The market is her life and happiness is relative

“What you buying girlie? A gat celery, sweet peppa, bora all wah you want, a gat hay today. Just come and buy,” she said as I approached one of the many stalls outside Bourda Market.

I shook my head and smiled and was about to continue on, but something about the way she made her pitch made me reconsider. Her face lit up. It was late in the afternoon so it could not be that I was her first customer, at least I hoped not.

“What you getting girlie?” she asked. I must admit that her calling me ‘girlie’ made me feel young; I smiled.

That was my first meeting with 50-year-old Sattie (not her real name) who travels many miles six days a week to sell at Bourda Market.