By Admore Mbonda in Kariba
Under the scorching Kariba sun, Maria Nhada Chioniso Masunda arranges her tomatoes and onions with quiet determination.
Her stall at the Mahombeko Vegetable Market is modest — a few crates, some shade, and hope. But behind her warm smile is a story of survival that mirrors the struggle of thousands across Zimbabwe.
“Last year, I could go home with $50, even $100 on a good day,” she says.
“Now? If I make $10, I count myself lucky.”
Masunda is one of countless street vendors in Kariba fighting to make ends meet amid Zimbabwe’s ongoing economic turbulence. As formal jobs disappear and prices soar, vending has become more than a hustle — it’s a lifeline, especially for women like her.
From Office Desks to Pavement Stalls
Masunda didn’t always sell vegetables. Like many others, she once worked in the formal sector. But when jobs dried up and inflation spiraled, the marketplace became her only option. Now, her days are long, unpredictable, and often thankless.
“We start early, finish late, and still don’t earn enough to cover food, rent, or school fees.”
The unregulated nature of vending makes the hustle even tougher. With more people pouring into informal trade, competition is fierce — and profits are shrinking. Vendors battle over space, pricing, and customers, while struggling with poor infrastructure and lack of basic services.
When Raids Replace Regulation
There’s another danger lurking in the daily grind: the authorities.
“We live in fear of raids,” Masunda says, her voice tense.
“One moment you’re selling, the next your goods are seized — sometimes destroyed.”
Government crackdowns on street vending, often framed as efforts to “clean up” public spaces, have led to widespread frustration. Minister of Local Government July Moyo Garwe recently acknowledged the crisis, calling for a more balanced approach to managing informal trade.
“We understand the challenges vendors face and are working on policies to help them thrive,” he said.
But vendors remain skeptical.
“We’ve heard the promises before,” Masunda sighs.
“What we need is protection, not punishment.”
A Community Built on Grit
Despite the hardships, a quiet resilience binds Kariba’s vendor community. Through informal networks, they help each other survive — sharing resources, watching one another’s stalls, and offering support when tragedy strikes.
“We have no choice but to stand together,” says Masunda.
“It’s the only way we get through each day.”
But it’s not just the vendors who suffer. Their children feel the weight too. Some are pulled out of school to help sell goods; others are left unattended for hours while their parents work.
The Call for Change
Organizations like VISET (Vendors Initiative for Social and Economic Transformation) are urging the government to stop treating vendors as a problem and start recognizing them as part of the economic solution.
They propose practical interventions:
Safe vending zones
Affordable licenses
Training in business skills
Access to healthcare and social safety nets
“We are not asking for handouts,” Masunda says firmly.
“We want a fair chance to work and live with dignity.”
A Crisis With a Human Face
As Zimbabwe continues to grapple with economic uncertainty, the stories of street vendors are a stark reminder of the human cost. These are not just statistics — they’re mothers, fathers, and breadwinners holding families and communities together with almost nothing.
Kariba’s streets may not offer much comfort, but for vendors like Masunda, they represent both struggle and strength.
“We’re not lazy. We’re just trying to survive,” she says, adjusting her crates as the afternoon sun sets.
“And we’ll keep showing up. Because we have no other choice.”
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