Redlionofsales (Book) By Mathias Machona
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In the saga of “Red Lion of Sales,” I recount my journey from homelessness to success. Gifted with singing, I penned songs and sold them across London, delving into the enigma of customer psychology. Unlike mere theorists, I share firsthand insights, selling products one-on-one across the UK. From Westminster to Buckingham Palace, Mayfair to Knightsbridge, and beyond, I earned the moniker “Red Lion of Sales” for my prowess in product selling, particularly music.
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Description
In the saga of “Red Lion of Sales,” I recount my journey from homelessness to success. Gifted with singing, I penned songs and sold them across London, delving into the enigma of customer psychology. Unlike mere theorists, I share firsthand insights, selling products one-on-one across the UK. From Westminster to Buckingham Palace, Mayfair to Knightsbridge, and beyond, I earned the moniker “Red Lion of Sales” for my prowess in product selling, particularly music.
About the Author
My name is Mathias Machona, I was born in March 1983. I grew up in Harare, the capital city of Zimbabwe, in the Highfield district, an area called Egypt, under President Robert Mugabe. The area I grew up in was a high-density suburb with high poverty and high crime. I went to elementary school and then high school (college) until the fourth grade, but I dropped out last year and started hanging out with bad guys who weren’t interested in school.
Click Here to read more about my journey from homelessness to success in the Red Lion of Sales, ebook or Paperback. In which I write about sales, marketing, riches & wealth creation.
“Being homeless is the hardest thing I have ever gone through in my days of adversity. Sleeping outside on the floor in the streets of London. I would cover myself with a blanket but still be cold, I would put card boxes underneath me to be warm but still be colder, would hide for shelter from the rain but still be soaked because the roof wasn’t wide enough to protect me from the rain. I would sleep in the night but fearful that whilst I slept a passerby would beat me or steal from me. It was a hard life. when the day came I would stretch my eyes looking for handouts in case somebody was generous enough to read my miserable, hopeless situation. All day I lived in want of everything, clothes, food, shelter, money, a good life, family, Job until my mind would be stretched to the limit. Being homeless is a hard nut life.”
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