Young female traders’ quest for viability in Zimbabwe's politicised urban spaces

ABSTRACT

This article analyses the viability struggles of young female traders in Harare, Zimbabwe. It makes a conceptual contribution to debates about viability, which captures how young people connect and pursue aims across diverse life domains (referred to as ‘thinking and acting across’), by addressing gender and generational power dynamics. The article demonstrates how young female traders in Harare are thinking and acting across the domains of work and politics in a context of urban authoritarianism, by negotiating the challenging economic conditions and ruling party-aligned brokers that dominate the urban spaces in which they sell their wares. Based on over two years of qualitative research, which continued during the COVID-19 pandemic, the study shows how gendered expectations around young women's voice and presentation in public affairs shapes the agency of female second-hand clothes traders. The wider context of economic crisis, exacerbated during the COVID-19 pandemic, deepened the precarity of the traders, requiring young women to defy lockdown measures. However, their agency with respect to challenging (‘acting against’) law enforcement and political brokers remained constrained. We argue that gendered power dynamics intersect with notions of youth in the Zimbabwean context and infuse authoritarian politics, creating attempts at viability shaped by risk calculation.

KEYWORDS:

• Viability
• gender
• informal traders
• authoritarian politics
• Zimbabwe

Introduction

A vast scholarship has demonstrated the importance of the informal economy to urban youth in Sub-Saharan Africa, and their agency within it (Banks 2016; Kamete 2006; 2008; Langevang and Gough 2017; Mate 2021a; Thieme 2018). While studies have demonstrated the experiences of female informal traders, with gender relationships influencing level of earnings, safety and mobility, among others, the experiences of young women have received limited attention (Adama 2020; Irankunda and Van Bergeijk 2020; Langevang and Gough 2012; Njaya 2016; Thieme 2016). Yet, intersecting inequalities based on notions of youth and gender influence the agency of young female traders. Furthermore, while some studies have addressed how youth need to navigate politics and patronage relationships in the informal economy, there is a limited understanding of the gendered experiences of such political dynamics (Di Nunzio 2014; Oosterom 2019).

Addressing this lacuna, our article uses Jeffrey and Dyson’s (2022) framework of ‘viability’ to analyse the agency of young female traders in Zimbabwe, and advance it by addressing gender and generational dimensions. According to Jeffrey and Dyson (2022, 4), rather than just surviving, young people are developing an encompassing approach to creating ‘proper’ viability, by connecting and pursuing goals within different life domains, which they conceptualise as ‘thinking and acting across’. This framework lends itself to the analysis of agency of female second-hand traders, because the ruling party, the Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front (ZANU-PF), sustains an urban patronage economy, with partisan brokers deploying coercion (McGregor 2013; Oosterom and Gukurume 2022). Hence, viability struggles need to be understood by focusing on the relationship between the domain of work or politics and address the socio-cultural context that shapes the agency of young women. We argue that notions of youth and gender intersect, shaping young women's viability struggles across domains of politics and work in Zimbabwe's idiosyncratic contexts. As such, this article makes a conceptual contribution to the framework of viability; and contributes to scholarship on urban informality in Zimbabwe, which has paid limited attention to gender (Mate 2021b).

The article is based on qualitative research conducted between 2019 and 2021 at second-hand clothes markets and surrounding streets in Harare. The study asked how young female traders build a viable life in authoritarian contexts, thus foregrounding their agency. The findings show how gender relations and interactions in markets shape young women's agency in politicised urban spaces. The young female traders are ‘thinking and acting across’ work and politics by deploying tactical agency, mostly complying with authority to protect their trade. The very movement and materiality of the trade shaped young women's viability during the lockdown imposed in response to the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, because it increased their economic vulnerability while it simultaneously reconfigured street politics involving different political brokers.

The first section of this article explains how notions of youth and gender in the African context can extend the conceptual framework of viability. The subsequent section will contextualise the study for Zimbabwe, explaining how the informal economy flourished amidst authoritarian politics. Thereafter, we present research sites and methodology followed by analyses of power relations and dynamics in markets, and the gendered agency of respondents in ‘thinking across work’ and politics. The next section demonstrates the impact of the lockdown in 2020 on the politics of the streets and deepening precariousness. The final section argues that the very act of trading demonstrates young women's agency in ‘acting against’ regulations and lockdown measures, while their agency in terms of ‘acting against’ male authority remains constrained.

Gender, politics and youth agency in quests for viability

The urban informal economy is of great importance to urban youth across Africa. A rich scholarship has demonstrated youth agency within informal economies: their ways of getting by and getting ahead, and their aspirations around future mobilities (Dawson 2021; Hansen 2008; Langevang and Gough 2017; Thieme 2013). This focus on youth agency for (future) livelihoods is motivated by existing notions of youth. Departing from a definition of youth that emphasises the transition to economic independence, Durham (2004) argues that ‘youth’ is first and foremost a relational term located in power inequality. She argues that notions of youth are used to determine whose voice counts and who gets silenced, and whose claims are legitimised. In Zimbabwe and across the African continent, gerontocracy undermines the autonomous voice of youth, with those considered as ‘youth’ expected to be subdued towards senior authority (Adebayo 2018). For young women, social hierarchies based on notions of adult seniority intersect with gender inequalities. Consequently, their voices are marginalised more than those of young men, and their agency is more constrained. Yet, debates often implicitly assume youth as male (Bucholtz 2002; Munive 2010); precluding an understanding of the agency of young women in response to economic exclusion and political marginalisation.

