The Plight of Kenya’s Informal Sector

You may have seen them on the highways of Kenyan urban centers or at estate hubs. From bus parks, to high traffic transit points, downtown, or within the CBD. The informal workers could be sweets and airtime salesmen/women, roadside tree/plant sellers, amateur music artistes, mama ‘fua’, herbalists, cobblers, unemployed citizens peddling made-in-China items to even fake art sellers. All have one thing in common. To sell their wares to by-passers and make a decent wage to survive the day.

At times, on high traffic points, one will not miss them, dangerously standing in the middle of the road peddling all forms and manner of things. Snack food, sweets, cheap dolls, ‘mtumba’ belts, clothing, and masks to name but a few.

These are the hustlers of Kenya.

Classified as persons working in the informal sector, they could be genuinely intelligent but unfortunate citizens trying to make a shilling during the hard times or they could also be robbers reporting for their ‘day’ jobs. Your guess is as good as mine.

Braving the hot sun, they ensure that they entice motorists and pedestrians with their wares; for them to just have a look at.

‘Kuona ni bure!’ they call out.

Others have a jingle. It is a sing-song rap tune. Expressive. Letting the onlookers know the contents of their baskets/wares in less than 10 seconds.

‘Ni ya leo, ni ya leo. Bei ni ya jioni, njugu karanga, sweets, simisim, biskuti; zote ni shilingi tano. Kuona ni bure, chaguo ni lako’. (It is today, it is today. Tonight’s discounted price for groundnuts, sweets, simisim, biscuits is only Kes. 5. Seeing is free, the choice is yours.)

These so commonly known as the ‘juakali’ community, are clearly here to stay. This past year they have been particularly stressed and at times even desperate. They have been disproportionately affected by the pandemic-linked economic downturn, partly because they were more likely to already be in a precarious position, including the fact that due to social distancing their target audience, the working nation, that normally uses public transport is no longer on the streets; produce poor business outcomes.

Another sorry fact is that unfortunately, these men and women’s earnings are not reflected in Kenya’s GDP, as they are largely people who work ‘chini ya maji’ — due to their unregistered businesses.

Moreover, up to today, their work goes unacknowledged and they are not recognized as important players of this economy. Chased by ‘kanjo’ — city council and mostly taken for granted by the ruling class.

The juakali sector also tend to earn lower revenues and are in low-growth, low-revenue or unstable employment such as carpentry, laundry washing services and other menial jobs.

This instability contributes to an overall lower level of prosperity for informal workers. The dwindling of people walking on the streets simply means that they and their families are feeling the economic bite and at times have to sleep hungry.

I dream of the day that Kenyans can see the true potential of the informal sector as a major contributor of the economy.

I dream of a Kenyan ruling class that can correct the economic disparity in earnest.

I hope that one day we may see a trade network that reimagines trade by working with the thousands of ‘juakali’ artisans, hustlers, small-scale traders and farmers with the hope of formalising and supporting their small businesses to thrive.

As a nation, we need to start looking at the possibilities of creating an ecosystem that can hand-hold them to grow out of the streets and into mainstream setups of decent business premises or marketplaces. My hope is that through private and public stakeholders’ interventions, they can create an ecosystem that would legitimize their business, offer training, welfare, quality standards and policies that regulates, scales and even sustains their work.

Critical for this audience, is to ensure sustainable employment so as to guarantee the basic needs such as decent food, shelter, clothing and medical care for their families are met.

The Kenyan government in partnership with relevant industry trade players can afford to do this. After all, Kenyans pay one of the heftiest taxes on the planet yet one doesn’t see much development that directly impacts this sector. The situation is so dire, that we see government coffers channeling funds set aside for development going to corrupt deals and outright embezzlement.

Well, let’s face it. In these harsh economic times fuelled by the COVID 19 pandemic, this selfish mindset by our leaders ought to change. The realisation that trade will even be tougher in the future for our informal sector needs to sink in and pro-active measure need to be put into place to prevent a large population of hardworking Kenyans being driven into poverty.

Who is leading and guiding them through the new normal? Who will fight for them and help them improve their chances of survival?

Whilst the government is paying lip service to donors; investing in self-serving agenda, peoples’ livelihoods are being placed at stake.

I am no expert, but the ruling class ought to do more for the informal sector. Insufficient access to capital, knowledge, and support ultimately leaves many of them less economically mobile and limits the potential of economic growth.

Interventions to tackle these barriers will require public-, private-, and social-sector stakeholders to evaluate current informal business ecosystems and rebuild them to be equitable and more supportive of the thousands of youth, women and persons with disabilities that work in this sector.

I applaud the efforts by marketplaces such as Jumia and Shop Nanjala. These are platforms that are providing the cottage industry and to a larger degree the informal sector with access to markets through digital innovations such as e-commerce and could just be one of the ways to create economic gains; a step forward for Kenyans.