Harassment of hawkers is no way to fight poverty
July 2, 2009
By Nontyatyambo Petros
In most of the developing world, city streets are routinely turned into sites of confrontation and intimidation as police try to clear away hawkers. Images of a recent showdown in Johannesburg's inner city assail me: women running with crates laden with fruit and vegetables; potatoes, cabbages and tomatoes strewn over pavements; idle young men ready with makeshift push carts to stash some of the goods away; vendors calling out a warning of looming danger to their peers further down the street.
All this happened last week, while a metro police minibus crawled down the grimy street and officers patrolled the pavements, sending hawkers into panic.
Such raids are not only an indictment of a government that won elections on a pro-poor ticket, but also a blatant infringement of the traders' constitutional right to earn a living.
Last Thursday's confrontation was also a major exercise in futility. As soon as the police vehicle drove past a block, traders further up the street simply retrieved their goods and set up shop again - a perverse kind of Mexican wave.
The courage of street vendors notwithstanding, the work is arguably the most vulnerable career after prostitution.
Because the central government is conspicuously silent on this vexing matter, it is up to every municipality and province to determine its own by-laws to regulate street trading. The inadequate regulation opens vendors up to all sorts of problems: from paying bribes to avoid arrest and confiscation of their goods to sourcing finance at exorbitant rates and braving the occasional student demonstration.
Moreover, they have no social security protection, and marauding gangs of criminals prey on them. In some cities the privatisation of law enforcement puts vendors at the mercy of security companies, which grant or revoke permits on a whim. Vendors have no option but to use public spaces as their workplace, with virtually no toilet or storage facilities, and no protection from the elements.
The reality is that these are people who, were it not for vending, would be consigned to an abyss of joblessness, poverty and misery. Most are illiterate and have no skills to take up any of the half a million vacancies in South Africa's public and private sectors. Yet they have to feed their families. Fortunately for those with prized assets, they have not resorted to crime. Yet.
Whether city officials like it or not, there is a market for the goods sold by hawkers, especially among the urban poor.
And with the thousands of jobs that have been lost in this economy, alternative ways of earning a living have to be found. The low barriers to entry and small start-up capital requirements make hawking one of the first options.
Hawkers are not about to quit for the sake of "aesthetically pleasing" streets, so imaginative and innovative solutions must be found. There is a clear need for the sector to join the mainstream economy.
Lessons can be learnt from other countries, notably India, where an estimated 93 percent of jobs are in the informal economy and urban planning has had to accommodate street vending.
In his State of the Nation address last month, President Jacob Zuma reminded us of his government's pledge: "For as long as there are workers who struggle to feed their families and who battle to find work; for as long as there are women who are subjected to discrimination, exploitation or abuse; we shall not rest and we dare not falter in our drive to eradicate poverty."
Mr President, this is as good a place to start as any.
|
|