Youth is a socially constructed category with societies adopting different milestones that mark the transition to social adulthoods, while milestones often include transitions to economic and financial independence (Blatterer 2010). Unemployment, low wages and lack of (employability) skills are intractable impediments to achieving social adulthood for especially young males, generating academic debate on a ‘crisis of youth’ (Schumann 2012, 536–537; Shepler 2010, 629–630), the ‘politics of limited entitlements’ (Di Nunzio 2017) or ‘waithood’ (Honwana 2012, 2019; Schumann 2012; Shepler 2010). ‘Waithood’ underlines the period of youth as extended moratoria on attaining social adulthoods, forcing young people to be creative in economic activity and political expression. Africa's protracted economic crises have challenged men's ideal role as providers. To rehabilitate their diminished or devalued masculine identities, some respond with anti-social behaviour and develop violent masculinities, while others simply try harder at getting ahead in life (Cuvelier 2014; Hollander 2014; Munive 2010; Silberschmidt 2005). These reactive masculinities are especially poignant when men engage in ‘women's work’, including in informal trades (Agadjanian 2002; Overå 2007).

Like youth, gender is a social construct comprising of notions masculinities and femininities, norms and expectations, roles and (appropriate) behaviours. Gender systems affect and are affected by the actions of social actors as they may reinforce or challenge notions of gender (Connell 2009). Gender-based hierarchies and inequalities characterise all social settings, including (informal) workplaces, with young female workers working within a patriarchal economy (Al-Dajani et al. 2019; Overå 2007). Especially young women have limited political voice to challenge unfair, indecent and sometimes harmful working conditions (Hlatswayo 2019; Oosterom and Gukurume 2022). In the urban informal economy, gendered power inequalities between male and female traders may negatively influence women's physical vending locations, levels of earnings, their safety and mobility, and their financial inclusion (Adama 2020; Irankunda and Van Bergeijk 2020; Njaya 2016). Studies on the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic have demonstrated the gendered impact on female informal traders, with some losing a sense of agency and control when confined at home (Guha, Neti, and Lobo 2022; Ogando, Rogan, and Moussié 2022).

Nonetheless, young women do have agency, which is defined by feminist scholars as the ability to make strategic life choices on issues that affect one's wellbeing and interests, and can be exercised by individuals or groups (Kabeer 1999). Some women choose informal work over formal employment as it grants them the autonomy to fit work around other responsibilities (Millar 2017). Female vendors have advocated for themselves and others to secure their rights (Pólvora 2015; Sharma and Konwar 2014). Some challenge dominant forms of masculinity and patriarchal structures in the economy (Al-Dajani et al. 2019; Roos 2019). However, circumstances may require women to deploy tactical agency: short-term responses to societal structures and unforeseen circumstances, rather than strategic agency which entails envisioning the future and taking action towards aspired for state of affairs (Cornwall 2007; Utas 2005). Yet in some instances, trades might grow and networks expand, transforming tactical agency into strategic agency (Cornwall 2007, 29).

While the importance of social relationships in which informal traders are embedded has been recognised (Thieme 2016), the ways in which the politics of the informal economy shapes their agency is less understood in authoritarian regime settings. Political actors influence local labour markets by acting as patrons or brokers, managing certain trade networks and providing access to opportunities, sometimes creating violent patronage relationships (Agbiboa 2018; Dawson 2014; Di Nunzio 2014). Writing about young men in Addis Ababa, Di Nunzio (2017, 96) notes that viability did not mean ‘success’ but ‘what they [the young men] could realistically hope for in a landscape of power relations that they could not navigate effectively’, which rationalises tactical agency. For Zimbabwe, Oosterom (2019) shows how youth calculate the political implications of accessing work through politicians associated with different political factions. Confronting political actors may come with risk and traders need to focus on material gains (and losses), rather than their emancipation (McGranahan 2016). Few studies have explicitly addressed women's experiences of such political dynamics and responses.

To analyse the agency of young female informal traders in urban Zimbabwe, we use Jeffrey and Dyson's notion of viability. Jeffrey and Dyson (2022, 3) argue that research on youth agency overlooks how young people ‘think across’ different life domains to determine their actions. Viability, therefore, entails strategies of coping with multiple, intertwined crises (Jeffrey and Dyson 2022). Jeffrey and Dyson build on Hage (2009), who asserts that many marginalised populations rebuild lives out of crises and even pursue a ‘proper’ viability by connecting multiple economic, social, and environmental objectives. Jeffrey and Dyson (2022, 4) extend Hage’s (2019) conceptualisation with the notion of ‘ecosystems of practice’, which refers to the movement of materials and activities across various domains of life. Developed as a framework for analysing how young people are ‘thinking and acting across’ different life domains, Jeffrey and Dyson (2022, 4) emphasise that young people's practices are often aimed at ‘maintaining some measure of independence’ and may critique some inequality, captured by the term ‘thinking and acting against’. Thieme (2018), for instance, underscores that ‘the hustle’ by informal traders in Nairobi is a form of resistance because it defies rules and social expectations around employment; and Dawson (2022) argues that South African young men refuse low-wage jobs as a critique of precariousness and racialised inequality.

