We created a support programme for schools in Nairobi’s informal settlements: what we learned

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Benta A. Abuya, Research Scientist, African Population and Health Research Center

School room in Kibagare, Nairobi, Kenya. Ninara, via Flickr, CC BY

Access to school is considered to be better for children who live in urban areas than in rural areas in countries such as Kenya. But research shows that this access doesn’t translate into children doing better at school if the setting is an informal settlement. Despite being able to attend school, some children don’t fully enjoy their right to education, because the urban advantage seems to have dwindled in these contexts in recent years.

Some years ago, our team of researchers at the African Population & Health Research Center in Kenya examined the enrolment patterns in slums and non-slum communities in Nairobi. Our study found that pupils living in non-slum areas had higher rates of primary school completion (92%) than their counterparts in urban informal settlements (76%). And the pupils outside slums were more likely (76%) to go on to secondary school than the pupils in slums were (46%).

This motivated us to design and carry out an intervention, called Advancing Learning Outcomes and Transformational Change (ALOT Change). It was a nine-year after-school support programme that ran in three phases:

  • phase 1 from 2013 to 2015

  • phase 2 from 2016 to 2018

  • phase 3 from 2019 to 2022.

The programme consisted of homework support, mentoring in life skills (including relationship skills and responsible decision making), parental counselling and transition subsidies. In phase 2, we added a leadership component and boys into the programme. In phase 3 we added motivational talks, service learning and digital literacy.

Parents were encouraged to support their children and peers to learn from each other. Children were encouraged to think about careers.

ALOT Change aimed to contribute to a better future for boys and girls aged 12-19 in informal settlements. We implemented this intervention in two Nairobi settlements, Korogocho and Viwandani. Korogocho is reported to be more stable but to have worse health and socio-economic outcomes, while Viwandani is more transient, with a youthful, migrant population.

Once the intervention had run its course, we wanted to know whether it had made a positive impact on pupils’ literacy and numeracy scores. We analysed data from 577 pupils at baseline and 392 at endline during phase 3.

Our endline report showed modest improvements in literacy and numeracy, better self-confidence and aspirations, stronger parental involvement, and reduced delinquent behaviour among participants.

We found that the programme was particularly useful for follow-up cohorts who had been engaged in earlier phases.

Generally, the intervention had more impact among boys than girls, for pupils aged 12-13, and among pupils from least poor households. Numeracy improved more in Korogocho than in Viwandani.

These findings point to some adjustments that could be made to future interventions.




Read more:
Education in Kenya’s informal settlements can work better if parents get involved — here’s how


Evaluation of impact on numeracy and literacy achievement

Our evaluation compared two cohorts of boys and girls. The “follow-up cohort” were followed from primary school (2016-2018) into secondary schools. The “new cohort” started the programme in 2019 and were followed for three years.

The research questions were:

  • Did the intervention improve literacy and numeracy scores?

  • How did those scores vary?

  • Were there any differences between boys and girls?

In our analysis we chose to look at five groups, defined by their performance in literacy and numeracy tests. We explored the relationships between their performance and the students’ characteristics (age and gender) and household factors (like household head age, availability of reading materials at home, and household size).

Some of the highlights of our findings were that:

  • the intervention had a strong impact on numeracy among higher achievers

  • reading at home had a notable benefit for lower and middle achievers

  • girls tended to perform better than boys in literacy

  • boys scored better in numeracy than girls

  • the effects of the intervention on literacy and numeracy were sustained one year into secondary school

  • numeracy and literacy scores reduced in older age groups, as in other studies.

The follow-up cohort had been exposed to the intervention for three years (in phase 2) by the time we started assessing their performance. They performed better than the new cohort.




Read more:
10 years ago Kenya set out to fix gender gaps in education – what’s working and what still needs to be done


Gender differences in performance were evident at both lower and higher achievement levels. This finding mirrors those of other studies that speak to the need to encourage boys to enjoy reading to improve their reading abilities. But some studies explain this lag in reading by boys to the likelihood that boys are more inclined towards science, technology, engineering, and mathematics, which takes them away from the focus of reading competency.

Recommendations

The study points to the need to pay more attention to boys during the literacy sessions and to girls in the numeracy sessions during the implementation of the intervention programmes.

