Seventeen pairs of jeans, forty-five shirts, seven dresses– all brand new with tags. My closet is overfilled. However, I find solace knowing that I can donate my clothing to a local charity donation facility, allowing me to shop for new closet additions, guilt-free. 

Donating to secondhand stores is practically environmental activism and social philanthropy, right? Not quite. In fact, shoppers only buy a small percentage of the clothes sold in secondhand stores. Most donated clothes from the Global North will end up in Africa, infiltrating local customs and economies. In Nigeria, imported second-hand clothes are nicknamed “the clothes of dead whites” and in Mozambique, “clothing of the calamity.” My well-intended trips to the donation center have failed to consider the global inequalities tied to my garments’ afterlife.

Clothes donated to charitable organizations, like Salvation Army and Goodwill, often end up in  African marketplaces through a complex and lucrative global supply chain. Commercial textile recyclers buy unwanted clothes from the West and Asia in bulk and sell them to African wholesalers. In 2017, East Africa imported $274 million worth of used clothing. Kenya alone imported 144,000 tons of clothes in 2016, which easily fills 667 American football fields. Secondhand clothes overfill African marketplaces, with shirts selling for a few dollars and jeans for a few more. 

Outdoor marketplaces in Tanzania full of secondhand clothing. (Source: CBC)

Marketplaces in sub-saharan Africa bustle with local vendors whose incomes are supported by this international clothing trade. In East Africa, this billion dollar industry has created 355,000 jobs and supports arounds 1.4 million livelihoods. So why did the East African Community (EAC), comprising Rwanda, South Sudan, Tanzania, Burundi, Kenya and Uganda, vote to ban the import of used clothes in 2015?

The cheap cast-offs of Western consumers have unintentionally created a commodity chain that perpetuates poverty. African consumers have turned to these cheap garments as an alternative to locally produced clothing. Sub-saharan garment and textile industries have collapsed as local manufacturers and independent tailors are unable to compete with the cheap price tags of imported clothing.  Many Malawians don’t have any choice but to wear second-hand clothing. It is all they can afford. 

Not only are clothing imports undercutting African clothing industries, but they are also driving a shift from traditional dress to Western trends amongst African youth. With Western fashion trends spreading through social media, younger generation have begun taking a new interest in Western donations. With the rise of social media, Western fashion trends have reached Africa’s younger generations, creating a new appeal for Western donations. Fortunately, tailors who specialize in traditional dress have not  run out of business, as they are not in direct competition with the secondhand markets that supply Western-style clothing. 

In hope to revive local garment industries, the East African Community (EAC) announced in 2015 that used clothing imports would be banned by 2019. For Rwanda, reclaiming this industry meant more than economic prosperity. Wearing locally-made garments and ridding hand-me-downs from the West restored a sense of dignity. 

In response, the Trump Administration threatened to suspend EAC countries from the African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA) over fears of American job losses. Established in 2000, AGOA enables thousands African exports, including oil, apparel, and produce, to enter the American market duty-free. Trump’s opposition comes from the fear of job loss. This ban would eliminate 40,000 US jobs and $124 million in exports. 

Rwanda was the only country to resist US pressures and doubled taxes on imported donations, despite the hardships that secondhand merchants and shoppers might face. Other countries, like Kenya, conceded to US pressures due to greater stakes and benefits from the US trade act, compared to Rwanda. In 2018, the US suspended Rwanda from AGOA, and began levying taxes on exports to the US market. 

“This is about the dignity of our people, CEO of the Rwanda Development Board argues,”citizens deserve better than becoming the recipients of discarded clothes from the Western world.” Rwanda’s government launched a campaign called “Made in Rwanda” to garner support for local tailors, artists, and manufacturers, and succeeded in carving out a sustainable economic future for local manufacturing. Since raising taxes on secondhand clothing, Rwanda has seen a $2 million growth in domestic textile industries and estimates 25,000 new jobs. 

Rwandan designer, Muhire Patrick, with his collection. (Source: The New York Times)

With rapid consumerism comes rapid waste production, so much that we don’t even know what to do with. Too often, clothing is left unconsidered. With the convenience of shopping and cheap price tags, the US promotes a throw-away culture– one that I am guilty of engaging in. Rather than evaluating our donated clothes as philanthropic, we ought to consider how “the clothes of dead whites” that end up in Nigeria are unwelcomed and corroding local livelihoods. By resisting fast fashion and wasteful consumerism, individuals in the West can reduce the surplus of donated clothes that end up doing more harm than good.