Jamal's Story... I watched the line rise for two years, and no one asked why. Then it stopped... and we all knew.

I watched the line rise for two years, and no one asked why. Then it stopped... and we all knew.

I met Jamal in 2019. I wasn't a partner in his company, nor was I an investor, but I was a witness to a story that later became one of the most important investment lessons I've ever experienced.

To this day, I still see the same story repeating itself, even if the names and faces change. Let me tell you... the story.

There are people who possess a strange ability to make you see the world as they see it, not as it is. Jamal was one of them. He wasn't the smartest, nor the most innovative, and he didn't possess a technology that would change the world, but he had a rare talent. He knew how to turn the future into a story... and then make everyone believe it.

He didn't talk much about the product. He talked about the future, knowing that the future is the only place where no one can call you a liar, nor prove you are honest. That's why the future was the best place for dreamers... and scammers... to hide.

He knew when to speak, when to smile, and when to let the screen speak for him. For numbers, when they rise, become more eloquent than any orator. And the higher the line rose on the chart... the lower the level of questions became. This was his skill.

When I first met him, I realized that greed has its own waiting room. One investor leaves smiling, while another waits for his turn. No one was asking: Is this a good investment opportunity? The real question lingering in their minds was: How do I invest before the company's valuation rises again?

Jamal knew this. He wasn't selling shares, and he wasn't selling a product. He was selling people's fear of missing out (FOMO), and he did it with such brilliance that everyone thought they had made the decision on their own.

On the wall, there was a large screen displaying a single number: sales growth. Jamal would point to it like a military commander pointing to his map of victories, and then smile. That smile was enough for the investor to walk out convinced that they had found the opportunity of a lifetime.

Months passed, and the line kept rising. Then it rose even more. No one asked for details. Success, when it appears obvious, makes curiosity look like pessimism.

I was watching the whole scene. There was something bothering me—not because I saw a mistake, but because I didn't see anyone looking for one. All eyes were glued to the growth, and no one was looking behind the numbers.

Then came the day when the new investment round was delayed. At first, no one cared. Large rounds get delayed sometimes. Then a week passed, then a month. And for the first time... the growth stopped rising, then began to drop.

The discounts disappeared, then the marketing campaigns stopped, then the expansion plans halted. It was as if someone had drained the fuel from a machine that knew nothing but motion. Suddenly... the growth vanished, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Only then did investors begin to ask the question that should have been asked since the very first meeting: Where was this growth coming from?

The answer was shocking. Jamal wasn't building a growing company. He was using investors' money to buy growth. Every investment round funded bigger discounts, discounts brought in higher sales, high sales attracted new investors, and then a new investment round would come... to buy more growth.

It was a cycle that looked like a success story from the outside, but its reality was simple: take investors' money... give it to customers... and the story grows. As for the company... it was silently devouring itself.

Investors didn't lose because the company stopped growing.

They lost because no one asked from the very beginning...

How was the company growing?

Mohammed bin Saleh

Specialist in Management and Finance