The African migrants giving up on the Chinese dream (see photos)
Guangzhou, China The heart of Little Africa -- or Chocolate City, as it has been dubbed by some -- is not easy to locate without a tip-off.
At
the foot of an unremarkable tunnel, peeling off the busy Little North
Road, in Guangzhou, stands a place that just two years ago was totally
unlike the rest of China.
Angolan
women carried bin bags of shopping on their heads, Somali men in long
robes peddled currency exchange, Uygur restaurateurs slaughtered lamb on
the street, Congolese merchants ordered wholesale underwear from
Chinese-run shops, Nigerian men hit the Africa Bar for a Tsingtao and
plate of jollof rice.
Dengfeng -- a previously quiet urban village, or chengzhongcun, in central Guangzhou -- had been electrified by migration, both from internal Chinese migrants and those from Africa.
By 2012, as many as 100,000 Sub-Saharan Africans had flocked to Guangzhou, according to Professor Adams Bodomo's book "Africans in China"
-- if true, it would have been the largest African expat community in
Asia -- all chasing the same dream of getting rich in China.
Today, that dream is fading -- if not finished.
Over the past 18 months, although
concrete numbers are hard to come by, hundreds -- perhaps even
thousands -- of Africans are believed by locals and researchers to have
exited Guangzhou.
A dollar drought
in oil-dependent West African nations, coupled with China's hostile
immigration policies, widespread racism, and at-once slowing and
maturing economy, means Guangzhou is losing its competitive edge.
A promised land?
Guangzhou sits 120 kilometers (75 miles) north-west of Hong Kong, often laboring under a haze of stifling gray smog.
Africans
began pouring into this landscape of factories, producing everything
from washing machines to fake Levi's jeans, in the mid-1990s.
China's economy had recently opened up and, in 2000, Beijing hosted the first Forum on China-Africa Cooperation, spearheading a campaign to court good relations with resource-rich African nations.
By 2014, trade flows between Africa and China had exceeded U.S. trade with the continent by more than $120 billion, and more than 1 million Chinese had uprooted to the African continent.
As Chinatowns emerged in Lagos and Conakry, more Africans started thinking about China.
The
type of Africans who migrated to China, however, were different to
those moving West, Roberto Castillo, a lecturer in African Studies at
Hong Kong University, tells CNN.
"Those
people [going to Europe] are usually disenfranchised, with no
opportunities, looking to settle," he says. "Africans in China are much
more entrepreneurial. Many of them have the financial capability to move
around and explore new places."
Indeed, 40% of African migrants surveyed for "Africans in China" had received at least tertiary education. Some held a PhD.
As
Somali trader Ali Mohamed Ali, a university graduate in insurance
working in logistics in Guangzhou, says: "My five brothers and sisters
all went to Europe: they ended up as cab drivers or security guards."
Heading East, he says, there was opportunity for something greater.
Madina
Diallo says that in 2002 he would export 250 containers a year,
containing everything from mattresses to pop corn machines. By selling
these goods in his native, Guinea, he could make up to $1,500 on each
container, or $375,000 a year -- a genuine fortune in a nation where the
gross national income per capita is $470.
Other entrepreneurial Africans set up cargo shipping firms operating out of the the Port of Guangzhou.
Fake goods were also a cash cow.
Moustapha
Dieng, a former airplane engineer in the Senegalese air force, says
that in the early 2000s, Africans were "still importing original Nike
and Adidas from the United States".
"When we started buying fake goods from China, we could sell them in Senegal for the same price [as the real American goods]. Nobody knew about China and its fakes. Our profit was more than 100%."
Guangzhou became a promised land, and more Africans arrived.
The Little Diplomats
Felly Mwamba is one of Guangzhou's "little diplomats".
Each
African country has an "ambassador" in the Chinese city -- voted for by
expatriates from that nation -- who liaises with the Chinese police,
arbitrates internal disputes, and organizes community events.
The ambassador also keeps track of the
population of his community; migrants usually informally register with
their community leader upon arrival in Guangzhou, for support.
Mwamba says that in 2006 there were 1,200 Congolese in Little Africa. Today he believes that figure has plummeted to 500.
"Ambassadors" for Guinea and Senegal report similar drops.
Emmanuel Ojukwu, head of Africans in China |
Emmanuel
Ojukwu, the self-proclaimed Head of Africans in China, and the
ambassador of the Nigerian community -- one of the largest African
groups in Guangzhou -- is despondently spread out on a sofa inside a
clothing warehouse, where the halls are eerily devoid of customers.
"So many people went home at Christmas and did not return," he says.
The true scale of the African population
in Guangzhou is hard to ascertain due to the itinerant nature of many
traders -- some enter and exit the city multiple times per year -- and
the thousands who overstay their visas.
Castillo
believes the Chinese government itself has no accurate idea of the
African population's size, although at the height of the Ebola crisis in
late 2014, it said just 16,000 Africans called the city home.
The streets of Little Africa certainly seem quieter than when I first visited 2 years ago.
"There
is, indeed, an apparent lessening number of Africans in the city," says
Gordon Mathews, a professor of anthropology at the Chinese University
of Hong Kong, who has studied globalization in Guangzhou.
China losing competitive edge
One reason the Chinese dream is today failing Africans is the maturing Chinese economy.
Firstly,
as China's profile rose globally, African consumers realized they were
buying bootleg not bona fide goods, and naturally wanted to pay less,
says Dieng.
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