The concept of viability enables analysis of materiality (the trade in second-hand clothes), connections between the domains of work and politics, and women's agency. We shall extend Jeffrey and Dyson's framework through the analysis of gender and generational relations that shape viability struggles in a context of authoritarianism.

Youth, crises and informal trade in Zimbabwe

In this section, we situate the viability struggles of young female traders, who work in the second-hand clothes trade, in Zimbabwe's multiple concurrent crises. At the micro-level, we shall argue, female traders negotiate the prevailing gender order, and the gerontocratic and authoritarian practices exhibited by the political brokers that control vending opportunities in Harare.

Zimbabwe's Independence in 1980 ushered in a period of hope and aspirations for inclusive and equitable development (Government of Zimbabwe [GoZ] 1981). Compounded by policy contradictions, a historic drought and the HIV pandemic, the economic structural adjustment programmes (ESAPs) implemented from 1991 to 1995 led to economic crisis. As a ruling party, ZANU-PF was increasingly challenged for corruption and its coercive politics (Sachikonye 2002). Socio-economic crises deepened in the late 1990s and 2000s, with deteriorating international relations, worsening unemployment rates, hyperinflation and decline in service provision (Dorman 2016). Surveillance and repression became commonplace, especially after the formation of the country's main opposition party in 1999, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC)¹ and its successive electoral victories in cities (Dorman 2016; Makumbe 2006; Sachikonye 2012). The economy stabilised under the unity government (2009–2013) but deteriorated after ZANU-PF won the 2013 elections as the government faced economic constraints of high debts and ensuing currency crisis, while failing to implement sound fiscal and economic policy amidst corruption scandals and elite accumulation (Raftopoulos 2014). Initial hopes of improvement following the 2017 coup that ousted President Mugabe evaporated after ZANU-PF's 2018 election victory. Protests were met with repression. A reform package could not reverse the economic downturn, especially as predatory-accumulation by political-military elites was sustained; and the COVID-19 pandemic deepened economic crisis (Helliker and Mazarire 2021; Nyamunda 2021).

The urban population had rapidly expanded following waves of deindustrialisation, declining agricultural production and rural poverty. The urban informal economy expanded accordingly (Chikulo, Hebinck and Kinsey 2020). Zimbabwe became a ‘nation of vendors’ from the early 2000s (Mlambo 2017), offering livelihood opportunities to urban youth especially (Kamete 2006; Tom 2023). Some informal economy activity border on illegality, as captured by the colloquial Shona epithet ‘kukiya-kiya’ which refers to unspecified, creative and sometimes illegal tactics to get by, including smuggling, manipulation of rules and corruption (Jones 2010; Mlambo 2017, 115). Reflecting broader African trends of deindustrialisation and decline in manufacturing, Zimbabwe's domestic textile production declined after ESAP. Thereafter the trade in second-hands clothes (‘mabhero’ in Shona) flourished in conditions of kukiya-kiya (Brooks and Simon 2012; Sachikonye 1999). The volume and profitability of the trade in second-hand clothes remains undocumented (Brooks 2013). The trade epitomises the discontents of globalisation and informality, reflecting layers of postcolonial inequalities. It resolves ‘clothing poverty’ in the global south, but wearing cast-offs is perceived as dehumanising. The trade reflects the disposal of mass waste; a by-product of mass consumption in the global north, which magnifies inequities of economic liberalisation (Abimbola 2012; Brooks 2012; Hansen 2003).

The legality of second-hand clothes trade in Zimbabwe is ambiguous. Zimbabwe banned the import and transportation of sealed bales of clothes in 2015 to protect local industries (a claim challenged by Brooks and Simon (2012) who point at historical and structural causes of stalling domestic industries). Although possession of a sealed bale is a criminal offence, once bales are opened, the contents are no longer illegal. Sealed bales of clothes are smuggled mainly across Zimbabwe's borders with Mozambique. Street vending is illegal, but Statutory Instrument 159 (2014) allows registered traders to trade at designated sites and markets, and pay council levies (HCC 2014; Mwonzora 2022). Illegal street traders encounter repercussions by law enforcement, and the periodic evictions can be accompanied by violence (Kamete 2008; Musoni 2010). While government ministers occasionally make pronouncements to reinforce the ban on the import of second-hand clothes (The Herald 2020; The Newsday 2015), implementation is intermittent.

The trade is furthermore influenced by authoritarian politics that reflect broader trends in urban politics in Zimbabwe. Since the electoral successes of the MDC in urban areas, ZANU-PF has selectively and strategically used patronage, surveillance, repression and legal manoeuvring to subvert MDC-dominated city councils (McGregor 2013; Muchadenyika 2015). Markets are sites of urban, ruling party patronage, with ZANU-PF brokers (referred to as ‘space barons’) granting access to vending spaces in exchange for real or feigned support to ZANU-PF (Ndawana 2018; Oosterom and Gukurume 2022).

