How second-hand clothing donations are creating a dilemma for Kenya

Traders work in Gikomba market on July 10 2014 in Nairobi. Locally known as “Mitumba”, second-hand clothes trade has developed from mainly international charitable donations to become a bustling business sector. (Pic: AFP)

When a fire razed East Africa’s biggest second-hand clothes market in Nairobi last week, the deputy president, William Ruto, rushed to the scene to assure traders that the government would do everything to help them to rebuild their destroyed stalls.

But perhaps a more important question Ruto should have answered is whether Gikomba market will be in business a year from now if a proposed ban on the importation of second-hand clothes into east Africa is approved.

In January, east African head of states suggested that Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania should stop importing used clothes in an effort to revive the local textile industry.

Kenya alone imports around 100 000 tonnes of second-hand clothes, shoes and accessories a year – many of which were originally donated to charity shops in the west. According to Oxfam, more than 70% of the clothes donated globally end up in Africa.

“The items [charity] shops fail to sell or which they reject are considered for resale elsewhere,” says Ian Falkingham, who manages an Oxfam-owned outlet in Senegal, Frip Ethique. “Items which are in good condition and suitable for warmer climates are exported to Africa.”

This second-hand clothes chain sees, for example, a Forever 21 dress once worn by a young woman in London find its way into the wardrobe of a university student in Kenya. University of Oxford sweatshirts, I love London T-shirts, hoodies emblazoned with the star spangled banner or the Union Jack – and even the Confederate flag – are common wear for people who have never set foot in the UK or the United States.

But if the ban goes through, Kenyans will be compelled to buy locally produced clothes, giving textile manufacturers a chance to reclaim the market they lost to cheap imports from abroad.

Death of an industry

The decline of Kenya’s textile industry dates back to the early 1980s, when market liberalisation policies spearheaded by the World Bank opened up the local economy to second-hand clothes. Previously, they had been distributed for free among the poor.

But the superior quality and originality of the clothes soon caught the eye of the young urban population, creating a demand that led to the collapse of many of Kenya’s once robust textile companies, among them Rift Valley Textiles (Rivertex) and Kisumu Cotton Mills (Kicomi).

According to local media reports, 500 000 people were employed in the textile industry in the 1980s. Today, that number has fallen by more than 96% to around 20 000.

Banning the importation of used clothes is the government’s latest effort to save an industry that is all but extinguished – and is intended to try to recover some of those lost jobs.

But, paradoxically, a ban could devastate another group of Kenyans who depend on the second-hand clothes trade to make a living.

William Ng’ong’a, who sells used clothes at Gikomba, is aware of the possible ruling that could destroy the business his family has spent the past two decades building. “I am in this business with my parents, I joined them 10 years ago just after finishing university. It’s the only work I know,” he says.

Ng’ong’a says the business imports an average of two containers of clothes a month, for which they pay £16,700 in tax. The containers are offloaded from ships at the port town of Mombasa from where they are transported by road to Gikomba market.

A glorious, chaotic ecosystem

Gikomba is the ground zero of second-hand clothes in Kenya, and it’s from here that merchandise is redistributed to retailers all over the country.

Unapologetic for its mess of noise, dust and a confusing maze of timber, iron sheets and cardboard stalls, clothes hang from the stalls in a wild cacophony of colour and design.

If the clothes are not on hangers, they are bundled into giant heaps which the sellers invite buyers to burrow into to find what they are looking for. Often, the best dresses or blouses are buried at the bottom of the pile.

Buyers and sellers jostle for space in the cramped, often muddy, lanes, where the set price of goods is usually so low that it is ridiculous to bargain for anything cheaper. Even so, the more industrious sellers can be heard shouting themselves hoarse, advertising bargains designed to lure even the most reluctant of buyers.

Gikomba pulses with a spirit borne of genuine camaraderie: conversation and laughter punctuate the exchanges between the buyers and sellers.

It is a glorious, chaotic ecosystem that has survived catastrophe after catastrophe, including a terror attack in May last year that killed 12 people and more fires than the traders can count.

