The power imbalance was glaring.
Above all this, behind the scenes, local business authorities and a few wealthy landowners held the real power.
They had quietly pressured the market to push out unlicensed vendors like me.
Occasional inspections, demands for permits I couldn’t afford, or veiled threats using their influence.
Their silence on my stall’s legality was a constant threat, even if it was never voiced directly.
That man in the suit was part of that world—the very people with resources and authority—who could decide my fate with a word.
The pressure hadn’t eased over the years—it had only evolved.
Three years ago, the first official warning letter arrived.
Then came a fine that nearly sank me.
Last year, a heated confrontation during an inspection almost ended in a forced closure.
