Supporting local artisans and making ethical purchasing choices
There is something special about bringing a piece of a journey home with you. Long after the photographs have been downloaded and the suitcase has been put away, a small object sitting on a shelf can take you straight back to a particular place, a particular day or even a particular person. Perhaps it is a piece of jewellery you bought from an artisan in a market, a handwoven basket, a piece of fabric, a carved object or a piece of artwork that caught your eye while travelling. For me, the best souvenirs have never been about simply having something that says I went to Africa. They are about remembering the story behind the object, the person who made it and the place where I found it. When you know that something was made by hand, by someone whose skill has been passed through generations or developed over years of practice, it becomes much more than something you bought because it looked nice.
But buying souvenirs in Africa also comes with a responsibility that we don’t always think about when we are standing in a market or browsing a shop. Tourism creates an enormous demand for products that visitors can take home, and where there is demand, there will always be businesses looking to meet it as cheaply and efficiently as possible. That means the beautiful object sitting in front of you may not necessarily have been made locally, may not have been made by the person selling it and may not even have been made in the country you are visiting. Sometimes something marketed as an authentic African craft can be mass-produced somewhere else and brought into the local market because it is cheaper to manufacture that way. As travellers, we don’t always know the difference immediately, which is why responsible souvenir shopping begins with being curious rather than simply reaching for our wallets.
I think one of the most meaningful things we can do when travelling is to slow down enough to ask questions. Who made this? Where was it made? What is it made from? Is it locally produced? Is the person selling it the person who made it, or are they representing a local artisan or cooperative? If it is handmade, what does that actually mean? Sometimes you will get a fascinating story in response, and sometimes you will discover that the object isn’t quite what you thought it was. Neither answer has to ruin the experience. In fact, understanding the story behind something can make you a much more informed traveller and can help you make purchasing decisions that align with the kind of tourism you want to support.
This is particularly important when buying directly from artisans. One of the great pleasures of travelling through Africa is encountering the extraordinary range of creative traditions that exist across the continent. There are people working with textiles, wood, metal, beads, clay, leather, grasses, fibres and countless other materials, creating objects that reflect their communities, their environment and their own individual creativity. When you purchase directly from an artisan, you are not simply acquiring a souvenir; you are creating a direct connection between your money and someone’s work. That purchase may contribute to a person’s income, help support their family or allow a small business to continue producing work within its community. You may never know the full impact of that one purchase, but it is still a very different transaction from buying a mass-produced item with an African pattern printed onto it simply because it looks exotic.
There is also something worth remembering about the price we are willing to pay. Travellers often become very focused on negotiating the cheapest possible price, particularly in markets where bargaining is part of the culture, and there is nothing inherently wrong with negotiating when it is expected and done respectfully. But there is a difference between enjoying the process of bargaining and trying to push the price so low that the person who made the item is barely being compensated for their time and skill. If you are buying something that has taken hours or days to produce, the person who made it deserves to be paid fairly for that work. The few dollars you save may mean very little to you by the time you return home, but they may mean considerably more to the person who created the item.
That doesn’t mean you should assume that every person selling something is asking for an unfair price or that paying more automatically makes a purchase ethical. Responsible purchasing isn’t simply about spending more money. It is about understanding what you are buying and making informed choices. A higher price does not guarantee that an artisan was fairly paid, just as a lower price doesn’t automatically mean that someone has been exploited. Look beyond the price tag and, where possible, learn something about the business and the people behind it.
The same principle applies to the materials used in souvenirs. Africa’s natural resources are part of what makes many traditional crafts so distinctive, but not everything that looks beautiful should necessarily come home in your suitcase. Some materials may be protected by national or international regulations, while others may have been sourced in ways that damage wildlife or ecosystems. Items made from certain animal products, plants, shells, feathers, bones, ivory or other natural materials can create legal and ethical complications, and something that is available for sale does not necessarily mean that it is legal to take across an international border. The fact that a seller tells you something is permitted is not enough reason to assume that it is.
This is where responsible travel requires a little more thought than simply asking whether something is beautiful. Before purchasing an item made from an animal or plant material, find out where it came from and whether you are legally allowed to take it home. If you have any doubts, don’t buy it. There are so many extraordinary crafts available that there is rarely a reason to risk contributing to the demand for products that could harm wildlife or put you in conflict with customs and wildlife protection laws when you return home.
I think this is particularly important when it comes to wildlife souvenirs. Africa’s animals are already under pressure from habitat loss, human-wildlife conflict, poaching and illegal wildlife trade, and travellers should be careful not to contribute to that demand simply because an object looks unusual. A souvenir made from an animal product can carry a story that you cannot see from the shop counter, and sometimes the most responsible choice is to admire something and leave it where you found it. You can take a photograph instead, or choose a locally made alternative that doesn’t involve wildlife at all.
