In Nigeria, streetwear affordability reflects the tension between global brand standards and the economic reality of a majority-poor population
The ongoing conversation around streetwear fashion and its affordability in Nigeria today is not simply about price—it’s about economic reality, class disparity, and what it means to build brands in a struggling economy. In conversations among creative communities, many Nigerians complain that brands charge prices that feel wildly out of reach—perhaps that may be true, at times, brands may irresponsibly set prices for profit or perceived prestige. It’s also important to remember that fashion brands operate across a spectrum: differences in quality, branding, design, value, and status all affect pricing. But when you take a broader and more general view, you see that it is more than that. Every day, Nigerians are squeezed for basic necessities: with inflation high, food prices soaring, electricity costs rising, and wage growth painfully stagnant, millions find that meeting rent, feeding, and covering transportation already consumes every cent of their income. In that context, a $40 T‑shirt or its NGN equivalent is almost absurdly out of reach, an indulgence in a society where simply putting food on the table is a luxury.
The economic backdrop helps explain much more. According to a 2026 Nigerian Financial Services Market report, only about 2.4 % of Nigerians earn above ₦200,000 per month, and less than 1 % earn above ₦1 million, leaving the overwhelming majority with much lower earnings. Nearly half of Nigerians earn less than ₦50,000 monthly, a level of income that barely covers basic necessities for most people, and a significant portion earn under ₦100,000 per month. Many others fall into what might be loosely called the “struggling middle class,” but even those incomes feel fragile under the weight of inflation and cost‑of‑living pressures that continue to erode purchasing power.
So when a brand prices a hoodie or a jacket at NGN80,000, or a 1of1 piece at several hundred thousand, the reaction is a tangible expression of frustration at a broader inequality: a small percentage of affluent consumers and diaspora buyers who can easily afford such labels, and a vast majority whose daily reality is grinding financial pressure. Nigeria’s market has, by necessity, evolved to serve both ends of this spectrum. Many streetwear labels intentionally target the small segment of wealthy locals and Nigerians in the diaspora who have the disposable income to support aspirational brands. That strategy makes business sense — but it also fuels the “you’re not the target audience” narrative, a perception of exclusivity. Or perhaps it is simply a reflection of a severely poor and economically strained country.
At the heart of this dilemma is an economic irony: Nigeria is Africa’s largest economy on paper, yet its income distribution is deeply unequal. Even among Nigerians considered middle class, many struggle to meet everyday needs like decent housing, healthcare, education, and reliable electricity.
The tension becomes even clearer when considering fashion brands that, while based in Nigeria, operate in a global market. It would be unreasonable to expect them to lower prices or compromise on quality simply to make products more affordable domestically. Quality costs money, and cutting corners undermines both craft and long-term viability. Creatives want to build brands with integrity and sustainability, but they also want to remain connected to a domestic audience that often cannot afford the prices necessary for those brands to survive. This results in a constant tension.
This tension is further magnified by how Nigerian culture is portrayed online. There’s a recurring narrative on the internet that Nigerians “have money” — a belief fueled by flashy lifestyle posts, celebrity luxury car showcases, and Detty December. But economic data tells a different story: the vast majority of citizens are POOR.
Many people also argue that local production could help achieve affordability, and that may hold true. But even then, issues like security, poor roads, unreliable electricity, and maintaining quality make local production challenging. Even large-scale efforts often come at a loss, as brands struggle to ensure high-quality output within Nigeria. Everyone would want to produce work locally; no one wants to go all the way to China or Europe to manufacture, but the reality is that Nigeria has yet to reach a point where production is seamless.
Ultimately, the politics of fashion and affordability in Nigeria reflects larger structural issues about wealth, opportunity, and how industries develop in challenging economic conditions. The conversation around pricing is basically a window into the realities of a market where millions are trying to define their tastes and identities while balancing basic economic survival.
