usiness the man behind the sauce From prison <strong>to</strong> Dragon’s Den <strong>to</strong> multi-millionnaire food magnate, Levi Roots is the ultimate rags-<strong>to</strong>riches businessman. Was it luck that got him there, or shrewd planning? Dominic Bliss finds out. When Levi Roots first came <strong>to</strong> the UK, aged 11, he could neither read nor write. As a young man he did two stretches in prison, one for assaulting a police officer, the other for a drugs offence. Now aged 58, he owns a £35 million food business, built on the back of his famous Reggae Reggae Sauce. A late developer, you might say. And there’s more <strong>to</strong> come. Levi is currently in the throes of launching a Caribbean restaurant chain, with plans <strong>to</strong> open 35 venues around the UK over the next five years, all under the brand of Levi Roots Caribbean Smokehouse. He also records music, has a regular DJ slot on BBC Radio 2 (both reggae, of course), and there’s a new TV show coming in the summer. “I’m quite a busy man,” he says, seated in his maiden restaurant, in east London’s Westfield Stratford City, smiling at his good fortune. Dreadlocks tied back, he’s wearing a navy blue Ozwald Boateng suit (one of three dozen he owns) and enough silver jewellery on his hands <strong>to</strong> choke a werewolf. None of this would have happened if Levi hadn’t been invited, back in 2007, <strong>to</strong> appear on Dragons’ Den, the BBC show for budding entrepreneurs. Sporting a black suit, his trademark dreadlocks, and singing <strong>to</strong> his guitar, he charmed the pants off the dragons, eventually securing a £50,000 investment in his sauce from Peter Jones and Richard Farleigh. (The former is still his business partner while the latter, rather foolishly, allowed himself <strong>to</strong> be bought out.) Within weeks the product was on the shelves of Sainsbury’s, outselling Heinz Toma<strong>to</strong> Ketchup after just a year. “Levi Roots? What a great name. Is that your real name?” asked Theo Paphitis, one of the other dragons, after Levi had delivered his pitch. “No, it’s my pseudonym. My real name is Keith,” he replied <strong>to</strong> all-round mirth. Keith Valentine Graham, <strong>to</strong> be precise, born in Jamaica in 1958, the youngest of five kids. His parents emigrated <strong>to</strong> the UK, leaving Keith with his grandparents. Aged 11, he then crossed the Atlantic <strong>to</strong> join them, moving <strong>to</strong> the family home in Tulse Hill, in south London. Until then he hadn’t even attended school. “I could only write five letters, <strong>to</strong> spell my first name,” he remembers. “But I had this sort of pho<strong>to</strong>graphic memory, I was surprised how quickly I caught up.” That part of south London in the 1970s was rough, <strong>to</strong> say the least. Levi was a bad boy, often in trouble with the law, and twice detained at Her Majesty’s Leisure. It was during the second stretch (on the Isle of Sheppey) that he met someone who would help turn his life around. Her name was Theresa, a drama teacher from New Zealand, brought in <strong>to</strong> inspire the convicts. Levi was inspired more than most. “If I met her now I’d probably have <strong>to</strong> give her half my fortune,” he says, his voice starting <strong>to</strong> break with emotion. “When I think about her I feel I’m welling up with tears. She was an absolute angel. After I left prison I never saw her again.” 24 where <strong>to</strong>, parker? <strong>Parker</strong>_<strong>Issue</strong>_5_Book.indb 24 29/06/<strong>2017</strong> 12:25
where <strong>to</strong>, parker? 25 <strong>Parker</strong>_<strong>Issue</strong>_5_Book.indb 25 29/06/<strong>2017</strong> 12:25