In Winning the Property Game, Koketso Sylvia Milosevic reveals how she built her property portfolio, turning it into a multi-million-rand business. Having trained more than 50 000 students, she now shares her secrets with the world: From how to optimise joint venture deals; orchestrate capital flips; elicit crowd-funding and utilise stokvels to how to attract angel investors to grow the business. With black women driving the South African property market, this guide could not be more timely. An extract has been republished below with permission from the authors.
I had worked very hard all through my high school years, so in my final year I decided that I didn’t really want to study further. I wasn’t really looking at colleges or universities – I was fixated on getting work and ‘making it’ in the real world. So while my classmates and some of my friends talked about their plans for studying further, I was searching for and researching work opportunities. Just as I was weighing up my options, my first boyfriend got a job at Montecasino in Fourways, north of Johannesburg, and suggested that I apply for a job as a dealer. We had been dating for two years.
‘You can make a fortune in tips,’ he told me.
So I applied. I prayed so hard that they would call me, because I wanted to earn my own money and help my family. I could barely leave the phone. As the days passed, I did my best to remain optimistic. A few weeks later, as I was helping Mama Moipone to pack stock onto the shelves in the spaza shop, my brother came to tell me that there was a call for me. I rushed inside and answered, my heart pounding.
‘Koketso Sylvia Moloisane,’ the caller said, ‘we want you to start an internship on Monday. You will have to learn the ropes, but you will get a stipend of R3 500, with lunch included.’
I screamed with excitement. I ran back to the shop to tell Mama Moipone, and my entire family celebrated with me that day. I moved in with my boyfriend until I could get my own place.
After three months of training, they offered me a full-time job at R7 000 a month. I shared a two-bedroom apartment with another staff member, and we split the rent of R5 000 between us. Including tips, I was actually earning about R12 000, which was a lot of money back then. I had become a self-reliant adult. I used much of the rest of my income to help my family, particularly my brother.
For a casino dealer, looks and image are everything. So I made sure that my hair, nails, shoes and everything else about my appearance was on point. I loved buying beautiful clothes, and I could afford it. I was never without my lip gloss or my trademark short hairstyle, modelled on one of my icons, Halle Berry. Two years later, at age 20, I was still working at Montecasino and felt I had achieved a degree of financial independence. I was still entering beauty pageants, and my heart was set on entering the biggest one of all – Miss South Africa.
Even though I enjoyed working in the casino, I felt there should be more to my life. On some days my eyes were red from the hours spent under artificial lights, and I wanted a new challenge. The glamour was starting to wear off, and the casino felt small, familiar and cloying. I wanted to move on and up.
The next day, after being on the tables for 75 minutes, I went to lunch with a few of the other dealers. A supervisor sat down with us with a newspaper in his hand.
‘You ladies are sitting here with your glamorous jobs, make-up and heels,’ he said. ‘You think this is a way to live? You are stuck here in this casino. There are great opportunities out there, and you are going to miss out if you sit here all day.’
‘What are you talking about?’ we asked. He then told us an American cruise ship agency had opened an office in Cape Town and were interviewing people for jobs on cruise ships in various parts of the world.
‘You can make so much money on those boats.’ His comment struck a chord in me. But a cruise ship? I had never even been near the sea. But I knew I was on a dead-end street. My relationship with my boyfriend was rocky, and this might provide me with a way out and a brand-new start. It didn’t take me long to make up my mind. During my next break, I went to the supervisor and asked him for more details. To my surprise, he told me I was the only casino dealer who had done so. He also encouraged me to apply.
‘Do it, Sylvia,’ he urged me. ‘You’re too good to get stuck here. You are young, and this is your time to go for it. Look at you! You are beautiful, smart and ambitious.’ The very next day I called the agency in Cape Town and told one of their agents that I was interested in applying for a position as a casino dealer overseas. He told me the last day for interviews was the very next day.
