The dust swirls around the newly erected stalls of Nsukka’s modern market, a stark contrast to the familiar chaos of the old, open-air trading space. While officials hail it as a leap forward, a symbol of progress, the reality on the ground is far more nuanced. For many local traders, the new market, with its structured layout and higher rental fees, represents not opportunity, but displacement.

“It’s too expensive,” laments Mama Chioma, a vegetable seller who’s been a fixture of the old market for decades. “The rent, the maintenance… how are we supposed to make a profit?” Her concerns echo through the narrow aisles, where many struggle to adapt. The old market, despite its disarray, was a level playing field, a place where even the smallest trader could find a foothold.

The new market, with its promise of improved sanitation and organization, was supposed to uplift the community. But without adequate support for the existing traders, the transition risks creating a divide, leaving the most vulnerable behind. The challenge now is to find a balance, ensuring that progress doesn’t come at the cost of livelihoods. Can the market administration introduce tiered rental structures, or perhaps provide subsidies for those most affected? The success of this venture will ultimately depend on its inclusivity, its ability to serve not just as a monument to modernity, but as a genuine engine of local economic growth.