There is another reason I like the idea of buying locally made souvenirs, and that is because they can give us a connection to the people behind the places we visit. One of the central ideas behind I HEART AFRICA PROJECT has always been the people. I didn’t want to tell a story about Africa that was only about landscapes and wildlife because the people I have met have been such an important part of how I have come to understand the continent. When you meet someone who has spent years developing their craft, learning a traditional technique or building a small business, purchasing something from them can become an extension of that connection. You aren’t simply taking an object home; you are taking home a reminder of a person you met and a place that mattered enough to you to want to remember it.
Sometimes those stories are what make a souvenir valuable. I have always thought there is something quite different about looking at an object and being able to say, “I bought this from the woman who made it,” or “I met the person who created this.” Suddenly it isn’t just something sitting on a shelf. You remember the conversation, the market, the smell of the surroundings, the way the person explained how it was made or the moment you decided that this was the thing you wanted to take home. The monetary value becomes almost irrelevant because the object has acquired another kind of value through the experience attached to it.
That is why I would encourage travellers not to rush through souvenir shopping as though it is simply another item to tick off the itinerary. Take your time. Talk to people. Ask questions. Look at the craftsmanship. Find out where things come from. If you find something you love, ask who made it and whether you can learn a little about the story behind it. You may discover that the object you initially overlooked because it wasn’t as colourful or immediately eye-catching has far more meaning than the mass-produced item that first caught your attention.
There is also a growing opportunity for travellers to support businesses that are deliberately creating ethical and sustainable income for local communities. Cooperatives, community-based craft organisations, social enterprises and locally owned businesses can provide opportunities for people to earn an income from their skills without having to leave their communities. When tourism supports those kinds of businesses, the benefits can extend well beyond the individual transaction. Money can circulate through families and communities, skills can be maintained and younger generations may have an incentive to continue learning traditional crafts rather than seeing them disappear.
That doesn’t mean every traditional craft needs to remain unchanged for it to be authentic. Cultures evolve, artists experiment and artisans create new designs for new markets. A craft doesn’t become less meaningful simply because the person making it has adapted their work for modern travellers. In fact, one of the most interesting things about African craftsmanship is seeing traditional skills expressed in contemporary ways. What matters is that the people creating the work have agency over what they make and that they are treated fairly within the market selling it.
We should also be careful about assuming that every item sold in a market needs to be judged according to whether it fits our idea of “traditional Africa”. That expectation can create its own problems. People living and working in Africa are not frozen in time, and neither are their creative traditions. They are artists, designers, business owners and entrepreneurs who can create whatever they choose. Responsible travel means allowing people to define their own creativity rather than expecting them to produce a version of Africa that exists primarily to satisfy tourists.
There is a beautiful relationship between travel and objects when we get it right. A souvenir can become a physical reminder of a much larger experience, and every time you see it at home, it can take you back to the place where you found it. It might remind you of a guide who introduced you to a particular part of the country, a conversation you had in a market or a person whose story stayed with you. In that sense, buying something locally made can become another way of carrying the people and stories of Africa home with you.
But perhaps the most important thing is to remember that we don’t have to buy anything at all. Responsible travel isn’t measured by how many souvenirs we bring home or how much money we spend. You can travel through Africa without purchasing a single object and still have an extraordinary experience. You can take photographs, keep memories, write down stories and carry the experience with you without putting anything into your suitcase.
If you do choose to buy something, however, make the purchase count.
Think about who made it, where it came from, how it was produced and whether your purchase supports the kind of tourism you want to encourage. Think about whether the materials have been sourced responsibly and whether you can legally take the item home. Think about whether you are paying a fair price for someone’s work rather than simply trying to get the cheapest possible deal. And perhaps most importantly, think about whether the object has a story worth bringing home.
Because a responsible souvenir isn’t necessarily the most expensive thing in the shop, the most traditionally African-looking object or the one that photographs best for Instagram.
It might simply be the thing that connects you to a person.
A piece of craftsmanship that reminds you of a conversation.
Something made by someone whose name you remember.
Something that supports a local livelihood rather than a mass-produced supply chain.
Something that allows you to take a little piece of the experience home without taking anything away from the place itself.
That, to me, is what a souvenir should be.
Not something that proves you were there, but something that reminds you why being there mattered.
And perhaps that is the most responsible way to bring Africa home with you: not by taking something simply because you can, but by choosing something thoughtfully, understanding the story behind it and knowing that your purchase has helped support the person, craft or community that made it possible.