The reduction in scores at older ages suggests a need to adjust the programme to suit younger and older adolescents.

Programmes may need to further adapt interventions for older adolescents. Continuing with the same components of the intervention may not be feasible for older adolescents.

The Conversation

Benta A. Abuya works for APHRC. She does not receive funding from any organisation

ref. We created a support programme for schools in Nairobi’s informal settlements: what we learned – https://theconversation.com/we-created-a-support-programme-for-schools-in-nairobis-informal-settlements-what-we-learned-264594

Angolans are fed up with broken promises: why the ruling MPLA keeps stalling local elections

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Daniel Tjarks, Resarch Associate in Human Geography, Saarland University

Weeks of protests in July 2025 in Angola left 30 dead and hundreds imprisoned. Sparked by a hike in fuel prices, the outcome of a governmental effort to reduce subsidies, the unrest quickly spread across the country.

This escalation, along with the government’s uncompromising reaction, is symptomatic of two things: the country’s dire economic conditions, and mounting discontent over disappointed expectations of change in President João Lourenço’s Angola.

After 38 years of rule by José Eduardo dos Santos, Lourenço’s 2017 inauguration briefly had “many Angolans dreaming again”. Those dreams, however, have since been shattered.

One repeatedly broken promise recently slipped by almost unnoticed when, two weeks after the protests, Angola’s parliament quietly wrapped up the legislative year. While Angola’s MPs have begun to pave the way for the 2027 national elections through adjustments to electoral statutes, there was nothing on the agenda about the country’s long-promised local elections.

Over the past 15 years, Angolans have grown accustomed to delays and postponements of what was once hailed as a building block for a more democratic country. Back in 2010, the ruling MPLA had prominently recommitted to the election of local governments – the autarquias – in the country’s constitution.

This promise of decentralisation initially captured the imagination of civil society and international organisations. But it has given way to disillusionment after delays and lukewarm excuses. Justifications alternate between insufficient infrastructure, unresolved legislative issues, or the COVID-19 pandemic.

I am an interdisciplinary social scientist, and for my PhD I studied Angola’s cities and the country’s highly centralised system of local governance.

My research leads me to conclude that Angola’s government has no real interest in establishing the autarquias – at least not anymore. What’s got in the way of the ruling power’s decentralisation strategy has been an astoundingly rapid transformation of Angola’s traditional political geography.

This transformation of demography and party affiliation has increasingly deprived the ruling party, the MPLA, of the urban electorate that it once believed to be its core support group. This helps explain why hopes for systematic change in post-war Angola have mostly faltered.

The reversal of Angola’s political geography

In 2002, Angola emerged from decades of civil war as an autocratic one-party state. In the following years, the MPLA government under Dos Santos cautiously introduced reforms. These included the first peacetime multi-party elections in 2008 and the easing of repression. And with the 2010 constitution, the government recommitted to decentralisation.

After a sweeping 2008 victory, the MPLA stood at the height of its power. It had secured more than 80% of the national vote (the vast majority in all provinces) and Unita, its former war adversary, was weak and discredited. Flush with abundant oil revenues and Chinese credit lines, Angola’s government could feel fairly confident in its grip on power.




Read more:
Angola’s Dos Santos failed to provide a moral example and stop the plunder of the state


It also opted for the idea of “gradualism”. This meant restricting local elections to the party’s traditional city strongholds where it felt most secure in its electoral support.

However, the rise of Unita as the opposition party soon upended the government’s power calculus. Rooted in the Ovimbundu communities of the Angolan highlands, Unita had, during the years of war, often been described and framed as the rural counterpart to the supposedly more modern and urban MPLA. But soon after the war’s end in 2002, the party turned into a serious contender and managed to expand its support base.

It has also emerged as a viable alternative for a young and politically alienated urban electorate in Angola’s cities. For them, Unita offers a potential break with a political system in which they have lost faith.

The electoral results are unambiguous evidence of that. In each national election since 2008, the MPLA lost around 10% of the vote. This dynamic was most pronounced in the capital, Luanda, which Unita officially won for the first time in 2022.

This power shift in Luanda strikes at the very foundation of the MPLA system.

