Lesotho textile workers left in rags
April 28, 2005
By Basildon Peta
A phenomenon known as the Chinese tsunami has swept through this tiny kingdom leaving thousands in abject poverty, writes Basildon Peta in Maputsoe, Lesotho.
When Lisebo Tsebo's Chinese employers abruptly shut their textile factory and vanished without paying wages, she tried to commit suicide by drinking a mixture of insecticide and rat poison.
She was one of nearly 10 000 workers to lose their jobs in six major factory closures in Lesotho over the past four months - all of which were triggered by the re-entry of Beijing into world textile markets.
The upsurge of Chinese imports into the European Union has led to China being warned of possible retaliatory measures by the EU. But as the world mobilised to the "Make Poverty History" campaign, nothing was said about how rich countries might help the vulnerable developing states suffering from the impact of what is known here as the Chinese tsunami.
For the impoverished African kingdom of Lesotho, the phenomenon simply spells disaster. Across southern Africa, hundreds of thousands of people have already lost their jobs in the textile sector.
Tsebo (37) got her first job ever in 2000 after Taiwanese and Chinese investors descended on this dirt-poor town in 1999 to build garment and textile factories.
They came in response to the then US President Bill Clinton's Africa Growth and Opportunity Act, aimed at lifting sub- Saharan Africa out of its perennial squalor.
The countries which lived by the rules - ranging from good governance and respect for human rights - would enjoy priority access to the lucrative US market, exporting textiles and other products under a preferential duty arrangement.
Lesotho, with its cheap labour, became a natural attraction for the Asian investors seeking to avoid global textile trade quotas then in force against Asia.
But as a result of the expiry of the textile quota system in January, coupled with the headlong plunge of the US dollar against the South African rand, American buyers are no longer coming to Lesotho. The quota system restricted cheap Chinese exports to the developed world for decades.
Lesotho-based producers can no longer compete with the cheap goods being dumped into the American market by China's powerful garment industry after it was freed from the quota system.
The rand, which has more than doubled in value against the dollar, has equally doubled Lesotho-based manufacturers' costs.
The textile sector had become the biggest single employer in Lesotho, accounting for virtually every manufacturing job and the bulk of exports.
When the Chinese arrived, Tsebo no longer had to scavenge for food on dump sites for her two children, four siblings and unemployed father.
Although she could not afford to send her children to school, her income was enough to buy a bag of maize and relish to see the family through to the next pay cheque. Now, she is facing a return to the nightmare of the rubbish dumps.
The dusty town of Maputsoe had begun to acquire a new face as Lesotho's textiles hub. Sewing machines were humming stitching T-shirts, sweaters and jeans destined solely for US stores - Wal-Mart, JC Penney, Hanes and other big traders.
Many of the factories have now fallen silent.
Jennifer Chen, managing director of Shining Century Limited, is one of the remaining major textile employers. She says she has just retrenched 300 of her 1 500-strong workforce, because the "orders from America simply aren't coming".
She predicts more cutbacks are inevitable unless politicians in rich countries use their political power to stop Chinese dumping and create a rescue deal for vulnerable countries like Lesotho.
In 2002, Lesotho garment factories only had to sell an average of $50-$55 (about R300 to R330) worth of clothing to the US to cover a single monthly factory wage of R650, says Mrs Chen. They now have to sell an average of $109 to $115 to pay the same wage.
"And to cap the disaster, orders from America are becoming less and less," she says. "For many of us, it's traumatic as we don't see any hope."
While she can produce 700 000 garments for export to America each month, her factory is now running at far below that capacity.
Meanwhile, the Clinton scheme has been rendered meaningless as it now makes more sense for factories to relocate to China - where labour is even cheaper - and join the dumping bandwagon.
Some of the biggest employers just deserted their factories and disappeared, leaving workers stranded - no salaries or job termination benefits.
Thabo Mohaleroe, executive director of the Lesotho Textiles Exporters' Association, says employers had largely predicted the problems that would arise when the global quota system expired. But no one had foreseen the "tragic coincidence" of the plunge in the dollar and the surge in the rand, which is directly pegged to the Lesotho currency, the Maloti.
South Africa itself has lost more than 30 000 jobs in its textile sector. In Swaziland and Namibia it is predicted that an estimated three in every four jobs will be lost by the end of June. In Lesotho, where unemployment has reached 40%, the textile job losses are unaffordable in a country where textiles account for 90% of all export earnings, says Mohaleroe.
Billy Macaefa, general secretary of Lesotho's Factory Workers' Union, is furious because of those remaining in employment, 10 000 workers have been put on short-term. That means they are only called to work as and when their labour is needed.
But people like Mathabiso Mabalela, whose husband died and who has to feed six children, have not been called for any short-term duty since January Macaefa says: "We do appreciate the problems but we feel this short-term business is a criminal abuse of workers. It's a linguistic excuse for them not to fire workers and pay benefits. Survival is virtually impossible for anyone on short-term."
Last week, at least 700 workers gathered outside the gates of Kingyang Garments, the latest of the factories to close. They had been promised two months' outstanding pay after the factory shut, but found nobody on the premises except security guards.
Puleng Choboakane did not know, or care, about the problems of the US dollar and the expiry of the global quota system which have cost her her job. "All I know is that I am very hungry and I need my pay," says Choboakane.
David Mpopo, a local regional union official, who was on hand to attempt to help the workers, says: "We have run out of ideas ... we've been badly hit by this Chinese tsunami."
Peter Molapi, chief executive of the government-run Lesotho National Development Cooperation says the Lesotho government is now assessing the financial health of remaining firms.
It will no longer allow employers to close shop and vanish without paying workers in a country which has no social security system.
The government says it is now trying to help manufacturers save costs by, among other measures, cutting rentals to those operating from government premises and deferring income tax. There have been no wage increases in the textile sector for two years. Molapi sees still more job losses.
"Realising that we may lose this sector, our strategy is on salvaging as much as we can," he says.
Consultations are underway with the Bush administration to implement safeguards against Chinese exports into the US. Attempts will be made to diversify into other markets such as Canada and Australia though these might only bring small rewards compared with America.
Mohaleroe sees no light at the end of the tunnel despite four high-level visits to the US to plead with the Bush administration to stop the Chinese tsunami by introducing safeguards.
He says the only other source of salvation could be British Prime Minister Tony Blair's intervention through his Commission for Africa Project.
The premier could woo the Bush administration and other rich countries to safeguard imports from poor countries against the unfair Chinese competition.
Macaefa, who is also a member of Lesotho's Parliament, adds: "The Chinese tsunami has created more poverty by extensive job losses. The best Mr Blair can do is stop it by vigorously campaigning for the opening of EU markets and having a sound chat with Mr Bush."
So far the EU has not been willing to open discussions on textile imports into Europe. "They have to open up for us," says Mohaleroe. "If they want to help us get rid of poverty, then we say to them give us the markets, not pounds and euros in loans, accompanied by European experts who draw fat salaries from the same loans."
Manthabiseng Mureki, whose child recently died after eating a contaminated apple from a dump site, seems to have found humour in her suffering since her employers disappeared in January.
She has the words "suffer continue" on the back of her torn T-shirt. Her message is true for thousands of textile workers across southern Africa. - Independent Foreign Service. |
