Confession of a street vendor cook who used mortuary water that bathed corpses to attract customers.
Confessions of a Desperate Street Vendor
I took over my mom's food stall after she died. Her business was next to the taxi rank and sold traditional African food. Customers loved her cooking even though there was nothing special about it. It was just normal traditional food with salt and fewer spices. There was nothing fancy or special but her customers loved her food very much.
I started at her business while she was sick, I took over, my mom's hygiene was very questionable at the stall but maybe it was because she was getting older and tired. So when I took over I made the place cleaner. But customers left, and sales dropped. I struggled to keep it going.
My mom was at home sick and with her business collapsing it meant that we were struggling financially. She was at a point where she couldn't speak anymore but you could see that there was something important she wanted to discuss with me but words were not coming out.
Sadly she passed away. She used to cook 80 kg of Millie meal and the food would be finished just after lunch time. She used to do extremely well and I was failing her. I could hardly sell three plates in a day. The same 80 kg of maize that she could finish in a day would day three months with me.
I wanted to give up so bad but something kept on making me want to try again. I kept on going back even though I knew the results would be dissapointing but I did not give up.
One day, an old man bought two plates and struggled to finish,he was there from morning to noon struggling to finish his plates. He gave me a bottle with a strong smell and said:
"Use this water to cook and clean. Your mom's business will boom again."
The smell was strong but not bad. I used it, and customers swarmed! Mealie meal sold out by mid-day. I was confused.
But what's the cost?
The next day, the old man came with phone numbers.
"Call Mkhulu's Mortuary Supplies," he said.
I learned my mom used water from bathing corpses to attract customers. I felt shocked, disgusted, and guilty.
Mkhulu explained:
"We collect water, distill it, add herbs. The dead's essence draws people to your food."
I questioned Mkhulu:
"Is it harmless?"
"Yes," he said. "Just a subtle attraction."
But I knew the truth.
I asked the old man:
"Why help my mom?"
"Desperation," he said. "Remember, this power comes with a price."
"What price?" I asked.
He vanished, leaving me worried.
Is success worth losing our values?
I thought about my mom's business. It was popular, but now I knew the secret. Was it worth it?
Days passed, and customers kept coming. But at night, I felt guilty.
What secrets lay behind the mysterious water?
Was I sacrificing integrity for success?
By the time I was done cooking, customers were already waiting. It became so busy that I had to get more ingredients. It was a joyful day.
As I closed that day, I saw the old man from a distance. He smiled and walked away.
The next day, he came and gave me phone numbers.
That's how I found out about my mom's secret.
The old man's smile and swift departure left me with questions. But his return brought clarity – and horror.
He handed me a crumpled paper with phone numbers and a name: "Mkhulu's Mortuary Supplies." My heart sank.
"Your mom used corpse bathwater to attract customers," he said. "It's an ancient secret."
I felt shocked, disgusted, and guilty. How could my mom resort to this?
Mkhulu explained the process:
"We collect water, distill it, add herbs."
I struggled to comprehend. Was it exploitation or clever business?
As I continued using the water, customers flocked, and my stall flourished. But at night, my conscience whispered:
"Are you respecting the dead or manipulating the living?"
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