The effects of Trump’s trade policies in Africa

By Rekpene Bassey

When President Donald Trump re-imposed sweeping tariffs on a wide range of imported goods, the decision reverberated far beyond the United States’ borders.

While the move was defended domestically to protect American industries and address trade imbalances, its global implications are profound, particularly for African economies that have long relied on stable, rules-based trade frameworks with the US as a foundation for economic growth.

The African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA), enacted in 2000, offered duty-free access to US markets for nearly 7,000 products from over 30 sub-Saharan African nations. For many of these countries, AGOA has been more than a trade agreement; it has been a lifeline.

The textile industry in Lesotho, agro-processing in Mauritius, oil exports from Nigeria, and fruit and wine industries in South Africa have all flourished under its terms. However, reintroducing tariffs ranging from 10 to 50 per cent threatens to unravel decades of economic progress.

These tariffs now apply to countries that had enjoyed tariff-free status under AGOA, jeopardising their export competitiveness. Countries like Madagascar and South Africa have invested heavily in production chains geared toward US markets and now face reduced market access.

The costs may be existential for small and medium enterprises dependent on predictable export routes. Losing even a marginal share of the US market could translate into job losses, factory closures, and reduced foreign exchange earnings.

The implications extend beyond trade volumes. Tariffs increase the cost of imports, and in a tightly interwoven global economy, such cost pressures travel rapidly. Many African industries, particularly manufacturing and agriculture, rely on imported intermediate goods, tools, and equipment.

As US tariffs ripple through global supply chains, African importers will likely face increased costs that they must either absorb or pass on to consumers. This creates a knock-on effect on inflation. As costs rise across the production chain, consumers are squeezed. Food becomes more expensive. Fuel prices climb. Basic goods are harder to afford. For countries already battling post-pandemic inflation, currency depreciation, and high debt burdens, the reintroduction of American tariffs threatens to destabilise fragile economies further and intensify social pressures.

The impact is deeply personal at the household level. In nations where large swaths of the population live on less than $2 a day, inflation can mean the difference between subsistence and hunger. Rising prices pose a political dilemma for governments: tighten fiscal policy to control inflation or expand spending to cushion citizens from the economic fallout. Either choice comes with long-term consequences.

The International Monetary Fund has repeatedly warned of the dangers of geo-economics fragmentation, where nations retreat into competing blocs and weaponised trade. It projects that sub-Saharan Africa could see long-term GDP losses of up to four per cent if current trends persist. These figures are not abstract. They reflect lost jobs, shuttered schools, delayed infrastructure projects, and foregone development opportunities.

Therefore, Trump’s tariff agenda must be viewed not in isolation but as part of a larger unravelling of the post-Cold War global economic order. As countries impose trade barriers to pursue strategic interests, multilateralism is eroded. In such a world, smaller economies like those in Africa become collateral damage, sidelined from decision-making and forced into economic dependency on whichever bloc offers the least exploitative terms.

But amidst the risks lie opportunities. Africa is not without agency. The African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA), now in its early stages of implementation, provides a chance for the continent to reinvent internal integration. By reducing barriers among themselves, African countries can develop regional value chains, increase intra-African trade, and reduce dependency on volatile external markets.

This transition will not be easy. Infrastructure gaps, currency mismatches, and regulatory differences remain formidable obstacles. Yet the political will appears to be beckoning.

From Nigeria to Kenya, there is growing recognition that the future of African trade cannot rely solely on the preferences of foreign powers. It must be built on resilience, reciprocity, and regional solidarity. Some nations have begun asserting a more sovereign economic vision. Burkina Faso, under President Ibrahim Traoré, for example, has signalled a decisive turn away from extractive trade relationships, seeking to retain more value within its borders instead. This reflects a wider continental awakening, a shift toward challenging neocolonial economic structures and reimagining Africa’s place in the global economy.

Trump’s tariff policy is particularly shortsighted because it harms American strategic interests. Africa represents the fastest-growing population centre in the world, with an emerging consumer class and vast reserves of critical minerals, agricultural potential, and innovation hubs. Retreating from economic engagement with Africa effectively leaves the field open to competitors, notably China and India, Russia, and other BRICS nations.

Moreover, US companies dependent on African raw materials such as cobalt, lithium, cocoa, and oil, among others, will inevitably feel the pinch. As prices rise and supply chains shift, American firms face higher input costs and diminished competitiveness.

In an inflation-sensitive domestic environment, these cost pressures will be passed on to US consumers, exacerbating the price volatility the tariffs were meant to combat.

There is also the matter of reputation. America has long positioned itself as a proponent of free markets, open trade, and partnership-based development. But when it undermines longstanding trade agreements and imposes punitive tariffs on some of the world’s poorest countries, it risks eroding that image and alienating the very allies it seeks to cultivate.

It is easy to view tariff policy as a domestic lever, a tool for pleasing political constituencies or punishing adversaries. But in today’s interconnected economy, such moves reverberate across borders and sectors. They impact lives, industries, and the geopolitical balance of power. They shape the decisions of African policymakers, business leaders, and youth who are increasingly aware of the choices before them.

In many ways, the question is no longer whether Africa should diversify its economic partnerships; it is how swiftly and effectively it can do so. South-South cooperation is on the rise. Trade with China has surpassed that with the US by multiple factors. India, Turkey, Brazil, and Russia are deepening their economic footprints. With the right political will, strategic vision, and financial discipline, Africa could soon emerge as a participant and a co-author of new trade norms.

Ultimately, the Trump-era tariff regime has revealed the fragility of trade relationships built on asymmetry and preference rather than fairness and mutual interest. As these structures strain under pressure, Africa chooses to cling to a fading model or embrace the uncertainty of a more autonomous path. The moment demands clarity, courage, and cooperation.

For the United States, the message is equally clear. Economic nationalism may win short-term applause, but long-term prosperity and geopolitical relevance depend on engagement, not exclusion. A global economy cannot thrive when major powers weaponise trade at the expense of shared growth and development. The future will belong to those who build bridges, not walls.

*Rekpene Bassey is the President of the African Council on Narcotics (ACON) and an expert in Security and Drug Prevention.