Punishing!

Small businesses have taken a battering from a second week of coronavirus lockdowns, with fears emerging that the imposition of more no-movement days could further cripple commerce.

Those anxieties have left business people hesitant about reopening, nervous that restocking investments might go down the drain.

In the eastern St Andrew community of Harbour Heights, Othniel Williams, who operates a bar within a mini plaza at the entrance to the scheme, has been dealt a further blow by the recent erosion of the roadway by torrential rains churned by Tropical Storm Grace.

The road is impassable to vehicular traffic, meaning fewer customers and a slump in revenue.

However, the real economic fallout is from the no-movement days, he said, forcing Williams to adjust his operations because his bartenders can no longer work a full week.

“Me and them sit down and discuss it, and them agree to take off the three days. So I didn't have any problem with that,” he told The Gleaner on Wednesday.

“Things get slow, but we don't have any choice,” he said of the impact of the lockdown as the country braced for the likelihood of extended no-movement days, which was confirmed Wednesday evening.

“If it lock down for a next three days, we have fi just settle weself and work with it.”

A REAL MISFORTUNE

Over at the Rae Town Fishing Village, vendor Maureen 'Angella' McDermott was not in such a conciliatory mood, having dumped 50lb of fish. She showed two Igloos with ice as evidence of her misfortune.

“Real bad,” was her response when asked how her business had been affected. “Nobody naw come out.”

Part of the blame, however, lies with McDermott, who lost her identification card, which was issued by the National Fisheries Authority and which she is yet to replace. That would have given her exemption as an authorised worker.

“Me never have no ID, so me couldn't come out, and furthermore, nobody naw come out fi buy fish because nobody nuh deh pon road more than so,” she said.

Even as she lamented her losses and a bleak forecast, McDermott was contemplating her next move.

She said she resolved to start over – yet again – but was cautious about making further investments that could be wiped out by another lockdown.

“But me haffi eat, and me have me bills fi pay. Me have me round-robin fi pay, partner fi pay, and me have me pickney dem fi look after,” said McDermott.

“So me haffi take chance, but me naw guh buy yet because me a watch things fi see how the road a run, and a only two smaddy me see come a the stall down there so from morning. Out yah dry!”

Those anecdotal accounts offer an alternative narrative to news of emergent buoyancy in the Jamaican economy, which rapidly expanded by 12.9 per cent in the April-June quarter.

That favourable spurt represents a fillip to a country that has been pummelled by the coronavirus and its attendant measures, which have turned the screws on businesses, causing some to collapse.

Importantly, the April-June growth leaves the economy well below 2019 pre-pandemic levels.

DOWN TO ONE-MAN SHOW

Meanwhile, with no customers in sight at the Tower Street Adult Correctional Centre sports club in downtown Kingston, a disgruntled bartender, who gave her name as Tamika, stood outside talking with Aston Harris, who operates a food stall.

Harris, on Fridays, serves up jerk chicken and pork, roast fish, soup, along with side orders like roast breadfruit and festival.

When business is up and running from afternoon into the night, Harris and his three-member crew would be kept busy, but he has had to cut back to a one-man operation during the lockdowns.

Unable to pay the salaries as he watched incomes decline, Harris had to slash jobs and now does everything himself.

“Bad, bad! Nuh business naw gwaan,” was his summary of the state of affairs before Tamika chimed in.

“Business bad. Nobody naw come, nobody naw go. One time business did up. Friday night over yah hot, but now, things dead. COVID mash we up.”

Courtesies extended by customers such as buying the bartender a drink are now things of the past, she said.

“A man would say him will buy you a beer inna the Friday, but you done know how it go now. Him say next week, and when next week come, a same thing,” Tamika said.

christopher.serju@gleanerjm.com