While youth agency within the informal economy has been noted (Tom 2023), few studies address gendered experiences of agency, which requires an understanding of gender in Zimbabwe. Women's participation in both the private and public spheres continues to be restricted as a result of patriarchy and gender norms (Bhatasara and Chiweshe 2021; Ranchod-Nilsson 2006). Other studies highlight women's agency in negotiating patriarchy and influencing male authority (Jackson 2012; Tiernan and O’Connor 2020). Due to ruling party patronage, young female traders encounter mostly male brokers and patriarchal and gerontocratic power, as few brokers are female. The relationships between male brokers and female traders must be understood against the historical-political context in which the ZANU-PF regime blended its strategies of repression with gerontocratic and patriarchal practices, themselves strongly interconnected. Faced with urban opposition, ZANU-PF came to see urban youth as a threat. The government developed a range of strategies to attract and co-opt the youth through incentives and coercion (Maringira and Gukurume 2022; Mate 2012; Oosterom and Gukurume 2019). Between 2000 and 2016, curriculum changes intended to instil a sense of pride in local customs, patriotism and respect for elders based on the notion of unhu/umunhu (Shona for Ubuntu²) were implemented (Matereke 2012; MOPSE 2015). By evoking ‘African traditionalism’ and ‘respectability’, political elites cite neo-traditional familial relations to justify gerontocratic and patriarchal privileges they enjoy, while youths are presented as juniors who must serve and obey elders (Masunungure 2011). Jaji (2020, 79) argues that youth inside ZANU-PF are aligning their interests with those of ZANU-PF seniors that dominate the party, generating what she calls ‘gerontocratic masculinities’. As we shall demonstrate, gerontocratic practice and gender dynamics conflate and shape women's agency when working in politicised urban spaces.

Research sites and methodology

Research was conducted at two urban markets and surrounding streets in Harare’s high-density area of Mbare and adjacent factories, between 2019 and 2021. Mupedzanhamo is the older site, located near hostels that previously accommodated male migrants. Its name refers to ‘the place of poverty eradication’, as it emerged in the wake of ESAP (Kamete 2017). Mupedzanhamo became the hub of second-hand clothes trade. The neighbourhood of Mbare has seen heated political contestations between ZANU-PF and MDC, including the involvement of violent, ZANU-PF-affiliated militia in and around Mupedzanhamo market (Kriger 2012; McGregor 2013). The second site was a relatively new market, called Coca-Cola for its proximity to a beverage manufacturer. A roofed market structure was under construction. Traders were mostly using makeshift stalls and only some had stalls in large tents.

We conducted 86 qualitative semi-structured interviews with young male and female traders in age 18–30.³ Interviews were conducted in Shona. Where possible we returned to the same respondents several times, which enabled the creation of rapport. For this article, we rely on interviews with four female respondents to illustrate conceptual arguments in the foregoing, two from each market, while male interviews were used to examine market politics. The background of the young women introduced here reflects the conditions of our broader sample of research participants. All names are pseudonyms. Laiza, 26 years old in 2021, lived with her parents and siblings in a peri-urban low-income residential area. She specialised in maternity and babywear because she felt these are always demand. Laiza contributed to living expenses, but claimed her parents did not expect her to. Jessie, aged 30 years, had separated from her abusive partner. She lives with her two children in rented accommodation in a poor peri-urban, residential area. She sells women's clothes. Maida was 23 years, single with no children. She lived with her parents, who were also traders and her role models. They had managed to buy a plot and built a house in a middle-income residential area. Shamiso, aged 26 years, was single and – against social conventions – lived on her own rather than with relatives, in a rented room in a low-income area. Maida and Shamiso sold a range of products including children's clothes. For privacy, we interviewed the traders outside of the market. In between interviews, we sat at stalls and helped to sort clothes, did observations and had informal conversations. During the COVID-19 lockdowns, we resorted to periodic phone interviews. We resumed fieldwork in August 2020 when restrictions were lifted.

The gendered relationship to market politics

While formally run by the MDC-dominated Harare City Council, Mupedzanhamo and Coca Cola markets were considered ‘ZANU-PF turfs’. Market leaders referred to the markets as ‘owned’ by ZANU-PF, and the traders called market leaders ‘ZANU-PF agents’. Being a well-established market, Mupedzanhamo's market committee had been in place for many years. The market committee had full control over the entire market including deciding over who can access to stalls, and it monitored order and cleanliness. It occasionally mediated with the city council. At the Coca Cola market authority was more fragmented. Leaders of four to five groups of traders’ ‘associations’, which had operated in central Harare before the market's establishment in 2017/2018, competed for space. Each controlled different sections of the market. They had named their quasi-associations after liberation heroes, suggesting an alignment with the ruling party. Leaders of the two largest groups competed for leadership positions when a committee was to be established. The city council only managed one section without interference from these leaders. To access a stall, one had to ‘register’ with these quasi-associations, or the city council.

Members of Mupedzanhamo's market committee and leaders of the quasi-associations at Coca Cola were all adult males, and were effectively operating as ‘space barons’ and political brokers. Other than allocating stalls, they collected fees on top of council levies. This violated council regulations, yet traders felt compelled to pay fees as market leaders claimed allegiance with ZANU-PF officials ‘higher up’ in the party. At Coca Cola, one could pay USD 150.00 (negotiable), to get a stall in addition to weekly levies. At Mupedzanhamo, a highly lucrative market, informal fees were higher. Here, stall ‘owners’ sublet ‘their’ stalls to traders. At both markets, market leaders operated various storage facilities where traders stored their wares overnight for a fee. The storage facilities were guarded by young men who worked for market leaders. Market leaders also mobilised traders to attend ZANU-PF activities like party meetings and ceremonies on Heroes Day and Independence Day. At Mupedzanhamo market, the attendance of these functions had been strictly enforced during the Mugabe era. Traders who failed to attend were subjected to surveillance and punishment, risking suspension and/or expulsion from the market. Coca Cola market leaders were less successful at political mobilisation due to their fragmented authority. Thus, while market traders could operate without facing police harassment, they were subjected to coercion by market leaders.

