From scrubbing decks to online empire
- By http://www.leadershiponline.co.za/articles/commerce-a-industry/1570-bidding-or-buying
As bidorbuy founder and managing director Andy Higgins comes strolling down the corridor of his Bryanston offices, he could so easily be mistaken for an intern. That impression of the head honcho of the largest South African online marketplace has everything to do with his incredibly youthful appearance, his casual attire and his nonchalant stride. It became apparent, upon chatting to him, that it also has a great deal to do with his utter lack of materialism and a seeming inability to get stressed (or show it, anyway).
Being ambitious, an excellent businessman and having a hugely successful career is something into which Higgins has grown. He had no dreams of grandeur, but was always intent on making the best of a situation and proving himself.
In the last few years, he and bidorbuy bought Jobs.co.za, a top local jobs portal; Shopping.co.za, an online shopping mall; and Classifieds.co.za, an online classified advert listing service – and he is starting an online payment business as well.
Higgins’ path has been unusual – certainly not your average Wits Business School (WBS) MBA graduate’s tale.
According to him, he was Joe Average at Durban High School, with an offbeat bent. He was not interested in rugby and cricket, but rather had a yen for water sports.
Higgins considered medicine as a career but, by Grade 11, he realised that it was not for him. In fact, not being much of a follower, he found school – particularly boarding school – regimented and stifling.
Despite that, he joined the navy after matriculating and loved it, excelling as a diver. “I felt the navy had more purpose and, while they certainly broke you down, they built you up again,” Higgins says. “I felt I could conquer the world, and there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do. My experience in the navy was the most significant in my life so far.”
He went on to study Electrical Engineering at (what is now known as) the University of KwaZulu-Natal – for no other reason but that he believed he needed a university education and had an aptitude for maths and science.
Higgins filled his ‘free’ time during his studies with feeding fish in the aquarium, volunteering for the National Sea Rescue Institute and flying with the Air Force. “I would leave class whenever I wanted, when something more interesting came up,” he adds.
As he completed his degree, he was on a plane out of the country to fulfil his deep urge to travel. He made his way to Fort Lauderdale in the United States, determined to find work on one of the many superyachts there.
Higgins was fired from his first job as chief engineer on the Chantelle ma Vie – which was not surprising, since he got the job without any knowledge of how engines work, what it entailed; and, most of all, because he almost sank this incredibly expensive vessel.
Having to resort to scrubbing decks for money, he reached his lowest ebb. Jobless and virtually penniless, he cut open his leg climbing over barbed wire when looking for work. He was turned away from the nearby clinic because he could not pay for medical attention. “I had to buy stick-on stitches, and just manage,” he says.
Higgins did eventually work his way up to being a chief engineer on a superyacht and, after seven months, he felt it was time to move on to a new challenge. “This period taught me that all these ultra-wealthy people are not special and, if they can make so much money, anyone can,” he notes.
He then did a computer course at the Harvard Summer School – something that stood him in good stead, not least because people saw the name of the university on his CV and were impressed. “Little did they know, anyone can go and do the Summer School courses,” he adds.
Finding it difficult to find work in the US without a work permit, Higgins flew to England, where his brother lived and where he could work.
He got a job in the middle of 1998 – at the beginning of the so-called “dot-com boom” – as a programmer with an unknown online auction company, called QXL.com. He was one of its first employees and, when he left the company a year later, it had a staff of 100.
At its peak, when the company was about two years old, Higgins says, QXL.com was valued at more than British Airways. “It was an accelerated learning curve for me. I worked flat-out – my work was my life. I helped launch the company in France, Germany and Italy.”
In all this, he found his niche and clearly excelled. “I was so excited by the interconnectedness of the Internet and how one can work from anywhere,” he says.
But, by 1999, Higgins was missing home, and he planned to set up a similar venture in South Africa.
