Desperate for income amid a national unemployment rate that hovers around 20 percent, hundreds of Kenyans are now dependent on this informal beachfront economy, selling anything they can find that might interest a buyer under the scorching equatorial skies.

"I don't want this job, but I don't know what else I can do for money," says Lawrence Mpate (30) who hires out swimming costumes and inflatable tubes from his ramshackle storefront under the shade of a towering palm tree on beach near the coastal resort and port of Mombasa.

Mpate is just one of scores of seaside hawkers who have tried earnestly to find a regular nine-to-five job in Kenya's second-largest city but failed and turned to the tourist-filled beaches for their livelihoods.

"If you get one customer it's a good day"
These enterprising unemployed sell second-hand swimsuits, hand-carved sculptures, key chains, fresh fruit, snorkeling tours, camel rides and marijuana to put meals on their tables but struggle to meet ends meet as many resorts and guests regard see them as a nuisance at best or criminals at worst.

"If you get one customer, it's a good day," said Jackson Juma (25) as he hobbled up and down the sandy shored in a vain attempt to drum up business for his souvenir shop.

"We come to the beach to find tourists for our shop in the village," says Juma, who with his business partner, Kazungu Kenga, try to attract potential customers by guessing their nationalities.

Once they've engaged an unsuspecting visitor in friendly banter, Kenga (27) reaches into his pocket to extract samples of their inventory. The pitch is often unsuccessful, according to their targets.

"I find myself haggling them down for the best price, even if I'm not interested in what they have to offer," says Beth, a forty-something British tourist on a beach holiday with her husband. "It's a little game I like to play."

But the more fortunate manage to eke out a living.

Johnathon Charo (32) a former taxi driver who lost his job and moved to Mombasa a decade ago, is one, pulling in up to 1000 Kenyan shillings ($14) a day.

Every morning, he shimmmies up the slender waxen trunk of one of the coconut trees in a family-owned plot along Mombasa's northern shore to collect its green-shelled fruit to sell to thirsty beachgoers.

"If I don't have money, at least I can drink the coconut juice and eat the flesh inside," Charo said as he weaved a hat from discarded palm fronds to ward off the brutal midday sun.

"At least there's the beach"
But even when faced with suspicion and a lack of enthusiasm from would-be buyers, the lure of easy money, ocean breezes and a beach lifestyle is hard to resist, particularly for those from even more impoverished and desolate parts of the country.

Ibrahim Hassan made his way to the coast from the drought-plagued northeastern town of Garissa near the Somali border five years ago with his two camels, Jamal and Irga, in tow.

"I keep them on Mombasa Beach, in the bush, and bring them to the beach everyday and try to sell rides," says Hassan (25) one of more than a dozen men who offer licensed camel rides on the beach, many of whom make a seasonal trek to the shore in an effort to capitalise on the influx of tourists.

"Whether business is good or bad, at least there's the beach," he laughs.

Visit the Kenya Tourist Board website

AFP

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