Most female traders were afraid of the market leaders and especially the young security guards, whom respondents referred to in diminutive terms as ‘boys’. The ‘boys’ collected weekly fees in pairs or trios, calling for reinforcement when a trader had no money. Several of them consumed cannabis, mbanje (marijuana) and alcohol, and could be aggressive . Women complained about the young men's violent dispositions, but had to rely on them as they needed storage facilities. While the authority of senior male leaders in the committee and association leaders was underpinned by both patriarchy and gerontocracy, the ‘boys’ presented gerontocratic masculinity by aligning themselves with these seniors reproducing their power by threating with violence (Jaji 2020). Furthermore, our respondents explained that leaders and their young security guards were, or claimed to be, working undercover for state security agencies and were part of the low-intensity surveillance apparatus (McGregor 2013). Our respondent Laiza cautioned ‘ … [W]e really never know what people are up to … .’. Consequently, the ‘thinking and acting across’ livelihoods and politics by female traders like Laiza involved the careful performance of ZANU-PF loyalty to secure access to stalls, avoiding conflict with volatile guards whose real and imagined power apparently stretched to the state apparatus, as we shall now elaborate.

When we first met Laiza, she was introduced as a member of the ruling party. The informant who introduced her said ‘ … (U)yu mwana wemusangano … Musamukanganise … Handidi zvinondinetsa … ’. (‘This one is a child of the party … Do not confuse/bother her … I do not need problems’). When asked which party he was referring to, he said ‘Musangano unotonga’, the Shona phrase commonly used to refer to ZANU-PF. The metaphor of a parent–child relationship between ZANU-PF and its supporters, in this context, has multiple meanings. Genuine supporters use it to signify their loyalty, being beholden to and guided by party leadership. It is used with reference to familial and gerontocratic notions of power, referring to Liberation heroes as ‘fathers’ and ‘mothers’ of the nation, whom young people must respect and defer to. The familial epithet also suggests caution against outsiders who might dissuade supporters away from the party. Indirectly, the informant introducing Laiza had implied that our questions might turn Laiza away from the party, which could bring both her and the informant into trouble.

The women in our study presented themselves carefully, which signifies their agency for viability as well as prevailing constraints. Because of fear of ‘the boys’ and committee members, Laiza and others claimed affiliation to ‘the’ party (ZANU-PF), ‘musangano’. With committee members embodying not only patriarchical but also gerontocratic power, especially young female traders like our respondents, felt the need to comply. Despite the fact that Laiza was referred to as ‘a child of the party’, she subsequently denied being actively involved in ZANU-PF. She explained that:

… I cannot lie, there are things one does to survive … with the harassment we face, one ends up thinking that supporting ‘the’ party could help. But then we get disappointed.

Compliance with party activities offered Laiza protection against losing access to her stall. Maida and Shamiso were embedded in local ZANU-PF cells at Mupedzanhamo and regularly attended their meetings. Occasionally, they received food (cups of rice), or fabric wrappers with ZANU-PF colours. Maida said that although four cups of rice is very little, she appreciated the intentions of leaders of the party to share the little they received. Another woman recalled:

Once one lady [at a meeting] refused ZANU-PF wrappers. She went through serious reprimands. She was summoned for interrogation about rejecting the fabric. You just have to accept what they want, because if you refuse, you are questioned and suspected of belonging to the opposition.

Besides attending events and accepting regalia, traders were forbidden to talk about the opposition party, and to critique ZANU-PF and the President. Laiza elaborated that ‘it was unheard of’ for vendors to openly declare whether they were members of the opposition. Laiza explained that doing so was ‘zvinonetsa’ (‘it stokes problems’). She cautioned:

[T]alking too much … [better to] mind one's stall and work. If you talk too much or try to represent others … you will encounter some challenges. (added emphasis).

Here gendered constructions of femininity shape women's agency as women should not ‘talk too much’, which means complaining, asking many questions, raising one's voice and/or demanding accountability from elders. Young female traders observed this norm especially in relation to senior market leaders and the security guards. Defiant women risked threats of verbal abuse, humiliation or loss of stalls. While aware that levying informal fees was illegal, the women were afraid to report to the city council or question leaders directly. Many female vendors, therefore, remained quiet about abuses and extortion. They feigned ignorance, or at most gossiped with close friends. ‘Talking too much’ extended to social media: although WhatsApp chat groups for vendors and leaders exist, these were used for announcements rather than discussions.

