According to friends and family and a few people at work, Alexis made “the best chili in the entire world.” They begged him to make it and to bring it to parties and potlucks. Every time he did, they exclaimed, “This is so good! You should open a food truck! You’d make millions.”
For his part, Alexis never dreamed about owning a food truck—or a restaurant or anything else in the food business. He was a maintenance manager for a hospital. Had been for 17 years. He had nothing to do with food service. But every time he made the chili, he heard the same thing: “We can totally see you doing it.” There was just one problem: Alexis didn’t. Eventually he started wondering if he should . . .
Owning a food truck didn’t seem like much fun when Alexis thought about it. He didn’t even eat at them much, preferring to bring his lunch to work to save money. Some quick searches on Google indicated the business was tough—as tough as the restaurant business, which has a very high failure rate. But food trucks were making up a growing scene around Nairobi. When he took his lunch outside, he always saw lines at the half dozen or so that parked on the street near the hospital. He watched the people working the trucks and he talked to the owners. They all loved what they were doing.
Alexis didn’t think he would love it, but how could so many people he loved be wrong? He started seeing dollar signs and pushed himself to make it happen. After the kids were asleep, he worked on the truck. He invested his savings. He created a business plan, but the bank didn’t see his vision, and he got turned down for a small business loan.
Instead, he borrowed some funds from his parents and a few of those friends who had been begging him on. When he needed more time to make it work, he chalked up his lack of progress to his day job, and he quit to devote himself full-time. He took classes on food safety and prep to get his license.
After one of the owners of another food truck around town invited him to work a shift with her, Alexis accepted, and the next day, he brought her some of his chili. “It’s delicious,” she said, and then she noted how unhappy he looked all day. “Did you have fun yesterday?”
Alexis nodded his head yes, but he knew he didn’t mean it, and she didn’t buy it either. To her, Alexis just seemed stressed and angry. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.
“I will . . . eventually,” Alexis said.
He wanted to believe that—wanted to believe he would eventually want to do this and be able to have the vision of himself in his truck, serving chili to long lines, having fun. Other people saw that for him, but he doubted more and more every day that he ever would. A few weeks later, still stressed and now angry all the time, Alexis was broke. He sold the truck, paid back what he could, and thankfully was able to get a job doing the work he loved: maintenance.
What happened? Why did Alexis fail to execute on his vision and succeed—or even see the vision come to life? Because he never wanted to open a food truck. Making chili for friends and family that made them happy was what he liked to do. He could be on his feet all day chopping, stirring, and cleaning to serve chili to everyone he loved, but he had no desire to do those things to serve strangers. The food truck was their vision for him.
In 2026 you will get many people telling you what you should do and what you shouldn’t. If you choose to do it, it better be your vision or lest you will be wasting time.
