Shoprite is Solwezi’s only supermarket. A South African export, it’s kind of a blend between Iceland (without the ice) and Lidl. It has an awfully cheap corporate identity that looks like it was designed by a five-year-old, and the colour scheme is particularly bland (red, and shades of). The logo on the building façade reminds me of the faded plastics you find washed up on the beach, which sets the tone for what’s inside the store I’m afraid. They really should have a rebranding exercise.
The store is set right in town. It must have been built near 20 years ago as it is starting to show its age around the edges. You can tell it was built in the time before the mining boom because there are only 25 parking spaces. When you walk in you feel like you’ve stepped right back to 1993 or some other non-descript year, as you stare aghast at the cream walls. And more often than not Dancing Queen is often playing over the sound system, which seems to fit perfectly with the shopping experience for some reason. (There’s something about that chord change before ‘you can dance, you can jive...’ that gets me every time I hear it.) Personal gripes aside, the supermarket is a fairly standard affair, though there are certain sections which require further discussion.
First is the deli counter, which is very popular. There is no wondrous range of sliced meats, foreign cheeses and stuffed olives to peruse over here; there is simply a large selection of fried meats and chips served by large women wearing white wellington boots. You can also get macaroni and rice, just so you know. At lunchtime this is one of the busiest parts of the store as the workers of Solwezi flock here. I stand with my basket in hand and watch a national obesity epidemic unravelling before my eyes. I can see it getting worse as well, especially as the African continent is moving rapidly towards urbanisation. Fewer than 40% of the African continent’s population lived in urban areas in 2009. In the next 30-40 years, it is projected that 60% will be living in urban areas. You know what that means: more people in more towns eating more junk.
Next to the deli counter is the bakery where you can get your bread, your loaf, your duck feed. But only white bread. Even so, I’ve never seen such a voracious demand for it in my life. There are large queues at times and often arguments break out. Queues for cake, on the other hand, are not so dramatic. Though there is a reasonable selection, you’ll never find anything as exciting as a pain aux raisin. I tried a doughnut once, but it was s***. And that is your Shoprite bakery, people.
It all sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it? However, there are two issues that cause this store to become unbearable. The first is that when the end of the month comes (or ‘month-end’ as it’s termed here) the store becomes increasingly congested as people come to stock up for the month. Because this store is the only supermarket in the region, people come from far and wide to buy food and drink. So you get people loading their trolleys full like they are at a cash ‘n’ carry. Queues are ridiculously big at this time and the stock seems to vanish within days. I’ve learnt not to visit the store after its first hour of opening between the last week of the month and the first week of the following month. The management don’t even bother to open extra tills to cope with demand. You start to see baskets full of items left by the tills because people haven’t been able to endure to tedium of the excessively long wait just to buy some stuff.
The other issue is that the store management actually let this happen. There are no rules on how much food you can buy. You get the situation where those who trade on the streets will come and buy all the stock of bread for the day leaving chumps like me staring at empty cages by the time the cocks have stopped cock-a-doodle-doing. You’ll walk in and see by the checkouts a woman with three trolleys full of bread (hence the aforementioned arguments at the bakery). It’s lunacy.
So then there are times when you want to buy something but it’s not there because the stock hasn’t been replenished as it’s been wiped within a day. I learnt this the hard way, but I have now become greedy like all the rest. I once saw some sultanas in stock. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I grabbed five packets just in case I wouldn’t see them again in stock for the next few months. I know...sultanas.
Once you’ve decided enough is enough for today the checkout awaits. If all runs smoothly you will pass through without trouble. Keep your receipt, though, as you have to show it to the security guard from G4S at the exit (pointless). At the exit you are well received by a barrage of young men waving keys at you, shouting ‘Taxi, boss?’ You just have to shake your head and pass the commotion. Once you’ve passed the taxi drivers (all illegal by the way), you face boys selling plastics bags that have ‘Tanzania’ written on them. I admire their resolve considering the supermarket provides you with free plastic ones.
And yet there are more opportunist entrepreneurs. There’s the man who stands in a yellow hard hat selling talktime (mobile phone credit) who I have nicknamed him ‘Talktime’ because that’s all he says; there are the blokes that walk around the car park selling curios tat (no, I don’t want to buy a hand-carved toy elephant or some women’s perfume); and the woman who has a whole showcase of illegal DVDs for you to buy on the first step outside the entrance – Nigerian romcom, anyone? Bilge!
