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Karsanbhai Patel - A Clean Sweep

Ivory tower theories are rethinking their business basics-thanks to Karsanbhai K.Patel. Taking on the might of a multinational, his-priced detergent Nirma captured a majority market share arresting the sales and growth of a consumer giant’s upmarket brand. Patel now has to chalk out a strategy that’ll help him keep the competitive edge.


Among the greatest success stories in the annals of marketing management in India is that of a low-priced detergent of reasonably good quality which, in the course of a mere decade, put the skids on a product that was considered the pride of a powerful multi-national.


The story of Nirma, has become a classic as a marketing case-study. And the story of its progenitor is as genuine and romantic a tale of rags-to-riches as one could hope to find anywhere.


One of the basic axioms of management is to avoid a head-on confrontation with a giant multi-national, especially one which is the undisputed leader in its field. Karsanbhai Khodidas Patel, a one-time government servant, chose to buck these grandiose theories, and took on the might of Hindustan Lever with his puny homespun outfit. In this one respect, his case can be compared to those of Henry Ford and Apple in the USA, and Sony and Honda and Honda in Japan, all maverick entrepreneurs who built their empire on gut feeling rather than following the classical pattern taught in business schools.


To look at the 48-year-old Karsanbhai, one would hardly believe that he is the head of, and the sole brain behind, an industrial empire that is today within a heartbeat of crossing the magical Rs.1,000 crore mark. The round, bespectacled face, the great shining pate with a crescent-moon of hair on its fringe, and the simple white cotton shirt are typical of thousands of middle-class people who commute daily between their modest homes in the suburbs and their modest homes in the suburbs and their places or work in the city.


But this is not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill blue collar worker. A closer look at his steely eyes and the determined set of his jaw will assure you that this is s self-made man whose ambition is far from having run its course. I want to be the biggest among Indian businessmen, he has repeatedly told the few journalists whom he has consented to give interviews to.


For Karsanbhai is reclusive to the point of being unapproachable to the media. A faxed request for an interview is replied to on his behalf by one of the minions with a standard expression of regret; and signed Nirma not Patel. To more persistent newsmen who mange to pass through his filters, he pleads the rigors of a 12-hour working day that starts when he leaves home at seven in the morning, and is punctuated by visits to all his plants in Ahmedabad. But, to a scribe finally admitted into his presence, he proves as friendly as he is with workers on his shop floor with whom he must have daily chats.


For all his wealth today, there is nothing at all of the nouveau-riche about him. His office, too is reminiscent of that belonging to a typical small Gujarati businessman. Photographers of Hindu gods and goddesses seem to be all over, though he insists he is not overtly religious. Nor is he a socialite. Parties bore me, and I find it hard to stay out late at night, he explains. My main source of relaxation after a hard day’s work is to watch a Hindi movie on the video.


It is a long, hard road that Karsanbhai has trudged to get where he has. It was partly economic adversity that first turned his thoughts to a part-time entrepreneurship in 1968. I was a chemist with the Gujarat Minerals Development Corporation, and had to work in a dingly, ill-equipped laboratory in Ahmedabad, he reminisces. The work was dull and my salary of Rs.400/- was grossly insufficient to take care of all my expenses. I decided I had to do something on the side to bring some additional money.


It was during experiments in his kitchen that his knowledge of chemicals enabled him to concoct an effective detergent which was inexpensive enough to allow him to sell it to his neighbour’s for a small profit. He called the turmeric yellow powder Nirma after his then one-year-old daughter, Niranjana, who was affectionately known to everyone as Nirma (she was to tragically die at the age of 20 in October, 1987 in a car accident).


For harried housewives, struggling to balance their monthly budgets, the product came as a boom. It was much cheaper than Surf, which had already gone well out of their reach; and it washed clothes nearly as well. Its cleansing power was far superior to that of the slabs of cheap washing soaps that had been their sole alternative until then. As word-of-mouth spread, Karsanbhai got more and more customers to whom he effected his deliveries on foot.


That one-man cottage industry, which used neither motive power nor sophisticated machinery, was to metamorphose over the years into an empire that is today estimated to have a sales turnover of nearly Rs.1000 crore. The main who used to heft his product on his own shoulders and make deliveries on foot today employs more than 14,000 people in his empire.


I found a massive market segment that was hungry for a good-quality product at an affordable price, he recalls. So I decided to keep my margins very low, and was happy if I could net between three and fiver percent. His profits really came from the huge volumes he generated.


