As a teenager, Joel was selling a product for young women, a facial creme made from local materials like coconut oil, fresh aloe vera gel, perfume extracted from a local flower, etc. The formula was a closely guarded secret, concocted by his mother, who was a chemist and cosmetologist.

At first, his mother sold the crème in small plastic bottles that she bought from a junk shop. She sold it to nearby sari-sari stores and to customers by word of mouth. When she noticed her crème was selling like hotcakes, she moved out of the garage and built a separate makeshift structure on the same lot.

Joel’s mother asked him to handle marketing and sales. He designed a cheap but elegant soft squeezable plastic bottle that he ordered in bulk from a local producer. He designed a logo and used the brand name “Alovero,” named after his mother Veronica.

Joel went from mall to mall, selling his product to cosmetic and beauty stalls. Within a year, his backyard operation expanded into an abandoned warehouse in Antipolo. He hired an engineer to design and install a mass-production machine. He was all set to go big time.

Within 10 years, Joel had a bigger second factory also in Antipolo. He had a team of sales people to cover the entire Metro Manila. His son put up an outlet in San Diego, California. It was a big success with Filipino buyers.

By the time I met Joel, he was an overnight millionaire. We had a common goal of writing inspirational articles. He employed me as part-time writer of books we co-authored. We would go out to lunch in one of his six luxury cars. He was obsessed with cars.

Joel — (Gloating) I am the top entrepreneur in my La Salle graduating class.

Me — But you can do better if you just had two cars instead of six and put up a foundation for the poor.

Joel — (In an angry tone) Don’t tell me what to do with my hard-earned money. I have a right to spend it the way I want.

I was silent. I refrained from the looming debate and conflict. Later, the issue popped up again.

Joel — My success as an entrepreneur is based on my net worth.

Me — (Taking a risk by throwing my punch line) What is your norm for success, Joel?

Joel — (Agitated) My classmates who boast of their success are far behind me in terms of net worth.

Me — What is your norm for success, Joel? Many times, we talked about changing the world, touching other people for the Lord. Our norm for success is spiritual, not material.

Joel — (Exploding in anger) You can pack up and leave.

I stood up and left. Joel called me up the next day and apologized.

Joel — Sorry. I just have so much stress these days when we are trying to put up a third factory.

Me — What for? You are so addicted to the material world, it hinders you from your spiritual mission of helping others. We resolved to change the world. That was our mission, not to get rich, remember? Do you really need to make more money? At our age, why don’t we spend our time on spiritual rather than material concerns?

Joel — (Resigned to my being feisty) It is easy for you to say that because you have nothing. You are just an employee with a hand-to-mouth salary.

Me — I’m lucky then.

Joel immersed himself in building the third factory. I failed to convince him to shift to the things of the heart away from the things of the pocket. He contracted cancer of the colon. He ignored doctors prescribing radiation while it was still early. Within a year, he contracted cancer of the prostate. His doctors prescribed massive radiation, but it was too late. The cancer was extremely aggressive. He had a hemorrhage of the intestine, which could not be controlled.

He died rich and his empire was inherited by two spoiled daughters who squandered it quickly within a year. He would have been more of a success had he opted to be poorer. He never knew the true meaning of success.

eastwindreplyctr@gmail.com