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There’s one case I’ll never forget, a Business-to-Consumer (B2C) client who owed a significant amount, but every step felt like a chess match.
From day one, the journey was drenched in delays, excuses, and what I like to call the “professional ping-pong move”.
At first, the client was polite: “I will pay tomorrow.” Tomorrow came and passed. Nothing.
Then came Stage Two: The Disappearing Act. Calls went unanswered. Messages blue-ticked with no response. Every time I thought I had reached him, he magically had “another emergency” that needed to be attended to only by him and God.
It was one of those cases where you feel like you’re chasing a ghost with no form or substance, but anyway, I had to chase, and giving up was never an option.
So, I switched strategies. No more pushing. No more long speeches. No more cornering him with deadlines. Instead, I sent one message that read: “I’m not here to make your life harder. Let’s figure this out together.”
That shifted everything. He texted hours later, long messages, paragraphs full of exhaustion, job gone, wife gone, family responsibilities crushing him, embarrassment too heavy to admit. For the first time, he wasn’t pretending. He was just tired and needed a shoulder and a human to listen to him.
We talked for a very long time. I broke down the debt into small pieces and structured something he could handle without drowning. He agreed to start with something symbolic, a tiny amount that wasn’t about cash; it was about commitment.
And when that first payment came in, I knew we were finally on the right road. But just when I thought the case had stabilised, he went silent again. No calls. No texts. Nothing. The old frustration returned, but instead of turning up the heat, I breathed and wrote one simple message: “You’ve come too far to disappear again. Don’t let this setback stop you. We can do this all over again.”
He called that night. Not with excuses, with honesty. He told me he felt ashamed that he couldn’t keep up, so he panicked and avoided me, but was working on something and only needed to surprise me. I reminded him that truth beats disappearing every day of the week.
Four days later, at 6:52 am, my phone vibrated with a message notification. It was a payment confirmation, not a small one, the final repayment in full. The man cleared the entire debt in one move. What he wrote after the payment hit harder than the recovery itself: “Thank you for not giving up on me when everyone gave up on me.”
And that’s the part people never see. Behind every excuse, every delay, and every vanishing act, there’s usually a story, not always a good one, not always a convincing one, but often a human one. This wasn’t just debt recovery. It was someone rebuilding their dignity. In the end, it wasn’t pressure that won, nor threats, nor was it loudness, but patience, strategy, and psychology, and the simple act of listening long enough to hear the real story behind the noise.
That recovery didn’t just close a file; it reminded me why this work is hard and why it matters. This is what we represent every day: a company redefining how collection is done.
– The writer is a Certified Public Accountant, credit management specialist, and founder of Marathon Debt Recovery Ltd
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There’s one case I’ll never forget, a Business-to-Consumer (B2C) client who owed a significant amount, but every step felt like a chess match.
From day one, the journey was drenched in delays, excuses, and what I like to call the “professional ping-pong move”.
At first, the client was polite: “I will pay tomorrow.” Tomorrow came and passed. Nothing.
Then came Stage Two: The Disappearing Act. Calls went unanswered. Messages blue-ticked with no response. Every time I thought I had reached him, he magically had “another emergency” that needed to be attended to only by him and God.
It was one of those cases where you feel like you’re chasing a ghost with no form or substance, but anyway, I had to chase, and giving up was never an option.
So, I switched strategies. No more pushing. No more long speeches. No more cornering him with deadlines. Instead, I sent one message that read: “I’m not here to make your life harder. Let’s figure this out together.”
That shifted everything. He texted hours later, long messages, paragraphs full of exhaustion, job gone, wife gone, family responsibilities crushing him, embarrassment too heavy to admit. For the first time, he wasn’t pretending. He was just tired and needed a shoulder and a human to listen to him.
We talked for a very long time. I broke down the debt into small pieces and structured something he could handle without drowning. He agreed to start with something symbolic, a tiny amount that wasn’t about cash; it was about commitment.
And when that first payment came in, I knew we were finally on the right road. But just when I thought the case had stabilised, he went silent again. No calls. No texts. Nothing. The old frustration returned, but instead of turning up the heat, I breathed and wrote one simple message: “You’ve come too far to disappear again. Don’t let this setback stop you. We can do this all over again.”
He called that night. Not with excuses, with honesty. He told me he felt ashamed that he couldn’t keep up, so he panicked and avoided me, but was working on something and only needed to surprise me. I reminded him that truth beats disappearing every day of the week.
Four days later, at 6:52 am, my phone vibrated with a message notification. It was a payment confirmation, not a small one, the final repayment in full. The man cleared the entire debt in one move. What he wrote after the payment hit harder than the recovery itself: “Thank you for not giving up on me when everyone gave up on me.”
And that’s the part people never see. Behind every excuse, every delay, and every vanishing act, there’s usually a story, not always a good one, not always a convincing one, but often a human one. This wasn’t just debt recovery. It was someone rebuilding their dignity. In the end, it wasn’t pressure that won, nor threats, nor was it loudness, but patience, strategy, and psychology, and the simple act of listening long enough to hear the real story behind the noise.
That recovery didn’t just close a file; it reminded me why this work is hard and why it matters. This is what we represent every day: a company redefining how collection is done.
– The writer is a Certified Public Accountant, credit management specialist, and founder of Marathon Debt Recovery Ltd
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By James Mungai