JEDDAH, 8 September 2004 — Convert your SAWA card account into a full GSM account, the blurb said. Free, they said. One interpretation of “free” is “no cost.”
One: Hop into a telecom shop and stand in a queue — about 45 minutes. Obtain the form and a number, fill in the form — specifically requesting international call service — then stand in a queue (45 minutes) until your number is called.
Two: Step up to the counter where a charming young man tells you that the telephone number you have been using for three years quite successfully in fact belongs to someone else. Negotiate patiently, explaining to him that all your business cards have that number on them and have had since you were employed. (45 minutes).
Three: Give the nice young man the old chip and receive the new one; jump for joy that it was so easy.
The STC hop, step and jump completed, rejoice in haste, repent at leisure. “The service will be connected in two hours,” the man said. Six actually, but we’ll not mention that. For 48 hours, the account was able to transmit calls. It was, however, unable to receive them. “There is a problem; it will be fixed in half an hour,” they said. Twenty-four hours later and after increasingly irate phone calls to “customer service” — a strangely oxymoronic eponym — they chose a half hour.
Connected? Not quite. International calls were barred. “You didn’t ask,” they said, ignoring and denying the clearly marked “yes” in the box ticked “International Calls” on the application form. “Pay SR1,000 at the bank.”
“Wrong bank,” said a helpful official when I tried to pay at the bank STC specified. “The other one.”
“You can pay in the ATM,” said an equally helpful official at bank No. 2. “Ah,” he said, “you have no account at this bank.”
The only bright spot in the whole sorry story came from a very courteous young bank official at the Al-Rajhi bank. He offered to pay on my behalf with his personal card if I would refund him in cash. I doubt if that would happen anywhere but Saudi Arabia and he should certainly get a medal. When he accessed the account number STC sent by text, the ATM said that the account number did not exist. All the kind intentions of the bank official were for naught. “If you bring us a bill, we can help,” he said. Unfortunately, with an account that doesn’t exist in the ATM, a bill is going to be a problem.
The shop (40 minutes queuing) and customer service advised that the National Commercial Bank could solve the problem. Yet again, the account did not exist in their computer either. “Bring us a bill.” Ah well, we’re back in the loop. The “free” conversion cost a number of man-hours for the Saudi Telecom Company staff and the potential client, hard cash and the loss of a potential account customer. The stress and frustration for the customer is incalculable but a real cost to reputation.
A top STC official was quoted as saying that “the entry of Etisalat will not affect his company’s market share.” I beg to differ. With this level of service, confusion and unwillingness to accept responsibility for their own inefficiency and mistakes, STC is setting the scene for a mass exodus of customers. It is the best marketing campaign a competitor could wish for. Moreover, two players in one market halves the customer potential for each. But then customer service, bills and numbers seem not to be STC’s strong point just now.
