Market Day Excites Serere

Market day (Okisoni) in Serere

Early in the morning, before the birds came out to sing, before one could see beyond their nose -  in the pitch-black dark of night, feet shuffled outside; People talked in the distance and footsteps went pitter-patter on the village paths. A special day dawned. A day to buy and sell - to exchange and trade.

People came from miles around, from neighboring towns and villages. Some walked, some rod bicycles, others came by bus or taxi.

By 7:00 am, they were settled in their stalls. Bundled live chicken fluffed their feathers. A display of gomesi and kanga prints were strewn on wire lines hanged and tied on make-shift poles. Silver sparkling saucepans that reflected the sun’s glare and wooden ladles curved by crafty hands men lined the road. Over in the distance the bright colors of pretty dresses and cloth materials brought life to the dusty papyrus stalls. Knicks knacks - pots, handkerchiefs, sandals, cows, shoes, food stuffs, mats, batteries, car spare parts, milk, gourds, calabashes, and everything between. A celebration of arts and crafts, entrepreneurship, business and prosperity in the little town of Serere.

Market day! Or Okisoni as the Iteso call it is derived from the English word auction - remnants of the white man’s influence.

Women and girls, men and boys rode bicycles to the Okisoni market with animals fastened to the passenger seat. The anticipation was palpable. By about 9 am, the roads where colorfully congested with ladies dressed in hot purple and lime green – colors Iteso women had grown to embrace as their signature colors.  A honk of a car horn scattered the crowds off the road. Children run into the bushes like they were being chased by lions, men and women fell off their bicycles, others were shocked into stiffness, thinking they had already met their maker. When they got over the shock, they would smile and wave, sometimes asking for a ride or trying to catch up with their children now chasing the vehicle and coated in a thick layer of dust.

The best time to visit the market was early in the morning when everything was fresh and in plenty. One had the time to scout around for the most amazing artifacts at reasonable prices. Once, when I was a little girl I found a man selling beautiful miniature plastic cups, too big for toys and yet too tiny for actual tea cups. Alice in Wonderland – perhaps she too would use these cups. My sisters and I bought them with our allowance. They served as nice decoration and memorabilia.

Around 2:00 in the afternoon the market buzz begun to fizzle, market revelers walked back home and traders took stock. The roads for the next hours were littered with skeletons of a once busy location, sheaths of chewed sugarcane shafts, mango and orange peels.

When the sun set, we’d sit around the fire and tell stories of the day. It brought joy and celebration, connected the community and enhanced trade. Market day continues to light up Wednesday mornings in Teso.