I once convinced the owner of a small, local café to switch from a national brand of syrups to a small-batch, artisan syrup maker I had discovered. It wasn't about the hard sell; it was about shared values. I noticed the café took immense pride in its homemade pastries and locally roasted coffee beans, but their syrups were mass-produced and full of preservatives—a detail that stood out to me as inconsistent with their story.So, the next time I was in, I casually mentioned to the owner how much I loved their commitment to quality. Then, I gently pointed out the disconnect with the syrups. I could see the slight defensiveness at first, so I quickly pivoted to a solution. I had brought a small bottle of the artisan syrup—a simple vanilla made with real bourbon beans and organic cane sugar—and offered it to him as a gift, no strings attached. "Just something I thought you might find interesting, given your approach to ingredients," I said.A week later, I returned. His face lit up when he saw me. He’d tried the vanilla sample and was genuinely surprised by the depth of flavor. He admitted he hadn't even considered his syrups as part of the "quality" equation. That opened the door. We spent the next twenty minutes talking about the story of the small-batch syrup company—how it was a family-run operation, how they sourced sustainably, and how their products could elevate his lattes while aligning perfectly with the authentic, handcrafted brand he was building.He didn't just order the vanilla; he set up a meeting with the syrup company to sample their entire line. He became a regular customer, and later, he even created a featured drink to showcase the new product. The persuasion worked because I didn't lead with the product's features; I led with a genuine understanding of his business and his values, and I showed him how this choice wasn't just a change in inventory, but a reinforcement of his entire brand's promise. It was a win for him, a win for the syrup maker, and honestly, a win for me as a customer who then got to enjoy an even better latte.

Building relationships with new local vendors starts not with a transaction, but with a conversation. I’d begin by truly getting to know them—visiting their farm, workshop, or kitchen, not as a buyer, but as a curious guest. I’d want to hear their story: what fuels their passion, the pride they take in their craft, and the challenges they’ve overcome. It’s about looking them in the eye, shaking their hand, and understanding that behind every product is a person, a family, and a dream.From there, it’s about partnership, not just procurement. I’d focus on how we can grow together—maybe that means featuring their story alongside their product on our shelves, or collaboratively testing a new product idea that plays to their strengths. Transparency would be key; I’d be upfront about what we can realistically offer, from shelf space to payment terms, because trust is built on honesty, not just optimism. It’s not about squeezing out the best deal, but rather building a relationship where both of us feel valued, supported, and excited to create something meaningful for our community.

there isn't one in or around Botswana unfortunately