Trading places: Muslim merchants from West Africa expand their markets to New York City

Natural History, July-August, 2002 by Paul Stoller

Born in Niger, Issifi Mayaki learned his father's trade: selling indigenous African cloth, including antique textiles. With his impeccable French, he developed a clientele among French expatriates in the city of Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, and after picking up English he successfully cultivated members of Abidjan's English-speaking diplomatic community as well as African American visitors. Then in 1992, at the age of thirty, Mayaki began eyeing the lucrative market in the United States. Deciding to take a gamble, he packed up and airfreighted much of his stock to New York City, bought a round-trip ticket (as required for a six-month business visitor's visa), and set out to make his fortune.

At first, things went well. Upon arriving, Mayaki found lodging with fellow traders at a rundown, ostensibly single-room-occupancy hotel on West 77th Street in Manhattan and started making contacts. But several weeks later, after he sent out a large shipment of Ghanaian kente cloth, the recipient refused to pay. Mayaki's telephone calls and faxes went unanswered. Much of the inventory of valuable fabrics that had taken him years to collect in Africa was thus lost in a matter of weeks. In fact, he was stranded: to meet expenses, he had already sold the return portion of his air ticket.

Mayaki turned to his compatriots for assistance, and they pooled money to provide him with a loan. Adapting quickly to new circumstances, he decided to stock up on rap, rhythm and blues, and jazz cassettes to market to African Americans in Harlem. He set up a table on West 125th Street near the famed Apollo Theater and eventually took up residence with another trader living nearby. After city authorities cleared out the 125th Street market area, Mayaki relocated to the Malcolm Shabazz Harlem Market on West 116th Street, where he rented a stall for seven dollars a day and began to sell textiles along with cassettes and a few CDs. In time, he again became a cloth merchant.

"Was it difficult to negotiate the crossroads of New York City?" I once asked him.

"Life in New York is filled with uncertainties" he answered. "If I fall sick, will I be able to get help? Will Immigration detain and deport me? Will I make enough money to send to my family in Niger and Cote d'Ivoire? Will I make enough to pay my bills? So far, God has blessed me. The only certainty is that I have always been a trader and will always be a trader"

Two integrated aspects of his cultural heritage have enabled Mayaki to walk the myriad economic and social paths of New York City: the practices of West African trade and the teachings of Islam. Throughout the history of West Africa, specialized traders have, through kinship or patron-client relations, established large corporate networks. The most notable of these professional traders belong to two ethnic groups, the Hausa (Mayaki's group) and the Malinke, sometimes referred to as the Dyula. Other major players are Songhay from Niger and Mali, Wolof from Senegal, and Soninke from Gambia. Like their ancestors, West African traders in New York City have well-established procedures and organizations for obtaining informal credit and raising capital, and they adhere to Islamic precepts concerning commercial transactions.

From the earliest years of the ummah (the Muslim community of believers), which was established by the prophet Muhammad in the early seventh century A.D., traders were urged to interact in cooperative ways that would increase commerce. Various passages in the Qur'an speak of manifesting goodwill, providing correct weight, and not giving false oaths in transactions. More emphatically, Muhammad opposed monopolistic practices that could undermine cooperative relations. So when Mayaki (who regularly studies the Qur'an and the Hadith, or record of the Prophet's sayings) speaks of hard work, honest commercial relations, and trust, these beliefs derive directly from Islam.

Boube Mounkaila is a Songhay, not a Hausa, but like Mayaki, he came to New York City from Niger by way of Abidjan. At the Malcolm Shabazz Harlem Market, he sells wristwatches as well as leather sacks and handbags made in Niger. Mounkaila's watches adopt the styles and trademarks of DKNY, Gucci, Rolex, and Swiss Army brands, but he makes no secret of the fact that his are counterfeits.

"I must be honest in my dealings," he told me. "I let everyone know that what I sell are copies, not originals."

"They probably know anyway, from the price," I said. "I mean, it's hard to get a real Rolex for twenty-five dollars."

"It doesn't matter," replied Mounkaila. "I must tell them anyway. That is our way. I am a merchant, and I try to establish trust with my clients. That way, they will, Inshallah--God willing--come back." He connected his trading practices to Islam. "I try to be a good Muslim. I say my prayers five times a day, avoid alcohol and pork, and give to the unfortunate. I try to be honest in trade. That is our way, and it makes me a better trader."

While the founding of Islam triggered the expansion of trade from Arabia to North and West Africa, the extension of kinship ties--both fictive and real--provided a customary means of enlarging trade networks. The practices that made long-distance trade possible in West Africa hold today in New York City. Mayaki's network consists; first of all, of his paternal kin. He is obliged to send money to the family head (his father) and to look after his mother and brothers. But Mayaki also feels a social and economic loyalty to his "brother" traders. His most important transactions and dealings are with fellow Hausa from Niger whom he knows from Abidjan. To lesser degrees, his sense of trust and comfort extends to other Hausa traders and then to other West African traders. He can expect to give and receive a small amount of credit from any of these people, no matter their actual proximity to his informal personal trade network, which also includes Korean, Chinese, and Afghani suppliers. "Islam makes us traders strong, resilient, and disciplined," Mayaki says. "It encourages our creativity in new lands. It creates a climate of trust."