It’s 38 degrees Celsius in Lagos Island. Clothes and bags adorn every passageway and the stench of waste and rubbish engulfs the atmosphere.
I’m suffering through the heat, searching for the Jordan Aerospace 720 in two colours; white and black. I think shoes are visual displays designed to make people distinctive and memorable. I also think the term “memorable” has fallen into disrepute but that is a story for another day.
I finally get to my destination and I see my plug, Doja just outside his shop, unperturbed and sat gently the midst of used plastic, dirty nylons, and bottles. Beside him stood other traders and customers, all haggling prices among themselves. If they found the offensive smell oozing out of their surrounding unpalatable, they did not show it in their countenances. He sights me and hails me, an act I always find delightful. I tell him what shoes I am looking for and he asks whether I wanted the original design or the replica.
“The counterfeit market is a $450 billion industry which thrives on the high demand for luxury goods and hyped products which are produced sometimes in compromising quality and at a cheaper price. The Nigerian sneaker culture is still at its infancy, and with few outlets to get or afford original sneakers, the counterfeit market serves as a gateway to the “real thing”. Most Global brands have few outlets in Nigeria. For example, Adidas, the second largest footwear company has only two stores in Lagos, the commercial hub of the country. The price of their sneakers lies well above the minimum wage in case you were wondering why people buy fake stuff.
Although this constitutes to stealing of sales and diluting the reputation of brands, it has indirectly served as free advertising, enabling people to be in the know about what they wear on their feet. The counterfeit market has also had a hand in boosting e-commerce, instead of going through the “market stress”, many simply hit up online retailers on platforms such as Twitter or Instagram, with the latter being more popular to get their hands on the sneakers of their choice.”
“In the past, fake sneakers could be spotted from a mile away. But with improvements in counterfeiting technology and the fact that manufacturers of both real and fake sneakers sometimes produce in the same area (China), it has become difficult differentiating between a fake and an authentic pair of sneakers with the former looking more genuine sometimes, misleading many into thinking they are purchasing an authentic product and leaving those who know the deceit to be judged by their conscience alone.”
Apologies for the digression.
I enter the store and I chuckled a little. The place is filled with so many shoes, Doja wouldn’t even know if he were robbed. Like the colourful shirts hung in the nearby shop, these shoes have come from far and wide, in worn-out sacks like those in many of the stalls in the market. Some of them have a troubled past, having travelled from parts of the world plagued by conflict, injustice and criminality. Most are just replicas manufactured in Aba and shipped to Lagos.
The self-esteem of these shoes must have really taken a blow. Imagine being manufactured in the United States with a hope for a better tomorrow and then you get shipped to Nigeria. That pain is enough to level even humans.
“How much is it for the original?”, I ask Doja.
“N78,000 for each pair”, he replies.
I leave the shop with the replicas of the Jordan Aerospace 720 which I bought for under N48,000. I mumble a few words to the originals under my breath as I walk out; come hell or high water, I’ll be back for you.
