Zimpapers Logo

Petros Ziwengwa
DOWNTOWN Harare is jungle law terrain, where only the most daring – and cunning – survive.
This is where one finds street vendors selling anything from washing powder to toothpaste, and shoes to skin bleaching creams. And, of course, the now standard pirated CDs, rat poison and just about any other item one can imagine.

Vegetable vendors also play cat -and-mouse games with municipal police daily, their wares spread across pavements and disrupting traffic – but somehow all gathered and stashed the instant the latest code word for approaching authorities is shouted.

It is also in this part of downtown Harare that the Speke Avenue Rank, known for its overcrowding, rests.

Hundreds of commuter omnibuses plying the City-Dzivaresekwa and City-Westage routes among many others pick and drop passengers here.

The trip from Westgate to the city costs R5, and conductors and passengers often get into near-fights over change, especially in the morning rush hour, because of the general shortage of coinage in the economy.

Most passengers usually end up being forced to buy fruits, biscuits or needles in lieu of change.

With such challenges come golden opportunities for the many enterprising unemployed Harare residents.

Those quick out of the blocks have started a coin business that many would easily dismiss as unprofitable or a waste of time.

But the coin vendors have begun to constitute a regular feature of this melting pot of hustlers.

Children, mostly school dropouts and those living on the streets, frequent the terminus and undesignated pick-up points to sell coins to commuter omnibus crews and desperate passengers.

The Herald spoke with some of the children, who explained how they do their business.

One of the coin vendors, Brian Motsi of Epworth, said: “Our bosses buy the coins from big supermarkets at a wholesale rate of US$1 for R11. We earn a profit of R1 for every US dollar.”

It is a risky business.

The young boys risk being run over by cars as they outdo each other to get to kombi’s approaching traffic lights.

The coin dealers hang precariously onto the kombis, exposing themselves to untimely death with others sometimes falling and sustaining severe injuries.

Some of them are caught in the crossfire in the ongoing war between police and kombi drivers.

Another coin dealer said they are on a constant lookout for police lest their survival story ends behind bars.

Brian Katona (15) cited the prevailing economic hardships as a major driving force pushing the majority of them into such a dangerous and dangerous business.

“How do you expect us to survive? There are no jobs. We resorted to this business but it has since dilapidated. We can hardly make profit because R10 is now equal to a dollar. We are now experimenting with other businesses that are still workable,” he said.

He refused to mention the alternative ventures but it was clear that selling drugs is another emerging business.

Rufaro Gutu, who claimed to have been robbed of his proceeds, cried as he narrated his current living conditions.

Gutu ran away from his allegedly abusive grandfather in Murewa hoping to find a livelihood in the city.

He is a victim of bad weather. He has no blankets and uses cardboard boxes for comfort and warmth.

“When the business started it was reasonable. We would make a profit of R2 for every R10. We could pocket more than US$5 daily. It was workable. We could buy food and survive,” he explained.

In the past three months the rates have dropped and become unviable  for survival.

Yet life goes on. The business gets more tactical. There is no choice.

“We wake up early in the morning in order to catch kombis at Copacabana and Market Square. We give them R8 for every US$1,” explained Gutu.

According to Gutu, kombi operators usually accept the rate because they desperately need the coins, especially during the morning rush hour.

Some have found better paying businesses to supplement the coin business.

Bruce Makomborero (18), who has been in the business since 2010, now sells boiled eggs as well.

“We usually wake up early and do the coin business. At around 8 o’clock we start selling eggs and buns to the kombi drivers and other people but profits are very low since people do not trust our food,” he complained.

The children who are in these ventures are victims of child labour.

When business is brisk, their “bosses” pay them US$60 per month after bringing in over US$400 per person.

A “boss” can have up to six kids or even more working for him.

Most of the kids come from areas like Epworth and Mbare.

The harsh economic conditions have also roped young girls into the coin business.

The young girls are verbally abused by kombi drivers but seem not to care.

Melody Muponga said since she was allegedly chased away from home by an abusive guardian, the coin business had became her source of income.

“I buy food and other necessities from the money I make. When business started we would make a profit of US$15 and US$20 and my boss would give me US$70 per month.

“Business is low these days. I now earn US$25 a month and this has forced some of us to engage in prostitution,” she revealed.
Some of the coin dealers are vicious, threatening to beat up anyone who interrogates their conduct.

They do not want to be asked questions, and they blame Government for not giving them proper jobs.

“The unemployment rate in the country is very high. Even those educated find themselves doing businesses of this nature. Life has become unbearable and we are here to survive.

“The problem is with the police officers who sometimes milk our hard-earned cash when they arrest us,” said a youth who identified himself as Hogaz.