My 2021 Annual Review
Why I wrote this: It is part of a longer reflection that I did, and I’m putting a summary here to 1) Build and Learn in Public, 2) Maybe readers will find a template or idea that interests them and/or motivates them to articulate their own personal annual reviews and 3) If you are here and can help, or just want to talk about some of the things that I am thinking through, please reach out to me!
2021 was one of the most significant years for me in a long time. After nine years, I moved out of Kenya, and left the business that I built there in someone else’s hands. I made it to London the second to last day of 2021, via Virginia, New York, Detroit, Chicago, Louisville, Nashville, Amsterdam, Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico. My poor dog has now been to four continents. I got engaged.
I didn’t make myself a plan for 2021.
It was my first year where I did not feel completely entwined with my company Access Afya, where I always had annual plans and reviews. But if I look back on it, I think I achieved a lot and pushed myself through this year of transition with creativity, curiosity and at least some discipline. In this review I’m reflecting on what I learned from my professional and personal transitions.
Access Afya, thriving on it’s own
Professional
I transitioned from Founder and CEO of Access Afya to Founder and Board Chair. I joined Assiduity Capital, a new healthcare investor, as a Venture Partner. I gained new perspective on the entire ecosystem of healthcare in Africa, and less on just helping my company win. Two things I learned from these moves are:
On Letting Go
People often ask me if it was hard to leave Access Afya. “It’s your baby,” they say.
It’s actually ten years old, and I think in start-up years that makes it at least a college graduate living in my basement.
Overwhelmingly, I feel pride, and I am completely grateful that I get to watch something I care about grow, inspire others to lead it, and have the time and headspace to work on new things. I miss it– but I was ready to let go.
My first piece of advice to others looking to transition from companies that they’ve built is to leave when things are going really well. I did a relatively good job of this: there was over a year of cash on hand, an improved business model after a strategic pivot I had taken the company through, and a new telemedicine app that was starting to get some traction.
My second piece of advice would be to see enough data to support and protect your business as appropriate, without being so exposed that you start to question things that are not mission critical. When the business is doing really well, it’s easy to smile and not pay attention to all of the micro-decisions made by the team along the way. When the business isn’t doing well, you start to pay attention to those micro-decisions, which creates a lot of stress for you and whoever you put in charge. When you let go, really let go. I did not do a very good job of this at first. While never trying to claw back any control, I had very good access to company data and fairly strong opinions on everything I saw. I had to learn when to share and when to hold those opinions in.
Investors can be start-ups too
I thought “crossing the table” from a startup CEO to an investment fund would feel like joining a group of seasoned experts sagely discussing the healthcare system. From a stack of Bessemer caliber investment memos, I would learn about innovation across a range of business models and technologies. I would learn more about interrelated pieces of the ecosystem.
It was a little more chaotic than that.
In my first few months at Assiduity, I found myself designing and co-leading strategy sessions, mapping core operational processes, and teaching the team about entrepreneurs and how they think. We needed to regularly change focus and targets to align with continuously shifting strategy, timelines and priorities.
That’s when it hit me: investment funds have a lot more in common with us entrepreneurs than we might initially think.
They are pitching, wishing and dreaming, just like the businesses that they invest in. They are trying to prove their models and show traction. (At least the news ones) They have investors and potential investors, whose feedback and participation (or lack thereof) causes them to shift goals and strategy.
As an entrepreneur, all of this is relatively “behind the scenes” when pitching a fund. Crazy idea: what if we had mutual diligence? What if investors had data rooms where they showed the pitch decks they use to talk about their funds to LPs, their ownership and investment committee structure and their portfolios?
My birthday, on the Jurassic Coast
Personal
I have been working to move to London for years. It’s a little surreal to finally be here. I am in a new city, without a new job. Here are some things I’ve learned about myself from the personal transitions I made.
Place Matters
I’ve been writing about and thinking about “place-making” for a while now. I knew that Nairobi wasn’t the place for me a long time before I left. I loved my neighbors, coworkers, gym, etc… but I never felt fully at home. At home in that way we can only be when our energy is aligned with the physical space around us.
It is amazing to experience how much additional energy I have now, having spent so much time this past year in places where I feel more at home. I am learning that as I build my next venture, I need to pay more attention to where I am, both physically and emotionally.
Writing is one way to Always Produce
I do not need to jump into a new fulltime job immediately. I have a fellowship that gives me space to work on evolving my ideas, some of which could lead to businesses or side projects. I have been able to get comfortable weaving together a mix of consultancies to fill in the gaps.
I had a lot on my mind when thinking about what to work on next. This quote from Paul Graham is about making sure that your ideas of what you want to do actually matches what you choose to do on a daily basis.
Another test you can use is: always produce. For example, if you have a day job you don't take seriously because you plan to be a novelist, are you producing? Are you writing pages of fiction, however bad? As long as you're producing, you'll know you're not merely using the hazy vision of the grand novel you plan to write one day as an opiate.
My writing has helped me make sure I am constantly producing.
As I’m starting to explore my ideas around Neighborhood Vitals, I have been writing concept notes, documenting examples in practice, drafting interviews and writing my own internal FAQs on how my thinking is evolving. Writing is ultimately about ideas, and is probably the best forcing mechanism for figuring out what you want to do (next).
A few other things I’m proud of from 2021:
Taking boxing and painting lessons, and finishing my first woodcut print since 2014
Completing Write of Passage 7, launching melissamenke.com after owning the domain for more than 10 years, publishing 6 essays and sending 5 newsletters,
Exposing way more of my ideas and thought process to the internet than I ever thought would be comfortable.
Spending at least some time in 14 different states through multiple road trips in the United States