In the News

Morocco Swarms with Street Vendors
By Siham Ali 2010-03-21

For many of Morocco's poor or unemployed, selling goods on the street provides a way to earn a meagre living.

Street vendors can be found all over Morocco, from working-class districts in outlying towns to the city centres in Rabat and Casablanca. For these unofficial traders, selling their fish, vegetables, fruit, clothes and other wares on the ground or from handcarts, life is far from easy.

They spend their days hoping to turn a decent profit and fearing that their goods will be confiscated by the Auxiliary Forces. Illiterates, graduates, young and old people, women and men – they all devote themselves to a profession that enables them to earn a fistful of dirhams a day.

In Rabat's city centre, 36-year-old Mohammed sells socks and sunglasses. He hopes to one day have a proper shop so that he can offer his family a stable life. As an informal vendor, he said, he earns between 30-50 dirhams a day.

A law graduate, Mohammed has been seeking a steady public-sector job for over a decade.

"No private company will recruit university graduates, so I've sat several competitive exams, but I've never been lucky enough to pass," he said. "I'm not ashamed of being a street vendor, despite my level of education, even though deep down I really hope for a better life for my children."

This hope is shared by many vendors who would like to see their source of income become more stable. They include women who do everything they can to overcome the hardships inherent in their profession.

One such woman is 44-year-old Rehma, a widow with four daughters aged 8-19. She sells smuggled goods such as shampoo, soap and pyjamas. "I spend all my time on the move buying my goods and selling them to my customers in several cities," she said.
"I would have liked to have a store of my own, but I can't afford it," Rehma said, adding that the authorities ought to take measures to help street vendors instead of driving them away from major roads.

Many people would like the authorities to build shopping centres at strategic locations and rent them at reasonable prices, so as to legalise this kind of informal business activity.

Sociologist Mohamed Kamal told Magharebia that despite the criticisms made regarding the existence of street vendors, the sector does help to maintain a certain socio-economic balance. He says that Morocco should draw inspiration from the experiences of countries that have successfully established legal venues for street vendors.
The government is working to bring more people into the formal economy. On January 19th, Trade and Industry Minister Ahmed Reda Chami told Parliament that an effective way of organising the sector was overdue.

In the past, he explained to legislators, the approach centred on town planning. Premises were built for street vendors in special locations.

The ministry has begun exploring the issue in partnership with local councils and chambers of commerce in order to find a lasting and effective solution, Chami said.

Pride

Today, my manager came to visit my site. I feel so blessed to have been placed here.

I'm also afraid to write blog entries. Last week, I re-read my journal from my 1st year experience in RIM. With my ignorant comments and naivety, I annoyed myself! At least only I know what I wrote there…

So go to my facebook instead. Just uploaded new photos of Portugal, I mean, Rabat. Very under-rated city, if you get off the tourist/administrative track.

Every Day Surprises Me

The night before, I think about what I’m going to do the next day. I don’t know why I keep doing this, because every day turns out to be different.

For example, today I planned on visiting Said’s family because I told him I would last week (but then went to Casablanca and Khenifra instead…more on that later). A member of the wood-working association, he has been so helpful with my wllft-ing (adjusting to life/work at site). I also found a great article with colored photographs of Moroccan woodwork that I wanted to give to him.

Walking to his house, I bumped into a woman in my aerobics class. I didn’t recognize her at first because she was wearing a jellaba and not workout attire. She invited me to her house…

Since it was a rainy, thundery Saturday, I assumed work at the artisanat center would be sluggish. Instead, party planning was in action. Rooms that are usually vacant and dirty were filled with rugs, couches, chairs, and new lightbulbs. Apparently, there was going to be a party at 2pm to celebrate Women’s Day; one weaver from the carpet association would be recognized for her accomplishments. The president invited, actually ordered, me to lunch with his “family.”

His family turned out to be members from the Moussem Association (they plan an annual Horse and Gun Show in town) and a girl from the countryside who was going to ride a horse today, despite the thunder. I was pretty confused with this “party” was going to be like. We feasted on a huge meat platter, powdered sugar couscous plate, and fruit bowl.

Then it was time to pick up the horse. The stable owner asked if I was Mustapha’s daughter.... Kawto, the girl, mounted the horse in her purple velvet jelleba and fine gold jewelry. The horse walked-not trotted/galloped-and we followed via car, attracting a large following of kids through town.



We approached women and kids carrying bamboo poles of scarves and fake flowers. Kawto’s horse put on a dance and energetic clapping ensued. Alhumdullah, I got to watch this event in a car and avoided the rain. The procession paraded around town and ended up at the artisanat center.

I’ve never seen the center so crowded. Bumped into lots of familiar faces and met new ones, like members of a music association—old men reviving the traditional music scene. They played instruments, we clapped, people fought over my attention, and I yelled at sketchy boys. Overall, it was fun (especially in the company of my former neighbors and English-loving lycee girls) and well worth it (since one of the screen-printer’s was there and we made a date to “talk business” tomorrow).

The screen-printer and her siblings walked me to my friend’s house. We meandered through the narrow medina maze avoiding a crazy man. Had delicious sugary tea at my friend Salwa’s house. She added green leaves that neither of us knew the name for in English/French/Darija. Helped her open her hanut, then I visited her sister Turia’s house. Apparently, out-of-town doctors were in town this weekend to help with eye surgeries, and Turia was asked to cater dinner.

I saw the largest cooking pot (it could have fit three of me inside) in my life there at her house. Cookies, couscous, and chicken were being cooked and plated. I asked to help out, but I was told to eat cookies and pastries instead. Okay, no problem!




Turia’s son is no longer afraid of me, which means he loves climbing, hugging, and playing with me. I guess I was there to keep him occupied while everyone else worked. Turia stuffed my bag with so much fruit and cookies to take home…yay for skimming off of the top.

Didn’t go to aerobics today, but I happened to walk by the “gym” just as all the women were leaving. Warm greetings in the rain at night made me feel oh-so-local. We munched on the roasted sunflower seeds my bread vendor gave me for free a few minutes before. After that, I owed my mom a blog entry, and here it is.

I also planned this morning to share a Tahir Shah book I just finished reading (yay bus rides to/from Khenifra). He lives with his family in Casablanca, where I spent the Prophet’s Birthday holiday (aka Feast of Tea and Cookies) last weekend. Stories interest him, and I highly recommend googling/reading him.

So long story short, I still have to visit Said’s house, but I did give him the article and did my Shah shoutout. I’ve been here for almost six months already and something tells me the next twenty are going to fly by.