Female vendors: unsung heroines of their families

A tale of resilience unfolds in the city centre of Bulawayo where ordinary women, armed with nothing but their wares and indomitable spirits, navigate the streets to eke out a living. The women, many of who are single mothers, have become the unsung heroines of their families, defying the odds to ensure their loved ones’ needs are met.

Irene Nhambire stands among them at James Court. Her resolve is unwavering.

“What keeps me strong and highly motivated to wake up every day reporting to the streets is to make sure that my family gets food to eat every day, and that rentals, school fees and all bills are paid,” she says.

The prohibitive cost of formal vending sites, such as the US$90 demanded by the Bulawayo City Council at Egodini, forces her to remain in the informal sector, despite the looming threat of city council crackdowns.

“When the operation is on, we run,” Irene admits, revealing the precarious nature of their daily hustle.

The solidarity among the street vendors is tangible, as they band together in “playing” clubs, a communal banking system that sees them sharing their earnings equally at month ends — a demonstration to their collective spirit and foresight.

Another vendor, who elected to be unnamed, shares her story of partnership and perseverance.

“I am my husband’s right hand helper, therefore I wake up with him every morning to part ways in town when he will be leaving for his work and I will be coming to sell my (bhero) second-hand clothes,” she said. Her entrepreneurial spirit selling second-hand clothes has seen her buying a car.

Noncebo Nyathi (22) stands firm on the pavement at 9th Avenue and Herbert Chitepo Street, her young voice echoing the sentiment of self-reliance.

“As a single mother I make a living solely out of vending. School fees, rentals and my needs as a woman lean on money from vending, although sales are not uniformly certain. An average of US$100 is expectable in a month,” says Noncebo.

Grace Tshuma (27), who operates on the pavement at Nedbank in Leopold Takawira Avenue and Joshua Nkomo Street, specialises in children’s wear and speaks of empowerment through self-sufficiency.

“In my approach, there is nothing impossible as I am firmly self-sufficient from vending. I am managing to take care of my two kids who are going to school and to offer three meals to my family everyday out of this.

“The fact that I am a parent keeps me strong and determined to make sure my life and my kids’ lives won’t be shameful and anchored on coveting other families,” says Grace.

Dazline Masukume (24) who is not just a friend, but a fellow dreamer alongside Grace, spoke about the drive that propels them forward. They share a common goal: to expand their ventures and one day trade from their own shops.

“We are looking forward to growing our businesses and being able to rent shops where we will be selling from. Some people look down upon us as vendors because they think vending is next to being destitute, but as for myself and my friend, vending is our way out of poverty.”

Dazline also touched on the grim reality of employment, or the lack thereof.

“Nowadays, employment is water under the bridge and even when one manages to secure a job, the salaries are too low to cover the cost of living and meet all of life’s demands.”

Violet Manatsa (40), a vendor stationed opposite the High Court, shared her plight as a single mother in the vending field.

“It’s getting hard for me to pay for their fees as I am barely getting enough money to cater for rentals and properly feed my children due to the effects of drought.

“Three of my children are going to school. It’s getting hard for me to pay their fees as I am barely getting enough to cater for rentals and properly feed my children. I will keep on vending though in order to try and balance my shaky life,” she said.