Choosing the customer first

A young man in Casablanca has saved enough to start selling something. He has two ideas. One is phone accessories from a small kiosk by a busy tram stop. The other is handmade sandals, sold to a few shops and directly to people who find him.

He is choosing between them on excitement. Which one feels like him, which one his friends admire, which one he can picture on a sign.

That is a real feeling, and it is the wrong test. Neither idea is one decision. Each comes with a whole life built in, and he will live that life every day.

The kiosk means selling to strangers who will never learn his name, on margins so thin that a cheaper seller two stops away can ruin a month. Price is the only thing anyone asks about, and whoever stays open longest wins. The work is easy to learn and, within a year, the same every day.

The sandals mean fewer customers, who come back and bring friends. The price becomes a conversation about quality, and one bad batch of stitching costs him his name. The first months will be slow and he will be learning for years. Shops may take three months to pay him, and he will probably like the people he sells to.

Neither is right. But they are completely different days. One is spent watching a competitor. The other is spent with a customer.

Before falling for either idea, the plain questions are worth asking. Who buys this, and why? Will they come back? Do I respect them? Will I still be learning in three years? How will anyone hear of me at all?

The product is the smaller choice. Whoever you decide to serve decides what your days will feel like.