‘Down with the suit’: Mobutu-era jacket makes comeback
- Last updated: May 30, 2026 | 09:44
Sewing machines whirred across bold fabrics at a Kinshasa atelier where Congolese tailors and their style-savvy customers have revived a suit long associated with life under a dictator. The “abacost” has a closed-front jacket, often with a Mao-style collar and worn without a tie, ideal for the sweltering equatorial heat. It was the signature attire — along with his leopard-skin hat — of president Mobuto Sese Seko, who began wearing the jacket in the 1970s when Western shirts and ties were all but outlawed.
The authoritarian ruler made it compulsory for civil servants to do the same, as a symbol of national identity and a break from the norms of the former colonial powers. Even its name — an abbreviation of “a bas le costume” or “down with the suit” — was an act of nose thumbing. After Mobutu was toppled in 1997 following more than three decades in power, the suit fell out of favour, seen as tied to the old elite. Now, nearly three decades later, it is back. “It’s the trend right now,” said Serge Okasol, one of Kinshasa’s best-known tailors, adding that orders were streaming in from both old and young.
Tucked behind a petrol station in the centre of the Democratic Republic of Congo’s capital, the Okasol workshop is reimagining the suit, stitch by stitch. After studying fashion in Paris, Serge and his brother Auguy returned home to take over the family business founded by their father. Ministers, generals, executives and diplomats are now regular customers — some order up to 15 suits at once, costing around a thousand dollars each.
“There are many ateliers like this, but Okasol does it best,” one client told AFP, after picking up a costly order. Another customer Percy Losso said the most sought-after designs used African fabrics, turning suits into a statement of “cultural identity”. “We take a classic style and make it our own language,” Serge Okasol said. The modern abacost often features elaborate embroidery or bright patterns, in strong contrast to the understated look of Western suits. The design starts with the customer, with many bringing ideas inspired by Congolese musicians and influencers who have helped bring back the Mobutu-era suit. “When you sent me the model on your phone, it had a pointed collar. But here, I’ve gone with a more classic one,” Auguy told a young client, while taking his measurements.
For high-profile events, wealthier patrons commission abacosts decorated with floral patterns or beads. Others go further, adding their initials — or even their own portrait — to the jacket. The tailors say they live by one rule: “Express your identity”. Behind the business, a large hangar hummed with high-end machines imported from Germany and Japan. Around 30 workers took on different tasks, from jackets and trousers to sleeves and buttonholes.
“People here care deeply about the details,” said Serge. “You can judge a suit by its finish.” A few streets away, rows of cheaper suits from Asia hung from makeshift racks along a muddy road. The mass-produced abacost-style jackets sell for around $50, with tailoring done on the spot in dimly lit rooms.
Local tailors say the difference comes down to quality, arguing the imports use low-quality fabrics, often mixed with polyester. “The fabric is the real secret of a good suit,” said Auguy. “The fake ones trap heat. With real fabric, you can breathe.”
In one of the world’s poorest countries, style remains a powerful way to assert one’s identity, status and pride.
Kinshasa is known for its flamboyantly dressed dandies, or “sapeurs”, devotees of a cult movement who spend huge amounts on designer clothes.
Whether wealthy or struggling on the city’s margins, clothing in Kinshasa is more than fashion, Auguy stressed. “For a Kinshasa man, dressing well is like putting on armour,” Serge agreed. “It’s about self-esteem and credibility.”
Agence France-Presse