Jessie reiterated Laiza's arguments with her experiences in her quasi-association, which we call the Revolutionary Tent (RT). The female leader of RT had more than 10 stalls. She claimed to be married to a senior government official. Jessie and colleagues assumed that her husband was in the ruling party. The RT leader mistreated traders in her section by unilaterally reallocating stalls probably to increase fees, among others. Once she had allocated a stall to someone from ‘her workplace’ which Jessie thought of as ‘some government agency’. When the two had a verbal argument, accidental disclosures unmasked the RT leader's lies about her marital status. Furthermore, the RT leader had cheated three new members, who were not conversant with logistics of importing bales. The RT leader collected a total of USD 470.00 yet the goods never arrived. When the vendors enquired about their purchases, the RT leader dared them to report to the police if ‘displeased’. A police report was out of question because importing second-hand clothes is illegal. Eventually, the vendors gave up, losing money and their stalls. Despite finding out about the RT leader's lies, Jessie and her colleagues did not report her. Jessie maintained that the city council was fully aware of the extortionist practices, but chooses not to act. About reporting to ZANU-PF, she argued that:

… [T]he association] leaders are members of that party too. It is even scarier to report [to ZANU-PF] because of the risk of being unmasked as the whistle-blower … . That could mean more trouble … .

Interviewer: So, you are afraid to report lest you lose your stall?

Jessie: That is the scariest part … .

Asked how vendors learn to deal with space barons’ abuse, Jessie answered that vendors learn to be ambivalent by observing fellow traders, seeing how those who tried to question the leaders were humiliated. Sometimes, vendors warned each other that it is better to focus on the business and secure a stall. This vignette illustrates the agency of both female traders and brokers. The RT leader used the pretext of marriage to a ZANU-PF official to extort money from vendors with impunity, while being in a transactional relationship as a mistress, while Jessie feigns loyalty to the party and refrains from critique to secure her trade. She needs to ‘think across’ work and politics and family as a single mother.

Overall, challenging brokers, or ‘acting against’, is highly constrained in this context, and even gossip was perceived as risky. While we had overheard male traders joke and express themselves critically about both ZANU-PF and market leaders when among friends, most women opted for silence and compliance. Resistance, if expressed, was subtle. It was common to see female traders wearing wrappers with ruling party colours. While this could mean that someone is a ZANU-PF supporter, it was also a tactic to feign membership and secure access to vending stalls. Yet, if used to protect against dirt, wearing wrappers could even be a form of ‘everyday resistance’ (Scott 1985) or ‘everyday activism’ (Chatterton and Pickerill 2010). Confrontational forms of resistance, however, appeared to be too risky, Asked how she would respond if invited to a march for vendors’ rights, Laiza said:

I value my life … Those actions can lead to arrests, injuries, one can get killed … Whenever such situations arise, I would rather go home … even when they tell us to pack and attend a rally, … I go home.

Thus, gender hierarchies and politics exacerbated the precariousness of the trade. Our respondents carefully considered how to relate to market leaders as female traders whose voices can more easily be regarded as out of line if deemed defiant. Because their survival depends on access to stalls in the market, they mainly resort to tactical agency to retain access. The next section demonstrates how lockdown measures in response to the COVID-19 pandemic caused new challenges.

COVID-19 dynamics: deepening precarity

When the COVID-19 pandemic reached Zimbabwe in March 2020, it overhauled the ‘ecosystem of practice’ (Jeffrey and Dyson 2022) of female traders. We show how the materiality of the trade itself – from illegal vending to their very fabric – affected the traders through rising prices, a currency crisis, rumours about contamination and securitisation of Harare's streets. Market politics were reconfigured anew, opposition-aligned brokers emerged around Mupedzanhamo, the old committee lost relevance as the site was renovated and rezoned as a car park while market leaders at Coca Cola asserted their authority by implementing COVID-19 measures. These dynamics altered – and in many ways deepened – the precarity of female traders (see also Zhanda et al. 2022).

The government of Zimbabwe announced a full lockdown to curb the spread of COVID-19 on the 26th of March until mid-July 2020. Designated markets were closed, abruptly ending the trade for our participants and precipitating new tactical agency (see also Kiaka et al. 2021; Tom 2023). The lockdown measures led to a securitisation of the city as armed police and soldiers established checkpoints across Harare. The Minister of Industry and Commerce, Dr Nzenza, announced that the government would curb the trade in second-hand clothes, referring to both potential health risks as smugglers and traders did not comply with COVID-19 prevention protocols (The Herald 2020). Taking advantage of the lockdown, the government demolished all vending stalls in undesignated places in Mbare from mid-April 2020 onwards. Meanwhile, rumours about the potential contamination of second-hand clothes with the COVID-19 virus generated discomfort (Zimfact 2020). Our participants shared videos that circulated on social media, with one even suggesting that the clothes had belonged to deceased COVID-19 patients and subsequently shipped to Africa. The disruption of global supply chains, increased surveillance of cross-border trade including smugglers’ routes led to price increases of bales. For example, before the lockdown, Laiza paid USD 100.00 for the lowest grade bales of 45kg⁴ and USD 20.00 for transport. This increased to USD 120.00 and USD 35.00, respectively. Hyperinflation and parallel currency systems caused further challenges, which Jessie referred to as ‘the money situation’. While officially the local currency is the only legal tender, the second-hand clothes trade is a ‘US Dollar trade’. Black market exchange rates are starkly higher than official bank rates (Zikhali 2022), and traders learnt to peg their prices on the USD and monitor fluctuations in foreign exchange rates. Participants reported decreases in sales and many lived off savings, while exploring alternative ways of selling (see also Tom 2023).

