As Zambia Courts Western Markets, Used Goods Arrive at a Heavy Price Jon Jeter

The flea market here is as dark and hazy as an opium den, its flimsy tin roof turning back the midday sun as Edward Mansa robotically unbundles the shipment of secondhand clothes that has just arrived. The dull, red DKNY T-shirt catches his eye. "This," he says admiringly as he holds the shirt up to the dim light, "is not bad." He says he can probably get a dollar for it. The shapeless plaid skirt is another matter, however, as is the dowdy, ruffled blouse and the banana-yellow sport coat that causes Mansa to shudder. He'll be lucky to get…