Mericca Kheswa, a 58-year-old informal trader in Johannesburg's CBD, has spent 33 years selling affordable meals, lifting her family out of poverty. Starting with R5 plates in the early 1990s, her business has funded her children's education and built a stable future. Despite challenges like health issues and permit disputes, she continues her early-morning routine to serve the city's workers.
At the corner of De Villiers and King George Streets in Johannesburg's central business district, Mericca Kheswa has been a fixture for over three decades. The 58-year-old began her food-selling venture in the early 1990s, offering plates of pap, mogodu (tripe), chicken, beef, or salad for just R5. 'If you had R5 back then, you had money,' she recalls, noting how that modest sum held significant value.
Living in a windowless shack without even a bed, Kheswa used her earnings to make gradual improvements. She first purchased a bed and then brought her children from their grandmother's home in the village. As demand grew, she raised prices to R7 per plate, which made her feel 'like a boss – a millionaire!' Today, standard plates cost R40, though she occasionally adjusts for those in need, such as charging R25 to a struggling customer.
Beyond survival, Kheswa invested in community and family. She participates in a stokvel with other women traders, pooling earnings and dividing them annually to build collective security. Her dedication to education has paid off: daughters Nosipho and Nozuko are now nurses, having attended college after school, while youngest child Linda pursues a teaching diploma.
Kheswa's routine starts at 3am. 'I’m full of energy,' she says, describing how she prepares mogodu and chicken before heading out at 6am to have meals ready by 8am. Illness is her only deterrent; a year-long bout of pneumonia once forced her children to manage the stall, and she now carries medication for pneumonia and diabetes.
Recently, Kheswa and fellow traders faced a legal dispute with the City of Johannesburg over permits and trading zones, which reached the courts. The city is verifying traders, noting some are undocumented, but Kheswa, who now holds her permit, appreciates the officials' engagement. 'We didn’t mean to start a fight,' she says, emphasizing the interconnected nature of informal trading. She plans to retire at 60, after supporting more family education.