Karsanbhai believed strongly in the time-honoured Coco Cola maxim that his product should be available within an arm’s length of desire. So he concentrated on widening his distribution network; and Nirma began surfacing all over Gujarat, in scruffy little shops in even the remotest villages. As the product’s fame spread, agents from all over the country began writing in, and expressing their willingness to operate on the tiny margins that the businessman gave.


As televisions reach spread in India during the late 1970s so too did Nirma’s. the little girl on the pack became a symbol that was almost generic with a good quality, low-priced detergent. A catchy jungle hammered home the message to millions of housewives. It was as if a down market consumer revolution had taken off.


By the early 1980s the burgeoning sales of Nirma reached a rate of growth that was twice or thrice that of the industry in general. Moreover, Nirma operated in the small-scale sector and, therefore saved an enormous amount of excise duty that multinationals had to pay on every kilo of detergent produced. The latter simply could not hope to bring the price down to a level that was attractive enough for the middle and lower-middle classes, which were the bulks segments for Nirma sales.


Nirma’s inexorable march has been arrested to some extent in the course of the last one year, though its growth rate remains higher than that of the rest of the washing soaps industry. In detergent powder and cake, my market share would be around 65 percent claims Karsanbhai, who is very fond of comparing and contracting his own sales figures with those of his major rival.


The industry has been growing at the rate of 15 per cent annually while Nirma’s growth has been at least 30-35 per cent a year for the last few years. In any case, I am not after anyone else’s market share. My products have always succeeded in expanding the very size of the market segment in which they are slotted.


Even today, after Nirma price has gone up with inflation and rising production costs, the yellow detergent still retails at around Rs.12.50 per kilo in Bombay.


Even the second product that Karsanbhai introduced-a low-priced toilet soap, which he thoroughly test marketed in Gujarat before going national with it in 1990-hs been faring well. Nirma toilet soap retails at a mere Rs.2/- with the shopkeeper allowed to retain 25 paisa behind each cake sold. The Nirma name itself was a guarantee of quality for the consumer smiles the businessman. It found ready acceptance.


As he had done with Nirma detergent, Karsanbhai did not start up a media assault until his entire distribution network had the product in place. We advertise only after we have launched a product in place.


We advertise only after we have launched a product, he says wisely. Nothing can be more irritating for a customer than to see a product advertised, and then find it has not reached his grocer. Advertising just tells people that a product is available. After that, the product has to stand on its own feet on quality and price.


A toothpaste, which Karsanbhai claims has been developed with indigenous technology, is next in the pipeline, but has already taken nearly four years on the drawing board.


Of late, Karsanbhai had encountered several other problems that promise to try his managerial skills to the utmost. One is the fact that his size has expanded so much that he is deemed to be a public limited company. That status will deprive his products of their edge in price, because they will be gathered into the excise net.


The intrepid entrepreneur also faces intense competition from the small sectors, which was his initial launch-pad. Inspired by the success of Nirma, there are literally hundreds of soap-makers, who have made Ahmedabad the detergent capital of the country. Since transportation costs are a very crucial part of the costings in a low-priced detergent, many manufacturers are locating their factories as close as possible to their eventual sales points so as to save on transport costs. Nirma could well lose out soon on its best Unique Selling Proposition-price.


Another problem is that the sheer size of his operations makes it difficult for Karsanbhai to maintain the highly centeralized style of running that has always been characteristic of Nirma. For an enterprise that is today competing with Godrej for the accolade of the largest privately-owned business in India, Nirma has an exceedingly toplight management structure, with barely 200 managers handling the huge 14,000 strong work force. Decision-making is restricted to a handful of top people.


Karsanbhai pooh-poohs the suggestion that this centralized and paternalistic manner of running such a huge operation could damage his organization. If prefer to keep in touch with things directly, he maintains. I have always disliked having to rely on reports to know what is happening in the field and on the shop floor. By being in contact with the people on the spot you can also take decisions on the spot. Of course, as a company grows and expands outside its base, it needs more managers. But we have a pretty competent team already.


It is some achievement that, despite the size of Nirma Chemical works, Karsanbhai has managed to keep it a private limited company. He has been talking for the last five years of going public but has been postponing doing it, one pretext or another. If I can generate the funds from internal accruals and private borrowings, why should I hurry about going public? he demands.


And there the matter stands. But if he does proceed with what remains only a nebulous idea at the back of his mind, this could be one issue that the public will rush for, and which could well set up a new record for oversubscription. For Karsanbhai Khodidas Patel has become something of a cult figure in the Gujarati community, next only to Dhirubhai Ambani, as a sort of benchmark for every aspiring entrepreneur to aim at.