Two sides of the festive coin: Gikomba's worries, Burma market’s jubilee

Under the scorching Kenyan December sun, Gikomba Market sprawled with mountains of second-hand treasures, and Mama Synthia Wafula, a seasoned vendor, sorted through a jumble of faded denim jackets. Her weathered face mirrored both warmth and worry as she shared, "Business is slow this year. People say prices are high, not just here, but everywhere. They come, they look, but leave their pockets at home."

In the narrow corridors between makeshift stalls, John Wambua, a young university student, expressed frustration, holding up a pair of scuffed boots. "I need something sturdy for the farm holidays, but even these used ones cost a fortune!"

Jane Mwai, a seasoned clothes vendor, added a touch of optimism, saying, "The festive season brings a lot of excitement to Gikomba. People come here to find unique and affordable clothes for celebrations. It's a busy time, and we love seeing families shop together."

However, not all tales were merry. Peter Njuguna, affectionately known as 'Pepe,' a seller of household items, voiced concern about the impact of the high cost of living on business. "The cost of living has gone up, and people are more cautious about their spending. It's affecting us; we've noticed a decline in the number of shoppers compared to previous festive seasons," he lamented.

As shoppers weaved through the market, searching for treasures and deals, Grace Auma, a buyer, shared her perspective. "I love coming to Gikomba during the festive season. The variety and prices are unmatched. I can find gifts for everyone in the family without breaking the bank."

John Wambua’s frustration was echoed by many. Miriam Wanjiku, a single mother clutching her Christmas shopping list, shook her head. "Last year, I bought two dresses for the girls. This year, I can barely afford one."

Despite the hardships, Gikomba retained its chaotic charm. Laughter rippled from a group haggling over a vintage tea set, while a teenager danced to blaring music from a phone stall. The pungent aroma of fresh fish from Kisumu mingled with the earthy scent of used leather, creating a sensory assault that both invigorated and overwhelmed.

As midday approached, the scene shifted to Burma Market, a carnivore's paradise. The rhythmic sizzle of meat on charcoal grills filled the air, a siren song for hungry souls.

Sarah Ndung’e, a mother of three, shared her delight, saying, "Burma has become a tradition for us during the festive season. The atmosphere is fantastic, and the food is mouthwatering. It's a perfect place for family gatherings."

Families like Apoko Omwandi’s flocked to Burma, drawn by the promise of mouthwatering nyama choma and kuku choma. "This is Christmas!" declared Omwandi, slicing into a perfectly grilled skewer. "Nothing beats Barma's meat, not even mama's cooking!"

His wife, Rose, smiled, the glow of the fire reflected in her eyes. "It's expensive, yes," she admitted, "but one splurge a year won't hurt. Besides, seeing the kids happy is worth every shilling."

Around them, children chased each other between stalls, their faces smeared with barbeque sauce and smeared grins. Vendors, their arms slick with fat, joked with customers, the shared meal creating a festive camaraderie.

Solomon Thuita, a seasoned nyama choma vendor in Burma, beamed as he spoke, "This is the time of the year when families come together, and what better way to celebrate than with a delicious barbecue? Barma is known for its nyama choma, and we are delighted to see so many families enjoying our specialties."

As the day unfolded, laughter and the clinking of glasses merged into a joyful rhythm. While Gikomba wrestled with the realities of rising costs, Burma offered a temporary escape, a celebration of togetherness fueled by smoky, succulent meat.

In the heart of the two famous Nairobi markets, amidst the hustle and haggle, the festive spirit lived on.