Глава 4
Listening Between the Lines to Understand True Needs
The Tanzanian heat was overwhelming as Richard Mazengo and I traveled through the center of the country. My mind kept wandering into stereotypical African imagery-a strange mash-up of "The Gods Must Be Crazy" and "Le Petit Prince" with myself in khaki safari gear among baobab trees. The landscape matched some of my daydreams-baobab trees dotted the tawny desert, heat rising in mirages on the horizon. Now, traveling with Richard in a dilapidated pickup with holes in the floor, we battled flat tires and dusty roads on our way to interview entrepreneurs.
Innocent, an entrepreneur I interviewed outside Dodoma, welcomed me with the traditional hand-washing ritual and hot chai. Her simple mud house with thatched roof stood in stark contrast to my American reference points. She sold dried maize at a local market-a straightforward business that had transformed her life. During our interview, when I asked what changes she'd made with her $100 grant, her first answer surprised me: "Sugar for our tea." This small luxury allowed her to invite neighbors into her home, offering sweetened tea with pride.
This seemingly minor detail taught me a crucial lesson about listening. I had arrived thinking I knew what would help people, but I quickly realized I would have prioritized all wrong. Other entrepreneurs showed me similar unexpected priorities-padlocks for security in flimsy homes, non-functioning clocks as decorations, or a single mattress shared by an entire family. Innocent taught me to let people decide for themselves what makes them feel empowered and valued, regardless of how surprising their choices might seem.
My perspective on poverty was permanently altered by my East African experience. I discovered that a small amount of business training paired with minimal capital could empower motivated individuals to climb out of poverty, bringing many others with them. A Village Enterprise grant of $100 typically improved the standard of living for fifteen household members, with ripple effects extending to neighboring families and entire communities.
I was struck by how well-connected even remote villages were through mobile networks and intermittent internet access. Most significantly, I realized the working poor weren't defined by suffering but by their entrepreneurial spirit, hope and perseverance. Not one entrepreneur asked for handouts-they wanted loans to maintain autonomy and ownership over their businesses. These inspiring stories of entrepreneurship could close the great rift between donors and recipients, replacing guilt-driven charity with connection-based lending.
Глава 5
Taking Permission Instead of Waiting for It
Sitting across from a skeptical lawyer at his polished oak desk, I explained my vision of Americans lending money to Ugandans. He interrupted at "Uganda," slamming his hand on the desk: "You can't just start lending money over the Internet to other people!" He bombarded me with questions about the SEC, the Patriot Act, and auditing requirements before declaring my idea "impossible, legally speaking." This was our tenth discouraging legal consultation.
Over several months, we met with forty lawyers who saw only risk in our venture. Finally, Kiran Jain volunteered to help establish Kiva as a nonprofit, seeing potential where others saw danger. These meetings taught us that while expert opinions matter, we alone had to make the final decision to move forward. We learned to separate helpful legal information from pessimism and eventually contacted the SEC directly, discovering that 0% interest loans would likely avoid security regulations-giving us the confidence to proceed.
Even before we had complete legal clarity, I began cold-calling bankers, economists, tech experts, and nonprofit leaders about our vision. With each conversation, I refined my pitch by observing responses. I learned to adapt my language for different audiences-explaining microfinance to tech experts using eBay analogies, comparing our model to child sponsorship programs when speaking with nonprofits, and using venture capital comparisons for investment professionals.
By spring 2005, after nearly a year of research and planning, Matt and I had hit a wall. I was consulting for nonprofits while Matt worked full-time at TiVo. We'd reached a point of diminishing returns on preparation and decided it was time to act. I returned to Uganda, working first as a guide for Village Enterprise and then for Project Baobab before recruiting entrepreneurs for Kiva. With my friend Moses Onyango, a connected local pastor, we visited potential borrowers including Nora Ruhindi, who needed $300 for her restaurant; Katherine the fishmonger, who needed $500; and five others needing small loans for their businesses.
At a dusty internet cafe with a painfully slow connection, we uploaded these seven entrepreneurs' photos and stories to our bare-bones website. Back home, we sent an email to friends and family about our experiment, unable to promise repayment but hoping they'd lend $25 to these entrepreneurs across the world. Then we held our breath and hit send.
Глава 6
Deciding Who You Will Be Through Clear Mission
In summer 1992, before starting high school, my dad and I sat in our parked car having one of our special talks about my upcoming move to a new neighborhood. The car was our special place for conversations, sitting side by side staring at the horizon. When I expressed nervousness about starting over, Dad quoted Rafiki from The Lion King: "Remember who you are!" before launching into business book wisdom.
