I seldom buy fruit or veg from vendors at intersections.
I don’t have any particular reason or objections. It just so happens that I tend to buy everything I need all in one go from one singular store.
But recently I found myself waiting at a red robot in Lansdowne, looking at a young man offering me a delicious box of mangoes.
Usually I would politely decline and carry on. But something about this guy made me roll down my window to ask for a price.
He said R100, as the robot changed and I could hear his disappointment, but I told him to get me after I turn the corner from Chukker into Turfhall Road.
As I was getting money out of my pocket, he started his sales pitch about the pack of litchis in his other hand.
Long story short, he convinced me and I ended up R200 poorer, but looking forward to the juiciness of my favourite fruits once I got home.
But here is actually why I am telling you the story, because at that point I looked at him and said playfully: “I bought your last stock. Are you happy now?”
He responded: “I don’t make a lot on this, so I’m grateful. Thank you. Have a happy new year.”
His politeness and sincerity hit me right in the feels and I found myself thinking of him afterwards.
A young man who faces all the horrible temptations of the Cape Flats, is choosing to run between cars on an intersection, selling fresh fruit to mostly dismissive motorists, and making only a few rand per sale.
And then still having to deal with Metro police who we demand must execute their duties to uphold municipal by-laws that criminalise what he does.
There is a lot to admire about that young man, especially in times when everyone is either struggling, or desperately worried about possibly falling on hard times.
Laws are of course important and I support most of ours.
But I believe lawmakers should also be flexible and nimble enough to adapt to times like these, when it is so easy to lose our humanity, as we battle to hang onto our livelihoods.
We can’t be a city that only supports and encourages entrepreneurs in flashy suits gunning for formal offices.
Inclusivity, by definition, means we must make space for everyone, including subsistence vendors, who ply their trade where they feel they can make the most profit.
I appreciate the concerns, but they can’t possibly outweigh compassion for our fellow citizens and their struggles.
What I am arguing is, if the by-laws are inhumane, then they must be changed.
Oh and by the way, the litchis and mangoes were even more delicious than they looked.