People pack the crowded sidewalks that traverse a sizable outdoor market in the capital of Uganda, jostling for space. The majority of them are searching for used apparel, checking through pairs of underwear for ones that appear to be brand new, or trying on shoes despite being shoved around in the crowd.
Owino Market in downtown Kampala has long been a sought-after destination for both rich and poor individuals looking for reasonably priced but well-made secondhand clothing, supporting the idea that Western design is superior to that produced locally.
These garments were discarded by Americans and Europeans before being transported to African nations by middlemen. Approximately two-thirds of people in seven countries in East Africa “purchased at least a portion of their clothes from the secondhand clothing market,” according to the most recent survey providing these specifics, conducted by the U.S. Agency for International Development in 2017.
Despite their appeal, secondhand clothing is coming under more and more criticism. Yoweri Museveni, the semi-authoritarian president of Uganda who has been in office since 1986, announced in August that he was outlawing the importation of secondhand garments because it came “from dead people.”
“When a white person dies, they gather their clothes and send them to Africa,” Museveni said.
The president’s instruction needs to be supported by a formal instrument, such as an executive order, and trade officials have not yet enforced it.
As the practise amounts to dumping and threatens the development of regional textile businesses, other African governments are also attempting to halt the shipments. Since 2016, the East African Community trade group, which includes Burundi, Congo, Kenya, Rwanda, South Sudan, Tanzania, and Uganda, has advocated for a ban on the importation of used clothing. Due to pressure from Washington, member nations have not implemented it as quickly.
In Uganda, the president’s order has spread panic among traders, for whom such a ban, if implemented, spells disaster. They hawk used clothes in scores of large open-air markets across the country of 45 million people, at roadside stands and even in shops in malls where it’s possible to buy secondhand clothes marketed as new.
A pair of denim trousers may be purchased for 20 cents, and a cashmere scarf can be purchased for even less as traders make place for new shipments.
Glen Kalungi, a clothing reseller, visited one of Uganda’s Green Shops, a chain that specialises in secondhand clothing, to look for items his clients might be interested in, like vintage jeans for men and cotton blouses for women.
“I am a thrift shopper,” he said. “I usually come to these Green Shops to check out clothes because they have the best prices around town.”
Read also: German minister calls out shipments of used clothing to Africa.
Kalungi prefers to go during sale periods when he can purchase clothing for pennies on the dollar. Then he makes money by selling them.
At its three locations, the chain, whose owners include Europeans, releases new clothing every two weeks. Retail manager Allan Zavuga revealed that some of the products were purchased from suppliers in China and Germany, among other nations.
“How they collect the clothes, we are not aware of that,” Zavuga said of their suppliers. “But (the clothes) go through all the verification, the fumigation, all that, before they are shipped to Uganda. And we get all documents for that.”
According to him, the Green Shops recycle used clothing in large quantities, making them environmentally benign.
An outright ban on used clothing is opposed by the Kampala-based group of traders, or KACITA, who instead advocate a gradual embargo that would give local garment manufacturers time to increase production to meet demand.
Winfred Arinaitwe, a Ugandan clothing manufacturer, acknowledges that the quality of fabric produced locally is frequently subpar. Unsurprisingly, a lot of individuals choose to purchase worn apparel, she noted.
“Because it lasts longer,” she said. “It can easily be seen.”
Many people in Owino Market, including some who claim they don’t believe the president’s threat was real, find it impossible to imagine a ban on secondhand clothing.
A prohibition, according to Abdulrashid Ssuuna, who tries to convince market patrons to visit his brother’s used clothing store, would make him unable to support himself.
“It’s like they want to chase us out of the country,” he said of the president’s order. “From these old clothes, we get what to eat. If you say we leave this business, you are saying we go into new clothes. But we can’t afford to go there.”
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In Owino Market, Ssuuna approaches shoppers to get them to stop by the stall where his brother sells used clothing. Merchants sit behind piles of clothing and scream greetings to potential clients in the fiercely contested market.
If he assists his brother in selling clothing, “I get something,” claimed Ssuuna, who began this occupation in 2020 after quitting high school.
The market is constantly bustling with shoppers, but commerce is uncertain. Traders must attempt to foresee what the customers will want before they are seduced by competing vendors.
Read also: Growing amounts of textile waste difficult for Kenya to recycle.
According to used-clothes merchant Tadeo Walusimbi, who has been in business for six years, some days are better than others. He cautioned that a government prohibition was just unworkable.
It “will not work for me and for so many people,” Walusimbi said.
