Written by Abigail Appoh
Abigail Appoh is a final-year student at the University of Media, Arts and Communication – Institute of Journalism (UniMAC–IJ), where she explores the power of storytelling to spark environmental awareness. As an advocate for sustainability and digital empowerment, she blends creativity with purpose to spotlight real issues in her community. Abigail is passionate about shaping narratives that inspire young people to find their voice and make meaningful change.
Fashion has always been a way for people to express themselves, but in Ghana, it has also become a reminder of a global system that treats some lives as more disposable than others.
Every week, thousands of bales of second-hand clothing arrive at our ports. Some of it is useful, but a shocking amount is already damaged, stained, stretched out, or simply unwearable. These clothes start their journey in high-income countries as “donations,” but by the time they reach Ghana, they have become waste disguised as charity. This reality was made even clearer through the YouthOvaFashionWaste webinars, which broke down how the overproduction happening in the Global North turns into environmental and social pressure on countries like ours.
One statement from the webinar has stayed in my mind: “Ghana did not create the fast fashion problem, but we are paying for it.” You can see this truth in places like Kantamanto, where traders work incredibly hard, yet almost half of what they buy cannot be sold. What doesn’t sell ends up in gutters, burnt in open spaces, or pushed into already-full landfills. It’s not just a market issue; it’s a national environmental challenge. Our drains choke during the rains, not only because of plastic waste, but because of the textile scraps and torn clothes that escape the markets and find their way into the city’s waterways.
The webinars also showed the human side of this problem. Many young people depend on second-hand clothing markets for their livelihoods. They buy, sort, repair, remake, or resell. They contribute to a circular economy without being formally recognized for it. Yet they also carry the financial risk when a bale is mostly waste. Behind the piles of unwanted clothes is a story of real people trying to survive in a system they did not design.
But the webinars did not only focus on problems. They highlighted what change can look like. Policy reforms in exporting countries are beginning to demand responsibility from brands for the full life cycle of their products. If these policies strengthen, Ghana might one day receive fewer low-quality clothes because brands will face consequences for dumping waste. Another focus is on what we can do here at home: investing in textile recycling technology, supporting young designers who use deadstock and discarded fabrics, and improving data on textile waste so policies are driven by evidence rather than assumptions.
Listening to these ideas made me realize that change will not come from one direction. It has to be shared. Government agencies need to regulate imports more strictly so that Ghana stops becoming the final destination of unwearable clothing. Importers and traders need better protection from exploitative suppliers. Schools and organizations need to make sustainable fashion part of youth education. And all of us, as consumers, need to think more critically about what we buy, why we buy it, and how long we keep it.
There is a growing movement of Ghanaian youth who are not waiting for permission to start making a difference. Some are building small brands that upcycle old clothing into something fresh. Others are teaching communities how to repair items instead of throwing them away. A few are even experimenting with textile waste as raw material for art, furniture, or insulation. The webinars highlighted these young innovators, showing that solutions are not only possible, they are already happening around us.
After going through all three sessions, what stood out most to me was that sustainable fashion in Ghana is not about rejecting secondhand clothing. It is about demanding fairness and responsibility from the global system that created the waste crisis. It is about valuing the people who work in our markets. It is about giving young creatives the tools and support to build alternatives. And above all, it is about recognizing that every item we throw away must go somewhere. Too often, that “somewhere” ends up being Ghana.
I believe the future can look different. If Ghana invests in proper recycling infrastructure, strengthens import quality checks, supports youth-led innovation, and pushes for global accountability, we can turn a crisis into an opportunity. We can build a fashion system that doesn’t drown us in waste, but instead empowers communities, protects our environment, and showcases the creativity that Ghana is known for.
The webinars did more than inform me, they also shifted how I see my own responsibility. Sustainable fashion is not a distant idea; it starts with everyday choices and collective action. Ghana deserves better than being the world’s dumping ground and with awareness, ambition, and the courage to act, we can create a future where our relationship with fashion is not defined by waste, but by purpose.