My dad constantly shared insights from authors like Stephen Covey, Dale Carnegie, and Tony Robbins, applying their principles to my childhood challenges. Every summer, we'd choose a theme for the upcoming school year-"Keep Your Head" for eighth grade to help resist peer pressure, "Ask the Right Questions" during college application season. These were mission statement warmup exercises, teaching me to approach different seasons with intention.
This foundation helped me develop my career mission statement: to love others and inspire hope by championing the entrepreneurial spirit in all of us. When creating Kiva, crafting a clear mission became crucial. After weeks of work in summer 2005, we settled on: "to connect people through lending to alleviate poverty." This simple statement packed our purpose: the "what" (connecting people), the "how" (through loans rather than donations), and the "why" (poverty alleviation).
Sometimes an organization's toughest competition is another version of itself-the alternative path it could take with different priorities. A year and a half after Kiva's launch, we faced our first major temptation to drift from our mission when a corporate social responsibility director called offering $10 million. The catch? They wanted to dump the money into our system without actual lenders connecting with borrowers-contradicting our core mission of connecting people.
Despite the staggering amount (equal to everything we'd raised in Kiva's existence), I declined. Taking that money would have meant turning away up to 400,000 individual lenders who could each make $25 loans. We were already struggling to keep up with lender demand and running out of entrepreneurs on the site. The company representative was flabbergasted, but our mission was clear: connecting people through lending, not just moving money.
Like Katherine the banana seller who proudly proclaimed "I am the bananas!" and refused to sell other crops, saying no to opportunities that don't match your mission is actually saying yes to your core commitments. Your mission becomes your identity and guide, telling the world exactly who you are and who you are not. A strong mission statement, shared with the world and internalized by your team, allows you to make tough decisions that enable truly unique impact.
Глава 7
Walking Your Own Path Despite Pressure to Conform
In late spring 2005, just before Kiva's official launch, Matt and I were approached by two entrepreneurs also developing a microfinance venture. One founder had been behind a successful web startup with access to Silicon Valley's elite circles, while the other was well-connected in the nonprofit world and presented herself as someone who could make or break ideas.
We were flattered yet confused by their partnership invitation since they seemed to have everything going for them while we had barely started. Their proposal was intriguing-both ventures aimed to innovate in microfinance and empower everyday people to support entrepreneurs, with uncanny timing similarities.
Despite superficial similarities, our core values didn't align. They used business-focused language about "users" and "transactions," while we spoke of "people" and "relationships." Their vision was creating a securities marketplace for microfinance institutions; ours was enabling direct person-to-entrepreneur lending.
Out of fear, we initially partnered with them, sharing everything while they remained secretive. They gradually marginalized us, removing our names from presentations and even offering my role to someone else. When we finally broke away in August 2005, we felt liberated. Two months later, we launched Kiva independently-just us and our simple idea. Surprisingly, Kiva thrived while their venture eventually shut down in 2014.
Like Raj the rickshaw driver in Jaipur who found a unique route home by breaking away from traffic, entrepreneurs benefit from getting outside the group. This outsider perspective offers fresh vantage points for innovative solutions. People who were never "insiders" often create breakthrough ideas because they're unattached to established rules and precedents.
We all belong to communities with shared foundational beliefs that limit what we consider possible. Anomalies-unexpected experiences that challenge our assumptions-are more likely to occur when we immerse ourselves in unfamiliar situations where our lack of knowledge becomes an asset, allowing us to see with fresh eyes.
When we encounter these "aha" moments that challenge the status quo, it's easy to dismiss them as crazy. But sometimes these glimpses reveal new truths that could redefine what's possible. The path to innovation requires getting comfortable with uncharted territory and being willing to blaze trails others might eventually follow.
Глава 8
Finding Your Family of Supporters
Just as newborn babies need family support, startups require a dedicated community to thrive. Young ventures are vulnerable and need constant attention-sometimes in the middle of the night. While some entrepreneurs manage alone, having supporters dedicated to the venture's success makes the difference between surviving and thriving.
Kiva's earliest team members joined not for money, power, or prestige-we had none to offer-but because they believed in our vision and shared our values. Chelsa Bocci, Matt's childhood friend, was first to join after leaving finance and traveling the world. She worked night shifts to connect with potential microfinance institution partners across time zones, securing our first partnerships in Bulgaria, Nicaragua, Gaza, and Cambodia within three months.
