Three generations of Ana Paula Muniz da Silva family have made a living as street vendors in João Pessoa, Brazil. Her grandparents had a market stall, her father sold produce, and her mother sold candy apples. As a child, Paula helped her parents; when she finished school she followed in their footsteps, despite violence and threats.

“My parents faced many situations like losing their license or having difficulty getting it or brutality.” Something that marked Paula deeply occurred at a cattle party in a small town. Authorities banned her parents from selling at the event, but they were poor and in debt, plus they’d travelled to get there, so her father set up outside the event. The army and police told him to dismantle the stall and leave.

“When things like that happened, we felt like trash… we only want to provide for our families and it’s a humiliating situation. It was horrible.”

A few years later at the same event, her brother was carrying a tray of apples when he was hit by a guard. Her mother retaliated and there was a big “commotion.”

“There’s always a movement from public authorities to replace us, to make up excuses to hinder us in our work.”

But that began to change after 2005 with the founding of the Association of Street Vendors and General Workers of Paraiba (AMEG), and especially after it joined forces as an affiliate of StreetNet International. By 2019, registration became more routine and simpler.

The violence didn’t end however. Despite being registered to work an event in 2019, Paula’s mother was beaten up by authorities; she needed stitches to her head. But this time AMEG members, stepped into the fray.

“Everybody went up to the secretary [of the event]…and there was this big, big commotion.” They all ended up at the police station.

“This association is like a family,” said Paula, spreading her strong hands. “Everyone supports each other.”

Today, thanks to the efforts of AMEG and The National Union of Hawkers, Street and Market Vendor Workers of Brazil (UNICAB), the situation is much better because the policies for street vendors are much better, she said.

Business can be good. Paula, 43, who works events in the cities and states throughout the North and Northeast, can sell up to 400 candy apples, plus skewers of chocolate-dipped fruit in a single night. Her slim figure speaks to her busy work. She said her life it better than her parents’ was, but there are still gaps.

Most crucially is the need for childcare, especially at night when many events are held. Most children are still raised at their mother’s stalls. Tears spill from her eyes as she recalls being molested as a child. “I was sleeping, and my mother was making candy apples and some guy put his hands on me and I started screaming. … We have to take care. It’s very important.” Paula is a single mother of three, one of whom in now 18. All were raised at her stall. Her youngest has noise sensitivity problems after long-exposure to loud concerts.

In addition to childcare, she would like more attention paid to vendors’ mental health issues. “They end up developing disorders due to the situations they face. And many street vendors have difficulty working in formal jobs.” She thinks many problems go undiagnosed. She also hopes street vendors will get access to social security for when they get sick or want to retire. “We depend on the help of others to buy medication.”

Being a third-generation vendor, she sees the big picture: “We want more than anything, dignity and respect.”