Just a few months ago, rumors circulated that the market would be redeveloped, displacing many stalls like mine.
Yet every small victory—like continuing to operate—felt overshadowed by the looming uncertainty.
Now, with those Rolls-Royces parked outside, everything felt like it was about to unravel further.
I was bracing for what would come next—a formal meeting scheduled by the city council that I had been dodging for weeks.
Where I had to explain myself before those who held all the cards.
I wasn’t ready, not really.
And the question hung heavy in the air: had I just witnessed a beginning or an end?
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