Longmarket Street: South Africa's Immigrant Entrepreneurs

It’s almost impossible to experience Cape Town, and not seek a memento of your trip, or at least something with which to brag to your friends and family about. I may not have been to many cities in my life to judge, but I dare say that Cape Town is more beautiful than DC… :D. So when Lakeshia and Elisa told us they had stumbled upon a flea market where we could get African souvenirs at very affordable prices, I was very interested in visiting. I reminisced on my days in Lagos’ markets and put on my bargaining armor, ready to score some African trophies at the least possible price. I knew vendors loved tourists because they could always charge tourists double the price of their goods. I kept that in mind, and recalled that women were often easier to negotiate prices with.

Longmarket street is a plethora of artworks, jewelry, accessories, clothing and much more. Most shops carry the same or similar merchandise so it’s easy to find another vendor to compare prices with. It makes bargaining easier and keeps competition high. I expected to see South African women and men showing off South-African goods, but most vendors were from other African countries, like Ghana, Zimbabwe, the DRC and Senegal. After studying about the challenges most immigrants face with employment, I understood why entrepreneurship was a likely option for many. It was likely that Longmarket street was the only survival for these men and women.

I left the market that day with 3 beautiful necklaces, after over an hour of scouting and bargaining. As we walked back to the lodge, we showed off our new assets, also discussing how difficult it was to bargain with these folks. Unlike others, I felt no guilt from bargaining. Call me stingy or economical, but I’m always proud to show off a new accessory I acquired at a bargain. Nazgol explained how she had pleaded with a vendor that she was just a poor student and he should bring down the price for her. He had looked at her and said, “You don’t know what poor is”. At that moment, I felt a pinch of guilt. I thought of my new necklaces and wondered what value my purchase had over the value of the vendor’s sale. For me, it was just another souvenir to keep or give out, but for him, it probably meant another meal or rent.

When I got home, I looked at the necklaces, appreciating how beautiful they were, and deciding then that whoever received them would cherish them and not toss them aside. That day I learned that even though I maybe a poor student, there’s a poorer man at the other end of the merchandise.