Survival of the cheapest

Thulaganyo Jankey | Tuesday May 26, 2026 10:17

Remember when P200 used to be a big deal? P200 at the supermarket made you feel like a responsible adult. It was like a VIP pass to life. You walked into Choppies with P200 and came out looking like you owned the store. Bread, milk, chicken, cooking oil, snacks, airtime and you still had change for a cab home. You’d walk out carrying enough groceries to feed a family, impress visitors and maybe even donate to a cousin who ‘just needs a few things.’ Now? P200 is basically a suggestion. You walk in with it, and the cashier looks at you like, ‘Aww, that’s cute. What do you want... a loaf of bread or a bottle of Coke?’ The first casualty of inflation is impulse buying. Those days are gone. Remember those snacks (at the gondola end as you await your turn at the till) that stare at you until you pick them? Well, we just stare back nowadays.

You stand in front of a packet of Doritos calculating whether the flavour justifies financial ruin and hobble off faster than a man after hearing the pregnancy test results. Nobody in Botswana casually tosses snacks into the trolley anymore. We are in an age where shopping isn’t retail therapy anymore—it’s survival training.

And can we talk about fuel prices? Filling up your tank now feels like entering a tender bid. You pull up at the station already sweating. Before the attendant even asks, ‘How much?’ you answer softly, ‘Let’s not embarrass each other today. Put P100.’ Then the fuel needle rises with all the enthusiasm of a tired government employee on a Friday afternoon.

Inflation has also humbled our taste buds. Many of us now walk through restaurants like museum visitors: looking respectfully but touching nothing.

Menus have become fantasy literature. You sit down, open the menu, laugh once, then order the safest thing available. The waiter says, ‘Would you like extra cheese?’ Brother, I can barely afford the salt in the shaker.

Even dating has suffered. Romance in this economy is warfare. A simple ‘Let’s grab lunch’ now requires budgeting meetings and maybe stakeholder consultation. Couples no longer fight about cheating; they fight about electricity units. Nothing tests love like hearing your partner say, ‘Who left the geyser on?’

You know inflation is serious when even the children have become economists. Back in the day, a kid would just shout: ‘Mama, I want KFC!’ - no hesitation, no strategy.

Now? Botswana kids study your face first. They scan you like airport security: ‘Hmm... Dad’s forehead vein is popping... maybe today is not a KFC day.’ A child asking for KFC today does it cautiously, like someone applying for a bank loan. They come with supporting documents: • ‘Mom, I’ve been good all week.’ • ‘Dad, I finished my homework.’ • ‘Here’s my repayment plan: I’ll share chips with my little sister.’ They don’t even say ‘Can we go to KFC?’ anymore. They say: ‘Based on current economic conditions and household liquidity, may I humbly request one Streetwise Two?’ And if you say no, they don’t cry. They nod like bankers: ‘I understand. Interest rates are high. Let’s revisit this proposal next quarter.’ So yeah, inflation has turned Botswana kids into mini-accountants.

And somehow, despite all this suffering, Batswana remain hilarious. We can stand in a queue discussing rising prices while making jokes powerful enough to heal temporary depression. Everybody laughs nervously because deep down we know it’s not impossible. Inflation has united us in strange ways.

Rich, poor, employed, unemployed — everybody now pauses dramatically before tapping a bank card. We all share the same fear: the card machine taking too long before exposing us publicly. And the cashier shouting with a smirk ‘It has declined!’ for all the world to hear. Alas!

(For comments, feedback and insults email inkspills1969@gmail.com) *Thulaganyo Jankey is a training consultant who runs his own training consultancy that provides training in BQA- accredited courses. His other services include registering consultancies with BQA and developing training courses. Contact him on 74447920 or email ultimaxtraining@gmail.com. .