Ng’ong’a says he directly employs 15 people, most of whom are casual labourers, and is afraid that they might all be left without a source of income if the East Africa Community goes ahead with the ban.

“I have a degree in commerce which I have never used, but I might be forced to fall back on it if the ban goes through. I am not particularly excited to have to join the overcrowded job market and become a paper pusher because I really love this job,” he says.

And paid employment of another kind is unlikely to match his current earnings: Ng’ong’a reveals that each container imported at £38 574 brings in a profit of over 90%.

Charles Kuria’s store is one floor above Ng’ong’a’s. It is bigger, and filled floor to ceiling with bales of clothes.

Kuria has had this store for almost two years, but he has been in the businessmuch longer, starting from the bottom as a hawker selling a few pieces on the streets to a big time wholesaler who now only sells in bales to retailers.

He imports his stock directly from the UK, the US, Canada and Belgium.

Although Kuria is reluctant to discuss his profit margins, he admits to living a comfortable life where money has ceased to be a worry. His is a business that has a sizeable staff, with four people employed permanently and up to 20 casuals each time new stock comes in.

He says the real casualties of a ban would be the casual workers who depend on odd jobs to earn a living.

“If these people are deprived of an opportunity to make honest wages, they might turn to crime and contribute to making Nairobi an unsafe city,” says Kuria.

Striking a balance

Former Kenya Association of Manufacturers boss Betty Maina is cognisant of the risk that comes with cutting off the second-hand clothes business without a fall back plan for the hundreds of thousands it employs.

In an article for a local media company, Maina says that it is possible to grow the local textile industry without taking jobs from the people who need them the most.

“Granted, the ‘mitumba’ sector is a source of employment and many people earn their livelihood from the business. Measures that would shut down the flourishing trade at a go would not be very welcome.

“But why not streamline activities in the sector in such a way that the local textile industry is able to reap the benefits of providing quality products at an affordable price and at the same time providing thousands of jobs directly and millions more in downstream activities?” she asks.

The thousands involved in the second hand clothes trade will know their fate once the East Africa leaders meet for the November summit, during which the issue is expected to come up.

In the meantime, it remains to be seen how the government will walk the tightrope of reviving the local textile industry without annihilating Gikomba – and the people that thrive on it.

Jacqueline Kubania for the Guardian Africa Network

9 years ago

Silent society: Why is abuse under-reported?

Uruguayan United Nations peacekeepers look through binoculars at M23 rebel positions on the outskirts of Goma, in eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, on November 18, 2012. (Pic: AFP)

Yet another report of sexual abuse by United Nations peacekeepers has come to the fore, revealing that 480 allegations of sexual exploitation and abuse had been made between 2008 and 2013, of which one-third involved minors.

This is not ‘new’ news. UN peacekeepers have a long history of sexually abusing, exploiting and harassing women and children in places they have been appointed to serve, safeguard and stabilise.

Questions begin to arise. What do we do when those tasked with stabilising, destabilise further and those commissioned to protect victims, victimise them further? Where can these victims express their grievances?

This shameful practice by UN mediators has been (re)occurring for years, yet it goes under-reported. Where is the government that should be defending their exploited citizens? Where is our outrage as members of civil society? Where are the voices of the victims themselves?
Why do we not know them? Many stories go untold, cries go unheard and pain goes unfelt.

Read: SA soldiers worst sex offenders on UN missions

There are no answers and even worse, there are no questions. Just silence.

In the words of Dr Martin Luther King Jnr: “In the end we remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends”.

Sometimes I think we live in silent societies.

Silence as children are being trafficked and sold into prostitution amongst other things. Silence as rape victims are encouraged to be quiet and are told that they “tempted” their predators. In many cases, victims contract HIV/AIDS and other STDs and STIs and see an end to their dreams, hopes and very lives. Countless shallow arguments such as “she wasn’t dressed appropriately” and other utter nonsense are used to justify and encourage this rape culture. And let’s not forget teenage pregnancy, prostitution and other repercussions of these atrocities.

