While this book is written for corporate salespeople, its insights extend far beyond sales. It speaks to storytellers, marketers, policymakers, and anyone trying to understand how people live, trade, and make decisions.
I have lived in Dar es Salaam since 2010, but I can count on two hands the number of times I have been to Kariakoo Market. I could never bring myself to engage with what I used to call "chaos" until I read Selling to Informal Markets by Farayi Ziswa, who draws on his experience as a salesperson to offer a revealing look at the sector.
Ziswa argues that what people like me call chaos is simply a system that works for those who live and trade within it.
He traces the origins of informal markets to Africa’s urbanisation. As people move, markets follow, emerging wherever people and interests converge. Wherever there is a bus station, he notes, an informal market is likely to form.
This helped me make sense of something I have observed in Tanzania. Major retail shops open, and just as quickly, many close due to low sales. It made me question whether we misunderstand informality as a lack, when it is often a different type of order. Ziswa attributes this to a failure to understand the existing system.
Many Africans buy from people they know, kwa Mangi, the corner shop on their street, where trust is built, and credit is possible when times are hard, something supermarkets cannot replicate. As Ziswa puts it, modern retailers "built stores, but did not build trust. Their formats were too rigid. They could not compete with the agility of the spaza (kiosk or duka).”
Africa is the youngest continent, and so is its labour force. According to Ziswa, 85–95 percent of businesses in Africa are informal, and roughly 86 percent of employment in Sub-Saharan Africa is outside the formal economy. It is hard to argue with Ziswa's conclusion that the informal market will continue to thrive, whether we want it to or not.
Selling to Informal Markets succeeds in addressing ideas I have long wondered about. In Tanzania, the government has built many modern markets to bring order to informal traders. Yet, time and again, these facilities end up empty, abandoned by the very people for whom they were built.
Ziswa cuts to the heart of it: "Whatever facility is built must tangibly attract new customers and increase potential for profitable sales," otherwise, traders will not scramble for space in the new venue, no matter how modern it looks.
This pattern is not limited to urban areas. Even in rural settings, traders follow foot traffic. They sell where people already are, not where markets are planned. That is why bus stations become centres of trade, filled with hawkers and small-scale vendors.
This raises a more difficult question about how informal trade fits within formal systems.
Ziswa argues that hawkers should be taxed, citing the loss of economic activity that goes unmeasured and untaxed when traders operate outside the system. But I kept thinking about the hawker walking around with a tray of fruits. What does taxation mean for someone whose income depends on whether they sell enough to eat that day?
Taxes matter. But not all income is the same. Any approach to taxation has to reflect the realities of the business and the income it generates. It has to work for both sides, but it must begin with the trader. Their stability must come first.
But it is not all bleak. Ziswa not only diagnoses the problem but also offers solutions.
He points to issues such as corruption and weak leadership as key reasons the system struggles. At the same time, he argues for building structures that make economic sense for those within them, not just on paper, but in practice.
Central to this is leadership. There is a need for accountable leaders who understand the realities of the people and prioritise their development.
While this book is written for corporate salespeople, its insights extend far beyond sales. It speaks to storytellers, marketers, policymakers, and anyone trying to understand how people live, trade, and make decisions. As a self-proclaimed introvert, I have gained insights into how to network and stand out in my career, which I struggle with.
This is a book about selling, but it is also about understanding. It challenges how we think about markets, order, and value. More importantly, it reminds us that before trying to change a system, we must first take the time to understand it.
Ziswa weaves in personal stories from his early life and career, grounding his arguments in lived experience. The book is well researched and moves with clarity, making complex ideas accessible without oversimplifying them.
I have lived in Dar es Salaam for 15 years, always within 30 minutes of Kariakoo Market. It’s time I went there more often.
Jane Shussa is a digital communication specialist with a love for books, coffee, nature, and travel. She can be reached at [email protected].
