A post-script to the KL Classifieds venture below. 5 years after graduating from HBS, the class of 95 was due to meet for its 5th reunion in June 2000. We were asked to pen a note on what we've been doing since graduation.
Has it been five years? Time just flies in the tropics, with no seasons to remind you of the pace of time. And the tropics is where Steph and I have been all this time, first in Malaysia , now in Singapore.
Yes Malaysia was a little bit of a homecoming, having been living and working abroad since leaving home at the tender age of 16. The settling in process in Kuala Lumpur was made smoother by being with BCG at the time - it was great to work in a familiar work environment whilst getting acclimatized to how things work in Malaysia. But there was one teething problem. Steph and I had to get married again. Let me explain.
Steph and I were married in England prior to HBS, but this was not recognized under Malaysian law as we did not go through a "proper" Muslim ceremony. And there were tough penalties for not going legit (time in jail was a possibility). So on a BCG recruiting trip to London, Steph and I took the opportunity of getting married again before an Egyptian cleric and two witnesses roped in from the adjoining Regent's Park mosque. "Where did you go?" asked some BCG colleagues afterwards. "Oh, I just got married", was the reply. That was February 14, 1997.
Confident from this new marriage, I moonlighted in the evenings writing up a business plan for a classifieds-only paper. The newspaper classifieds market was great at the time, and the idea was to start with the first all-classifieds paper in Malaysia, then take it to Singapore, then use the offline publications to enter the Internet classifieds marketspace. By August 1997, funding was concluded, and I left BCG and we began buying equipment, leasing office space and recruiting people.
There was one small thing. In July, Thailand's currency had buckled. Isolated incident, we thought. Then it came smack bang at our doorstep. Malaysia's currency was now under attack and the stock market swooned - first by 30%, then 50% and by the end of year, by almost 80%. What we thought to be just a financial problem turned out to be a much more protracted one, and the classifieds market went silent.
Whoops. After persevering for one year, I threw my lot in with a group MIT guys who had built the leading jobs portal in Malaysia, JobStreet.com. The mandate was to raise funds and regionalize Jobstreet.com. To date, we have raised two rounds of financing and opened 3 offices (Singapore, Philippines and India) and Steph and I are now based in Singapore.
So it's been a mixed 5 years. Baptism by fire comes close to describing the experience of starting a start-up business during tumultous times. On the other hand, Steph and I had a great experience working together (a situation which, I must confess, I was very wary about initially). I also got known in town as Mr. Batman due to some publicity stunts that required me to dress up as the hooded hero (Didi and Malcolm, thank you very much for the Batman cufflinks). This put me in good stead with venture capitalists whom I was to meet later ("So you're the Batman I read about!"), which then sets the right tone for ensuing discussions.
That's where we are, look forward to seeing everyone at the Reunion!
Friday, July 31, 1998
Wednesday, July 01, 1998
Archive: Malaysian Entrepreneur Thinks Secret Of Success Is Classified
An off-beat article in the Asian Wall Street Journal in July 1998 on some of the maverick marketing tactics employed in my first entrepreneurial adventure, a classifieds paper. I dispute that these were part of my "core strategy" but journalists do need some creative licence..... By LOUISE LEE
TWICE A WEEK, Malek Ali dons heavy black boots and a black rubber mask with pointy ears, then walks into traffic.
Does this sound like an activity for a man with a Harvard MBA ? Mr. Ali thinks so. In fact, it's part of his core strategy for launching his new business, a newspaper.
It's certainly getting him noticed. Children see him and yell "Batman!" out of car windows. Lunch-hour drivers honk their horns and give Mr. Ali the thumbs-up. For two hours, Mr. Ali approaches taxis, private cars and any pedestrian willing to pause, and offers them a flier pitching his publication, KL Classifieds, which he started four months ago.
His weekly 32-page tabloid publishes classified ads and display ads. To sell such a low-glitz product on a shoestring budget, Mr. Ali is betting on in-your-face, street-level theatrics. The effort in part reflects the fact that a generally affordable marketing method for most products -- putting ads in Kuala Lumpur's dailies -- isn't an option for KL Classifieds, since existing papers aren't enthusiastic about running ads for a competitor.
