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> Editorial
> What's the Story?
> Mrs. Fixit
> Desperately Seeking Ingredients...
> Passionate about Mill Road
> Caribbean Masterchef
> Everything is Possible!
> A Sanctuary on Mill Road
> Boat People
> Going Green with Al-Amin
> The Akashi Project
> Open All Hours
> Mesmerised by Meze
> Come Together
> The Girl from Arapau
> Still Sweet and Spicy
> A Real Neighourhood
> Lei Si Fan Mei?
> Flight from Baghdad
> Streets of Revolution
> Stepping up the Ladder
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Going Gren with Al-Amin
Abdul Arain, the owner of Mill Road’s Al-Amin grocery store first arrived in Cambridge from Kenya aged 16. On his first day in his new home town, he left his house in Abbey Road and set off across Midsummer Common to explore. Seeing some youths his age on the common, struggling to tame a kite, Abdul went over and gave them a hand. It is a telling vignette. Twenty-five years on, joining in and giving a hand is what Abdul Arain is all about. |
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I didn’t always run a shop. For years I was in senior management, auditing for a multi-national. But I fell out with the company on ethical grounds. I found I could no longer work for an organisation that put profit before ethics. So, I resigned. It gave me plenty of time to think about where I went from there…
It was about that time that I got a call from a family friend who ran a small food store. He was in tears, desperate for help. The bailiffs were at his home with a warrant to collect his outstanding council tax bill or remove goods to cover the debt. He was a father of six, trying to do the best by his family and my heart went out to him. I went to his house and paid the bailiffs the money (around £650).
But my friend was caught in a cycle, with much of his debt the result of money owed to him by restaurants he was supplying. He couldn’t pay his suppliers so they stopped sending the goods. He also had difficulty in covering the shop’s rent. My family was on good terms with some of his wholesale suppliers as well as his landlord, so my father asked me to speak to them. I managed to get his suppliers and landlord to agree to extend his credit terms.
But the poor man had neither capital nor time to reinvent his business. He decided to fold. All the time, his debts were increasing, I felt responsible. I couldn’t just walk away. So I agreed to take over his business debts, and try to collect whatever money was due to him. Surely with the right management and further financial injection we could turn the shop round. That was my original goal. Then simply sell the shop as a going concern to recover whatever I’d invested. I renamed the business Al-Amin, the nickname meaning ‘just’ or ‘fair one’ given to me by my late grandfather back in Kenya. He was a devout Muslim, and a giant within our community.
| "I renamed the bsiness Al-Amin, the nickname meaning ‘just’ or ‘fair one’ given to me by my late grandfather back in Kenya." |
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I’d certainly never seen myself as a shopkeeper, but I soon realised that I enjoyed being my own boss, and loved working with the public. I had unwittingly found my ideal occupation! Every morning I woke up looking forward to the day. Most important, I was at last free to operate on an ethical basis.
My brother Aahmer joined me and with the rest of my family, we set out the store’s policy. We wouldn’t promote any item which is harmful or results in harm to an individual or society. Out went the cigarettes, alcohol and the lottery tickets. We’d promote local interests and businesses. We’d take the environment into consideration; make a difference to the lives of others. We’d put people before profit.
Building on the theme ‘the melting pot of cuisine and culture’, within six months, we completely changed the little grocery’s stock. People certainly responded and Al-Amin developed a wide and wonderful customer base. I can now say that most of my customers are my friends. Many will drop by and discuss personal issues with me, the loss of a loved one, or a relationship break-up. I feel humbled that they feel they can do this. Today Al-Amin’s clientele are students, pensioners, housewives, local traders, masters of some of the Cambridge colleges including Nobel Prize winner Professor Amartya Sen who introduced micro-credit for the poor, allowing thousands of Asian women to set up their own businesses. Professor Sen would come in with his family and stock up on Bengali hilshah fish, dahl pulses, chillies and turmeric, curry leaves… Any success I’ve had comes first and foremost from Almighty God who has guided and equipped me with the resources to deal with the challenges I face. None of it would be possible without unconditional support from members of my extended family, in particular my wife, my brother Aahmer and my parents.
Of course, locality is a massive part of Al-Amin’s success. It is heartening to see Mill Road people bring their friends into the shop and show them around with pride, almost as if it were theirs!
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In 2004 Al-Amin launched a series of initiatives to play our part in saving the planet. We began by proactively reducing the amount of plastic bags we were using. Then we introduced the Al-Amin cloth bag, giving away the first 2500 bags free. Next came bio-degradable bags at the Al-Amin counter, and the donation of 2p for every carrier bag our customers reuse. Mill Road shoppers are not your average shopper: a whopping seventy per cent reuse their bags! All proceeds raised are donated to a local charity. Just now it’s Brookfield Hospital in Mill Road. So everyone, including the environment, wins.
With the Cambridge Carbon Footprint, we’re launching an art competition for primary schools called Energy Wizards. We’ve just run our first competition to encourage our shoppers to take individual action against climate change. The winner gets a trolley-dash round the shop, filling it with as much as it’ll hold in 60 seconds. The runner up gets a 20 second dash…with a basket! |
We’re delighted we could save the Mill Road Post Office from closure in 2005 when we offered it a home. What is a community without a post office at its hub?
About eight months after taking over the shop, early one morning, while I was unloading a delivery, a dishevelled young man approached me and asked for money for something to eat (he said). I suggested that if he helped me, I would give him some food. He continued to turn up two or three times a week, sometimes drunk, asking for ‘loose change’. I simply repeated my same offer. It wasn’t important what work he did, just that he earned the money. I suggested that if he came each morning and helped me for a couple of hours, I would pay him a regular wage. Amazingly, he did. Then after a couple of weeks, I suggested that if he arrived sober, I’d up his pay. Today that young man is head of the bakery in a large local store.
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| "Mill Road shoppers are not your average shopper: a whopping seventy per cent reuse their bags!" |
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Over the years, Mill Road had gradually become home to many outreach agencies, resulting in more than its fair share of drunks and beggars. By working with the council, local politicians, the police, and some truly dedicated traders and residents, we are finding solutions to these problems. We’re not just interested in moving the drunks on, but creating partnerships to offer help and support to those unfortunate individuals. After all, the fact that you’ve stumbled does not mean you can never walk again. The true gauge of success for any society is how it looks after its most disadvantaged.
There are five rules I (try to) live by daily: free your heart from hatred (forgive); free your mind from worries (most never happen); live simply and appreciate what you have; give more; expect less. It’s a daily challenge. Certainly nor as easy as flying that kite! But if we all do our bit, mere ideas can get off the ground. It’s remarkable the difference we can make.
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