Closing my company was painful

I never thought closing my company would be such a relief.

Three years ago, about this time of the year, I was preparing the final documents for the very last Annual General Meeting for my company. I was doing so as both the (sole) company director and the CEO. Before that, I had already sent the accountant all the payment receipts, invoices, the company cheque book and other finance related documents for review and to generate the financial statements (to be presented to the stakeholders during the AGM).

The only agenda of the AGM was to accept or reject the closing of the company.

On the fateful day of the AGM, I waited in the appointed room for the other two stakeholders. They were business partners only in name, but legally speaking they were considered stockholders.

There was one particular business partner that I hoped fervently did not appear for the AGM.

When the other business partner arrived, I breathed a small sigh of relief. I needed *this* business partner to appear and that the other business partner to *not* appear.

If at this point you’re thinking that I’m doing some sort of subterfuge, you’re right. I hated to have to do it, but it was necessary because that other business partner had been giving me trouble to no end.

Legally speaking, I needed a majority from the stockholders to approve of the closing of the company before I can proceed to close it. You’d think I have the majority of the stocks but you’d be wrong. I was fairly sure I could convince the amiable business partner to agree, since we’ve already decided beforehand that it was best for the both of us and for the company.

I told my secretary the amiable business partner had arrived. That business partner, my secretary and I waited in the room. 15 minutes passed the appointed time. Half an hour passed the appointed time. I called for the AGM to proceed without all the stockholders present.

I presented to the amiable business partner the financial statements of the company. The partner reviewed the documents, and asked me and my secretary questions, including why the other business partner wasn’t present.

I’m not going to tell you how I managed to get the other business partner to not appear. It’s still painful (even after 3 years) and I hope I never have to do something like that ever again. Well maybe in a future post, I’ll talk about it…

In any case, the amiable business partner agreed to the closing of the company. I closed off the AGM and thanked the business partner for coming. I discussed with my secretary the final document preparation of the closing of the company. Then I left the office.

I don’t remember what I did after that, but I *do* remember the immense weight that was lifted off my shoulders. I might have stood still and shivered. I might have cried a little.

Because it was the first time in a long time that I felt… free.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret running the company. I had to work with the venture capitalist organisation that funded the company project. I had to make payroll (it was sobering to see how much money was draining from the company bank account every month). I learnt to do company taxes and all sorts of company admin work (that only I as the CEO/director could do).

I was also doing consultancy work and running my own private business at the same time. Because I didn’t get paid anything for being the CEO nor being the company director. I was doing the equivalent of three jobs. I had trouble sleeping. I had to sometimes consciously remind myself to breathe because my breaths were so shallow. And my blood boiled every time I thought of that troublesome business partner.

It was not a good way to live.

Next time, I’ll tell you of the heart attack I almost got when the bank closed the company bank account with a final figure that did not tally with that from my accountant.