The expense is minimal, other than "a little bit of embarrassment and gritting of teeth," says Mr. Ali, a 31-year-old former associate at Boston Consulting Group, a management-consulting firm. Mr. Ali did use more-conventional methods of advertising during last spring's launch of the paper, which sells for about 25 U.S. cents a copy and includes ads for products ranging from household goods to cars to computers. A launch budget of only $65,000 made television out of the question, so he turned to radio and bus banners. One of the radio spots, which were scripted by ad agency Leo Burnett, portrayed a man receiving a birthday gift: a "combination button-sewing machine with double-action propeller ice-crusher." The spot ended with the tagline, "Want to sell something? Get KL Classifieds." Banners on the backs of buses read: "Forget Monday. The week begins on Thursday," a reference to the day the paper reaches newsstands.
Mr. Ali believes the ads were effective, but he was itching for more bang for his startup buck. "I get upset when people say, `I haven't heard any of your ads,' " he says. So he ended the radio ads after six weeks. Then, on April Fools' Day, Mr. Ali and a handful of his eight staff members hit the street. One staffer carried a steering wheel and walked down the street making engine noises; his T-shirt read, "Looking for a car?" Mr. Ali carried a dog leash that had been stiffened so that he appeared to be walking an invisible dog. His sign said, "Lost something?"
Reactions from passersby ranged from curiosity to sheer fright, recalls Mr. Ali. But the antics worked: they got a burst of attention fast, and the phones lines lit up, he says. "Basically, it was guerrilla warfare," says Huang Ean Hwa, a Leo Burnett ad director who worked on KL Classifieds'marketing effort.
In conservative Kuala Lumpur, where button-down shirts and traditional Muslim dress predominate, a man in a Batman costume stands out. Here, people get excited about it, says Mr. Ali, who is Malaysian. He adds that "people are less jaded" here than residents of other cities, and see the novelty of offbeat costumes and cultural icons.
Some competitors, such as the New Straits Times as well as three tabloid papers, are taking note. "Is (Mr. Ali) a wacko?" says A. Ragunathan, an executive overseeing advertising at the Sun, a local tabloid published by Sun Media Group Sdn Bhd. Still, "a recession like this is when a guy can do anything to get some attention," says Mr. Ragunathan. He adds that KL Classifieds hasn't affected his ad sales at his paper, which has a daily circulation of about 85,000. So far, KL Classifieds reaches between 12,000 and 13,000 readers a week.
The street splash aside, Mr. Ali acknowledges hurdles to overcome. Some consumers have been "suspicious" of the paper's policy of accepting classified ads free of charge. The strategy behind accepting free adds is to boost the classified-ad volume, thus luring more readers and thereby attracting businesses that will pay for display ads. "It takes a bit of customer education," Mr. Ali says. Currently, only 20% of the ads in the paper are placed by paying customers, although Mr. Ali is aiming to raise that fraction to 50% over the next couple of years. He wouldn't disclose thepaper's monthly revenue, but says KL Classifieds aims to break even in "a couple of years."
Getting more people to place personals ads, too, is a challenge, says Steph Magdalino, another manager at the paper. When taking a phone order for a regular ad, she often tries to persuade the caller to place a personal one. "People are shy," she says. "We try to make them expressive. Tell someone you love them!"
On a recent Friday in a dusty parking lot, Mr. Ali transforms himself into the superhero, jamming his boots onto his feet and adjusting his mask. On this day, he leaves off the long black gloves that he sometimes wears. In the noontime sun, "it's just too hot," he says, sweat already forming on his nose.
For the next two hours, he and a few employees work amid the exhaust fumes on one of downtown's busiest streets. Mr. Ali weaves among traffic, waving and grinning and occasionally reaching into cars to shake the hand of a beaming young fan.
One of his customer-service staffers, Nicholas Marimuthu, wears a tall white chef's hat, a reference to the paper's cafe and restaurant ads, and distributes complementary copies. David Tang, a member of the paper's creative team, stands on the sidewalk pretending to sleep. His sandwich board says, "For a more interesting job, read KL Classifieds."
TWICE A WEEK, Malek Ali dons heavy black boots and a black rubber mask with pointy ears, then walks into traffic.
Does this sound like an activity for a man with a Harvard MBA ? Mr. Ali thinks so. In fact, it's part of his core strategy for launching his new business, a newspaper.
It's certainly getting him noticed. Children see him and yell "Batman!" out of car windows. Lunch-hour drivers honk their horns and give Mr. Ali the thumbs-up. For two hours, Mr. Ali approaches taxis, private cars and any pedestrian willing to pause, and offers them a flier pitching his publication, KL Classifieds, which he started four months ago.
