The bargain hunt at China Town superstore

A few weeks back I dropped by the Carrefour store at the Lugogo Mall, in the heart of Kampala, in the hope of finding the catalogue of African spices that my sister in the US had asked me to help her get. First off, I’m not exactly impressed that nobody thought it nice to alert me that I would be competing for parking space with hordes of pilgrims assembled outside the mall. The crowds are massive and occasionally rowdy; I’ve no clue what their business here is. I’m suspecting, though, that there’s a new holy site in the area, and the faithful have gathered for a dose of spiritual nourishment. It’s either that, or they’re signing up for a forthcoming crypto seminar—nothing else could possibly explain this level of commitment!

While some of the people are standing in line totally unbothered by the sweltering noonday heat, others are seated on the floor or have pitched camping tents, pretty much blocking the way into Carrefour, which’s quite literally next door. One thing I notice they have in common is that they’re all facing the same direction. No, the direction they’re facing isn’t Mecca, but, rather, the entrance to what I soon discover to be the newest bargain store in town.

The China Town store’s invasion of the local market and their declaration of a price war has effectively exposed the Ugandan retailers’ weapons of mass exploitation, a development that has left many consumers drooling. When the store opened shop recently, the Kampala shoppers were cast into a frenzy. It’s like they all decided at once: “Guys, today we’re hitting the store!”. You can’t really blame them cos, generally, each time commodity prices shoot through the roof and into the atmosphere, they rarely ever drop. Now China Town is giving the people a taste of prices so low; they’re currently somewhere below sea level and, according to projections, they even have the potential of approaching the earth’s core.

Meanwhile, the local traders in Kikuubo, a shopping hub in downtown Kampala, are crying foul despite decades of selling the same products as those in China Town exorbitantly and ripping off consumers. They wonder how the heck they’re gonna compete with a store where even the air smells like a discount! It’s also worth noting that earlier in the year, there was a major standoff between the central government and the traders over tax policy issues that resulted in the latter closing shop for a while, in protest. Whereas President Museveni engaged the traders on this, it all seemed to end in a stalemate. Look, I’m not outrightly saying China Town‘s entry was a tactical move by the President to teach the local traders a lesson. All I’m saying is that there’s nowhere else you’re getting a juicier conspiracy theory than this.

The spectacle that ensued after the Chinese retailer swung its doors open to the public was unlike anything you’ve seen before. China Town‘s security department itself wasn’t prepared for the mammoth crowds; with many people flocking in from out of town after a quirky rumor swirled around that you could even score yourself a 50x100ft piece of real estate plus its title deed at a jaw-dropping bargain! Yup, the ambition was so out of this world!

Predictably, the store became a hotbed for shoplifters in the initial days as there were no security installations in place other than that one security guard and his two buddies eyeballing every single shopper like Robocop would. In as much as a few managed to sneak away undetected, most of the shoplifters that were creative enough to shove cutlery into their crotch, or cleverly slide a rolling pin between their butt cheeks, or somehow hide an appliance under their armpits or bra—most were caught, but rather than get arrested, they were politely asked to handover the merchandise. They were also guaranteed further discounts on the already discounted products if they solemnly swore on their mom’s life that they wouldn’t shoplift again on the next visit to the store.

A friend of mine that usually ships his gadgets and gizmos from China told me he was shocked to discover that nearly all the gear he was planning on shipping in from Jackie-Chan land was right there on the shelf. Just one problem: the queues at the checkout counter are like six times longer than what you’ll normally find at a sold-out Kamala-Harris rally. So, anyway, at the store there’s the regular queues, and then the one for shoplifters lining to take that oath I told you about—the sworn promise to never shoplift again! My friend, with his fingers crossed in the regular queue, says he was extremely lucky to spend only four hours waiting in line cos the cashier seemed to be in a good mood. “It could’ve easily escalated to eight hours if for whatever reason her mood had swung only a few millimeters to the left!” he said with tangible relief in his voice.

The authorities, in a moment of sheer disbelief, and perhaps afraid that the monkey pox scourge would have a field day, had to close the store due to overcrowding. But that’s the sugarcoated mainstream version of the story. The backstory is that the irate local traders and manufacturers whipped up some high-end African voodoo—proudly sponsored by the top-notch services of a Nigerian witchcraft merchant—in a bid to destabilize their Chinese competitor. And from the looks of it, the African ancestors are working overtime, cos China Town is still closed–at least until further notice!

That said, if there’s something you can trust about the Ugandan people, it’s their impressive levels of patience. After waiting for the elusive socioeconomic change they were promised a whooping forty years ago, what’s a couple of weeks of temporal closure!? Besides, where else in this republic, if not at China Town, will you get a fridge that doubles as a grill and a kettle; all for the price of a microwave? Or a flat iron with the Chinese version of Siri that’ll tell you a joke and give you the weather forecast, at half price!

Lest we forget the economic significance, if China Town maintains this business model whereby the value of goods isn’t much in their utility but in how much you didn’t pay for them, this could unexpectedly open a tourism opportunity as well. Imagine people flocking in from all across just to come and witness the sensation of purchasing a double-door fridge for the price of a toaster! If, indeed, the Chinese retailer’s strategy is to undercut every price in Uganda, they might just turn Kampala into a Guangzhou outpost!

Will China Town‘s entry into the Ugandan market lead to a renaissance of bargain hunting, or will it be the beginning of a retail apocalypse? Well, only time will tell, as we await the store’s reopening. But one thing is for sure: Ugandans will shop endlessly and choose to worry later about the actual cost of a deal too good to be true. Welcome to the new retail jungle, where the only things wilder than the beasts at Murchison Falls National Park are the price tags at China Town!

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