When a colleague heard of his plans, she suggested he speak to her father, Professor Yair Tauman, who was one of the initial investors in QXL.com.
Tauman and his Israeli partners talked the then 24-year-old Higgins into thinking on a far greater scale than he had ever imagined. They wanted to go worldwide, and they invested US$250 000 into launching his company, bidorbuy – first in South Africa, then in Australia (where Higgins set up a base) and in India.
The investors quickly raised another US$12 million to put into the company, and they planned to open in 12 countries.
“We were the typical dot-com company, believing in the build-it-and-they-will-come concept. The investors wanted us to just get it out there and not to worry about making money. So, at that stage, we did not charge for our services at all,” he recalls.
Looking back, Higgins sees that period of his life as a blur or a dream. “I remember sitting in a taxi in India with the chairperson of a board of companies who was negotiating with me to buy our Indian company for US$500m. It was seven months old and hadn’t actually made any money.”
He admits: “I was going along for the ride. I let the Wheel of Fortune spin and waited to see where I landed.”
But then the wheels came off the dot-com industry and companies started losing fortunes all around. Not surprising, so did bidorbuy.
“We were on the verge of bankruptcy, and I got the call from Prof. Tauman to say we needed to shut down,” says Higgins. “I was relieved. Although I don’t stress easily, there had been a lot of pressure on me.”
After that, all that remained of bidorbuy was the South African website and the Indian company (which had merged with its major competitor there).
Higgins returned home in August 2001 and ran the show with – at the company’s worst – only one other person.
In truth, e-commerce did not really take off in South Africa until 2005 so, until then, bidorbuy was just treading water.
Higgins decided to do a part-time MBA at WBS, which he thought “would be a nice distraction, as the business was just ticking over.”
Further, he figured it was time he learnt how business was really done.
“I enjoyed the classes, loved the interaction, but hated the research,” he recalls. “I had some brilliant lecturers like Max Mckenzie, Geoff Bick and Kevin Lings (now the chief economist at STANLIB).
“I came out with a lot more confidence in the business world, having learnt a lot about finance and all the things I hadn’t been exposed to before. While it wasn’t a life-changing experience, it was a very meaningful one.
“My classmates thought I was seriously dodgy, based on my interactions in class. I was very vocal in class discussion and asked the difficult questions, and they joked that I was borderline on ethical issues – I love that,” Higgins says, chuckling at the memories.
In 2004, he contemplated packing in bidorbuy – until the merged Indian company was bought by eBay for US$53m, and he could channel some of that money into the local business.
In 2005, as people started adopting ADSL and became more involved in the Internet, bidorbuy business started picking up.
The business really took off in 2007 and, by bidorbuy’s 10th anniversary in 2009, it had 40 shareholders, a 20-strong staff and money in the bank. Now, with 28 employees, it is a household name in South Africa.
It still has significant challenges such as dealing with fraud and the perception of safety. “We have stepped up our safety measures, and are mostly catching people before they are able to commit fraud,” says Higgins.
Looking back, he says: “My 20s were all about work, and slipped me by; but now, at 34, I am making up for it.”
Higgins has had many girlfriends, but still jokes at having been dumped by one who thought his “Citroen C4 was not the right image.” He smiles, and explains: “I am happy to spend money on experiences, but I don’t need to waste it on accommodation or things.”
He still loves travelling and plans to take a three-month break to travel the world.
“I have had some amazing trips recently,” Higgins says. “I chartered a yacht for two weeks and went skiing for another two.”
He is passionate about kitesurfing which, he says, “isn’t easy to do when you live in Johannesburg.”
Higgins may not be materialistic, but admits to being very competitive, particularly on the squash court. “Winning is important to me, but not as important as my integrity,” he says, adding that “a person’s word is gold.”
And Higgins may insist on doing business honestly and with integrity but if, at the same time, he makes a great deal of money, he is certainly not complaining.
Peta Krost Maunder
First published in “Wits Business School Journal”