In 1469, long before “power couple” was a thing, Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I got married. Trust me, these were not lovebirds. There was no candlelit dinner under a chandelier in a five-star hotel, no sweeping declarations of love, and definitely no Instagram-worthy wedding shots. This was business, a well calculated political alliance that united two great kingdoms and created one of the most powerful monarchies in Europe.
Back then, marriage wasn’t about love or butterflies or whatever Disney fantasy we gush over now. Nobody cared how cut your 6-pack was or if your hips made someone speak Spanish. It was a strategic power move. Rich families weren’t looking for soulmates, they were playing financial chess. This was social selection, matchmaking with spreadsheets involved.
Today, social selection still shows you who to date and who to marry. But now it’s all, “Does he work for a bank?” “Does she speak high school English?” and other fairy tales we fuss about. You see, this is the same old social selection with the illusion of love layered on top of this socioeconomic cake. It is these kinds of practices that reinforce social classes and maintain the gap between rich and poor. And that’s where our story begins.
In his 1932 public address, Franklin D. Roosevelt described the largest and poorest socio-economic group as “the forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid.” It is right here, at the Bottom of the Pyramid (BoP), where the psychological and behavioral aspects of poverty come out to party, shaping mindset, self-perception, and ultimately consumer behavior.
People stuck in chronic financial insecurity don’t have the luxury of counting calories in their sweet potatoes or obsessing over the quality of their phone cameras. Scarcity mindset maxes out their survival mode and they constantly focus on basic needs like food. Their life experiences push them to prioritize utility over status.
Another issue is brand perception, a kind of psychological conditioning that makes them buy cheaper brands, not because they like them, but because they feel familiar, safer, and well, “for people like us.” Their loyalty is rooted in psychological comfort, not preference. That’s why buying tomatoes at Chipiku feels like a flex, even though “akasi” sells the same thing for just a few Kwachas less.
This might explain why low-cost medical insurance, like MASM’s Econoplan, often fails to resonate, even with people who could technically afford it. It’s not the price tag; it’s about social identity. BoP consumers’ aspirations are limited by association. Medical insurance? Are you kidding? That’s for people who stroll out of Namiwawa and drive 200-million-Kwacha cars, definitely not for “people like us.”
Marketers are somehow to blame here. They reinforce these mental frames through product positioning without even realizing it. This disconnect only widens the gap between products and their intended audience. Marketing to the BoP requires a completely different playbook; otherwise, you’re just wasting money throwing darts in the dark.
If you want BoP consumers to buy your stuff, it needs to be affordable enough to not hurt, accessible enough so people don’t have to cross four rivers to find it, and reliably available when needed. That’s Affordability, Accessibility, and Availability, the three musketeers of BoP marketing.
Celtel Malawi understood this concept so well that they introduced Mose Walero, a dirt cheap ZTE phone that changed the game. This phone was annoyingly everywhere, vendors were selling it like zibwente on every corner. It was affordable, required no fancy stores, and didn’t need glamorous displays. By the time TNM responded with their tiny, matchbox of a phone called Tiago, Celtel was already soaring with the largest subscriber base, beating the citizens on their home turf.
Unilever gets the gist of it too. Instead of pushing their detergents in bulky packs to BoP consumers, they flood small shops with sachets to maximize availability through numeric distribution. They ensure affordability through the lowest possible price point and increase accessibility by eliminating the need for a supermarket. This model taps into daily buying habits, turning those little sachets into a fat cash cow.
BoP marketing isn’t just about slashing prices and calling it a day. It’s a psychological game. Look, just like in arranged marriages, people in this segment aren’t buying stuff because they’re chasing dreams or riding a dopamine wave. All they want is fit and function. Success lies in blending aspiration with accessibility, affordability, and availability.
So, let’s rethink our “romantic” branding, fancy packaging, emotional storytelling, flashy ad campaigns and instead focus on offering real solutions. Don’t get me wrong, okay? All this blingy stuff is totally fine. But people at the bottom of the pyramid aren’t seduced by charm. All they want is a cheap green soap that smells like damp socks, bubbles with foam, and gets the laundry done.
It’s that simple.
