Watching SIL run her chicken business over the weekend got me thinking about the
impact of a small, labour intensive business in a rural area.
Basically, she runs her chicken business from my house, housing the live
chickens in the coops we have and with retail customers coming over to
either of our houses to buy (we live around 7km apart), depending on
who's closer.
She has one fulltime employee responsible for caring for the chickens
and 4 part-time workers working twice a week on rotation, slaughtering,
defeathering, cleaning and packaging around 100 chickens per session. However,
instead of getting paid in cash, they are paid with chicken heads, feet
and entrails, which mainstream customers wouldn't want but are
extremely popular with the locals.
The deal is you get
the parts of all the chickens you can defeather. The casual workers
prefer this deal rather than cash because you can keep your family fed
for days/weeks if you have food security issues, or you can clean,
package and sell the parts for a good rate. There is a huge demand for
these parts and SIL doesn't want to get into that end of things because
it's too labour intensive and there is no hope in hell she could keep up
with demand. And when a customer begs to have the parts, we hook them
up with the casual worker they work out a deal between them. The casual
labourer sets the price because there are usually 5 other people who'd
buy them without blinking if they were offered to them. A lot of them
are city people who grew up rural areas and miss the "delicacy" and are
willing to pay well for them.
So the casual labourers
are actually small-time enterpreneurs who make an average of R150 - R200
per day (on days they worked). Not a fortune, but much higher than
government-mandated minimum wage and higher than the farmers' union were
demanding during their strikes.
Unintended consequences
But
the casual labourers are not the only ones who've started
micro-enterprises from SIL's small business. Chatting to the customers, I
found that yes, the majority are general consumers who prefer freshly
slaughtered chicken instead of the general supermarket product. But
among them are a number of resellers, who have their own small
businesses in surrounding villages (Phokeng is made up of twenty nine
villages).
There are also a couple of enterpreneurs
who buy the chicken from SIl to resell in Pretoria, Joburg and Mahikeng,
having come to her by word of mouth. While their trade wouldn't
necessarily have a huge impact on them, they make enough extra cash to
make it a worthwhile sideline for them.
And then there
are the street food vendors who sell food at the bus ranks near the
mines and in town. Some of them hardly have cash flow to stock up
properly, and usually come over at the end of the day and use their
proceeds to buy more chickens for the following day. These street food
vendors are what got me thinking, because until SIL started her own
business, they had no business at all. And now they have a small source
of income. An unintended consequence, but a lovely one nonetheless.
Watching
this also made me think about the impact investing in small businesses
can have on rural communities. Sadly, not enough of it happening here in
Phokeng. It would
make such a big difference if government stopped their useless political
rhetoric and actually invested in small businesses without the bureacratic nonsense that made people I know give up on their help and start up on their own. That would benefit
not just the business owner, but the community as well.
And now I'm off my soap box too:-)
P.S.
We had a lovely weekend. Mma was up and about ( and I took more naps
than she did, which tells you how strong she's getting). We had family
coming in and out, had a braai on Saturday and best of all, I actually
started writing creatively. I also harvested my first batch of green
beans from my Autumn crops. It was just lovely.
This post is cross-published on my writing life blog, Storypot.
Great blog yyou have
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