Vendors at the Eldoret Market

UUSC President Charlie Clements writes from Kenya, where he is leading an emergency delegation to assess the political and humanitarian crisis that has engulfed the country in the wake of the flawed presidential elections of December 2007.

It was still dark when we arrived in downtown Eldoret. The city looks entirely normal, no burned businesses. I think that must mean that few downtown businesses are thought to be Kikuyu owned, because virtually every charred home or store along the rural roads that we saw were owned by Kikuyus.

We headed downtown to see the market and meet with vendors who are members of the Eldoret affiliate of KENASVIT, the national association that UUSC has supported for several years. We found our guide -- Julius -- and met his sister, whose stall is next to his. He told us that when he started vending, his stall was on the outside of the market, on the street, where vendors sell their goods on blankets, unprotected from the sun. Over the next seven years, he slowly migrated to the central covered part of the market, where he now has a large wooden stand.

As we toured the market, Julius’s wife tended their stall, which relieved me -- we were not keeping him from earning a living. He explained that as the unpaid president of the 900-member Eldoret Urban Alliance, he taught his wife the business so he could do alliance business. As a group, they’ve successfully negotiated for greater transparency in the licensing of stalls, restrooms provided by the city, pick-up of refuse, security that protects them against theft, electricity in the covered parts of the market, and some water spigots. He is clearly well liked and has a good word for everyone.

There were some unattended stalls that still appeared to have produce. Julius explained that the absent vendors have not returned since the violence. He said on a good day he usually can do 5,000 Ks (Kenya shillings) of business, which is about $70. He said that today he will be lucky to do 500 Ks of business, for several reasons: many people are refugees; many are afraid to be out; and people have less money because so many jobs have been lost.

We went to meet some women vendors who sell large, multipurpose fiber sacks. They approach us smiling and exuding energy. They work on the sidewalk of a street corner, where an Indian merchant allows them to sell their goods in front of his store. Before the Kikuyus became the merchant class after independence, most merchants in Kenya were descendents of Indians brought to Kenya to work on the railways or tea/coffee plantations.

Despite their vending on the sidewalk, the women said the city still collects 30 Ks per day (approximately $0.50) from them, providing no services in return.

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