As she walked through the alleys of Majengo slums, Moesha Kibibi Tajiri kept hoping someone would stop her and buy her last few rolls of groundnuts.
Her throat was parched from calling out to strangers all day. Her feet hurt so bad from walking all day in Gikomba, Pumwani, Bahati, and its environs. She looked at the remaining groundnuts in the plastic container she held. They were carefully wrapped in cones made from sheets of printed paper.