Why is African Craftsmanship often dismissed as ‘cheap’ in Western markets? And what’s the real cost of this misperception for global culture and economic justice?

In many Western markets, African craftsmanship is often labeled as “cheap.”

Cup circle caught on film in Zanzibar- photographer: Laila-Sophie Surges

Whether it’s a carved mask, a woven basket, or a piece of hand-dyed fabric, these objects are frequently undervalued — seen more as souvenirs than serious cultural or artistic expressions. But this perception says more about the structures of global inequality than it does about the craftsmanship itself. Behind this devaluation is a tangled history of colonial mindsets, capitalist mass production, and a persistent lack of understanding about the skill, labor, and heritage embedded in every piece.

Mug B styled with Saucer B and the Espresso cup B from Mukakasa

The roots of this undervaluation trace back to colonial ideologies. During the colonial era, European powers imposed rigid hierarchies on art and culture. European painting, sculpture, and architecture were elevated as symbols of refinement and “civilization,” while African artistic expressions were deemed “primitive” or “folk”, the term “craft” itself became a way to diminish and held the weight of the Western gaze. African artisans were not recognized as artists, but as laborers producing functional or ritual objects. Their names were rarely recorded. Their pieces were displayed in ethnographic museums — not art galleries — reinforcing the idea that their work was less about creativity and more about anthropology.

This mindset continues today. Even as African aesthetics influence global fashion, design, and visual culture, the originators of these traditions are often excluded from the credit and the profits. The perception that African craft is somehow lesser — quaint, decorative, or disposable — is a direct legacy of these colonial frameworks.

The interior of the Benin King's compound burned during the siege of Benin city in 1897, with bronze plaques in the foreground- photographer: Reginald Granville

In today’s global economy, the situation is made worse by mass production. Many “African-style” goods sold in Western markets are not made by African hands at all. They are mass-produced in factories, often in Asia, and sold cheaply through large retailers and online platforms. These products borrow motifs and patterns from African traditions but strip them of context, quality, and meaning.

This market flooding distorts value. When consumers see two similar-looking objects — one handmade by an artisan in Ghana or Rwanda, and the other churned out by machines — they often choose based on price. But this price comparison is deeply misleading. The factory-made item reflects economies of scale, exploitative labor, and cheap synthetic materials. The artisan’s work reflects days (or months) of labor, the careful sourcing of local materials, and a lifetime of learned technique.

The making of the Mukakasa cups by local pottery artisian, Byrentaro Moses and his team in Mukono, Uganda

When we call African craft “cheap,” we ignore the true cost behind it. We don’t see the woman who rises at dawn to dye thread using traditional methods. We don’t see the sculptor shaping wood with tools handed down from generations. We don’t see the symbolism in a bead pattern that tells a story of love, lineage, or mourning. We also overlook the economic and social realities: many artisans work without access to global markets, relying on tourism or local sales to make ends meet. They often lack the infrastructure to scale or promote their work internationally. As a result, even their best efforts may fetch only a fraction of what the piece is truly worth. Beyond this, the absence of a strong, sustainable business model to connect craftpeople with international markets further excludes them from participating equally on a global stage.Informal trade setups where products are carried in suitcases to be sold in the West for modest markups, do little to build longterm opportunity or visibility. These short-term arrangements may sustain a few individuals but fail to create the structure, ambition, and value recognition that the craft sector truly deserves.

The firing process that creates oil stain oxidation in Mukakasa pieces

More importantly, we miss the fact that these crafts are not just objects — they are living traditions. They carry identity, memory, and resilience. They embody local knowledge systems that have survived colonization, globalization, and now, cultural appropriation.

The cost of devaluing African craftsmanship is paid in multiple ways. First, artisans themselves suffer. When their work is underpriced, they cannot earn a living, and younger generations see little incentive to learn the trade. Cultural traditions risk disappearing as a result.Second, communities lose out. Craft-based economies — particularly in rural or under-resourced regions — can be vital for local development. When mass-produced imports dominate, those local economies suffer. Third, the global cultural landscape becomes impoverished. When we treat African artistry as mere decoration, we fail to recognize its contributions to the world — not just as heritage, but as innovation, design, and narrative.

To address this, we must begin to shift how we see, buy, and speak about African craftsmanship.

Handwoven baskets made in Uganda

It starts with education: understanding where pieces come from, how they are made, and what they represent. It continues with ethical purchasing: choosing to buy from artisans or trusted platforms that ensure fair pay and authenticity. And it requires amplifying voices: allowing African artisans to tell their own stories, define their own aesthetics, and be recognized not as cultural relics but as contemporary creators.

Finally, we must challenge the systems that allow cultural appropriation without compensation, and that celebrate African influence while erasing African origin.

African craftsmanship is not cheap. It is rich — in culture, in labor, in meaning. Every handcrafted item carries with it history, skill, and spirit. When we undervalue it, we don’t just lose beauty — we lose connection. We lose knowledge. We lose the chance to participate in a more respectful and equitable cultural exchange.

The next time you hold a handmade object from Africa, don’t ask why it costs more than a factory replica. Ask why we ever thought it shouldn’t.

Mukakasa Mugs