The lockdown directly impacted market authorities, albeit differently at each market: quasi-association leaders at Coca Cola asserted themselves, whereas Mupedzanhamo's committee dissolved. Events unfolded as lockdown restrictions were partly lifted in August 2020 and markets could reopen if certain hygiene measures were implemented. At Coca Cola, the leaders of the quasi-associations joined forces, parcelling out sections amongst themselves. They procured a fence, installed improvised handwashing equipment with detergents, and purchased thermometers for temperature checks, as required by the city council. Association leaders told traders to contribute USD 10.00 per person to purchase materials, or risk losing their stalls. Traders felt disgruntled, believing they had paid more than necessary. Jessie had seen the ‘boys’ mixing cheap local brands of dishwashing liquid with the hand washing water; and even if expensive, imported brands of dishwashing liquid had been purchased, it did not justify the required contribution. None of the traders, however, demanded an explanation out of fear. Elaborating on the violent disposition of the ‘boys’, Jessie gave the example of a fellow vendor who demanded that the committee accounts for the contributions. The boys bullied her and told her she could either pack her merchandise and leave, or the boys would pack up for her. The boys threw some clothes on the ground, leaving the woman humiliated in front of her peers. The woman stopped asking questions to avoid actual suspension from the market.

At Mupedzanhamo, amplified tensions between the ruling party and the opposition when the market was closed for renovations (Oosterom and Gukurume 2022), which subsequently disempowered the previously powerful market committee. Vendors aligned to the MDC ejected from Mupedzanhamo by the ZANU-PF aligned committee in 2013 when the coalition government ended, returned to re-claim their stalls and making their demands a condition for opening the market. Tensions escalated into a fight. Harare City Council declared the market would only reopen when non-partisan stall distribution was established, which was resisted by the partisan actors involved. The impasse pushed traders into the streets of Mbare, now as illegal vendors. Within weeks, streets and yards of adjacent hostels were filled with makeshift stalls.

Previously disenfranchised young men now became new space barons on the streets, precipitating new street politics. The streets offered these actors opportunities to be ‘somebodies’, which involved dominance over young female traders. By April–May 2021, rival groups of space barons controlled different streets and junctions, levying fees from the vendors operating in ‘their’ spaces. The most dominant groups claimed allegiance to the opposition. Some older women, who had historical roots in Mbare, claimed sections of streets without interference from young men. Young women, however, could not claim to any space.

Agency and viability struggles

In this final section, we demonstrate the defiance of rules and lockdown measures by traders, who continued their trade illegally. They were navigating law enforcement by paying bribes and escaping eviction campaigns, whereas they had limited space to truly ‘act against’ them. They also had limited power to ‘act against’ the extortion practices by new street-level brokers due to the need to sustain their trade during the lockdown.

Following the lockdown, some of the trade shut down while some relocated into residential areas, where traders sold from homes, on WhatsApp networks, and car owners used their car boots as mobile stalls (see also Toriro and Chirisa 2021). Leaving her merchandise in informal storage at the Coca Cola market, Jessie went to stay with her mother during the first lockdown so she would no longer need to pay rent. Laiza sold from home in the outskirts of Harare. She had to contend with police patrols and their insistence that vendors stop selling at 3pm when human traffic increased. Afraid to be beaten or fined, she complied with the police orders. Like many others, Shamiso defied restrictions and came to Mbare to sell clothes, facing running battles from the police every day. Vendor tactics entailed displaying only a few items and keeping most in backpacks. When police arrived, vendors quickly packed and ran. Traders arrived early in the morning while riot police came later in the day. Bribing the police and military officers, albeit a drain on stretched incomes, was another way to prevent harassment and sustain the trade.

Meanwhile, traders had to negotiate the new politics of the streets around Mupedzanhamo. Performing allegiance to the ruling party was no longer the best strategy for viability. Maida pointedly said that she had not noticed anyone wearing ruling party colours. She said:

It is best to be cautious about party colours in this part of town. It is advisable to come here to sell only. [This place] is not amenable to being a political activist … 

Like other traders, Maida knew the uncertainties of illegal street vending in non-designated spaces, but earlier tactics were no longer effective. Thinking across trade and politics was evidenced in views of. Shamiso felt nostalgic about past assurances and outraged about the new space barons who did not give vendors anything and were apparently not doing much to end the impasse about the closure of Mupedzanhamo market: ‘MDC does nothing. [They have] no rice. No regalia … Yet we are paying’. Their views reflect a notion of trade politics as transactional, whereby one follows political actors if they provide resources and livelihood opportunities.

Maida and Shamiso expressed frustration with the relatively high fees without commensurate services: USD3.00 per stall per day, even for exposed and dusty overcrowded space. The MDC ‘boys’ possibly earned USD1800.00 per month from 20 vendors. Emphasising their alcohol and substance (ab)use, Maida complained about the new space barons’ violent dispositions. Bolstered by new albeit fleeting opportunities to earn money, the rugged and assertive masculinities of the boys left female vendors feeling deeply insecure. Female vendors’ entitlements were not clear as stalls were unilaterally subdivided and reallocated. Spaces were overcrowded. The young men were harsh to vendors who could not pay daily fees; and had allegedly beaten some traders.

