Last week, I travelled to Nkhoma to attend the unveiling ceremony of the tombstone of the late Rev Dr Mgawi, an occasion that carried deep personal and communal significance. Almost a fortnight before my journey, I contacted an acquaintance who lives at Nkhoma and asked whether he could provide me with the telephone number of the manager of one of the lodges within the Mission. He responded promptly and kindly forwarded the contact details, for which I was truly grateful.
I wasted no time in telephoning the manager, who answered courteously enough. During our conversation, I reserved a room for one night and felt satisfied that everything had been properly arranged. At no point was I informed that I needed to pay a deposit or undertake any further step to secure the reservation. Naturally, I assumed that my booking had been confirmed and that all I had to do was arrive as agreed.
On the day of my journey, I reached Nkhoma shortly after sunset. The fading light and familiar surroundings stirred memories of my formative years spent at the Mission. I drove directly to Mbawa Lodge, situated on the western fringes of the Mission, expecting nothing more complicated than collecting my key and settling in for the evening before the following day’s ceremony.
To my surprise, the manager was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there appeared to be no member of staff available apart from the watchman, who greeted me politely but seemed uncertain about how to assist. I explained that I had booked a room and asked him which one had been allocated to me. He admitted that he had no idea but offered to telephone the manager, who, he explained, had travelled to Lilongwe.
After speaking on the phone for barely a minute, the watchman returned with words that instantly shattered my expectations. He said, “Zikuonetsa kuti simunatsimikize za booking yanu m’njira yopereka ndalama, ndiye room yanuyo ayigulitsa kwa ena (It appears you did not confirm your booking by paying some money in advance. Your room has therefore been given to someone else).”
The news struck me with the force of a heavy log. Having travelled all the way from Blantyre only to discover that I had nowhere to spend the night in a place that had shaped so much of my early life was profoundly disheartening. It was one of those moments when the world seems to grind to a standstill and rational thought momentarily deserts you. Returning to Blantyre that same evening was entirely impractical, while driving the fifty kilometres to Lilongwe in search of accommodation, only to return the following morning, was hardly an economical option given today’s fuel prices. Fortunately, my extensive network of friends and acquaintances at Nkhoma Mission came to my rescue, sparing me what might otherwise have been a thoroughly miserable night.
In fairness, I can understand why the manager chose to allocate the room to another guest. From a commercial perspective, he may well have wished to avoid the possibility of an empty room if I failed to arrive. His fundamental failing, however, lay not in the decision itself but in his communication. The responsibility rested squarely with him to explain the conditions under which my reservation would remain valid. Had he informed me that I was expected to pay either a deposit or the full amount in advance, I would readily have requested his bank account details or mobile payment number and transferred the money electronically without hesitation.
Ultimately, the real issue was customer care. Fear of losing business may have motivated the manager’s actions. Yet, he overlooked an equally important reality: poor treatment of a genuine customer can inflict far greater damage than an unoccupied room ever could. People naturally share both their pleasant experiences and their disappointments with others. Those who enjoy writing write about it. Anyone perceived as the source of unnecessary distress risks acquiring an unfavourable reputation that spreads with remarkable speed. In the long run, such stories can discourage future patrons, erode public confidence, and prove far more costly than the short-term loss the manager had sought so earnestly to avoid.
Businesses thrive not merely because they offer desirable goods or services, but because they inspire trust, reliability, and confidence. Clear communication, honesty, and respect cost nothing, yet they often determine whether a first-time visitor becomes a loyal customer or a lifelong critic. A simple explanation, offered at the appropriate moment, would have prevented my disappointment entirely and preserved both goodwill and the lodge’s hard-earned reputation.