Saturday morning began with one whiteboard.
**TODAY’S PRICES — THE SAME RULE FOR EVERYONE.**
Only three vendors joined the community experiment: Saada Seafood, Jalia, and a juice stall.
Mama Saada wrote the base prices herself.
“Octopus, 28,000. Group package…”
She stopped.
“What is in the package?” Rehema asked.
“Reserved table and two shared jugs of juice.”
“Then write that.”
The board became:
**Optional group package +6,000 per person: reserved seating + juice.**
The first two hours were poor.
Tour buses passed the square. A few local customers arrived after the cooperative shared the event through community groups.
Mama Saada kept counting empty chairs.
“I told you locals are not enough.”
Rehema did not argue.
Halima was the event coordinator. Kassim had sent another officer to record aggregate transaction counts, waiting time, and footfall so Rehema would not judge the business experiment she had helped organize.
The first useful moment came when a customer rejected the package.
“I only want the base meal.”
Mama Saada served the base meal.
The higher price had not disappeared.
What had changed was that the choice was visible.
Jalia offered a lunch special with a lower average ticket but stronger volume. The juice stall did better than expected because its board was simple.
By midday the square filled slowly.
Customers began photographing the price board. Rehema worried the event would turn into online humiliation of vendors who had not joined.
Halima posted a clarification:
*Participation is voluntary. This event tests clear price display. It does not declare non-participants dishonest.*
That mattered.
They also asked twenty willing diners one simple exit question: did you understand that the package was optional?
Most said yes. A few had missed the word *optional*.
Mama Saada immediately rewrote it in larger letters.
Transparency could be adjusted like a queue or a recipe.
The independent observer’s end-of-day summary showed lower average tickets, higher transaction volume than the previous route-removed weekday, and fewer questions about why one person paid more than another. Long-term profitability remained unknown.
“Suggested viability,” Rehema said.
Mama Saada rolled her eyes.
“That word again.”
“It is useful.”
The event also revealed a cost. Split package choices slowed the register because Saada’s existing point-of-sale system was built for one group code, not individual components.
“Do not give me transparency that requires a cashier to rewrite every bill by hand,” Mama Saada said.
Rehema agreed. Any reform would need tools that supported itemization.
A vendor who had refused to participate asked whether there would be another event.
Halima said no decision had been made about creating a permanent alternative market.
Rehema supported that.
“If transparent vendors must abandon the tour route to survive, the route incentive remains untouched. We should reform access, not simply escape it.”
That was the decisive choice.
That evening the association announced the Island Seafood Festival.
The scoring rules rewarded hygiene, speed, presentation, customer satisfaction—and **Guide Partnership Compliance: 30 points**.
Jalia stared at the number.
“Thirty?”
Mama Saada said, “If you refuse the scheme, you can lose before anyone tastes the food.”
Rehema saved the public rules.
The community day had shown transparency could operate.
The community event also produced a small but useful service lesson. Customers asked fewer questions when the word **OPTIONAL** was printed larger than the package price itself. Mama Saada changed the board halfway through the day after two diners missed the wording. Rehema recorded the change rather than treating the first layout as fixed. Disclosure was not merely the presence of text somewhere; it had to be understandable at the moment of choice. That observation later influenced the charter’s requirement for visible package headings rather than tiny explanatory notes beneath a larger total.
The festival would show how commercial opportunity rewarded—or punished—it.