Silence as some cultures and communities find no fault in child marriage and force hundreds of girls into this living hell. Can you ponder the scars they carry? The pain goes deeper than the evidence seen on their bodies from the physical violence and abuse that accompany these situations.

There is a trauma that comes from objectification, a disturbance birthed when human beings are subjugated to inhumane conditions.

Authorities display no accountability for their actions and refuse to answer our questions. No questions asked, no answers given, no dialogue, no conversation. Speaking is a privilege our kind of democracy does not endorse. More silence.

Yet there are those who have escaped the prisons of fear and those who still hope and dream of being heard, but they have their spirits crushed by the blatant and brutal reality of having no platform. Still, there is silence.

Despite quietude, I hear rowdy noises of protests and hashtags supporting human rights and dignity and the people behind them, labelled (or sometimes label themselves) as “activists” – yet away from computers, crowds, lights and cameras there is no action. Only silence because in reality, many don’t understand the dynamics of the causes they advocate both on social media and in real life. And sometimes despite their verbosity and polished politics they don’t take too long to show us their ignorance. Who benefits from all these fake revolutions?

Activity at times creates the illusion of mobility.

Silence that is not merely limited to the absence of speech but silence that is the absence of true action and consideration. Lack of consideration as our privileges make us less aware of the plight of others. And to those of us who are aware and not only represent but embody a common struggle, we are bullied, threatened and manipulated into silence.

Conditions may not always permit us to act out the changes we want to make outwardly but that should not discourage us from acting inwardly. Every time we try to understand a situation we act, when we question we act, when we empathise we act, when we pray we act, when we have conversations we act! And this action should never be perceived as worthless in the grand scheme of things. Before anything is manifested on the outside, it has to be established on the inside. The love, understanding, compassion, courage and most importantly hope that we silently build in our hearts is never silence!

I want to hear the voices of the oppressed and I want you to hear them too, even if they are not on the news or radio, even if they are not hashtags, even if they are not on the internet, even if your peers don’t discuss it. Even if the only place we can hear, see and feel their pain is inside ourselves.

Refuse to bask in the oblivion of silence. Refuse to be silenced.

9 years ago

Kenyan protesters warn Obama against bringing up gay rights during visit

Kenyan anti-gay protesters marched in Nairobi on Monday, warning US President Barack Obama not to speak about gay rights when he visits the country of his ancestors later this month.

“We do not want Obama and Obama, we do not want Michelle and Michelle,” they chanted. “We want Obama and Michelle and we want a child!”

Kenyans, some of whom are members of a Christian lobby group, hold a protest against homosexuality in the Nairobi, on July 6, 2015, signalling to US President Barack Obama their opposition to gay rights ahead of his visit to Kenya. (Pic: AFP)

“It is important for us as Kenyans to know that the US is not God, and thus we cannot follow them blindly,” said protest organiser and evangelical Christian pastor Bishop Mark Kariuki.

Kariuki said Obama was welcome to visit “his father’s home” but should not “talk about the gay issue.”

The demonstration drew around 100 people, wearing T-shirts and waving posters with the slogan “Protect The Family”.

It came a day after Kenya’s Deputy President William Ruto, who is on trial at the International Criminal Court in The Hague accused of crimes against humanity, told worshippers at a church service that homosexuality was “against the plan” of God.

“We have heard that in the US they have allowed gay relations and other dirty things,” Ruto said, according to the Daily Nation newspaper.

“I want to say as a Christian leader that we will defend our country Kenya, we will stand for our faith and our country.”

Afraid Obama ‘will preach equality’

Ruto made similar comments in May when US Secretary of State John Kerry visited Kenya.

Homophobia is prevalent in many African countries and gay sex remains illegal in several nations, including Kenya where it was outlawed under British colonial legislation.

The march Monday was organised by the Evangelical Alliance of Kenya, a coalition of several churches.

Obama’s visit later this month will be his fourth to Africa since becoming US president, but his first to Kenya since taking office in 2009. He will also travel to Ethiopia.

