East Africa wants to curb imports of used clothes. But it’s not easy

East Africa wants to curb imports of used clothes. But it’s not easy

East Africa wants to curb imports – Heavy rain couldn’t deter shoppers from Gikomba, Kenya’s bustling open-air market, which remains the region’s largest hub for second-hand garments. Despite waterlogged sections and cramped aisles, crowds navigated the chaos in rubber boots, searching for the market’s signature wares. The second-hand clothing trade, fueled by imports from the United States, Europe, and China, has long been a challenge for East Africa’s economic growth. How can local fashion industries flourish when competition comes from cheap, second-hand items that flood the market?

For Kenya’s Zia Africa, a womenswear brand founded by Zia Bett, the issue is clear: “We’re competing with second-hand clothing, but we can’t match the price.” The same sentiment echoes in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, where Elizabeth Paul, owner of Kuya Creations, notes that customers often choose affordability over quality. “In my shop, the minimum price for a dress is 50,000 Tanzanian shillings. People say, ‘For that amount, I can buy ten second-hand dresses instead,’” she explains. These stories highlight the economic tug-of-war between local producers and the influx of inexpensive, pre-loved clothing.

The East African Community (EAC) has grappled with this dilemma for years. A decade ago, the bloc considered a blanket ban on second-hand imports, aiming to shield domestic industries. But the plan faced resistance, particularly from the U.S., which pushed back with strong lobbying. Now, the debate has reignited, as nations like Uganda take bold steps. The Ugandan government, once critical of the trade, introduced a 30% additional tax on used clothing to support local manufacturing and reduce environmental harm.

Kenya, a key EAC member, also sought to reform its approach. Initially, it proposed a new tax structure to simplify import processes, but the plan met swift opposition. Concerns about rising prices for consumers forced the government to withdraw the proposal from its Finance Bill. Yet, Kenya already imposes a 30% customs duty on used clothing—higher than the cost of shipping new garments—suggesting its commitment to curbing the trade. According to the Observatory of Economic Complexity (OEC), Kenya leads Africa in importing second-hand clothes, known locally as “mitumba,” with nearly 180,000 tonnes arriving in 2022, a 76% surge since 2013.

In Uganda, second-hand clothing remains the most popular choice, according to a 2024 report by the government-funded Economic Policy Research Centre. Imported new garments follow, with locally made products trailing far behind. The new 30% environmental levy on used clothing adds to existing taxes, including a 35% import duty and 18% VAT. While the bill aims to “mitigate environmental degradation and promote domestic production,” critics argue it could disrupt the informal economy that relies on the trade.

Aaron Sekky, a Ugandan mitumba trader, voiced his concerns to the BBC. “This has to be a free economy. The second-hand trade supports so many people,” he says. Beyond individual retailers like Sekky, the supply chain involves importers, wholesalers, tailors who repair damaged items, and food vendors at the markets. Though there’s no official data on employment numbers, research by the Mitumba Consortium Association of Kenya (MCAK) estimates that up to 4.9 million people in East Africa depend on the second-hand clothing industry for livelihoods.

However, some argue the employment argument is overstated. Dr. Andrew Brooks, a King’s College London academic and author of *Clothing Poverty: The Hidden World of Fast Fashion and Second-hand Clothes*, points out that retail jobs offer limited economic contribution compared to production, marketing, and distribution. “If you’re just importing and selling, you’re doing very little to boost the nation’s economy,” he says. Lisa Kibutu, a board member of the Kenya Fashion Council, agrees. She describes many mitumba-related jobs as “hand-to-mouth” roles, lacking long-term stability or social mobility. Yet, she also acknowledges the trade’s role in making clothing accessible to all, even the poorest citizens.

Despite the challenges, the second-hand clothing trade continues to thrive. In Kenya, it has become a lifeline for many, providing affordable options in a region where economic disparities persist. Kibutu recalls her own experience in the 1980s, when people in Kenya often went without basic attire. “Today, even the poorest person has decent clothing,” she says. This affordability, however, comes at a cost. Local brands face an uphill battle, struggling to compete with the sheer volume and low prices of imported second-hand goods.

The EAC’s efforts to shift the balance are part of a broader strategy to revive the regional textile sector. Uganda’s new tax and Kenya’s previous proposal reflect a desire to incentivize domestic production. But these measures also risk alienating a critical part of the economy. For many, the second-hand trade isn’t just about cost—it’s about opportunity. “This industry creates jobs, sustains families, and keeps people clothed,” Sekky argues. Yet, as environmental and economic concerns grow, the question remains: can East Africa strike a sustainable balance between protecting local industries and preserving the livelihoods of millions?

With data showing a steady rise in used clothing imports, the EAC faces a complex task. While policies like the 30% environmental levy aim to address ecological impact, they must also account for the social and economic role of the trade. The debate underscores a fundamental tension: should East Africa prioritize growth through domestic production, or maintain the affordability that keeps millions clothed? As the region continues to navigate this dilemma, the answer may depend on how effectively it can support both local brands and the vibrant network of traders that keeps the mitumba market alive.

Still, the appeal of second-hand clothing is undeniable. For many East Africans, it’s a practical solution to economic constraints. The garments, often discounted or free, allow households to stretch their budgets while maintaining style. But as the EAC seeks to reshape the market, it must also weigh the potential consequences of its actions. Will tighter regulations boost local industries, or will they push the trade underground, leaving millions without a steady source of income?

The road to a thriving fashion industry in East Africa is paved with challenges. From the congested markets of Gikomba to the policy debates in Ugandan and Kenyan legislatures, the second-hand clothing trade remains a cultural and economic fixture. As governments strive to modernize the sector, the question is not just about reducing imports—it’s about redefining what it means to create, sustain, and transform an industry that has long been the backbone of everyday life.