In Business for Myself, But Not by Myself
What MLMs, franchises, and forty years of borrowing other people's business models taught me about entrepreneurship.
I browsed through the catalogue, captivated by the variety of unusual jewellery: brooches, necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings. The copy promised 24-karat gold plating and nickel-free materials. That last detail mattered as I had recently discovered that standard costume jewellery left my skin irritated and itchy, and nickel was the culprit.
Reaching the back page, I noticed a blank box where the local representative’s contact details were meant to be stamped. It read “Please contact……” but the space was empty. I took the catalogue home anyway. Tucked inside was an email address for head office alongside a brief origin story and a description of the collection. I wrote to them directly, explaining that I’d found a blank brochure and asking how I could order a few pieces. I sent the message and promptly forgot about it.
A few weeks later, a large parcel arrived in the mail containing fresh catalogues and an independent agreement outlining a broader opportunity. An email followed, confirming that a field contact would reach out shortly.
And that was how I became an independent consultant for Charmelle.
Founded in San Francisco in 1995 as a European-influenced fashion jewellery brand. Charmelle marketed costume jewellery and accessories finished in gold, silver, or rhodium, alongside pieces featuring sterling silver and semi-precious stones. Products were sold through catalogues, custom orders, consultant websites, and home parties. Consultants bought inventory at wholesale and kept the retail margin.
This was my first introduction to multi-level marketing (MLM). Living in Mombasa, raising my young children in a joint-extended family and working at a local travel company, Charmelle became my part-time hustle. I sponsored a couple of friends in Mombasa as my downline, earning commissions on their volume. I even managed to secure display space in the shop windows of the well-established Tamarind Restaurant & Casino.
It was also my first glimpse into how networks and geography alter a model. A downline consultant could outperform you - not necessarily because they were better at sales, but because they had access to different circles, travelled more frequently, or could hand-carry deliveries internationally to places like the UK. The simplistic MLM promise, ‘work harder, recruit more, earn more’, was far more complex in practice.
When I relocated to Canada, finding initial employment proved challenging. A neighbour introduced me to Mary Kay. Familiar with direct sales, I paid the starter fee and attended the weekly training meetings. But as with most direct-sales operations, timing and existing local networks were everything. Senior directors paraded top-performer incentives, like corporate Cadillacs and luxury trips to motivate us. Yet the structural reality remained: early entrants and top directors built steady overrides on total network sales, while newcomers struggled to generate momentum from single retail transactions.
Shortly after, I took an entry-level job, only to be unexpectedly let go after making a quick mid-afternoon call home to check on my children. That moment was a catalyst. I decided I no longer wanted my livelihood held in someone else’s hands. I wanted to work for myself.
That shift led me to explore franchises. The classic franchise pitch, “In business for yourself, but not by yourself”, sounded practical, structured, and achievable.
Naturally, I started by researching top-tier brands: Starbucks, Tim Hortons, Swiss Chalet, A&W. I quickly discovered the immediate barrier: capital requirements that I did not have, nor could I easily raise that massive level of liquid funding.
The turning point came through a personal need. When my son needed extra academic support, I began looking into after-school programs and remembered Kumon. He had attended Kumon when we lived in Mombasa, but I hadn't realized the organization operated as a franchise model. True to form, I submitted an online inquiry and carried on with my week.
A few weeks later, a franchise recruitment personal from their head office called me.
Setting up a business independently in a new country; navigating commercial leases, corporate regulations, and construction costs felt daunting. A franchise model offered a proven framework. While purchasing an existing centre required securing a bank loan and initial capital, the operational structure was already built. The company provided the curriculum, brand guidelines, and marketing material at the click of a button, supported by field managers and regular training.
During my two decades as a Kumon instructor, I continued to observe and experiment with other business formats. I looked briefly into Arbonne, spent time with Avon, and eventually invested in a Crock A Doodle pottery franchise to supplement my income as my three growing boys entered active sports with growing appetites and increasing costs of running a household.
Operating Crock A Doodle highlighted how critical location and venue permissions are to a system’s viability. Initially hosted out of a church facility, alongside Kumon, I was restricted from putting up outdoor signage or promotional materials. Before relocating Kumon to a commercial site, I hosted a student recognition event where students painted their own ceramic trophies and medals. While the event itself was a success, the post-event logistics including glazing, firing, packing, and redistributing hundreds of custom pieces demanded immense manual labour.