His weekly 32-page tabloid publishes classified ads and display ads. To sell such a low-glitz product on a shoestring budget, Mr. Ali is betting on in-your-face, street-level theatrics. The effort in part reflects the fact that a generally affordable marketing method for most products -- putting ads in Kuala Lumpur's dailies -- isn't an option for KL Classifieds, since existing papers aren't enthusiastic about running ads for a competitor.
The expense is minimal, other than "a little bit of embarrassment and gritting of teeth," says Mr. Ali, a 31-year-old former associate at Boston Consulting Group, a management-consulting firm. Mr. Ali did use more-conventional methods of advertising during last spring's launch of the paper, which sells for about 25 U.S. cents a copy and includes ads for products ranging from household goods to cars to computers. A launch budget of only $65,000 made television out of the question, so he turned to radio and bus banners. One of the radio spots, which were scripted by ad agency Leo Burnett, portrayed a man receiving a birthday gift: a "combination button-sewing machine with double-action propeller ice-crusher." The spot ended with the tagline, "Want to sell something? Get KL Classifieds." Banners on the backs of buses read: "Forget Monday. The week begins on Thursday," a reference to the day the paper reaches newsstands.
Mr. Ali believes the ads were effective, but he was itching for more bang for his startup buck. "I get upset when people say, `I haven't heard any of your ads,' " he says. So he ended the radio ads after six weeks. Then, on April Fools' Day, Mr. Ali and a handful of his eight staff members hit the street. One staffer carried a steering wheel and walked down the street making engine noises; his T-shirt read, "Looking for a car?" Mr. Ali carried a dog leash that had been stiffened so that he appeared to be walking an invisible dog. His sign said, "Lost something?"
Reactions from passersby ranged from curiosity to sheer fright, recalls Mr. Ali. But the antics worked: they got a burst of attention fast, and the phones lines lit up, he says. "Basically, it was guerrilla warfare," says Huang Ean Hwa, a Leo Burnett ad director who worked on KL Classifieds'marketing effort.
In conservative Kuala Lumpur, where button-down shirts and traditional Muslim dress predominate, a man in a Batman costume stands out. Here, people get excited about it, says Mr. Ali, who is Malaysian. He adds that "people are less jaded" here than residents of other cities, and see the novelty of offbeat costumes and cultural icons.
Some competitors, such as the New Straits Times as well as three tabloid papers, are taking note. "Is (Mr. Ali) a wacko?" says A. Ragunathan, an executive overseeing advertising at the Sun, a local tabloid published by Sun Media Group Sdn Bhd. Still, "a recession like this is when a guy can do anything to get some attention," says Mr. Ragunathan. He adds that KL Classifieds hasn't affected his ad sales at his paper, which has a daily circulation of about 85,000. So far, KL Classifieds reaches between 12,000 and 13,000 readers a week.
The street splash aside, Mr. Ali acknowledges hurdles to overcome. Some consumers have been "suspicious" of the paper's policy of accepting classified ads free of charge. The strategy behind accepting free adds is to boost the classified-ad volume, thus luring more readers and thereby attracting businesses that will pay for display ads. "It takes a bit of customer education," Mr. Ali says. Currently, only 20% of the ads in the paper are placed by paying customers, although Mr. Ali is aiming to raise that fraction to 50% over the next couple of years. He wouldn't disclose thepaper's monthly revenue, but says KL Classifieds aims to break even in "a couple of years."
Getting more people to place personals ads, too, is a challenge, says Steph Magdalino, another manager at the paper. When taking a phone order for a regular ad, she often tries to persuade the caller to place a personal one. "People are shy," she says. "We try to make them expressive. Tell someone you love them!"
On a recent Friday in a dusty parking lot, Mr. Ali transforms himself into the superhero, jamming his boots onto his feet and adjusting his mask. On this day, he leaves off the long black gloves that he sometimes wears. In the noontime sun, "it's just too hot," he says, sweat already forming on his nose.
For the next two hours, he and a few employees work amid the exhaust fumes on one of downtown's busiest streets. Mr. Ali weaves among traffic, waving and grinning and occasionally reaching into cars to shake the hand of a beaming young fan.
One of his customer-service staffers, Nicholas Marimuthu, wears a tall white chef's hat, a reference to the paper's cafe and restaurant ads, and distributes complementary copies. David Tang, a member of the paper's creative team, stands on the sidewalk pretending to sleep. His sandwich board says, "For a more interesting job, read KL Classifieds."
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