The Price of Saying No.

2026-09-12

When Negotiations Don’t Work Out.

There comes a point in any negotiation when you have to stop asking the same question and start looking at the situation for what it actually is.

Over the past couple of months, I have been discussing a raise with my bosses.

The problem is not that I am earning an astronomical salary. I am not; it is a meagre one at best!

I am the driver. The vehicle belongs to my employers, and I drive it for them. I take them to buy stock; however, I am also increasingly going out on my own to buy stock on their behalf, something that was not agreed upon originally.

Today was a good example of how much the job has expanded beyond simply driving.

I first went to Crown Mines in Johannesburg to buy coffee. Then I went to Fordsburg, where I bought two forequarters from a butcher and two boxes of liver. I brought that stock back and dropped it off at the shop.

That was the first R13,000 I had been entrusted with.

Then I was given another R3,000 to buy four bales of basmati rice, and another R600 to buy a box of frozen chicken.

So, during the day, I was handling R16,600 in business cash for stock purchases.

That money was not mine. It was money entrusted to me to do the shopping for the business.

The Job Has Changed.

Originally, I was employed to drive.

That is my job.

But lately, the driving has become only one part of what I am doing.

Today I was a driver, a buyer, an accountant handling business cash, a collector of stock, and, to end off the weary day, a chauffeur.

After buying the rice and chicken, I picked up the guy from the second shop. He had gone shopping, which is what was the norm, however while he did his business I had to go out to buy additional stock. Then I had to return to the place I dropped him off, so as to load his stock and take him back to his shop.

And now, as I sit writing this, I have been sent out to take somebody to a hairdresser.

This is the reality of the working day I experienced today, Saturday 12th September 2026

I am supposed to be driving their vehicle. And not end up buying extra stock for them.

I am using their vehicle to do the work they need done, including taking them to buy stock, but as of late I am increasingly going out myself to purchase stock for them.

The R16,600 Question.

Today’s shopping list was not small.

There was coffee from Yarrona in Crown Mines. There were two forequarters and two boxes of liver from Kolaba Buthery in Fordsburg. Then there were four bales of basmati rice and a box of frozen chicken.

The money is not mine. I am trusted to carry it, spend it according to instructions, collect the stock, and make sure the goods get where they need to go.

That is a responsibility I take seriously, but do not appreciate having to do it, as it was never part of our original verbal agreement.

So now you can see why it makes the wage question even more difficult to ignore.

R16,600 was entrusted to me today.

My own day’s earnings are R150.

Those are two very different numbers.

What Other Drivers Are Earning.

There is another part of this that bothers me.

I know other drivers. I speak to some of them regularly.

I know of at least two cases where drivers are earning around R200 a day, which works out to approximately R4,700 a month.

I am not writing this to say that their situation is better or worse than mine.

I am asking why this seems to be the sort of employment that is available to people who are already struggling.

And that brings me to another question.

Why are so many of the people doing this work older men?

Why pensioners?

Why people who are already desperate for additional income?

Why Older Men?

I don’t want to accuse that which I cannot prove.

That is not the purpose of this article.

But I can ask questions.

Is it because older men are considered more reliable?

Is it because pensioners are willing to accept work that younger people might refuse?

Is it because older people are grateful for the opportunity to earn something?

Or is there another reason?

I have even wondered whether age makes a difference when dealing with traffic police.

Perhaps an older driver is perceived as less likely to be stopped.

Perhaps that is completely wrong.

I honestly don’t know.

And that is precisely why I am asking rather than making a declaration.

When Negotiation Reaches Its Limit.

I have tried negotiating.

I have explained my position.

I have asked about an increase.

The response has not changed enough to change my circumstances.

Eventually, a person has to recognise that negotiation only works when both sides are prepared to move.

If one side keeps asking and the other side keeps saying no, then eventually the negotiation is over.

That doesn’t necessarily mean that somebody is evil.

It doesn’t mean that somebody is being exploited.

It simply means that the arrangement has reached a point where the numbers have to be examined honestly.

The Question Behind the Question.

Perhaps the biggest question isn’t actually about my increase.

Perhaps it is this:

What is the real value of the work being performed?

If somebody is prepared to spend their day driving, purchasing stock, collecting goods, dealing with traffic, fuel, vehicles, customers, responsibility and risk, what should that person’s time actually be worth?

And if that person is a pensioner who has already spent a lifetime working, should desperation determine the value of his labour?

I don’t have an easy answer.

But I think it is a question worth asking.

I Am Not Looking for a Fight.

This isn’t an attack on my employers.

It is a record of where I find myself.

I have bills.

I have responsibilities.

I have limited working years left.

And I am trying to make the numbers work.

If negotiation doesn’t work, then I have to look at the situation differently.

Perhaps I need to accept the arrangement. (Highly Unlikely)

Perhaps I need to find another arrangement. (Believe me I am looking at other options)

Perhaps I need to create another source of income. (Trying hard at achieving that goal)

Or perhaps I simply need to stop expecting the situation to change because I have asked for it to change.

That last possibility is probably the hardest one to accept, as it means I will have to burn bridges, something I am good at.

The Everyday Budget Lesson.

A budget is not only about adding up money.

Sometimes a budget tells you when a working arrangement is no longer making sense.

R16,600 in business cash doesn’t mean that I am financially secure. It is not my money. It is money I have been entrusted to use for purchasing stock.

R200 a day doesn’t automatically mean that somebody else is being treated unfairly.

But both numbers tell us something.

They tell us that there are real people trying to make real lives work with real money.

And when the negotiations don’t work out, the only responsible thing to do is look at the numbers honestly and decide what comes next.

So, Why?

Why pensioners?

Why older men?

Why R200 a day for some drivers?

Why does somebody who can be entrusted with R16,600 to purchase coffee, forequarters, liver, rice, chicken and other stock still feel as though he needs to negotiate for a better income?

Why do some working arrangements make sense to the person paying, but leave the person doing the work wondering whether it makes sense at all?

I don’t know.

I genuinely don’t know.

But I think these are fair questions.

And sometimes asking the question is the first step toward discovering the answer.

Final Thought.

There is a difference between complaining and recording reality.

I have complained.

I have negotiated.

I have asked.

Now I am recording what I see.

The numbers are what they are.

The questions are still unanswered.

And tomorrow, I still have to get up and make the budget work.

That is everyday life.

✍️ Othello Cody Verrocchio
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