I am on many different “guru’s” mailing lists, but I am almost always blow away by the content Perry Marshall writes to his list. I copied and pasted it below so you can see what im talking about.

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Some time ago my travels took me to the red soil of Nairobi, Kenya. A gracious schoolteacher named George ran a foster care program for AIDS orphans. He took me on a tour of his world.

How incredibly different it was from mine.

Someone had given George a Toyota station wagon, so we didn’t have to walk. He drove me through twisting back-county roads of Kukoyu, dodging potholes the size of bathtubs and showing me how the other half lives.

We would pass bands of children walking along that road and women balancing jugs on their heads. I met all kinds of kids without moms and dads, mostly living with relatives and hopefully holding body and soul together.

I met one kid whose most recent home was a rock quarry.

We visited a wooden hut where a girl, maybe 9 years old, was playing in the dirt in her filthy pink dress. She was mentally handicapped and there was no one else around. George spoke kindly to her in her native language. He gave her something to eat. Eventually, we left.

As we drove away, I thought, “I’d never leave MY kid here. . .”

I met a 7 year old boy who was dying of AIDS for lack of a $1 bus ticket to get a free shot.

It was gut wrenching. All these people staring at me with that blank gaze of poverty and apathy. Paralyzed by a belief that there’s nothing they can do to make their life better.

I asked George if he ever helped any of these people start businesses. “Yes!” he nodded excitedly. “I will show you some of our micro loan recipients.”

George drives me to another village. We walk into a cobbler shop. A guy named Paul is fixing shoes. Paul had polio when he was a kid so he can’t walk. His crutches are leaning against the wall behind him.

Paul does NOT have that blank hopeless stare. His eyes are clear. He’s alert and he’s aware. He’s proud of what he does. His kids have uniforms, they attend school, they are well fed. He’s a respected man in the community.

His legs might not work right, but he’s not a cripple.

George explains to me that with a $50 business loan, Paul founded that cobbler shop and became an economic pillar of his community.

By American standards Paul is poor, but he’s not living in poverty. Paul doesn’t speak the same tongue as me yet when our eyes lock we both sense that we share a common language: The language of entrepreneurship. He’s proud of what he’s accomplished and he’s not asking for handouts.

My friend, there is one and only one path out of poverty. It ain’t UNICEF. Or the United Nations. It’s not even jobs or technology.

It’s entrepreneurship. It’s brave people like Paul.

NOW:

Imagine for a moment that someone had taken Paul’s $50 and sold him a sham “business opportunity.” Big bag o’ smoke. Hit & run. Ain’t worth the paper it’s printed on.

How much would that scam have cost Paul . . . really?

For one thing he’d be a cripple living in a rock quarry today. Begging on the side of the street. Not a successful entrepreneur. Not a guy with a house and a kitchen and 3 beautiful kids.

His 3 kids would be living with who-knows-who, or maybe no one. Paul’s cobbler shop wouldn’t be there in the middle of his village. People wouldn’t be getting their shoes fixed. A certain school would be minus 3 students. A seamstress would have sold them three less school uniforms. The vendors who sell him soles and nails and leather would have one less account.

His kids might be stealing food instead of buying it.

Do you see how these little tiny hinges swing big doors?

That’s why it really frosts my cookie when snake oil salesmen and film flam men sell bad business advice. They’re teaching people s*** that don’t work.

Doesn’t matter whether it’s Africa or America or Antarctica, it’s still a crime. I hope them scammers end up living in a rock quarry. They sure don’t deserve to be making megabucks, that’s for sure.

I got fleeced real good for the first few years of my business career. You probably know that story and if you don’t I won’t bore you with it. But anyway, I’m one of those people who believes things happen for a reason. Maybe one of the reasons that happened to me was . . . so I’d know what it’s like.

Cuz God forbid that I ever sell people big bags o’ smoke. Or that you should ever spend your money one of those bags o’ smoke.

I believe that when someone teaches how to fish, they should teach you with real boats and real fishing poles and real ponds. Not with a flight simulator. They should be able to prove what they do works. In real market conditions with real tools and real customers. Not shills.

Every time someone sells fake business advice, the world loses a few entrepreneurs. People who might have made it, but they couldn’t recover from that one loss.

Who knows… what might have been?

Every time someone delivers *real* business advice, the world gains a few entrepreneurs. More “Pauls”. More cobbler shops. More kids going to school. More food to go around. More for everyone.

I take my job – and your job – very seriously. What we both do matters. A lot.

If you have any kind of “real” business on the Internet; if you know that more clicks for less money, better sales conversion, improved follow up and a superior marketing strategy would put more money in your pocket; then I invite you to apply for this fall’s personal AdWords coaching session.

Not all are accepted, but if we let you in, I back it with a hugely ballsy guarantee and a promise that if you put in the effort, you’ll get the results. www.BobsledRun.com. Starts September 28.

Whether you live in Africa, Europe or America – whether you only learn, or if you teach as well – I hope you take your teaching, and your learning, very seriously. Because a very very important entrepreneur depends on the knowledge you apply:

YOU.

Perry Marshall

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