Jeremy Frazao and Fiona Ramsey joined next, transforming our rudimentary website into a dynamic marketplace while handling customer service, accounting, and PR. Premal Shah, who had independently tried similar concepts at PayPal, brought valuable skills and brokered a partnership with PayPal to waive transaction fees-saving Kiva millions. Olana Khan transformed our group into a real organization with proper operations, while Ben Elberger and Michelle Kreger volunteered before becoming valued employees.
As organizations grow, they must find ways to engage supporters and create a sense of family. I learned this lesson while observing chickens in Uganda. The rooster would inspect food first before the other chickens would eat-not consuming it himself but inviting and protecting the flock. This taught me that the best way to ensure your team's well-being is to find strong leaders and let them lead.
When building Kiva, we embraced this principle by empowering natural leaders with tools, information, and real responsibility. We created a structure where anyone could form lending teams, competing to lend the most, with nearly 30,000 teams forming around various affiliations. Great leaders embody organizational values and attract others who share them, building community around what truly matters.
This principle applies beyond formal organizations. When CiCi Sayer needed a new boat for her whale-watching business, she attempted to raise $90,000 through crowdfunding but received only small contributions. Nearly ready to abandon her dream, she received an unexpected call from a friend who had spotted exactly the boat she needed advertised for just $18,000 in a laundromat. CiCi's story demonstrates how sharing your dreams with others can lead to unexpected solutions-sometimes the most valuable contributions aren't financial.
Глава 9
Receiving the Unexpected with Open Hands
When pursuing entrepreneurial dreams, being open to unexpected help can lead to surprising outcomes. During a Village Enterprise donor trip to Kenya in 2005, I met Bob and Dottie King, enthusiastic septuagenarians who engaged deeply with our program. While traveling together, I shared my plans for Kiva with Bob, who later became known for his philanthropy including a $150 million donation to Stanford.
Bob revealed that most fundraisers approached him solely for money, ignoring his expertise and experience. He advised me: "Don't treat people as a means to an end. Ask for money, get advice. But start by asking for advice and really involving that person, and you'll get so much more, often including their financial backing." This wisdom taught me to see donors as whole people with valuable insights beyond their checkbooks.
Nearly a year after Kiva's launch, we needed to raise operational funds to pay staff. Initially attempting to fundraise online confused users about our core lending model, so we removed donation options from the site. Instead, we relied on offline conversations with family, friends, and board members, receiving a few generous donations of $10,000 or more.
By our October 2006 board meeting, we had facilitated $500,000 in loans but had only $15,000 left for operations-just enough for one more month. As a last resort, we reinstated a donation option alongside loans, suggesting 10% of loan value. To our surprise, this approach worked well, creating a flywheel effect that attracted larger donors. Two weeks after our first anniversary, PBS's Frontline/World aired a special about us, causing lending volume to jump tenfold. Lenders saved Kiva by supporting us beyond what we expected, teaching us never to be afraid to show our needs and ask for help.
In summer 2007, I appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show alongside President Clinton. With only two weeks' notice, we frantically prepared-practicing answers, getting haircuts, buying new clothes, and even hiring a PR person for media training. Despite my racing heart, I managed to speak authentically about Kiva's impact. When the episode aired days later while I was in Swaziland, it drove so much traffic that our website crashed. Sympathetic viewers donated over $100,000 so we could buy bigger servers for the next time Oprah called.
Глава 10
Inventing, Iterating, and Repeating for Success
In 2007, I joined Stanford's "Design for Extreme Affordability" course, where multidisciplinary teams create radically low-cost products for the world's poorest. My team tackled water storage for Myanmar farmers, who often lost precious pumped water to ground absorption. Affordability was our primary constraint-a $50 solution lasting a decade was useless if farmers could only afford $5 products that needed replacement.
We found inspiration in a kiddie pool's design, creating water storage bags from waterproof tarps. Through countless iterations-sewing, taping, adjusting angles-we developed an affordable solution. Future student teams improved our design dramatically, creating the "InfiniCan" using origami-inspired folding techniques that eliminated leaky seams. When Cyclone Nargis devastated Myanmar in 2008, thousands of these $5 bags were rapidly manufactured, each providing clean water for up to 1,000 people daily.
There's a Swahili proverb: "Haba na haba, hujaza kibaba"-"Little by little, the pot gets filled." It's easy to dismiss small, persistent changes, but over time, these tiny improvements accumulate into significant progress. Iterative design builds something new through cycles of building, testing, evaluating, and fixing. Each version improves incrementally, sometimes dramatically.
Traditional product development often follows a different path: months of planning, extensive documentation, and polished launches with minimal customer feedback. This outdated approach frequently creates products people don't want. Smart entrepreneurs embrace constant, fast-paced iteration instead. Though messier and more vulnerable, this process leads to better solutions.
