Every coin counts in slum ‘kadogo’ economy

By John Oywa

Droplets of sweat streaming down his brow, the owner of an open-air kiosk served his lunchtime clients with soup in plastic mugs and pieces of meat sliced from roasted cow hooves.

Meshack Mwangi’s "Roho Safi Hotel" is one of the more than 100 food kiosks that dot the sprawling Mukuru Kwa Reuben slum in Nairobi.

His dingy eatery, which he assembles and dismantles after serving lunch is a scene to behold. Giant sufurias laden with roasted cow hooves and matumbo (tripe) form his ‘hotel’ while his clients sit on stones around him. His menu, written with charcoal on a cardboard hung on a pole, is as comical as it is ugly. It features items like, mguu ya ngombe-Sh10, kichwa ya mbuzi, supu na ugali- Sh5.

To an outsider, the Mukuru food stalls, erected alongside stinking sewerage trenches are an open health hazard. Yet it is these cheap food kiosks that offer a lifeline for the over 700,000 people who live in the three Mukuru villages of Kwa Njenga, Kwa Reuben and Kaiyaba.

"There is plenty of food and it is cheap. There is a food kiosk everywhere, selling anything from boiled maize and beans to porridge and potatoes," says John Mburu as he enjoys chapati and soup.

The tiny shops competing for space everywhere in the slum have flexible prices that support what economic experts call the Kadogo Economy.

Feed a family

A survey by The Standard found out that while many Kenyans may find Sh50 almost worthless, the amount can feed a family of five living in Mukuru for two days.

"Cheap food is the secret that keeps slums dwellers alive. We live in pathetic social and environmental conditions but we don’t go hungry. With ten shillings, you can eat a good meal. You can buy soup and chapati or ugali," said a hawker who calls himself Sherif.

To prove his point, Sherif forked out five shillings to buy a dish of omena (dry sardines) for his lunch. "I have some flour in my house and I will only need another five shillings to buy cooking fat and one shilling for a tomato and lunch for my wife and three children is complete," he said happily.

Charcoal seller Margaret Nyambura, a widowed mother of four, used Sh100 we had given her to shop for food and household goods that would last her family three days.

Her priority was cooking oil and maize flour, which cost her Sh20 and Sh10 respectively. Each was measured in portions to fit her money. She bought twenty spoons of sugar worth Sh15, although in lean times she can get a small ration for Sh5. She bought tea leaves worth 15 and Rice worth the same amount, then left the rest for sukumawiki (kales), tomatoes and onions.

Everything is sold according to the amount of money one has. Things that go for one shilling include one slice of bread, five match sticks, a spoon of tea leaves and sugar, half a spoon of cooking oil, a quarter candle stick and a slice of bar of soap.

Indeed, one bakery based in Industrial area now supplies half and quarter loaves of bread to Mukuru slums.

Nyambura pays Sh700 rent for her one roomed tin house which she shares with her two grown-up daughters and two younger ones. Most houses measure 10 by 10ft in size and go for between Sh700 and Sh1,500.

Nyambura and her children also use about three 20-litre jerrycans of water per day worth Sh5 each.

But 34-year-old Dennis Mwangi is better off. A father of two, he owns a small shop and sells clothes while his wife sells potatoes and sukuma wiki.

"I have a monthly income of Sh7,000 and it all goes to food, rent and school fees," he said. He is among the few Mukuru residents who can afford to take their children to private schools in the slum.

"I live at a small room behind my shop and pay Sh2,500 for both facilities. I pay cartels who supply power here Sh300 per month," he said. He pays Sh1,700 per term for his daughter who is in Standard Seven.

Mwangi stocks goods he knows are affordable to the locals. Instead of selling expensive mattresses, his shop is stocked with a type made of grass and polythene papers which cost only Sh130.

Woe unto those who forget to budget for the cost of answering calls of nature.

"We have a few functional pit latrines here and they cost three shillings per visit. This means one must have some money all the time. Sometimes, you find yourselves without anything and that is when we resort to flying toilets (using plastic bags and throwing them into trenches)," said Makori.

Paying vigilantes

He added: "There are other costs such as paying vigilantes who provide security."

In most slums like Mukuru items like sodas are a luxury the residents can ill-afford. Only a few shopkeepers stock sodas in Mukuru kwa Reuben.

A walk through the slums revealed that some residents enjoy relatively decent lives, with neat houses, electricity and piped water.

"Those who have butcheries, rental houses illicit brew dens or brothels are the richest," said a resident who asked not to be named.