Meanwhile after relocating to a commercial site, my primary Kumon centre was rapidly growing. With finite hours in the day, I had to choose where to focus. Kumon was the core business, so the pottery operation was set aside.
Eventually, a brief window opened to acquire a second Kumon territory. I expanded into Ottawa’s Glebe neighbourhood on Bank Street, running two locations simultaneously.
Reflecting on these experiences, a common thread emerges; entrepreneurship is often mischaracterized as a purity test. There is a persistent myth that "real" entrepreneurship requires building everything from scratch …. a founder starting in a garage with two dollars and a laptop.
In reality, starting entirely from scratch consumes immense amounts of entrepreneurial fuel - what I call rocket fuel - before a single customer is ever served. Branding, product development, supply chains, legal frameworks, accounting systems, compliance, HR, risk management and customer service processes all require significant effort and capital just to reach the launchpad.
Borrowing an established system allows you to conserve that fuel for execution, client acquisition and service delivery all while using your inherent strengths and skills.
When I first became a Kumon instructor, I felt that I had joined something larger than my own centre. The Christmas gifts, celebratory lunches and conferences were enjoyable, yes, but they also told us that the company noticed the people doing the work. I listened to experienced instructors speak about their growth, exciting year-end bonuses, rewarding trips and could only imagine where I might go. Years later, some of those gestures had disappeared, while the demands of running the centres had grown. A Christmas lunch that once felt like a celebration now felt like another training session. I was still responsible for the children’s learning, but also for staffing, marketing, accounts, parents and all the small decisions that followed me home and kept me up all night. I had valued the support the franchise gave me, which made it harder to admit that the balance had changed for me. Eventually I had to ask whether I could keep meeting those demands without giving up too much of myself or the attention I wanted to bring to the students.
The franchise landscape had long evolved but along with it so had I. Recognizing when a model no longer matches your personal goals is as important as knowing when to enter it.
Looking back, I can see that no two models asked the same thing of me. Every model I touched provided a distinct lesson:
Charmelle showed me what an existing product line could make possible, but also how much a person’s network and geography could affect the outcome. It was my first introduction to direct sales or MLM.
Mary Kay made me more aware of timing, market saturation and how territory dynamics can affect individual outcomes especially when starting over in a new country
Kumon taught me operations, scale and the value of aligning with a recession-proof, mission-driven curriculum, while showing me the limits of the sole-operator bandwidth. Even as it gave me a curriculum and structure I believed in, it then asked me to grow into a multi-faceted person who could manage multiple demanding roles as a single person.
Crock A Doodle proved that even a complete franchise system cannot override poor location decisions or when an appealing business on paper can become a very different business when you are the one glazing trophies after everyone else has gone home.
The common lesson is less tidy than a list of successes and failures: I had to learn what each model offered, what it demanded and more importantly, whether I still wanted the life that came with it or become the person each model was forcing unto me.
Similarly, building my writing platform, Sanjit K Ink, offers the experience of creating a machine from the ground up: developing content structure, brand identity, and distribution channels without a pre-built template. I’m choosing to learn in real-time as I work with AI systems, that also serve as my back up support.
Today, as an independent travel advisor with Fora Travel, the contrast is clear. Unlike traditional storefront franchises or legacy MLMs, there is no physical real estate, no inventory stocking, and no large staff overhead. The core infrastructure; booking systems, supplier credentials, invoicing tools, marketing assets, and compliance framework are already in place. My focus shifts entirely to domain expertise, client relationships and curation.
I get to keep my originality, my skill sets and my strengths, while focusing on the opportunities in front of me without getting consumed by the back-end systems required to keep a business running.
Here the phrase “In business for myself, but not by myself” takes on an entirely new meaning. I am still discovering what Fora Tavel will ask of me, and I look forward to seeing how these frameworks and support systems can operate in the digital era of today.
Having worked across multiple approaches, the central question of entrepreneurship changes. It is not "Did I invent every piece of this infrastructure?"
It is "Did I recognize an opportunity, leverage the right tools and deliver real value?"
The right partnership is the original alchemy, in business, as in life.