Every successful organization I've joined mastered iteration. Kiva's first website was bare-bones with just "About" and "Lend" sections, but we launched it anyway and improved daily based on feedback. Great products rarely emerge fully formed-they're built through trial and error, steps forward and backward, and constant refinement.
This approach mirrors the wisdom of Li, a Beijing seamstress whose approach to garment repair revealed profound lessons: assess the nature of fabric before working with it, examine garments from the inside out to understand their construction, tailor pieces to fit individual customers perfectly, and know when to start over by ripping seams and beginning again. Her willingness to undo and redo work when necessary was crucial to creating beautiful, well-fitted clothing.
Глава 11
Showing Truth Even When It Hurts
In spring 2007, amid Kiva's remarkable success-a surge in lending after a New York Times mention, reaching $10 million in loans, and an Oprah appearance-we faced our first major crisis. Shelby Clark, a Kiva fellow in Uganda, discovered that our partner organization WITEP was a complete fraud. The leaders, including Moses Onyango-someone I had considered a close friend and even our "co-founder in Africa"-had siphoned nearly $125,000 meant for borrowers.
The betrayal was devastating, especially since Moses had been like family to me. We faced a difficult decision about how to communicate this fraud to our lenders. Despite fears of backlash, we chose complete transparency, drafting an honest email explaining what happened and offering refunds.
The response shocked us-instead of anger, lenders expressed gratitude for our honesty. Most even re-loaned their refunded money. This experience taught us that transparency builds trust, even when revealing failures. Since then, Kiva has continued this practice, posting every fraud case publicly while strengthening its vetting processes. The organization learned that people don't expect perfection, but they demand honesty and are inspired by resilience.
Speaking at a Massachusetts boarding school, a freshman asked me the pointed question: "If Kiva is so great, why didn't you just stay there forever?" The truth was complicated. While professionally thriving, I was struggling personally. The intensity of startup life had taken a tremendous toll-lack of sleep, neglected relationships, and most challenging of all, being married to my co-founder Matt.
Work problems followed us home, home conflicts bled into work, and boundaries disappeared completely. When both partners are constantly stressed from startup life, neither has perspective. We faced impossible daily choices between commitment to the organization and commitment to our marriage. Eventually our relationship buckled, and I created distance by working from home. This unintentionally disconnected me from Kiva too. Rather than fight my way back in and harm the organization with continued conflict, I chose to leave-a double amputation that felt partly self-inflicted and partly beyond my control.
What began as painful loss ultimately became opportunity. The clean break allowed me to rebuild my identity, reclaim my sanity, and open space for new growth. So when Sophie asked why I left, I smiled and told her: "It was time to go find the next adventure." In the middle of painful transition, I chose to believe another adventure awaited on the other side.
Глава 12
Mastering the Art of Reinvention
After my separation from Matt and departure from Kiva, I followed a path somewhat like Elizabeth Gilbert's in "Eat Pray Love"-though mine was more "sleep, surf, write." I settled in a friend's Mexican beach house with books, journals, a surfboard, and yoga mat. After years of all-nighters and no reflection time, I prioritized healing. Physically, I grew stronger through surfing and hiking. Emotionally and spiritually, I experienced a rebirth, finding new peace and intimacy with God.
Professionally, I mourned what I'd given up-no job, no prospects, not even an updated resume. But I'd become crystal clear about my values and chose to rebuild around them. Then opportunity knocked: Stanford GSB Dean Garth Saloner offered me a position writing case studies on women entrepreneurs in developing markets, funded by Goldman Sachs's 10,000 Women initiative.
This chance to travel worldwide interviewing entrepreneurs was exactly what I needed. Over the next year, I met dozens of inspiring women-from Shona the wheelchair designer in South Africa to Zica the hair-salon mogul in Brazil. Despite their diverse backgrounds and industries, these women shared remarkable similarities: creativity, optimism, drive, and courage. None took no for an answer. Each had overcome seemingly impossible obstacles, embodying an entrepreneurial spirit that proved contagious.
On my last day at Stanford GSB, while carrying out a box of office supplies, I bumped into fellow alumna Dana Mauriello. When she asked about my plans, I explained it was my first day of "something else"-though I wasn't sure what. I knew only that I wanted to build tools for entrepreneurs, but this time focusing on the United States.
Dana shared my passion for empowering entrepreneurs, having been piloting her own venture. Our conversation continued for days as we repeatedly asked each other the same questions: Have you wanted to invest in a local small business you love? Have you wished to own stock in a friend's promising startup? Have you dreamed of crowdfunding your venture through friends, family, or even the general public?
