Kamran Siddiqui considered careers in the Air Force and the Merchant Navy before settling for a career in banking. The GM of Visa International (CEMEA) explains to Shalaka Paradkar why credit cards can actually be a good thing.
Most people have a love-hate relationship with their credit cards. It makes instant gratification simpler and debt more intractable ... if you aren't careful. But did you know that credit cards, or more specifically, electronic payment systems can be paragons of virtue as well? Read on to find out how to feel righteous when you max your card at the mall.
Using credit cards increases transparency in dealings, strengthens economies by creating jobs and stimulates spending. Now, spending may be good for a country, but bad for an individual.
So Visa is helping people to manage their finances, understand the benefits and responsibilities that come with owning a debit, credit or prepaid card.
They are developing financial literacy programmes in countries such as Mexico, Indonesia, Brazil, China and now the UAE, so people can learn how to spend wisely.
"The most powerful financial tool today is not a product - it's knowledge," says Kamran Siddiqui, general manager, Visa International CEMEA (Central Europe, Middle East and Africa), based in the Middle East, when asked if credit card companies are to be blamed for people falling deeper into the debt trap.
An hour spent with him is an eye-opening view into the world of electronic payments. Siddiqui is responsible for Visa's business in the Middle East region, one of their fastest-growing and most innovative markets. This former banker joined the world's largest electronic payments company in 2003.
His fiscal advice: "Use the security and convenience of electronic payment whenever you can. The monthly statements are not to be dreaded, but are useful ways to track spending and take corrective actions if needed."
Having braved many a crisis, big and small, including the 1971 war in Bangladesh which destroyed his home, and the 1997 Asian economic crisis that made his profitable division a dud, the 51-year-old is remarkably sanguine about the future. Whenever he gets the time, he takes off on his Harley-Davidson, or plays the guitar or listens to Buddha Bar.
He continues to be an active tennis player, an eager golfer, and a doting father to his two sons.
A strong proponent of diversity and multiculturalism, Siddiqui has a passion for genealogy, probably stemming from the fact that his gene pool includes Tajiks, Pathans, Arabs and Sufi mystics. And, yes, he uses his credit card for almost every necessity in life.
I
I have always believed a career is about life stages. It's not the pursuit of a career for its own sake. At one stage in my life, I needed a certain amount of international exposure to broaden my own capabilities and experiences.
At another stage in my life, I wanted to give my children opportunities and alternatives in case they wanted to live and work in Australia. Now that my parents are not getting any younger, I wanted to be closer to them.
I was brought up to have an open mind and not view my own culture as superior. My children have been brought up to be world citizens. When they enter a foreign environment, they assimilate. It's not about losing one's identity.
I think the whole purpose of life has to be retaining the wonder and magic of being a seven-year-old. A child does not worry about yesterday or tomorrow.
I believe the two pillars of parenting are "give them roots and give them wings". I will not tell my children where to fly, but I will ensure their wings are strong enough to take them there.
The roots are important, not for geographical affiliation, but to understand what the land of their origin and its culture stood for.
I am a firm believer that diversity is a sign of divine genius. How boring would life be with the same kind of people and same kind of food. We have grown intellectually and culturally because of travelling to different countries.
For my children, the limitation has been that they are not quite sure where home is. That is a challenge, as there should be a place you can call home. I have tried to be the epitome of home for them. But yes, there is a gap, and I am aware of that.
ME
Me and my family
I am writing a book these days for my children about our family. I can trace my origins to the 7th century AD. My grandparents from both sides came from Khurja, a small town close to Aligarh in Uttar Pradesh, a north Indian state.
My mother's side of the family were Afghan Pathans. My father's side of the family originally came from Tajikistan in Central Asia. One of my ancestors was a Sufi mystic. My paternal grandmother came from Saudi Arabia. My mother's grandfather was a Persian and Arabic scholar.
I was born in the small town of Aligarh, some 80 miles from Delhi, in my maternal grandfather's home. My grandfather, Professor Rashid Ahmad Siddiqi, was a well-known writer and academic at the Aligarh Muslim University.
Having spent most of my life working to make a career, the preservation and continuation of his legacy increasingly occupies my thinking about my own future plans.
I have a sister, who is a year older, and a brother, who is six years younger, than I. My father worked for Lord Inchcape's group of companies, and he was posted to East Bengal, now Bangladesh. After a few years spent in Chittagong, we lived in Dhaka until 1971 when we were forced to leave on account of the war.
The Bangladesh of my childhood was a wonderful place. The people were extremely friendly and highly cultured. Their heroes were great poets, not warriors or invaders. Most of my childhood was spent in Dhaka. There are many things I remember from the time I was 3 to 14.