After you’ve left the car park, just ten seconds walk from the store you’ll see people selling products that have been bought inside the store. Those people that bulk-buy. There’s all the bread that should be in the store, fruit, vegetables... All sold with a slight increase in the price. They prey on passers-by and those that do not want to enter the maelstrom of Shoprite when it’s month-end. Zambian microenterprise – you have to admire the entrepreneurial spirit of these people.
The store is set right in town. It must have been built near 20 years ago as it is starting to show its age around the edges. You can tell it was built in the time before the mining boom because there are only 25 parking spaces. When you walk in you feel like you’ve stepped right back to 1993 or some other non-descript year, as you stare aghast at the cream walls. And more often than not Dancing Queen is often playing over the sound system, which seems to fit perfectly with the shopping experience for some reason. (There’s something about that chord change before ‘you can dance, you can jive...’ that gets me every time I hear it.) Personal gripes aside, the supermarket is a fairly standard affair, though there are certain sections which require further discussion.
First is the deli counter, which is very popular. There is no wondrous range of sliced meats, foreign cheeses and stuffed olives to peruse over here; there is simply a large selection of fried meats and chips served by large women wearing white wellington boots. You can also get macaroni and rice, just so you know. At lunchtime this is one of the busiest parts of the store as the workers of Solwezi flock here. I stand with my basket in hand and watch a national obesity epidemic unravelling before my eyes. I can see it getting worse as well, especially as the African continent is moving rapidly towards urbanisation. Fewer than 40% of the African continent’s population lived in urban areas in 2009. In the next 30-40 years, it is projected that 60% will be living in urban areas. You know what that means: more people in more towns eating more junk.
Next to the deli counter is the bakery where you can get your bread, your loaf, your duck feed. But only white bread. Even so, I’ve never seen such a voracious demand for it in my life. There are large queues at times and often arguments break out. Queues for cake, on the other hand, are not so dramatic. Though there is a reasonable selection, you’ll never find anything as exciting as a pain aux raisin. I tried a doughnut once, but it was s***. And that is your Shoprite bakery, people.
It all sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it? However, there are two issues that cause this store to become unbearable. The first is that when the end of the month comes (or ‘month-end’ as it’s termed here) the store becomes increasingly congested as people come to stock up for the month. Because this store is the only supermarket in the region, people come from far and wide to buy food and drink. So you get people loading their trolleys full like they are at a cash ‘n’ carry. Queues are ridiculously big at this time and the stock seems to vanish within days. I’ve learnt not to visit the store after its first hour of opening between the last week of the month and the first week of the following month. The management don’t even bother to open extra tills to cope with demand. You start to see baskets full of items left by the tills because people haven’t been able to endure to tedium of the excessively long wait just to buy some stuff.
The other issue is that the store management actually let this happen. There are no rules on how much food you can buy. You get the situation where those who trade on the streets will come and buy all the stock of bread for the day leaving chumps like me staring at empty cages by the time the cocks have stopped cock-a-doodle-doing. You’ll walk in and see by the checkouts a woman with three trolleys full of bread (hence the aforementioned arguments at the bakery). It’s lunacy.
So then there are times when you want to buy something but it’s not there because the stock hasn’t been replenished as it’s been wiped within a day. I learnt this the hard way, but I have now become greedy like all the rest. I once saw some sultanas in stock. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I grabbed five packets just in case I wouldn’t see them again in stock for the next few months. I know...sultanas.
Once you’ve decided enough is enough for today the checkout awaits. If all runs smoothly you will pass through without trouble. Keep your receipt, though, as you have to show it to the security guard from G4S at the exit (pointless). At the exit you are well received by a barrage of young men waving keys at you, shouting ‘Taxi, boss?’ You just have to shake your head and pass the commotion. Once you’ve passed the taxi drivers (all illegal by the way), you face boys selling plastics bags that have ‘Tanzania’ written on them. I admire their resolve considering the supermarket provides you with free plastic ones.
And yet there are more opportunist entrepreneurs. There’s the man who stands in a yellow hard hat selling talktime (mobile phone credit) who I have nicknamed him ‘Talktime’ because that’s all he says; there are the blokes that walk around the car park selling curios tat (no, I don’t want to buy a hand-carved toy elephant or some women’s perfume); and the woman who has a whole showcase of illegal DVDs for you to buy on the first step outside the entrance – Nigerian romcom, anyone? Bilge!
After you’ve left the car park, just ten seconds walk from the store you’ll see people selling products that have been bought inside the store. Those people that bulk-buy. There’s all the bread that should be in the store, fruit, vegetables... All sold with a slight increase in the price. They prey on passers-by and those that do not want to enter the maelstrom of Shoprite when it’s month-end. Zambian microenterprise – you have to admire the entrepreneurial spirit of these people.
