The Hidden Cost of Cheap Snacks Lies Beyond the Price Tag

The Hidden Cost of Cheap Snacks Lies Beyond the Price Tag

Jun 27 , 2026. By Kidist Yidnekachew ( Kidist Yidnekachew is interested in art, human nature and behaviour. She has studied psychology, journalism and communications and can be reached at (kaymina21@gmail.com) )

Consumers are increasingly encountering shrinkflation without always recognising it. Packaged snacks continue to retain familiar packaging while quietly offering less product at the same price. Manufacturers attribute the change to higher production costs, yet concerns persist over misleading marketing and ingredient quality. Several countries now require greater transparency when product sizes change. The debate increasingly centres on whether affordability should come at the expense of consumer trust.

I bought a bag of chips the other day, tore it open, and found what felt like more air than food. The bag looked the same, but the weight had clearly shrunk. I understand that production costs have risen. Raw materials, transport and packaging all cost more than they once did. If manufacturers need to charge more, I can accept that. What frustrates me is paying the same price for what appears to be the same product, only to discover I am getting less.

I did not need a kitchen scale to notice. The bag simply felt lighter than before. Once I started paying attention, I realised this was not limited to one brand. The same trend has spread across many packaged snacks on local shelves.

Having children makes you notice these things. Parents inevitably sample snacks before handing them over. I know packaged snacks are not the healthiest option, but some days call for convenience. Half-days at school, long afternoons and unexpected cravings often leave snacks as the easiest solution. Because of that, I pay closer attention to what is actually being sold.

Recently, a colourful poster outside a neighbourhood shop caught my eye. The product looked polished enough to rival the household brands many of us grew up with. The marketing worked, and I bought a pack. The disappointment came the moment I opened it. The snack looked nothing like the picture on the package and certainly did not taste as advertised. It was not the first time attractive packaging had persuaded me to buy something that failed to deliver.

Taste is subjective. My children happily ate it without complaint. Kids rarely reject anything crunchy and salty. As the one paying for it, I expected the product to match the promise. A company that invests in eye-catching marketing should invest just as much in what is inside the package. If maintaining quality means charging more, I would rather pay the higher price than feel misled.

I often wonder how profitable these snack businesses really are. New brands keep appearing, so they must be making money. Yet when I think about the machinery, labour, ingredients, plastic packaging and transport involved, I struggle to understand how some companies sell a bag for only 30 Br.

That low price raises another question: what exactly is inside? Are manufacturers using quality ingredients or relying on artificial colours, poor-quality oils and cheaper substitutes? When the production costs seem impossible, consumers often end up paying the hidden price through their health.

This practice even has a name: shrinkflation. The empty space inside the bag is known as slack fill. Manufacturers correctly explain that the bags contain nitrogen, which protects the chips from breaking and preserves freshness. That is scientifically true. The concern is when that empty space becomes a convenient way to disguise that consumers are quietly receiving less food.

Other countries have recognised the problem. Japan prohibits packaging that misleads consumers about quantity or quality. Brazil requires manufacturers to clearly state reductions in weight or volume on the front of the package for months after the change. France has responded by requiring supermarkets to identify products that have shrunk while becoming more expensive, giving shoppers clear information before they buy.

Closer to home, the picture is mixed. South Africa prohibits deceptive packaging and verifies that products contain the stated weight, though manufacturers can legally reduce the size as long as the new weight appears on the label. Kenya monitors product quality and removes products whose contents do not match their labels. Nigeria has become increasingly vocal about consumer rights. Across much of Africa, manufacturers argue that inflation and currency pressures leave them little choice but to shrink products instead of imposing price increases many consumers cannot afford.

I understand that businesses are under pressure just as households are. But economic hardship should not excuse deceptive marketing or poorer-quality ingredients, especially when many of these products are aimed at children.

Consumers deserve honesty. If a poster shows a premium snack, the product inside should resemble it. If a bag contains less than it once did, buyers should be told clearly instead of discovering it after opening the package. If lower-grade substitute ingredients are being used to keep prices down, parents deserve to know before handing those snacks to their children.

The snacks our children eat may seem like a small issue beside the country's larger economic challenges. Yet they reflect something much bigger: the relationship between businesses and the people who keep them in business. Most consumers understand that costs rise. What they should not have to accept is paying for promises that disappear the moment the bag is opened.

PUBLISHED ON Jun 27,2026 [ VOL 27 , NO 1365]