Me and leaving Bangladesh
I was very distressed about a few things. My upbringing had made me believe strongly in doing the right thing. Our experience in Bangladesh showed us that though there were depths to which a human being can sink, there was enough goodness and greatness present as well.
I identified myself as a Bengali and could not understand why so much pain had been inflicted on these people. I felt a deep sense of betrayal.
We had to go and live in Pakistan, a place where we had no friends. My sister and I were sent off to boarding school. Life changed in quite a dramatic fashion. It showed me how even one second can change your life forever.
I was not angry but accepted the reality of the situation. I always had wanted to get away. To me the purpose of life was to have a constant adventure. I was pretty much a rebellious teen, who had done his share of mischief.
At boarding school I lost my rebelliousness, but not my sense of adventure. At 19, I returned to Karachi after completing my schooling.
Me and choosing a career
When it was time to decide on a career, I figured it had to be one based on adventure. I decided to be a fighter pilot in the Air Force. However a minor medical problem disqualified me from pursuing that profession.
I reflected on the life of my favourite author, Joseph Conrad. He had been a Polish seaman who taught himself English and wrote moving books. His writings on the adventures of the sea made me decide to join the Merchant Navy. I enrolled at the marine academy in Karachi.
A hazing incident in the marine academy resulted in a serious knee injury. I had to undergo an operation and was forced to be in hospital for the first time in my life.
The time in hospital gave me time to think about my future. I concluded that a life on the sea was not for me - for a very simple, if unusual, reason. I wouldn't get to play tennis.
The sport was a big part of my life, since I spent close to eight hours a day playing tennis. I ruled out joining the Merchant Navy and looked at other career options.
I spoke to a few people who advised me to join a foreign bank. It was a career that would pay well and had foreign postings. I did my bachelors in commerce in Pakistan and went to the Asian Institute of Management in Manila to do an MBA.
Going to Manila was yet another adventure for me. It was a great place for a 23-year-old. I graduated in 1981 and returned to Pakistan to join Citibank in the corporate banking sector as an account manager.
It was a coveted job. From 1982-91, I was in corporate banking. Somewhere along the way, I realised that deal-making didn't drive me.
Just before I turned 30, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't doing anything worthwhile with my life. If my grandchildren asked me what I did, I wanted to be able to give them a more concrete answer than "deal-making''.
Luckily, at the same time, in the 1990s, the bank decided to designate Pakistan as a consumer banking country. I found this a worthwhile opportunity as I felt here was a business waiting to be built, an industry to be created that would benefit people.
Till then, there were no credit cards in Pakistan. I saw the benefits that banks can provide to people through these products. I moved from corporate banking to retail banking, as head of credit for Pakistan.
Me and retail banking
It was an exciting thing to do because we were building from scratch. There was nobody we could copy from. Not many people get an opportunity in their career to invent an industry in their country. That experience has stood me in great stead.
You are operating with an acute shortage of information, you have to think strategically about where the business will head and then you have to know all the nuts and bolts that need to be in place. I was there for four years.
Then I moved to Thailand, which was my first real posting outside Pakistan. I discovered how important culture is at the workplace. I had always worked for an American bank in my own backyard. In Thailand I learned to manage sensitivities for the first time.
The Thai culture is very powerful and very different from the aggressive New York banking culture I was used to. It was an important and interesting learning experience. I also learned that the similarities between cultures far outweigh the differences.
Human beings are the same everywhere - with the same needs, aspirations and ambitions. After this, I moved to the regional head office of Citibank in Singapore in early 1998.
We were a centralised team, working with the other country outfits. We worked with card companies, possible alliances and banks that we could take over.
In February 2000, I moved to Australia.
Myself
Have your experiences in all these countries been positive on the whole? How did all the travelling impact on your family dynamics?
Yes, our constant relocations have been difficult for my family. The reason I joined Citibank stemmed from a need for adventure. I wanted to go overseas (from Pakistan) because ... I wanted to give my children more options in life.
That first move to Thailand was vitally important, because to have a career in international banking you have to have overseas exposure. It's where your (perspectives of) language barriers, cultural sensitivities ... are tested.
Your real test as a professional is when you can perform well not in your own country but in another country as well. The good part is that my children have benefited from having a much wider perspective of the world. What that leads to is acceptance and openness.
What was the most unforgettable learning experience of your life?
In 1997, the Thai baht, which was linked to the US dollar, was free floated. It precipitated a major crisis throughout Asia. Our credit card business, which was a hugely profitable one, became a loss-making enterprise almost overnight.
We were scrambling to contain the losses and salvage the situation. It was a major economic setback. From that experience, we learned how to deal with things when the bottom falls out of not just a market, but an entire economy.
A complete crash of the economy affects every person, and I learned how to deal with it. It's the kind of learning experience that is good if it happens once in your life, but you never want it to repeat itself. Ever.
