It’s
scary in the dark when a North Wester could be battering your windows with
sheets of rain or the South Easter is threatening to blow just about everything
away. Not to worry you’ll still get it.
They didn’t
call this part of the world the Cape
of Storms for nothing.
You
probably will never have seen how your paper arrives, but when you wake up in
the morning it will be in your driveway, just like clockwork no matter how foul
the weather is.
If you are a newspaper subscriber in Cape Town ’s Southern suburbs you will have
experienced that mystifying miracle daily or at week ends.
Ten years ago Shaheid Alexander gave up his conventional job
as an administrative assistant at the Cape Town City Council for a will-o`-the-wisp
existence of sleepless nights delivering papers.
He starts his night at around 10.30 p.m. and doesn’t get
back to his home in Mitchells
Plain until four or five in
the morning. He and his team of two deliver Business
Day and the Financial Mail during
the week and the Sunday Times, Economist and
the Financial Times at the week-ends.
It’s
a 30 km drive from his home to the industrial area of Paarden Eiland where they
collect the papers and that’s before he even starts his delivery round to customers spread across suburbs from St James to Noordhoek, Fish Hoek and
Simonstown.
Shaheid alone travels something like 200 km a night.
He is constantly haunted by the Fourth Industrial Revolution that is
threatening to eliminate printed papers. His team was also delivering The Times, a daily that was an offshoot
of the Sunday Times, but when that
went digital only two years ago the two drivers who work for him lost out to
some degree. They only deliver the Sunday
Times at the week-ends now to more than 300 homes.
They get paid per copy as well as a transport allowance.
Shops are not on their route as they only deal with subscribers.
My wife and I have been getting our Sunday Times delivered to our home in Kommetjie ever since we arrived here 10 years ago and before The Times
ceased being printed we got that every day during the week as well.
It was uncanny the way Shaheid’s service was virtually
faultless. On the rare occasions that our paper didn’t arrive as expected due
to something beyond his control I would
phone the Sunday Times’ Cape Town
office and low and behold within an hour or so we had it.
A couple of Sunday’s ago there was no paper, but not long after I phoned Shaheid was ringing the bell at our gate. He had driven the 30 km from his home just to bring us our Sunday Times.
A couple of Sunday’s ago there was no paper, but not long after I phoned Shaheid was ringing the bell at our gate. He had driven the 30 km from his home just to bring us our Sunday Times.
It was the first time I had ever set eyes on our
mystery paper man.
“I have to see to my clients,” he told me. “They come
first.”
Aged 57 he is married with three grown up children and four
grandchildren.
“We don’t meet our clients, but I love this job,” he said.
And it certainly shows in the way he does it.
His
parting words to me were: “It was nice to be of service to you, Sir.”
You could not get a
better example of a job well done.
Thanks a million Shaheid.
Regards,
Jon,
a Consumer Watchdog who finds it such a pleasure to meet a shining light like
Shaheid at a time when bad service is very much the norm. We need many, many more Shaheids. The owners
of the Sunday Times are lucky to have
him.
P.S. Any firm in the service industry wanting to
improve its image could not do better than to get its staff to follow Shaheid’s
example.
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