Alternatives to Food Stamps and the Business Behind EBT

Unknown Speaker

Alright, welcome back to The New Sentinel. It's Vinny, and I'm sittin' across from the man who can turn a proverb into policy, Mr. Chijioke Eze. Today, we're pullin' the lid off the stew pot that is the American food benefits game—and brother, it needs a hard stir.

Chijioke Eze

Ah, Vinny, you know these food policies, they are never as simple as they look on paper, eh? But let’s get into it. I’ve been reading up on all these new direct cash transfer ideas—Universal Basic Income, all that jazz. Look at Alaska, every year they hand people that Permanent Fund Dividend. Small, but steady, just for being alive in the great cold. No fuss, no paperwork for bread or beans.

Unknown Speaker

Yeah, and before folks start blowin' smoke—Alaska’s not handin' out fortunes. Most years, it’s what, a couple thousand bucks? But what’s interesting is it’s straight cash. You get to decide what you eat. It ain’t a box of powdered eggs showin' up on your porch, and you don’t gotta justify it to some clerk with a clipboard. Stockton in California tried a smaller pilot—kinda like a taste test for UBI. Just gave certain families five hundred dollars a month. Cash, strings off. People went for groceries, sure, but also for car repairs, rent, whatever kept 'em moving.

Unknown Speaker

And you know, when you put the trust in people, most they use it right. There’s also talk of ‘incentive-based’ solutions—community gardens you mentioned, food trucks bringing produce to the block, or these “Double Up Food Bucks” programs. If you spend your SNAP at the local farmers market, they match it. It’s, uh, not a perfect net, but some people eat better for it.

Unknown Speaker

Yeah, it’s what the suits call nudgin’—but I call it payin’ people for eatin’ green instead of gray. I mean, if you can get broccoli to cost what a bag of chips does, that’s mob-level efficiency. Chijioke, I know you got a story to tell on this—how it looked on your side of the world?

Chijioke Eze

Ha, you know me too well. Back in Nigeria, during some rough seasons, we had these old ration cards. Government would try to hand out rice or oil, but half the time it didn’t reach people. So...the market would come alive. Neighbors would swap, trade, hustle. I got salt, you got beans—let’s do business. Sometimes, we looked after each other better than the state ever could. Systems break, but community improvises. It is...eh, what do you Americans say? Street smarts, abi?

Unknown Speaker

That’s it, Eze. Sometimes, when the official game’s a mess, you lean on the street’s own rules. And that, folks, is what the high-dollar think tanks miss—sometimes power’s about who you trust to put food on your table, not who’s stampin’ your welfare card.

Unknown Speaker

Now, let’s pour a little cold gravy on this feast. Everybody talks about “Who gets welfare?” But the real play, Chijioke, is “Who gets paid to manage the welfare?” These EBT cards—Electronic Benefit Transfer—they don’t just appear outta thin air. They’re run by giant private companies: Conduent, FIS, and all their cousins in the backroom.

Chijioke Eze

So it’s like a bank with only one kind of customer, hmm? If you’re poor, you’re locked in. The state hands out the contract—we’re not talking pocket change here. JP Morgan, I remember, held two hundred million dollars in those deals at one point. For managing the plastic, charging the transaction fees, adding service costs, you name it. Makes you wonder—who really needs help here?

Unknown Speaker

Exactly. See, when Vinny looks at that setup, it’s like watchin’ a crew muscle the only road into town. You don’t control the supermarket—you control the gate. The mob used to tax every crate movin’ off the docks—these firms do the same, just digital. The difference is they got lobbyists instead of enforcers. Every time you swipe your EBT, the middleman gets a taste. And who’s gonna yell? The poor? Gimme a break.

Chijioke Eze

Ah, my brother, you said it. Most people see a food card, but the business is not in the groceries—it’s in the gatekeeping. The fintech apps now, they market to poor people. “No fees, faster access”—but if you look deeper, who collects on the back end? The costs and the profits, they just wear new suits. Ordinary families still pay, but in a language they don’t read.

Unknown Speaker

Power respects power. These state contracts turn into kingdoms—controlled by whoever takes the risk outta the governor’s hands. That’s why nothing changes, unless someone’s cut off. Like I always say, never outshine the capo. If you wanna understand why these systems never get better, follow the money, not the mission. The streets remember what the courts forget.

Chijioke Eze

Oho, so if the business stays rigged, what hope is there for change? I’ve seen all these pilot programs—some city in the U.S. tests a digital wallet, or sends grocery credits to your phone, or pays the market guy directly when you buy tomatoes on an app. It’s new, o, but it moves fast.

Unknown Speaker

Yeah—until the system finds a way to take its cut. You start doin’ app-based benefits? Guess who owns the platform. You cut out the EBT plastic? Here come the data brokers and the cybersecurity holes. Look, I’m not scared of innovation—but bureaucracy’s like concrete, and it’s poured by lobbyists. You disrupt this gravy train, you get lawsuits, leaks, fraud. Any move that threatens a billion dollar contract…that’s a street war, just on paper.

Chijioke Eze

Ei, and the risk is real. Fraud goes digital—one big hack, and families see zero balance overnight. Data privacy, too. If you thought bank fees were hidden, wait till you try tracing who is selling your shopping habits to the highest bidder. It becomes, what my father would say, “a snake with many heads.” You chop one, two more appear.