Kenyan artist Dayan Masinde, displays a piece of his art in Nairobi on June 26, 2015 depicting US President, Barack Obama with Kenya’s President Uhuru Kenyatta sharing a local dish. (Pic: AFP)

Pro-gay rights activists warned of rising intolerance in Kenya, including attacks on homosexuals and alleged cases of lesbians being raped to “cure” them.

“The anti gay movement is spreading to Kenya… cases of discrimination and violence are increasing because of the very homophobic speeches,” said lawyer Erik Gitari, from the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission.

“Obama has been associated with equality and liberation, being the first black US president. They are afraid that he will preach equality here,” said Gitari.

In conservative Christian and Muslim countries in Africa, homophobia is a vote-winner.

In Uganda, legislators sought the death penalty for homosexuality and although the anti-gay law was watered down and then overturned, ruling party MPs remain eager to see it passed.

Nigeria and Gambia have passed tough new anti-gay laws in recent years, with Gambia’s President Yahya Jammeh, calling homosexuals “ungodly, Satanic… vermins [sic]” in a speech last year.

In Kenya, too, a cross-party parliamentary group is seeking stricter application of existing anti-gay legislation.

9 years ago

Lagos store brings modern African luxury to Nigeria’s rich

The interior of the Alara retail store on Victoria Island, Lagos. (Pic: AFP)

Take a sought-after architect, add the king of “new Africa cuisine” and a smattering of famous designers, and you get a concept-store in Lagos that seeks to bring modern African luxury to Nigeria’s ultra-rich.

The chaotic, cosmopolitan metropolis has largely failed to cater for its mega-rich minority despite a big appetite for high-end shopping and eating in a country that houses 11 of Africa’s 50 biggest fortunes, according to Forbes magazine.

So, Reni Folawiyo, a businesswoman married to one of the 11 – multi-millionaire Tunde Folawiyo – decided to create Alara, a four-storey building housing a mix of African fashion, design and art and a selection of work by Western designers, complete with a gourmet restaurant.

Nestled in the heart of Lagos, the store does not attract droves of shoppers in a country where the vast majority still lives on less than $2 a day, but it already has its share of discreet regulars who rarely leave the building empty-handed.

David Adjaye building

The price tags are in dollars and often count several zeroes, aimed at customers who are used to travelling far and wide and shopping abroad.

But while they can afford items in New York and Paris luxury stores, these don’t necessarily always cater for the tastes of African women or their body shape.

“We like colour, we’re dramatic, adornment is our way of expression,” says Folawiyo.

Enter Alara, which she says is geared towards “the flamboyance of the Africans”, from the retro, multi-coloured dresses by Italian-Haitian designer Stella Jean, futuristic glasses by Kenya’s Cyrus Kabiru to the python bags made by Nigeria’s Zashadu.

The store also has a personal shopping service on offer to cater for customers’ varying needs.

“We are specific in terms of our bodies. We don’t necessarily fit into a sort of international mould, in terms of the size and shape,” says Folawiyo.

The building itself – an imposing black and orange-ochre bloc whose square, openwork patterns bring to mind Nigeria’s traditional Adire textile – was designed by David Adjaye.

The store is the first major work on African soil by the British architect of Ghanaian origin, who is also behind Washington’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, among others.

‘A cultural re-awakening’

It’s a first for Nigerian designer Duro Olowu too, who grew up in Lagos but now spends his time between London and New York.

The man who counts US First Lady Michelle Obama among his customers had initially refused to have his creations sold in Lagos, but was so taken by Alara that he allowed the store to showcase them.

“Lagos was seen as a mishmash of badly presented things,” Olowu says of the 20-million-strong heaving city better known for its giant traffic jams and poor infrastructure.

“I wanted my clothes to be stocked somewhere that represented everything I believed in. And Alara is stylish but also cultural.

“This store is also a place where young people can walk in and be inspired,” he added.

Fashion aside, a gourmet restaurant is also due to open soon on the ground floor.

