By Avner Pariat
Walking through Laitumkhrah these days feels like running an obstacle course. You’ve got cars honking, bikes weaving through crowds, and street vendors packed so tightly along the footpaths that pedestrians are forced to walk on the road. It’s chaotic, it’s stressful, and honestly, it’s just not working for anyone.
The recent move by the Shillong Municipal Board to relocate street vendors in Police Bazaar has brought this issue into sharp focus. Some people are thrilled – finally, they say, we’ll be able to walk without tripping over vegetable carts and fruit stalls. Others are upset – where will we buy our daily necessities now? And what about all those small vendors who depend on these spots to make a living?
First, let’s understand why this has become such a heated issue. Street vendors have always been part of Shillong’s culture. They provide affordable goods, create jobs, and add vibrancy to our neighbourhoods. Many of us have fond memories of buying steamed momos or alumuri from roadside stalls or picking up fresh vegetables from local vendors.
But as our city grows, these informal arrangements are causing real problems. The middle class in particular seems to have developed a strong dislike for street vendors, and it’s worth understanding why. For one thing, the congestion is unbearable. Try walking down from Beat House to Police Point during peak hours and you’ll see what I mean – the sidewalks are completely taken over by stalls, forcing pedestrians into the street where they have to dodge traffic. It’s not just inconvenient, it’s downright dangerous. This situation becomes even more unbearable during the Monsoons.
Then there’s the cleanliness issue. Let’s be honest – the haphazard way vendors currently operate creates a lot of litter and clutter. Plastic sheets, makeshift stalls, and piles of goods everywhere don’t exactly make for a pleasant street-scape. Stale fish is sold right out in the open and chicken blood and bits splatter onto pedestrians as the butchers hack at the meat. Many Laitumkhrah residents I spoke to dream of a more organized, aesthetically pleasing shnong (locality).There’s also the fairness argument. Shop owners who pay rent and license fees rightly wonder why street vendors get to occupy public space for free. It creates an uneven playing field that understandably frustrates business owners who play by the rules.
But that is one side: if we’re being completely honest, there’s class bias at play too. Many middle-class office-going salaried people have started seeing street vendors as symbols of disorder. They have never asked themselves about what economic hardships would compel people to come out onto the streets to sell their wares and services for little profit. It is not an easy life to brave the torrential rain, scorching heat, biting cold and incessant vehicular pollution to scrape together a living. It is much easier to be inside an office in Secretariat and enjoy a cup of tea at one’s leisure. I have remained quiet regarding the issue thus far but the silence of those who claim to be “defenders of the Jaitbynriew” has struck me as being exceedingly hypocritical. Why did they not come out and join in defending the right to livelihood of the poor and rural Khasis whom they claim to represent? The reason is simple. The Meghalaya and Greater Shillong Progressive Hawkers and Street Vendors Association (MGSPHSVA) – which is the main union of hawkers – is not a racist organisation. Its President – Angela Rangad – has been quite vocal in defending the rights of everyone to earn. Its members have also been seen defending non-tribal hawkers much to the great annoyance of the “Jaitbynriew defenders”. Ultimately it would seem that all these “defenders” care about is stoking communal sentiment as and when it suits their own political machinations. Encountering a force that does not bend to their will immediately invites their silence.
But beyond the petty politics, here’s a thought – what if we could fix this problem for good? What if we could turn Laitumkhrah into a proper walking street, the kind you see in so many cities around the world? A place where people can stroll comfortably, vendors can do business without harassment, and everyone wins? It’s not just a pipe dream – with some smart planning and community cooperation, we could actually make this happen.
The solution isn’t to get rid of street vendors, but to organize them better. Imagine a Laitumkhrah where vendors have proper designated spots, where pedestrians can walk safely, and where the whole area is cleaner and more pleasant for everyone. It’s possible – many cities around the world have made this work. Take Chennai for example. They implemented a system where vendors get licensed spots in designated zones. The city provides proper stalls and waste management, vendors pay reasonable fees, and everyone benefits from the more organized setup.
First, we should start with a trial period. Maybe make Saturdays pedestrian-only to see how it works. Close the main road to cars during market hours, let vendors set up in properly marked spaces along the main road, and see how people respond. The trial would help us work out the kinks before committing fully.
Secondly, instead of treating the hawkers like criminals, let’s give them recognition: a small fee, special permits for temporary sellers, with priority given to local vendors who’ve been operating in the area for years. This way, the Dorbar Shnong earns revenue while giving vendors security and legitimacy. If there are say 100 hawkers who pay Rs 500 per month, the Dorbar Shnong could easily get Rs 50,000 per month simply as rent. That’s free money!
Of course, we’d need to handle traffic carefully. No cars during market hours except for emergencies and only buses could be allowed to ply through. Maybe the rent collected by the Dorbar Shnong could be used to pay for electric auto-rickshaws to transport people around, especially those with special needs and the elderly.
A well-managed walking street could actually become a tourist attraction. Imagine having street performers and festive markets with special themes during holidays. It could breathe new life into the area. Many people will say – “Oh, this sounds great in theory, but will it actually work here?” No doubt there would be challenges. Drivers would complain about parking. Even the vendors might fear change. But these aren’t reasons to dismiss the idea – they’re problems we can solve with good planning. The key is starting small, testing the concept, and adjusting as we go. If the weekend trial works, we expand. If certain things don’t work, we fix them. The important thing is that we try – because the status quo isn’t working!
At the end of the day, Shillong is changing whether we like it or not. We can either let that change happen haphazardly, with more congestion and conflict, or we can shape it intentionally to create a city that works better for everyone. A proper walking street in Laitumkhrah could be a model for the rest of Shillong – showing how we can preserve what we love about our city while making it function better for everyone.
The Shillong we leave for future generations depends on the choices we make today. Maybe it’s time to try something new, something bold, something that could transform one of our busiest areas from a source of frustration into a point of pride. The best cities aren’t those that resist change, but those that manage it wisely.