Money Extorted by Thugs

I had been working for only three weeks when a stranger pointed a knife at me on a street in Jakarta.

It was April 1990. I had just graduated and started my first job as a consultant with a prominent technology consulting firm. I was sent to Jakarta to work on a project for a bank.

It was my first overseas assignment.

Growing up in Singapore, I had always felt safe. I suppose I assumed the rest of the world was just as safe. I was young, inexperienced, and perhaps a little naive.

One evening, I decided to walk to a nearby shopping mall for dinner. It was only about 800 metres away, so I thought nothing of going alone.

Dinner went smoothly.

The walk back was another matter.

I was walking beside a busy road, with vehicles crawling through bumper-to-bumper traffic, when a stranger approached me.

He pulled out a small knife, about ten centimetres long, and pointed it at me.

I froze.

There I was, a young Singaporean in a foreign country, facing a robber armed with a knife. All the traffic and activity around me suddenly seemed irrelevant.

The man demanded my belongings.

I was frightened, but somehow I managed to think clearly enough to make a request.

"Please keep the money, but can you give me back my wallet? The cards and other things inside are of no use to you."

I had no idea how he would react.

To my enormous relief, he agreed.

I lost about S$150, but I got my wallet back. More importantly, I was unharmed.

When I finally returned to our office apartment, I must have looked terrible.

My project director, Mr. CYC, was sitting at his desk, working on project documents. He was also a partner at the firm, a senior man with considerable responsibilities.

He looked up, saw my pale face, and stopped what he was doing.

"What happened?"

I told him everything.

The walk to the mall. The stranger. The knife. The money.

He listened carefully and made sure I was not injured.

Then he asked me a question.

"How much money did you lose?"

"About $150," I replied.

That was a substantial amount to me. I was a fresh graduate, only three weeks into my first job, and had not even received my first salary.

Mr. CYC thought for a moment.

"Just claim it back when you submit your next time report."

I was stunned.

I had expected sympathy, perhaps some advice about being more careful in future. I certainly had not expected the company to reimburse me for money stolen by a robber.

I thanked him and went to my room.

That night, I struggled to sleep. The incident kept replaying in my mind.

A few weeks later, month-end arrived.

It was time to submit my time report.

As I filled in the form, I came across a problem.

What exactly should I write as the description for the money I had lost?

There were the usual expense categories, but none seemed appropriate for being robbed at knifepoint.

Finally, I decided to ask Mr. CYC.

I walked into his office, holding the form.

"Sir, what description should I use for this?"

He paused.

For a moment, he seemed unsure himself. He scratched his head and thought about it.

Then a smile appeared on his face.

"Money extorted by thugs."

We both burst out laughing.

After everything I had been through, those four words were exactly what I needed.

I submitted the report, and the company eventually reimbursed the full S$150.

Only later did I fully appreciate how unusual that was.

There was no company policy allowing employees to claim money lost to street robberies. Mr. CYC had made the decision himself.

He could easily have told me that the loss was my personal responsibility. After all, I had chosen to walk alone to the mall.

Instead, he saw a young employee who had experienced something frightening in an unfamiliar country, and he decided to help.

He did not lecture me about my carelessness. He listened, checked that I was safe, and quietly took care of the problem.

And when the time was right, he helped me laugh about it.

That was one of my earliest lessons about leadership.

Over the years, I have worked with different people and encountered many kinds of bosses. Yet I have never forgotten Mr. CYC.

He taught me something that no management textbook could have taught me quite so effectively.

People remember how you treat them when they are vulnerable.

More than three decades have passed since that evening in Jakarta. I have forgotten many things about my first job.

But I still remember the knife, the S$150, and those four unforgettable words.

And if Mr. CYC were to appear before me today and say, "Jump," I know exactly what I would say.

"How high?"

Told by: Tango Charlie
Written by: Sam Choo
Story Tags: Robbery, Leadership, Kindness

Tango Charlie began his career as a technology consultant and believes that the most enduring lessons about leadership often come from simple acts of kindness.