By John Kariuki

Peter Macharia’s employment with an international organisation epitomised the money-dreams of many youths. As a senior official, Macharia was entitled to a free car, medicare, children’s education and a hefty allowance for a domestic worker and a gardener.

He also enjoyed a round-the-clock guard at his official house. The organisation that he worked for provided free air tickets for him and his family whenever he would travel on holiday, and paid part of the expenses at exclusive destinations. And so life for Macharia and his family ran like a modern fairy tale until his contract with the international organisation was suddenly terminated.

Macharia was given a send off package of a whopping Sh2 million. But because he was unused to any form of frugality and due to the denial of his changing fortunes, he continued with his old high-end spending habits as he sought for the perfect investment options.

He would take his family to pricey hospitals and frequent his old socialising circles, believing an opportunity for another high flying job might unfold.

His finances dwindled fast as his family made greater demands for the good life that they were used to. And to keep everybody happy, Macharia began selling off his assets like land and car.

Rock bottom

Three years down the line, none of his grand investment schemes had borne fruits. Macharia became a recluse, avoiding his family. He hit the bottle hard and was picked dead from a drainage trench one morning. With no fall back plan, his family had to relocate to their rural home in utter penury.

Macharia’s case illustrates a worrying scenario where many people form a careless attitude towards money while at work. But this approach follows them into retirement, or when they go it alone. In fact, many employees are not averse to inflating their claims for official perks like lunch, travel and other expenses when they are out of their workstations.

But few of them see this as an extra income and make good use of it. Instead, many people simply squander it.

Witness some frequent statements like: “Mimi si mtu wa lunch ya mia tatu na huwa napewa mia tano (I cannot take lunch worth only Sh300 while my lunch allowance is actually Sh500).” And to crown the cavalier attitude towards such perks: “Mimi sinywi mshahara nakunywa allowances tu (I don’t normally touch my salary but only spend the allowance I earn at my job for alcohol).”

Other people often go into business and give themselves a salary and full perk that are equivalent to their last pay package. And this is often regardless of whether or not their businesses have picked up.

This careless attitude only leads to their destruction and assured penury regardless of the size of their termination benefits.

Anslem Ombati, a personal finance banker, says that most official perks make some people poor when they come too early in their working lives.

“There are people who have never bought a single issue of a newspaper in their entire working lives, relying on the office one even when on leave,” he says.

Other freebies include airtime and Internet services, suit and household goods allowances.

“The full cost of this comfort zone is bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later to such employees,” says Ombati.

He adds that while a company house may look like a big favour to an employee, one may be tempted to postpone his or her house acquisition plans for too long. And when the time for construction comes, it will be many times more expensive than it was twenty years earlier.

“Many embarrassing moments arise when some employees are suddenly sacked or forced to retire and they have nowhere to take their household goods,” says Ombati.

Similarly, furnishing an employee’s house at a firm’s expense may put his or her plans to buy essential household goods at bay. This banker advises people to see through the façade of all official freebies and to institute their money plans all the same.

Construct yours

“If you have a furnished company house, its strategic to also construct yours and furnish it as tastefully on the side,” he says. Similarly, the provision of an official car should not deter one from buying and maintaining a personal one. 

Sam “Nujoma” Njaramba, a retired state security official, says he has learnt the hard way the enormous social cost of his job.

“My status entitled me to plenty of favours within and outside the force,” he says. Scores of people who owed favours would pay his hotel and pub bills, and he would spend very little of his personal money for many years.

“But when I retired, the flattering also stopped,” he says.

Njaramba’s first shocker was how things had gotten expensive because suddenly there was nobody picking up his bills.

“I also realised that I could not easily connect with my kin and neighbours for missing in action for too long,” he says.

Suddenly he was a stranger to all the people to whom he had been sending apologies during crucial events such as weddings and burials owing to his busy work schedule.

“In retirement I have since became outgoing and have been able to mitigate this ugly scenario,” he says.

And the returns from it are plenty. His old friends and neighbours have been giving him vital tips on investment and cheap ways of doing everything from Medicare to travel.

“Through these networks, I have avoided enormous money losses that often mark the lives of many retirees who go home in the mentality that office perks and freebies will continue,” says Njaramba.