Trevor Donnegal and his wife Andrea. - Norman Grindley /Chief Photographer

TREVOR DONEGAL reclines in an easy chair. He throws his head back and relaxes. He has no reservations telling the unfortunate story of his life - how his assets were completely wiped out by the financial collapse of the banking sector in Jamaica in 1997.

Twelve years on, the real-estate developer is still seething from that mighty blow.

"It was like going downhill in a motor car and you have no brake; everything is just running away from you, and you have absolutely no control," he describes the failed investment that has left him "pauperised."

Like so many entrepreneurs who went bust in the 1990s, Donegal, owner of Trevand Limited, coined after Trevor and wife Andrea, was hit by high interest rates imposed by the government of the day to mop up excess liquidity.

an astute investor

Describing himself as an astute investor who had successfully executed several housing projects, Donegal says that when he ran into debt-servicing problems, he had one townhouse complex - Palermo on Waterloo Road in St Andrew - ready for sale and two others preparing for construction. Palmermo was never sold to recover his investment and he could not get the other two off the ground.

"I borrowed J$65 million from Horizon Merchant Bank and Building Society at an interest rate of 35 per cent. Everything went well until interest rates started to climb. Mine moved up to 68 per cent!" Donegal relates.

"At the same time, mortgage rates were also climbing - from 14 per cent to a high of 26 per cent. This compounded the problem," explains Donegal, who started out selling real estate.

His swift slide downhill began as mortgagors who qualified for loans at 14 per cent could no longer afford the homes he had on the market.

"I was generating interest rates and not selling. It came to the point where I was no longer viable; it was impossible to come out making a profit," says the developer, whose business fell flat.

Eventually, his assets were seized by the Financial Sector Adjustment Company (FINSAC), which was set up by the Government in 1997 to rescue troubled banks and to help restructure loan portfolios.

Donegal was crushed. "Painful," is how he describes the experience.

"I was angry, very angry. But I did not let that anger consume me. I realised that if it did, it would destroy me. I did not want to be on the street tearing up paper and looking up at the sky," he says.

Instead, Donegal chose therapy. He started a farm in St Thomas growing peppers and papaya for export. For five years, he says, he got up at 5:00 a.m., drove to the country, worked on the farm and returned at 9:00 p.m. However, the crops were not as profitable as he had envisioned and successive hurricanes further wiped out his entire investment crops.

The father of three - Marcel, Trevan and Trevor Jr - says currently he does not own a property and has not done any development since 1997. He ponders every day the fact that his assets 12 years ago were four times the amount of money he borrowed, and today, he is worth less than five per cent of his net worth then.

"A lot of good lives were destroyed," he says sadly. At 55, it is a daunting task to literally start over. When I started out in 1976, I said I would retire in seven years, relax and enjoy some life; that was my goal. By 2005, my company would have valued in excess of J$1 billion.

"Even though I am not where I wanted to be, I have never lost focus. I will be out there again, not in construction, but somewhere ... ."His optimism is anchored by the unwavering support he gets from his wife Andrea, family and close friends.

"Whenever I see a glimmer of light, she would brighten it. She gives me the impetus to keep going, even when there is not much to go on," says Donegal.

Lovelette.brooks@gleanerjm.com