In memory of Nishal Sodha
Last week Nishal Sodha, a colleague and friend, passed away suddenly. He was a remarkable man and I wanted to turn the sadness I’m feeling into a post celebrating warm memories. I hope in reading this those that knew him will smile, laugh, cry, and those that didn’t will get some sense of how special he was.
Also he was forever batting away my requests for him to write a blog post (“I don’t have bloody time for that Breadmore”) so I hope this will make him smile.
The statesman
My main memory of Nish will always be of his presence and charisma. I’ve worked with a lot of polished communicators, but none as skilled as Nish in capturing and charming a room. From day one his presence in the Nairobi HQ was felt — his loud and clear voice rang out, and he filled the place with his energy.
He had been hired to head up a partnership with Mastercard, a big role full of competing pressures internally and externally. He threw himself into the work and relationships, and quickly emerged as a natural leader among the consortium, not through force or hierarchy, but by credibility and humility. He became an expert in the 4G mission, an expert in the EV space that we were looking to power, and an expert in juggling the competing human dynamics.
My favourite memory in this vein is a meeting we had between him, me, Austen (CFO) and Roseanne (COO). It was an hour to unpick a gnarly work riddle, and Nish asked if he could open the session. He asked us all to close our eyes, and then spent ten minutes telling a story in which different characters featured and took actions. At the end he asked how we would have felt if the race or gender of these characters shifted, to make a point about bias. It was bold stuff given the audience and context, but worked perfectly and stands in my mind as evidence of a gifted communicator.
His honesty
As above, Nish had a tough role and one that was punctuated by high-stress. As his line manager he was open with me about his anxieties and concerns, and we grew close. Never has my imposter syndrome felt keener, as I saw Nish as so much wiser than me. Nevertheless we formed a great working relationship, and together wrestled with stakeholder alignment challenges and debating creative ways of deploying new product MVPs. Mostly I was working in London and him from Nairobi, and we maintained close contact.
I remember one of his reviews, giving him feedback that he could do more to bring his energy into HQ, as it was noted he often had lunch alone; “I need that time to recharge” was his response, “I enjoy quiet time as I can then perform and be the loud dynamic Nish when needed”. I still think about this conversation, and seeing him wrestle with the responsibility that big character brings.
His humour
Nish was a funny guy. I loved watching him slip between English and Swahili, bantering with the housekeeping team and his own team in the mornings; Kenyan working culture can be quiet, so it was awesome to see him sweep in and greet all with a smile and a gag / quip / bit-of-chat. As a keen Liverpool fan he’d enjoy ribbing Douglas (MUFC fan) after a weekend of games.
Always open to banter back in his direction, we had fun teasing him about his seemingly endless contacts. You really couldn’t go anywhere in Nairobi without him knowing somebody in the meeting / cafe / bar. His weekends were full of hikes, restaurant launches and entertaining at his apartment, with an array of interesting folk from all walks of life.
His generosity
Supremely kind and thoughtful, he was proud of his two sons and their academic achievements, beaming when he talked of them, and showing photos whenever he got the chance. And this paternal instinct carried into the office, where he grew a pilots and partnerships team unlike no other in the business. Within the team there was a blend of homegrown talent from within the business (Nicole, Millie and Elizabeth), and external hires with long CVs (Evans).
In lesser hands this team would have fallen apart, as it had to stand up a complex lending programme in the context of a wider company tech overhaul, all while going through the usual growing pains of new ways of working. But with Nish it thrived. He had no ego about whatever work was required, and threw himself into whatever challenge presented itself. And throughout his upmost focus was the wellbeing of the team — this was always first on his mind when we caught up.
With his encouragement and leadership, Nicole, Millie, Liz and Evans became as centre-stage as Nish was, and nowhere was this more apparent than his teams Friday MDT (multi-disciplinary-team meeting). As often happens in companies, the norm for these types of meetings is that the senior person hogs the airtime, but Nish took more and more of a backseat. He’d give the headlines, take ownership of any tricky topics, and then the team brought the work to life, full of encouragement and empowerment from Nish. It sounds simple but remains as a proud team memory for me.
I will remember more and come back and add. But I hope for any of my 4G colleagues, I’ve made you smile and jostled some of your own memories. I also hope you take on some Nish-isms to continue in his memory.
And for any of Nishs wider friends and family reading, please know that he was really loved by his colleagues and will remain in their hearts as a good, kind man.
