I Made My 1st Million Through School Tenders, But One Deal Turned Me Into a Pauper

For five years, I have been in the school supply business. When I started, it was never meant to replace my career. I was working as an accountant in Westlands and supplying one secondary school on the side. It felt manageable. Safe.

I mostly supplied non-perishable food products. Rice, beans, maize, and occasionally beef. Nothing fancy. The margins were modest but encouraging. On a good contract, I would make between Ksh40,000 and Ksh100,000. I would get about three contracts per term, it was not life-changing money, but it proved the business could work.

The challenge was always uncertainty. Tenders were competitive and seasonal. Payments were irregular. I would apply to dozens of schools and land a few. Because of that unpredictability, I held on to my accounting job. It paid the bills while the business grew slowly in the background.

When Things Finally Started Moving

By my third year, something shifted. Referrals started coming in. Schools I had supplied before invited me back. I hired one helper to manage deliveries so I would not interfere with my day job. Around this time, I began supplying a well-known national school in Kiambu.

The work was steady but still not enough for me to consider quitting employment. Then, unexpectedly, the school awarded me a full-term contract and cut out other suppliers. I was now responsible for supplying food for over 2,000 students.

For the first time, the numbers moved fast. What used to take a month to earn, I could now make in days. Some days, my profit reached Ksh50,000. I felt like I had finally cracked it.

I resigned from my accounting job. I hired more helpers. My monthly profits climbed to around Ksh500,000. Within two months, I had crossed my first million shillings in profit. By the end of the term, I had made over Ksh1.5 million.

I remember feeling calm in a way I had not felt before. I believed poverty was behind me.

Also Read: Jackfruit Finance SME Loan Review: A Gamechanger for School Suppliers?

When the Biggest Client Walked Away

The following term, my contract with the national school was not renewed. There was no clear explanation. Just the usual board politics that suppliers quietly accept.

I still had other schools, including a popular boys' high school in Nairobi. They expanded my tender for the next term. I hesitated because the school had a reputation for delaying payments. I understood that risk, but I underestimated how serious it could be.

The first month went well. Deliveries were smooth. On paper, the profits looked promising. I expected payment by the end of the term at the very latest.

The second month passed with no payment.

By the third month, my working capital was almost finished. I took a loan to complete the final deliveries, confident that once the school paid, everything would balance out. Schools closed without settling my invoice. I followed up constantly. The promises kept coming.

Waiting for Money That Never Came

School closing periods are critical for suppliers. That is when we apply for new tenders so that when schools reopen, we are ready. I applied to other schools and secured contracts, relying heavily on the expected payment from the school in Nairobi.

When schools reopened, I was still unpaid.

Cash dried up quickly. I could not pay my staff. Other schools cancelled their contracts when I failed to deliver consistently. In the school supply business, reputation is everything. Once doubt creeps in, it spreads quietly and fast.

The first casualty were the employees. Then I defaulted on the loan. The bank did not understand school payment cycles. All they saw were missed monthly installments.

Eventually, my assets were auctioned. Almost everything I had built was taken.

Also Read: Money and Me: How I lost Money to Friends.

Starting Again from Zero

I tried to return to formal employment, but my old job was gone, and opportunities were limited. At home, my wife took over all household expenses. That shift was humbling in ways I was not prepared for.

I am now rebuilding slowly. With caution. With lessons I wish I had learned earlier.

Looking back, I realise my mistake was not ambition. I assumed that profit meant stability. I built my business around one major client without preparing for delays or disruptions. I trusted that large institutions would operate with the same urgency that small businesses require.

They do not.

Today, I understand that timing matters as much as income. That growth without buffers is fragile. That one good season can hide big structural risks.

If you are supplying schools or any large institution, and things look good right now, I hope my story gives you pause. Not fear. Just awareness.

Sometimes, success is not about how much you make, but how well you survive when the money does not arrive on time.