In the kingdom of cloth, the late Jimmy Aboud reigned supreme. This year marked the 65th anniversary of Aboud's textile business. He survived dangerous dips in the economy and political coup attempts. He thrived in a volatile business that unraveled some of his most fierce competitors. Jimmy Aboud the Textile King persevered to become one of the leading entrepreneurs in the Caribbean.
Some time after his 60th anniversary in business, Aboud spoke about his life in the textile business, but he was hesitant to make the story public.
"I don't think it's the right time yet," he kept telling me.
I carefully guarded this story given to me by Aboud in his office at his store, so it was never published until now.
Jimmy Aboud started off like many Syrian businessmen. In 1942, he packed his suitcase full of cloth and sundry items, paid his ten-cent fare, and at 6.30 am, travelled east by train with his father through the countryside to sell in the barracks of the sugarcane estates. They took the last train back to Port-of-Spain at 5.50 pm in the evening.
"I learned much from my predecessors–my uncle and my father. I followed the steps of others, and I always tried to excel," said Aboud.
But he wanted to own his own store.
"I still remember that day I walked in the bank to start my business," said Aboud. "It was 1949 and I had been working in Charlotte Street for six months. I needed a loan to start a business. I put on my coat and hat and tie. In those days everybody walked the streets in a suit."
At the bank, Aboud secured an overdraft credit of $500. He was 22 years old, ambitious and determined to succeed.
"In that period, business was very competitive–especially among the established firms. Only hard-working people survived. Wages were five shillings a week. Cheap cottons were 35 cents. When you crossed $1,000 a day for sales, you did very well."
Getting his own store was a dream come true. And then came the Korean War in 1951. The post-World War II tension between the communist world and the democratic west had come to a showdown in Korea.
"I had the experience of selling during World War II when goods were scarce. This war, I thought, would bring the same conditions."
Aboud bought cloth in bulk. He needed to have stock for what he thought would be a long war. But six months later, a treaty was signed. The Korean War ended.
"I was involved in overbuying," Aboud said with a frown. "I got carried away–not only me, but most of the traders. The goods arrived; there was no market to trade, no room to stockpile. I didn't have the money to clear the goods and the port threatened to auction what wasn't cleared. Many people went bankrupt."
Ambitious Aboud had to break the news of his near demise to his family.
"They said, 'You are crazy, man. You brought down so much goods?'"
But Aboud's family stood beside him.
"I was saved by additional finance from family members extending me credit. During that period I had to work longer hours, night into day, selling goods at low margins–even at a loss–to pay back my family."
The hard worked paid off.
"Thereafter I learned my lesson. I was the most cautious buyer."
It was during this time, Aboud said, that he earned his title.
"The people bestowed upon me the title of Textile King because of my choice and taste in fabric."
It is a gift, he said, he always had, being able to predict colours and trends in designs.
"I had a knack for designs and my prices were far ahead of my competitors."
Still, Aboud's competitors scoffed at his title.
"They ridiculed me and said, 'A textile king? What kind of a king is that?'"
That didn't deter him. He was too busy staying ahead of the competition. These were the days when the cloth business depended on picking and choosing from agents who brought samples to the stores. Cloth merchants like Aboud didn't travel abroad to buy cloth.
By 1956, Aboud had recovered financially. Trinidad seemed to be sewing up a storm. Business boomed.
"I acquired a rental in the Salvatori Building on the corner of Independence and Henry Street. This was a big achievement. Most of my competitors were surprised because I had started small on Charlotte Street. They were surprised and jealous."
Then, disaster struck once again.
"All my joys were shattered after six months. I lost the business in the Salvatori fire. The whole block burned in 1956. I had to start all over again.
"The one consolation I had came from a priest, Fr Tober, who was head of CIC. He said to me, 'God took your business away and what he takes away he gives back tenfold.' That inspired me to get up and get."
Soon, Aboud moved his business to lower Henry Street, upstairs in the Ghany Building.
"I got a boost in trade with the Venezuelans, who were very active and vibrant in coming to buy goods that they took back to South America. I had a good pull there."
And then came the day in 1956 that changed Jimmy Aboud's life. An estate agent told him a property on the corner of Queen and Henry Street was vacant. Aboud paid $200,000 for the property where his kingdom now stands.
"Most of the traders around there, and my family,ere so upset and angry. They thought it was a foolish mistake, and I had overpaid for the property. Once again, my business associates said I was crazy."
Aboud shrugged off the criticism. All he could think about was that this was the first business place that he had owned. He set about remodelling and improving the building, which had a rum shop in the front. In the back were stations for horses to drink water. The building dated back to the days when horses were the mode of transportation in Port-of-Spain.
Jimmy Aboud claimed his throne, but most of the time–even into his 80s–he spent his days standing next to the cash register where he doled out discounts to his loyal subjects. In 65 years of business, he saw it all.
"The 60s were good years, people had manners. They were humble and treated each other with respect. The 70s was the Black Power Movement, but my store was left alone in the marches.
"The 80s were a little rough."
He had begun exporting cloth throughout the Caribbean. During the 80s the old method of buying cloth from agents faded out.
"We had to do more research and travel to mills abroad. I travelled all over the world–Japan, Korea, Indonesia, Malaysia, Taiwan, Italy and beyond–in search of cloth."
Even into his 80s je travelled to buy cloth once a year.
His last setback in business was the 1990 coup attempt by Muslimeen leader Imam Yasin Abu Bakr
"We suffered. The business was ransacked–there was more stock on the road than inside the building.
"But by the grace of God we were one of the few business places in Port-of-Spain not destroyed by fire."
If he had to do it all again, Aboud had said he would still choose the same business.
"I like cloth," said Aboud without hesitation. "Cloth gives you life. It is colour, design, texture. Things like furniture, these things are dead to the mind. Cloth is everything."
And that is why, in the kingdom of cloth, Jimmy Aboud was the textile king.