Many moons ago, a relation drove a truck to Kinangop, loaded it with cabbage - secured on the cheap from farmers eager to part with their produce - and drove to the farmers’ market in Nairobi, popularly known as Marigiti.
There, he was met by kabuti-wearing men. “Who invited you to supply the vegetables?” they asked. He shrugged. Ours is a free-market economy, isn’t it? “Who asked you to supply cabbages here,” the men repeated, an edge of irritation creeping in their voices. He was ordered to leave.
He drove away, uncertainly, wondering what would happen to his perishable goods. Over the next few days, he pitched tent at different estates around Nairobi, desperately calling on passers-by to buy his cabbages, his tenor growing more desperate with the passage of time.
By the time the entire stock was sold, his prices had plunged to lower levels than the Kinangop prices; just to avoid his wares rotting away.
This is the challenge that I understand Deputy Prezzo Rigathi Gachagua aka Riggy G wants to deal with, once and for all, by ridding of an entity called “broker.” It’s a problem as old as mankind, and it’s very well entrenched in our society.
In high society, they are called influence peddlers, their claim to fame being that they know people who know people and can secure their cooperation with the right inducement. A more sophisticated variant of this character becomes a tendeprenuer.
Another friend was busy enjoying a drink when a broker approached him. Are you the owner of that vehicle, he posed, pointing to an SUV in the parking lot. Somebody wants to buy your car…
The long and the short is that a farmer had sent the broker to inquire about the prospects of swapping the SUV with some two acres of land in a rich, agricultural area. The deal with so enticing, my friend agreed to it. It’s only when the broker brought the paperwork that his heart sunk. The broker was getting three acres out of the deal!
Good luck, Riggy G! I’m sure you have picked useful lessons from the brokers in the coffee sector.