With worsening economic conditions, stories about space barons and female traders engaging in transactional sex emerged (see also Tom 2023). Women who had difficulties paying fees were offered ‘other arrangements’. Distancing herself from the practice, Maida said she had never encountered requests for sex, but was aware that some female vendors exchanged sex for stall fees. Maida insisted that even though transactional sex is unethical, she could not report it to city authorities, arguing:

… .[W]e don't have authority to report such things … We are not allowed to talk about such things … Who do you report to, honestly?

Again here, Maida obliquely refers to norms of feminine propriety of not talking too much. Maida still hoped the council would intervene. She also did not want to report to ZANU-PF leaders, emphasising that as a ‘child of the party’ and also a young woman, she needs to respect presumably considerate and benevolent elders:

Ahh, (expressing surprise) I cannot go … . At my age, I cannot report these matters. We have older persons who lead us. They should go. They owe it to us … . [added emphasis].

Other women tried to evade brokers wanting transactional sex by relocating, reflecting agency in navigating male dominance without challenging it.

Conclusion

This article has demonstrated the multiple power inequalities that perpetuate the precarity visited on female traders and how inequalities shape female traders’ viability struggles. Although markets are critical for their survival, their assurance for viability varies across socio-cultural, political and economic contexts (Agadjanian 2002; Cornwall 2007; Overå 2007). While female informal traders in other contexts use confrontational strategies to claim their rights (Pólvora 2015; Sharma and Konwar 2014) or challenge patriarchy in the informal economy (Al-Dajani et al. 2019; Roos 2019), female traders in politicised urban spaces in Harare face multiple constraints to ‘acting against’ in terms of confronting and challenging those in positions of power. Many of our respondents were new entrants, buying and selling one bale per month and still learning the trade and dealing with political brokers. Their agency, albeit tactical, is evidenced in their focus on survival through retaining access to stalls, by not confronting the changing cast of political brokers. Silence, indifference and feigned party support and compliance with changing market rules and leaders constitute their repertoires in agency in responding to shifting street and market politics, reflecting ‘transactional activism’ (Matebesi 2018). Discursively, these women pushed back by referring to young male brokers as ‘boys’, indicating refusal to give them respect: a nuanced resistance and form of political action indicating actors’ aspirations.

On the other hand, trading in undesignated, illegal spaces reflects defiance of law enforcement. To navigate the volatile economy, female traders learnt to monitor exchange rates and pegging prices to the USD thus preserving the value of their incomes. They made small profits on volume, rebutting Brooks (2012) argument that in Mozambique the trade locks vendors in poverty because of currency volatility. While precarious, the trade offers a degree of autonomy, endorsing conclusions by Millar (2017) and Thieme (2016) about the need to negotiate and sometimes transgressing gendered expectations. Respondents could, however, hardly challenge power relations. As much as their precarity was produced through unequal social relations like patronage systems, traders also seek and to some extent realise viability through these relations.

The outcome for young women is a necessity to deploy tactic agency and ‘think and act across’ their trade and urban politics, negotiating the power of political brokers that are (assumed to be) connected to higher-level, powerful actors within the ruling party. They do so from a position of marginality informed by notions of gender and youth, so aptly captured by the phrase ‘being a child of the party’, hence being compliant rather than ‘acting against’, afraid to antagonise senior leaders but also younger male actors who display entitled and violent masculinities (Cuvelier 2014; Jaji 2020). Their agency in thinking and acting across work and politics is therefore underpinned by risk calculation and their own understanding of gendered agency within this. The framework of viability thus enables the analysis of power dynamics within and across life domains, as both shape the possibilities for agency. This resonates with Thieme’s (2013; 2016; 2018) work on ‘the hustle’, which revealed the agility of traders and their embeddedness in social relations, and Di Nunzio's (2014) study on the politics pervading the informal economy. The framework of viability, contributed to understanding agency of traders by addressing their gendered agency in this specific context of authoritarian politics in Zimbabwe. Longitudinal research is needed to track changes in market dynamics, female vendors’ strategies with age, growth of trades, incomes and experience and to see whether or not traders achieve ideal viabilities in Zimbabwe.

Research ethics statement

Ethical approval for the implementation of this study was granted by the Research Ethics Committee of the Institute of Development Studies (IDS), at the University of Sussex.

Acknowledgements

We express our deepest thanks to Tinotenda Chishiri, Dr Simbarashe Gukurume, and the Research and Advocacy Unit for their role in the study. We also thank the two anonymous reviewers for their helpful feedback on an earlier draft; as well as the editors of this special issue.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

We gratefully acknowledge the funding from the Economic and Social Research Council (ES/S000127/1) for this research.

Notes

1 As result of intra-party and leadership rifts, the MDC split into two parties in 2005 named after their leaders: MDC-Tsvangirai (MDC-T) and MDC-Ncube (MDC-N).

2 Ubuntu is derived from the Zulu phrase "Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu’ (I am because we are) and refers to African humanist philosophy that emphasizes community and social bonds (Murove 2012).

3 UN definitions of youth usually use 14–24. We selected the age group 18–30, because few urban traders are under 18 and interviewing minors increases ethical risk. Most were under 25, whereas older participants were interviewed to better capture historical events.

4 Second-hand apparel is graded into three grades A, B and C based on subjective constructions of quality. Prices vary accordingly although some warehouses in Mozambique or their agents do not declare or fudge the grades to make more money.