People Were Always More Important Than the Company
When I think back today on the Piramedia years, I notice that my memories rarely begin with a contract. Or a computer. And certainly not with a major project. They almost always begin with a face. A smile. A voice. Perhaps that already says a great deal about the man I am. Throughout my life, I built companies.
But what I always sought within them was something entirely different. Bringing people together. It had begun long before Piramedia. First in the world of coffee. Then in the ceramic industry. And finally in the Glass Pyramid. I have always believed that beautiful things can arise naturally when the right people meet.
That is why I loved organizing meetings. Demonstrations. Business lunches. Evenings together. Visits to Italy. Not only to conduct business, but because I knew that trust grows when people truly get to know one another. Italian manufacturers were sometimes surprised by the way we worked. To them, Belgium was a relatively small market.
But as soon as they entered the Pyramid, they sensed that something special was happening there. People worked there. Thought there. Laughed there. Dreamed there. Every visitor could feel it. That made me proud.
Not because it was my company, but because everyone who walked through our doors felt genuinely welcome. That was essential to me. No one who entered should ever feel like merely a number. Everyone was our guest.
Without even realizing it, I had probably learned that attitude from my mother. Her front door was always open. Anyone who entered was first offered a chair. Then a cup of coffee. Only afterward did the conversation begin. I tried to carry that same warmth into my professional life. Not as a business technique.
But because hospitality was a form of respect to me. Perhaps that is why, to so many people, the Pyramid never felt like only an office. It was a meeting place. Sometimes conversations lasted for hours. Not because there was still business to discuss, but simply because no one was in a hurry to go home. That was where friendships were born. Genuine friendships. People spoke about their children. Their parents. Their worries, many of which had nothing at all to do with work.
To me, those hours were never wasted. Quite the opposite. They were precisely the moments when people truly came to know one another. Today, I often hear entrepreneurs speak about networking. Customer relationships. Business strategies. Those are important ideas. But to me, entrepreneurship was always something much simpler. One person must still be able to look another in the eye. The day that disappears, a company loses its human soul. I have always believed that honesty is the best investment.
Not because it produces immediate results, but because it can continue bearing fruit for many years. The trust of others gave me countless opportunities in my life. It even gave me second chances. And I will always remain grateful for that. When I think about Piramedia today, the software is not the first thing that comes to mind. Nor the offices. Nor the technology. I see the people. Marco, enthusiastically explaining a new idea.
Cristina, organizing everything with calm and precision. Our colleagues, willing to remain after working hours when necessary. The Italian manufacturers who placed their trust in us. The architects who came to us with curiosity and open minds. The customers who believed in a young company with great dreams. Together, they tell Piramedia's true story. No company is built by one man alone. Ours was no exception.
Perhaps I laid the first stone. Marco built new rooms. And many other people helped us make that house a place filled with life. That is the truth. It is precisely why I feel no need today to take all the credit for myself. It belongs to everyone who, even briefly, helped transform our dream into reality.
If anyone remembers me later, I hope it will not be only as the man who founded a company. I hope they remember someone who knew how to bring people together. Companies have a beginning and an end. But friendship. Respect. And gratitude... those are the things that truly give meaning to a life.
And if, one day, my grandchildren close this book carrying that very message with them, I will know that my story was not told in vain.