At that time, such activities ranged from confusing and expensive to legally impossible. Securities laws severely restricted who could invest in private enterprises, particularly limiting participation by non-wealthy, "unaccredited" investors. Many entrepreneurs raised money illegally, off-the-books, through awkward conversations with friends and family that lacked clear expectations. Those seeking legal compliance faced expensive legal and accounting services.
A few months later, Dana and I created ProFounder to solve these problems. Our platform offered a legal compliance engine, pitch development tools, instant term sheet creation for equity or revenue sharing, and investor management capabilities. Though we faced significant regulatory challenges, we helped dozens of entrepreneurs fund diverse ventures from Uncle Clay's candy store in Honolulu to an electric motorcycle company in San Francisco.
Глава 13
The Summit Is Not Always the Goal
ProFounder grew steadily for over a year as we improved our software and learned more about our customers. Yet we gradually realized that while our technology offered the best solution available, legal restrictions prevented us from building the truly open, collaborative product we envisioned.
The Mount Everest disaster analysis gave me clarity about our situation. Those who survived knew their goal wasn't reaching the summit but returning safely. Similarly, ProFounder faced its own storms-regulatory scrutiny from California's Department of Corporations questioning our definitions and slowing our innovation, dwindling funds, and my impending motherhood with twins.
Despite continued press accolades and investor support, we couldn't control the regulatory environment or offer what customers truly needed. Dana and I chose to turn back rather than push ahead recklessly. We shut down operations but redirected our efforts toward supporting the JOBS Act legislation that would allow entrepreneurs to raise up to a million dollars from any investors. Dana testified before Congress while I spoke with reporters and at events about crowdfunding's promise.
On April 5, 2012, I sat in the White House Rose Garden as President Obama signed the JOBS Act into law, just weeks after ProFounder closed and I had given birth to twin boys. Though our investors didn't receive financial returns, ProFounder's technology and expertise lived on through their organizations, and we helped start a crucial conversation about investment-based crowdfunding. Sometimes the wisest choice is knowing when to turn back from the summit.
This lesson applies to all entrepreneurial journeys. Success isn't always about reaching the original goal-sometimes it's about recognizing when to pivot, when to persevere, and when to walk away entirely. The true measure of entrepreneurial wisdom may be knowing the difference between obstacles to overcome and signals to change course.
Глава 14
Hope Is the Road We Walk Together
While I admire Fatuma, the Tanzanian charcoal seller who buried her earnings beneath her mattress, her story serves as a sobering reminder that success without growth is incomplete. My definition of poverty has evolved beyond material lack to include the belief that we cannot or should not use what we have to grow. True wealth means recognizing our capabilities and investing our resources-especially our most precious resource, time-in what matters most.
My husband Reza explains career advancement using what we call "the escalator principle." Moving forward in life is like walking up a down escalator-maintaining a steady pace merely keeps you in place. To make meaningful progress, you must take big jumps, clearing several steps at once. His most significant life moments came from his biggest risks-relocating, changing jobs, starting ventures, taking student loans for multiple degrees, accepting opportunities he didn't feel ready for. Not all bets paid off, but many did, propelling him beyond his own expectations.
The same has proven true in my life. My scariest decisions-moving across country without a plan, quitting Stanford to work in East Africa, leaving Kiva, challenging funding norms with ProFounder-yielded my greatest rewards. Each risk makes the next leap easier. Growth always requires leaving something behind. Eventually, pursuing dreams requires trading smaller, safer bets for larger, uncertain chances at greater goals.
Our future is collaborative and shared-we can either limit each other or believe in our collective potential. By sharing our stories, we remind ourselves of our capacity for greatness. What matters most is believing in our own potential to live entrepreneurially-courageously pursuing opportunity where others see none and creating positive change.
Lin Yutang wrote, "Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence." We must honor and support each other on these journeys, expecting great things and insisting on hope. Choose to see potential, opportunity and strength rather than lack or brokenness.
The entrepreneurs in this book-Patrick, Constance, Shona, Samuel, Fatuma, Zica, Leila and others-inspire me daily. They refused to be held back by what they lacked or couldn't control, focusing instead on taking action despite barriers. They understood that entrepreneurship is "the pursuit of opportunity without regard to resources currently controlled."
Knowing these entrepreneurs has convinced me that I too can live entrepreneurially, choosing action over paralysis. This path requires constant reinterpretation and reinvention as ventures and life seasons change. Though not easy, it's the path to reaching our fullest potential. The world needs each of us to choose this courageous path, to bet on ourselves, and to create the future we're dreaming of.