‘No exceptions. Can you fly to Cape Town for an interview tomorrow? Otherwise, you won’t be able to make it.’ The answer, as I knew to the depths of my very being, was yes. The next day, I didn’t show up for work, and I used an entire month’s rent money to buy a plane ticket to Cape Town. I took my first flight ever, and I made it there just in time. There were lots of people in the interview room, and my heart sank. I joined them
and waited in line. The rumour doing the rounds was that they would
take only 20 of us.
When it was my turn, I walked into the room and saw a very beautiful woman with blonde hair, blue eyes and red lipstick. She looked like the American actress Sharon Stone. She also had a heavy Texan accent. ‘Tell me more about yourself. Who are you, Sylvia?’ she asked. I had been up all night researching all sorts of questions. I knew everything about the ship, their routes and the company. But I didn’t know how to answer that question. It’s the one question no one can prepare for.
I took a deep breath, smiled, and said: ‘Well I’m 20 years old –’
Before I could finish, she cut me off: ‘Wait, how old?’
I repeated: ‘I’m 20.’
She looked surprised, and she asked me: ‘Did you look at the advert for this position?’
I admitted that I hadn’t because I had heard about the job through a referral. Somehow the agency hadn’t checked my details when I had called them the day before. She then told me I had to be 21 or older. This was the age limit for working in casinos in the US, and it applied to American cruise ships as well. At that time, the age limit in South Africa was 18. My heart stopped. I think she could see I was devastated. However, she was nice enough to say, ‘Anyway, this is your slot, and I know you flew all the way here for it, so let’s make use of it.’ We continued talking. She asked me what I would expect to earn. Since I was under age in any case, I felt free to throw out big amounts in dollars. She laughed, and we had a good time. Given that I had already paid for the trip and lied to my work about being sick, at least I could enjoy chatting to an interesting woman from overseas.
I may not have qualified for the job, but the interview fuelled my ambitions. On my flight back home, I thought about her, laughing and talking to me with such confidence. I was out of my league, but it felt as if I had received a confirmation of the future I wanted to create for myself, of the life I wanted to lead. One day, I would be just like her – poised, confident and powerful. I returned to work with a new attitude, inspired by my conversation with my very own Sharon Stone. I didn’t regret spending my money on that plane ticket, even though the rest of the month would be tight.
A week later, as I got ready for work, I stood in front of the long mirror
in my bedroom and looked at myself. I leaned forward and touched up my signature bombshell red lipstick. I shuddered, as a powerful thought came into my mind. ‘I’m going places. I know it and I can feel it. One day, I’m going to make a lot of money and live the life I’ve always wanted.’ I nodded in silent affirmation and smiled as I lashed on even more lipstick, touched up my pixie hairstyle, and blew a kiss to the sassy woman in the mirror.
I got inside the taxi in my black heels and formal attire and headed off for another day in the noisy, dark casino. I felt impatient for my 21st birthday, which was still nine months away. The missed opportunity weighed on me, and I prayed silently that they would recruit more casino dealers the next year. Added to that, 21 was also the age at which I could enter the Miss South Africa competition. It was the year in which my life was going to start in a big way.
Two weeks later, I was getting ready to go home on a Friday afternoon. It was my weekend off, and I was at the taxi rank waiting for a taxi to Ga-Rankuwa when my cell phone rang. It was the cruise ship agency. ‘Congratulations, Sylvia!’ I heard. ‘You’ve been selected to become a dealer on a cruise ship.’ My heart started pounding. I was excited, but also confused.
‘Did I really get the job? How come?’
‘She liked you. She really did,’ the agent said. I screamed with excitement, and gushed, ‘I am so happy and so grateful.’
The agent laughed, but she told me I had to turn 21 before I could start work. She also told me they had already hired 20 other people and had created one more spot for me as candidate number 21. I could hardly wait. Five months before my birthday, I left my job at the casino to spend time with my family. I packed up my flat and got ready for my new life.
Just a month before I had to leave, the agency contacted me again to make arrangements and give me details about my long-awaited trip. I was to fly to Brazil and from there to Miami, where I would board the ship. Flying overseas for the first time was scary, but also very exciting.
‘Look out world,’ I thought. ‘Here I come!’
