View from the stalls - A Day In The Life Of A Hawker
Whoever said
being an informal trader was easy, clearly is not one. Ask any hawker how, and
under what circumstances her/his day starts, progresses, and ends, and you will
be gob smacked by their responses. Formal workers on average rise at 06h30,
have a full breakfast and leave home to arrive at their places of work before
08h00. Informal workers on the contrary and on average rise at around 04h00,
eat on the run, and arrive at their places of trade at around 05h30.
Her taxi ride
into town is never comfortable. Cramped in a mini-bus taxi with 17 others, plus
2 china bags of stock, at her feet…for which she had to pay a fee, arriving at
her destination is in itself a mercy. But, Gladys’s day has hardly begun. The
makeshift shelter which barely covers 2 square meters is rather tattered and
offers little guarantee against the elements.
The trading
area is beset with challenges. There is no lighting, or running water.
Suspicious characters lurk in the shadows. There is no security, and the area
reeks of stale urine…no siree bob, this is certainly no mall. But it is close
to the transport nodes, and that is important. Her table is an old interior
door which she chains to a nearby tree at the end of each day and retrieves
each morning. Her trestles are 2 milk crates, and the top is covered by a faded
threadbare cloth that she’s had for years.
She sets
about placing the hats, gloves, and scarves neatly alongside the ethnic bangles
and hair accessories. On one side she has a bit of fruit, courtesy of a fruit
and veg trader nearby who pays her a commission on fruit sales. Indeed, every
bit helps. Arriving this early exposes Gladys to early morning commuters and is
perhaps her best chance of making sales. The next best time for her is between
16h30 and 18h00 when commuters pass on their way home. Any sales between dawn
and dusk is regarded as a bonus.
She’s had
thefts before, particularly when she has had to use the municipal ablutions
which are situated 300m away. Her trading neighbor is unable to fully monitor 2
stalls successfully, and that often creates opportunities for theft.
Thankfully
it’s summer and Gladys can trade until 19h00. There is no rain and she is able
to trade 6 days per week. The weather is moderate and she is relatively
comfortable, apart from literally hanging on to her stall during the howling
south east winds. Her goods, tied down to her table top by elastic ribbons.
Winter is
something quite different. Trading is at the mercy of the elements. Sunrise is
around 07h00, so she leaves and returns home at the darkest of hours. The rain
is her nemeses. Her plastic covering does little to enhance or protect her
goods, and commuters are rushing by to get out of the rain. A sudden deluge
breaks the plastic. Gladys rushes to open her umbrella and desperately covers
her stocks, but alas her hats are soaked. Tonight, she will place them near the
brazier to dry. The day’s takings barely cover her traveling expenses!
No siree bob, it’s not an easy life but she survives, for she must. Her three school-going children depend upon her, and the neighbor who takes care of them while she is away needs to be paid! There are many like Gladys who eke out their existences, but it’s what they do. So, the next time you see or pass an informal street trader, spare a thought, it could be Gladys…
~ By Q-squared.