On the banks of the Korle Lagoon, in the Ghanaian capital of Accra, an escarpment towers at the water\u2019s edge, cattle grazing on its summit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This ragged cliff, some 20 metres high, is formed not of earth or stone, but of landfill. Most of it \u2014 an estimated 60 per cent \u2014 is unwanted clothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These were garments shipped to Ghana ostensibly for resale and reuse, many sourced from clothing bins and charity collections.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But a huge proportion were never worn again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some 15 million used garments pour into Accra every week from the UK, Europe, North America and Australia, flooding the city\u2019s sprawling clothing market.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
An estimated 40 per cent are of such poor quality they are deemed worthless on arrival and end up dumped in landfill.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As global clothing consumption skyrockets, fed by ruthless \u201cfast fashion\u201d brands, it\u2019s creating an environmental catastrophe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The clothes arrive long before dawn, when the city has yet to stir. Headlights ablaze, semitrailers squeeze into ever-narrower alleys, disgorging hundreds of bales wrapped in bright orange plastic. Men and women, some bearing clipboards, inspect the goods and dispatch them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some of the clothes will cross Ghana, others will go as far as Burkina Faso or C\u00f4te d\u2019Ivoire. But most will be dispersed within West Africa\u2019s biggest second-hand clothing exchange \u2014 Accra\u2019s Kantamanto markets, a bustling labyrinth of 5,000 retailers and their timber stalls, many of them overflowing with the West\u2019s unwanted fashion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Competition for customers is fierce. Clothes are spruiked by song and are quickly discounted by day\u2019s end. Entrepreneurs seize high-end pieces with minor defects that can be mended and dyed and put back on sale for a premium.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Many of the clothes donated to op shops end up in Kantamanto market, in the Ghanaian capital Accra.<\/a> Foreign Correspondent: Andrew Greaves<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n But transporting the 55kg bales around the teeming bazaar, with its narrow passageways and thousands of customers, is impossible by mechanical means. So the job falls to Accra\u2019s ranks of head porters, or kayayei, \u201cthe women who carry the burden\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Since she was 12 years old, Aisha Iddrisu has been one such woman. With no work in her remote northern village, Iddrisu has travelled back and forth to Accra for work, now with her 18-month-old son Sheriff. She tries to earn enough money to send some back to the rest of her family, including her nine-year-old daughter. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI didn\u2019t have much choice,\u201d she told Foreign Correspondent, \u201cbecause I didn\u2019t know how else I can take care of my children if I don\u2019t come. I am not happy with this situation, but I need the money.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The work is far from lucrative \u2014 Iddrisu earns about $4.50 a day. It\u2019s also notoriously hazardous; everyone seems to know a woman who has suffered a grave injury. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSome of them get severely injured and they are sent back to the north because they can\u2019t do the job again,\u201d Iddrisu said. \u201cWhen they get there, they\u2019re unable to do any work because of the injuries.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Still, Iddrisu credits the second-hand clothing industry with helping her find employment. And there are many who would agree. The local used-clothing dealers\u2019 association claims the industry has created 2.5 million jobs \u2014 a figure as plausible as it is impossible to verify.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Wander around Accra and every spare inch of pavement seems occupied by a hawker, a new batch of old clothing folded and hung among their wares. They call them \u201cobroni wawu\u201d \u2014 dead white man\u2019s clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The trade in second-hand clothing has steadily grown in Accra, just as it has around the world. Every year as many as 4 million tonnes of used textiles are shipped across the planet in a trade estimated to be worth $4.6 billion. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In Accra, where some 60 containers of used clothes arrive every week, the industry can be highly profitable. But it carries an unusual business risk. Importers can spend as much as $95,000 on a container of clothes and have no idea what they\u2019re buying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s only once a bale has been opened that the quality of the clothing is discovered. If it\u2019s in good condition, profits can tally quickly to as much as $14,000. But if the clothes are torn or stained, or long out of fashion, their importer may as well have put a torch to their money. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In the swarming Kantamanto Market, young traders, even friends, can briefly become fierce competitors when a prize new bale arrives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a lot at stake \u2014 if they don\u2019t grab the best clothes they don\u2019t make money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Emmanuel Ajaab has fought his way to the top of the industry; he\u2019s now one of the market\u2019s more prominent importers. He stands atop a pyramid of resellers and traders who each find a margin to carve off for themselves. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI have about 100 to 150 customers who buy from me here,\u201d Ajaab said. \u201cAnd remember, those that buy from me, they are going to sell it and to many other people too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ajaab is a firm believer in the power of his industry to create opportunity. It\u2019s certainly been true of himself. His business has not only provided jobs for his immediate family but also the capital to invest elsewhere. He now owns a construction business which competes for his time.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n When importers find good-quality clothes, profits are there for the taking.<\/a> Foreign Correspondent: Andrew Greaves<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n In Ghana, they call them \u201cobroni wawu\u201d \u2014 dead white man\u2019s clothes.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n But the clothes business is not what it once was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSeventeen years back [when I started] it was good,\u201d said Ajaab, \u201cbut now what they are bringing to Africa, to Ghana \u2026 they are continuing to reduce the quality that was given to us. Now it\u2019s very bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n As I watched, Ajaab opened a bale from Australia and quickly separated out those clothes which might be resold at a decent price, from those which were worth far less. Familiar labels flashed by: Suzanne Grae, Target, Zara, Billabong, Just Jeans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Emmanuel Ajaab sorts a bale of clothing from Australia into what can be resold and what will be dumped.<\/a> Foreign Correspondent: Andrew Greaves<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Very few landed on his high-quality pile. Of the 180 light summer jackets inside, 85 pieces were unsaleable: collars ringed with sweat, buttons missing, bloodstains on the sleeve. He threw his hands in the air. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s an insult,\u201d he said. \u201cAssume you use your money to buy this bale. How are you going to survive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The bale had cost him $90. In the end, he sold $20 worth of clothes. The rest were put out with the rubbish. And it\u2019s happening more frequently. \u201cWe don\u2019t know what is going on,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd if we complain to them \u2026 to our suppliers, they say that what they get is what they are giving.\u201d<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n