
I recently travelled north to the Mongolian border and south to Guangzhou and Macao, working on separate stories about human trafficking and China’s African population. Over the next few weeks I’ll be writing some short postcards from each of the cities, since I think they provide interesting snapshots of China today. This one is about Guangzhou, where the African community, China’s largest, is at a breaking point.
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In Guangzhou, you can buy anything. On the chaotic streets of the old city there are stores selling over–sized stuffed animals, Christmas decorations, plastic trees, neon signage, bulk candy, and elastics. There are separate shops for plastic, paper, and reusable bags. Stationary. Wigs. Sneakers. Scooters. Jay-Z t–shirts. Whatever you could possibly want, it’s available here. Guangdong province – the “world’s factory” – is home to 28,000 industrial firms, including 15,000 overseas–funded business. It makes 75% of the world’s toys and 90% of its Christmas decorations (in a country that doesn’t celebrate it). In Guangzhou, the provincial capital, it’s all available for purchase, direct from the source.
Over the years, this access to cheap goods has attracted traders from across the world. Guangzhou was once called Canton, China’s first port opened for trade with foreign countries.** Back in the day, foreigners lived on an island called Shamian. Today, the island is where foreign couples wait, for months at a time, to adopt Chinese babies. Though adoption is getting more difficult, the Starbucks on Shamian island is still packed with young white couples waiting to adopt, sipping lattes all the while. Today, the most visible ex–pat community in Guangzhou is African. What was a community of a few hundred traders a decade ago now numbers as high as 20,000. It’s been dubbed “Little Africa,” or “Chocolate City,” and its residents come from Nigeria, Senegal, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Angola, Tunisia, and elsewhere to buy jeans, trainers, fake iPods, and more. There are times walking around Guangzhou when, were it not for the storefront signs written in Chinese characters, the city could be mistaken for Lagos or Accra.
For the most part the community has thrived. Markets are devoted to African buyers and whole neighbourhoods cater to them. There are African restaurants, bars with African music, African churches. Many traders have lived in Guangzhou for years; some have settled with Chinese wives.

But Guangzhou’s African community is at a breaking point. The rising cost of goods, currency inflation, and a faltering economy are putting the squeeze on Little Africa. Numbers are down and business is suffering. More crucially, visas are being denied or granted only for the short term. Africans who allow their visas to expire are often imprisoned and forced to pay a hefty fine. And, according to interviews with over two dozen African traders, the community is facing increased persecution at the hands of police, a crackdown that coincides with the sentencing to death of 8 Africans accused of smuggling drugs into China.**** In the lead–up to the Olympics there were several crackdowns on Africans living in China. In September, 2007, at least 20 blacks, including a diplomat’s son, were rounded up by police in Beijing’s Sanlitun bar district. In the weeks before the Games rumours surfaced that bar owners had been instructed to ban black patrons.
I recently travelled to Guangzhou with a fellow journalist, Tom Mackenzie, and a photographer, James Wasserman, and spent six days hanging out with the African community. We visited markets, ate chicken and rice in a Nigerian diner, attending mass, sat down with an Imam, and interviewed a cross–eyed preacher over Red Bulls and apple slices. What we found is a colourful community that is slowly dying.
Guangzhou is the type of teeming Asian city one imagines before going to Asia. In the old city, the narrow streets are lined with palm trees, and elevated freeways clogged with traffic offer views of apartment towers with barred balconies strung with laundry. The new city features soulless apartment complexes, spotless Audies and Mercedes, and skyscrapers plucked from the Hong Kong skyline.
Little Africa is actually two areas in the old city surrounding markets that cater to the African community. One area is predominantly Muslim, the other Christian. The men (they are mostly men) that frequent them buy bulk goods and ship them back to their home country, where a relative or friend distributes them. The most popular items for purchase, it seemed, were baggy, hip–hop jeans. “G–Star is popular. Diesel,” an Angolan trader told us. “It depends if you can get the cheap price.”

I don’t want to give too much of the story away, since it’s yet to be published, but talks with over two dozen Africans in Guangzhou confirmed that the community is in trouble. It was evident in the markets. At one market in the Muslim area, long aisles of shops on several floors were largely empty. When asked how business was going, Kimba, a sharply dressed man from Niger chewing a matchstick in a leather bag shop, told us, “Look, see for yourself. There are no customers. In China, business is very, very bad.”
More alarming than the business downturn is the increased police persecution. More than a dozen people we spoke to independently reported increased violence against Africans at the hands of police. One man with a cast on his leg said he jumped from a balcony after a chase with police and didn’t receive medical treatment for over 24 hours.
There’s an irony here. For years, Chinese business, from oil producing giants to individual entrepreneurs, have been encouraged to set up shop in Africa and foster trade relations. In 2007, China invested US$7–billion in the continent. In their destination countries, Chinese are welcomed with open arms. In Lagos, Nigeria, for example, a has been established under full protection of the Nigerian authorities. That warm welcome has not been reciprocated in Guangzhou, where African businessmen have few rights and little legal protection.

On a Sunday in late November, we attended mass in the city’s impressive catholic church, where a Cantonese preacher delivered a sermon on the end of days under the church’s high ceiling, chandeliers, and CCTV cameras. The audience of roughly 700 was over 90% black, mostly Nigerian. After mass, the congregation spilled out to the church grounds and an adjacent hall, dimly lit and crumbling, where they sang and danced to the rhythm of guitar and African drums. The mood was festive, but it masked tensions that could see this weekly scene become a thing of the past.
Once word got out that we were journalists, people were eager to talk. Many were angry, some afraid. A group of young men surrounded me and talked about the visa crackdown while I scribbled down notes. For these men, Guangzhou is home, but they are on temporary visas and are worried about over–extending them. Some already have.
“If you over–extend your visa, you have to pay a fine,” a stocky Nigerian named Joe told me. “If you can’t pay the visa fine you are thrown in jail and not allowed out of the country. A lot of us want to leave the country, but we don’t know how.
“I come here to buy goods to send to my country,” Joe said. “I’m helping the economy. I don’t understand why they do this.”
Photographs by James Wasserman.
(http://www.walrusmagazine.com)