Improving access to markets for tradesmen... and why a drain-cleaner costs fifty times more than a security guard

When dirty dishwater began spilling across my driveway in Lusaka, I went looking for someone equipped to poke blockages out of long pipes. I was led to a nearby road junction, where a man known to his companions as Mr Plumber offered to unblock the drain for $30. He had the necessary long pokey thing, he assured me, and the job would only take him and his colleague half an hour.

Commenting, perhaps less delicately than I should have done, that $30 per man-hour was a ludicrous amount to pay for semi-skilled Zambian labour, I negotiated him down to $20, and the drain was unblocked. I was told later that a local customer would have got the job done for $10.

Nevertheless, by Zambian standards $10 per hour is an extraordinarily high rate of pay. For comparison, the company that provides 24-hour security at the housing complex where I live charges less than $10 per day, which is split between two full-time guards and the company.

In fact, very few Zambians are paid as much as $10 an hour. Those who do are generally in positions where the demand for suitably qualified people exceeds supply; Zambia's notoriously high-cost banking industry provides some notable examples. Yet in an industry where barriers to entry consist of ownership of a long pokey thing and the ability to shove it down a pipe, it seems unlikely that prices are being driven up by the scarcity of talent.

Perhaps the opposite is true. The availability of blocked drains is vastly outstripped by the supply of people willing to unblock them, so customers are spread very thinly and when Mr Plumber does succeed in finding one he is forced to charge highly in order to make an adequate living. If I was the only customer he had that day - and I may well have been - and $10 was his only income all day, his rates begin to make sense.

The economics here are somewhat counter-intuitive - oversupply is supposed to decrease, not increase, prices - but one thing that is clear is that the market for drain-unblocking services in Lusaka is not working efficiently. If Mr Plumber (who, incidentally, did a good job on my drains) had a better way of securing customers, he could offer more competitive rates while increasing his overall income. He would benefit, customers would benefit, and the whole economy would benefit since a capable man would no longer be spending 90% of his day sitting unproductively by a road junction. Indeed, the entire market for drain-unblockers might expand, drawing in new customers: people who didn't really want to try and clear their own drains but would previously have balked at the cost, effort and uncertainty involved in tracking down a reliable tradesman to do it for them. Mr Plumber would not merely be boosting his own business at the expense of others; he would be driving economic growth.

A solution is now on the horizon, thanks to TUCUZA Associates, a local private enterprise whose mission is to "create entrepreneurial value with clients or communities [and] improve their incomes which in turn will enhance their livelihoods" (in other words, supporting inclusive business). TUCUZA's ambition is to set up a database of reliable, certified handymen, to which potential clients subscribe. TUCUZA will pay for accreditation, and the cost will be recouped over time from the tradesmen's earnings, which should be higher and more reliable since TUCUZA will provide access to a steady base of customers who would be willing to pay a premium for good service. How much of a premium they're willing to pay is a key question, currently being answered through market research; the next step is the drawing up of a business plan and the launch of a pilot scheme. TUCUZA's work will shed light on the functioning of a neglected sector of the Zambian economy, and may lead to the development of an inclusive business model with enormous potential for scale. It also reminds us that the problem of dysfunctional markets doesn’t just affect farmers and exporters, but also the tradesmen standing at urban roadsides waiting for customers to come by.