The menu will be drawn up by Senegalese chef Pierre Thiam, one of the biggest names in contemporary African cuisine who owns several restaurants in New York.

Like Olowu, this is his first collaboration in Africa, which he left in 1989 but still remains his main source of inspiration.

On the menu, dishes that blend African street food with Western classics such as millet and peanut lamb risotto, quail grilled with suya spices typical of northern Nigeria, hibiscus tart served with palm leaf, coconut and lime flavoured ice cream.

“I wanted this place to be a cultural reawakening, bringing what we’ve known as Africans into the new world,” says Folawiyo.

9 years ago

A killer app for Africa’s ‘telephone farmers’

IBM scientist Kala Fleming, who leads its research in the area of water management. (Photo: IBM)

When you think of an African farmer, the first image that will probably come to mind is that of an old man in the village, probably dressed in shabby clothes that have seen better days.

Indeed, a recent report by the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) indicated that in Africa, the average age of farmers is about 60, despite the fact that 60% of Africa’s population is under 24 years of age.

Rural youth have been leaving the farms for cities in droves for years now; between 1960 and 2010, the continent’s urban population grew from 53 million to 400 million; by 2030, the number of Africans living in towns and cities will increase by another 345 million.

With aged parents left behind tending the farm, it raises questions about future prospects for increasing farm productivity as Africa’s demand for food grows larger.

However, there is some good news; there’s a new generation of farmers coming up in many cities who represent the future of African farming.

New urban tech farmer

They are young, tech-savvy, resident in the city, probably employed full-time in an office job, but own some land in a peri-urban or rural area that they inherited from their parents, or bought as an investment.

They travel to their out-of-town farms only on weekends, hiring a farm manager to take care of the everyday running of the farm, and frequently telephoning to check on progress.

With demand for fruits, vegetables, meat, milk and eggs soaring as African cities grow larger, it’s a solid investment that can give lucrative returns.

But many ‘telephone farmers’ struggle to keep up with what’s really happening on the ground.

You can’t really get a true sense of how the crops are doing from conversations on the phone with a farm manager. (Photo: Flickr/ ICT4D)

This is where IBM Research Africa sees and opportunity, with a new innovation they call EZ-Farm.

It’s a nifty combination of a soil moisture sensor, a water tank level monitor and – best of all – an infrared camera that monitors plant health.

Big Data

The soil moisture sensor looks like an electrode that is placed in the ground, and sends data to the IBM cloud on the level of water availability.

The water tank monitor is installed on the inside cover of a water tank, and measures the level of water still in the tank by acoustic waves, like what bats use in echolocation. It sends out a sound wave and detects how long it takes to be reflected back, by this you can gauge how deep the water is in the tank.

But the “killer app” is the plant health monitor that uses infrared light to monitor soil health.

Plants absorb red and blue light to fuel photosynthesis, but reflect green and infrared light (it’s the reason why plants look green to our eyes).

With the infrared camera, one can detect the areas in the plant of intense photosynthesis, where blue light is being absorbed and infrared light reflected. If the plant isn’t getting enough water, or is stressed in any way, photosynthesis will slow down, and less infrared light will be reflected.

By this, a farmer can really “see” whether the plants are coming along nicely, or not,; like a finger on a pulse, it’s a kind of vegetative “vital sign” that can provide an early warning if a plant’s health is failing – even if your farm manager or relative in the countryside doesn’t call to tell you.

All this Big Data is collected every minute of every day, and sent to the IBM cloud, where it delivers up-to-the-minute insight about current and predicted water and soil moisture levels to farmers, via desktop and mobile apps – specific to that particular farm, going by the “optimum health” from the plant stress monitor.

It’s the kind of granular, highly targeted and tech-friendly farm management system that telephone farmers in Nairobi are already scrambling to get their hands on.

IBM says EZ-farm is still in the pilot phase, though they have already received dozens of requests.

The company is looking to have the devices assembled locally in Kenya, but their biggest challenge going forward is finding a local manufacturer who can deliver on the specs in the large volumes that will be required very soon.

Christine Mungai for MG Africa