, or a week, to men like Amas.

One can even skip a day or two and Amas will understand.

Apart from Tasikmalaya, many say that people from other areas would not stand the routine for very long; collecting small payments daily through entire kampongs for months on end.

But for Amas, now 26, with almost 100 clients in Pejompongan and Petamburan, Central Jakarta, his uncle's work seemed light.

"Mostly all you do is walk around with a book," he said.

You're free to set your own work hours and holidays. Just take in orders and have them delivered, he said.

As an apprentice, Amas first followed his uncle on his rounds.

Sometimes Mang Ade would deliberately return to Tasikmalaya, leaving Amas to collect the payment.

This is when he began to learn the character of each customer. "By and by we get to know and trust each other," he says.

Amas was then trusted to do the shopping for orders, contacting shop owners in Tanah Abang and Jembatan Lima who already knew his uncle.

"Beginners start with the basics like glasses and plates," he said.

After a satisfying first deal, the client will then order more expensive items. Now, Amas says fondly, his clients "have all become like family".

A shrewd estimation is essential in deciding to agree on a customer's request. He considers the customer's profession, their reliability, and whether they are a tenant or house owner.

Goods costing about Rp 200,000 are rarely offered to inhabitants of the nearby red light district. "We've got to be careful," he said. But the customers there are his favorite, paying up to Rp 5,000 daily for shoes or bed sheets.

If trust is broken, Amas will decline to take more orders. "Sometimes there are clients who protest, 'how come I still owe you that much?'"

"That means that while I trust her, she does not trust me."

Most clients, he says, have faith in the notes in his big brown book.

Amas says he is never offended by harsh reactions when he comes to collect. "If some of them use strong words I understand, because I know it is their nature," he says.

He denies that creditors are rich, although total credit markup reaches 100 percent of the goods.

"We use the surplus to buy more items," he says. "And one must take into account the risks involved."

The greatest risk in his five years of work was last year, when fire razed many of his clients' homes in the nearby kampong.

He tracked down some of his clients not long after, but they pleaded with him, saying they had lost both the goods and their earnings.

Amas hasn't even bothered to count his losses. "It gave me a big headache."

Then the worst flood hit the area a few weeks ago.

This time he didn't even try collecting. He was busy himself, moving goods upstairs.

Even without these disasters, Amas is prepared.

"Our fortunes from Allah cannot be exchanged with another's. One person may say she cannot pay me but she pays another creditor -- that's just not my share of fortune." That is why he does not worry about competition.

In reflection, he says, it is not enough being a native of Tasikmalaya.

"My uncle would not have lent me my first Rp 3 million if he did not see I could be trusted."

Honesty, he said, is a mandatory requisite.

One must also not throw money around. Just enough for the movies once in a while, and visits to his family.

One must not be grumpy or sharp-tongued, you have to smile a lot.

And education?

"Don't ask that, I'm ashamed. School is not important in this job. It's just learning about people, how to approach them, how to get along."

Financial success alone does not bring respect back home.

"People talk if your behavior is bad," he said.

Orphaned from three years old, he says he sometimes wonders why he is destined to take care of the whole family.

"Maybe if my father was alive I could have my earnings to myself, like other men."

Nevertheless he is proud. His younger sister will soon graduate from secondary school.

Amas has no wish to continue school. Even college drop-outs have shifted to being creditors.

He hopes his business will expand, "but I have no lofty dreams."

"We should plan in accordance with our capacity."

One thing is sure. "If I have a son, he must not be a creditor like me."

"He must be better than me." At least a stable office job, which Amas once yearned for when he was younger. Indeed he treasures the freedom of being his own boss.

But his son, he says, must not inherit the stress of unpaid debts, and clients who disappear with his trust.