The imperative to control Luanda

Angola is dominated by its capital city – a system that I have elsewhere analysed as “metropolitan bias”. Around 40% of Angolan city dwellers live in the capital. It also generates and absorbs the vast majority of economic and financial resources in the country.

These riches underpin what other researchers have described as a type of urban “political settlement”. This means that the patronage structures and corruption characteristic of post-war Angola fundamentally depend on the financial capital attracted to the oil-fuelled real estate and construction sectors of Luanda.

An oppositional capital would be all but unacceptable to the ruling MPLA.




Read more:
Angola’s president has little to show for his promise of a break with the authoritarian past


Over the years the kleptocratic dynamics of Angola’s elite-controlled system have been laid bare by research on Angola’s political economy and the type of investigative journalism that produced the infamous Luanda Leaks. These have shown how the intertwining of the party-state with the petro-economy has facilitated the blatant self-enrichment of Angola’s ruling class.

In contrast, almost every second Angolan lives on less than US$3.65 a day. For their part, those close to the inner circle of power have largely distributed the country’s oil wealth among themselves.

From promises to manipulation

Judged against its own promises of decentralisation and faced with the emergence of a decidedly urban Unita electorate, the MPLA has a dilemma. For the last 15 years its solution has been to opt for a permanent delay.

Oppositional and civil society groups like the “Jovens pelas autarquias” (Youth for Local Government) have long denounced what’s occurred.

The latest chapter in the Angolan decentralisation saga came in 2025 with a new administrative structure. The number of local government units has been more than doubled and the capital splintered into 16 units.

This reform will allow the MPLA to blame delays on insufficient infrastructure for the foreseeable future. It will also ensure that, should autarquias be established at some point, local governments will remain relatively weak.

This is a well-worn anti-democratic strategy of manipulating decentralisation – tried and tested in countries such as Ethiopia, Malawi and Uganda.

There can be little doubt that the early enthusiasm that greeted Lourenço’s inauguration in 2017 has faded and that the current outlook for local democracy in Angola does not appear much brighter than under his predecessor.

One may therefore reasonably doubt that Angolans will see local elections taking place any time soon.

The most important question ahead is how the MPLA will respond to the type of escalating grievances that have recently erupted in the streets of Luanda. And to what extent it will allow these popular sentiments to find free and fair expression in the 2027 national elections.

The Conversation

Daniel Tjarks has received funding from ‘Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia’ (FCT) under scholarship 2022.12544.BD.

ref. Angolans are fed up with broken promises: why the ruling MPLA keeps stalling local elections – https://theconversation.com/angolans-are-fed-up-with-broken-promises-why-the-ruling-mpla-keeps-stalling-local-elections-264294

Chalk and talk vs. active learning: what’s holding South African teachers back from using proven methods? 

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Lizélle Pretorius, Lecturer in Education, Cape Peninsula University of Technology

Learning experiences have to include opportunities to develop thinking, skills and values. PickPic

As a full-time teacher completing a PhD part-time, I made a decision early on: do research that speaks to the daily realities of teachers and teaching. And so, the idea came from a lived experience – the day I asked one of my grade 11 learners (an A student) about the interpretation of a poem. His response?

Ma’am, please just write the answer on the board so we can study it for the exam.

I am sure that many teachers can relate to that request, which is typical of education framed by a “chalk and talk” approach.

“Chalk and talk” refers to a classroom environment where the teacher does most of the talking. There’s an over-reliance on textbooks and a focus on recall and rote learning. This is your typical “one size fits all” approach to teaching. Learners are mostly motivated to learn to pass their final year exams.

In South Africa, where I work, that’s contrary to what the national curriculum states. The critical outcomes of the Curriculum Assessment Policy Statement say learning has to be active, focus on critical thinking and reasoning, and go beyond memorising.

But that’s the exception rather than the rule in South African classrooms. There is a mismatch between policy and practice.

A US study weighed the pros and cons of active learning vs direct instruction. Ultimately, active learning is essential to promote curiosity, take ownership of one’s learning journey, and develop important social skills.

The goal of my research was simple: to help teachers include active learning activities in their regular classroom routines. I called my intervention the “altered flipped classroom”. The idea originates from the “flipped classroom”, an active learning approach to make the best use of face-to-face time with learners.




Read more:
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Altering the flipped classroom

The flipped classroom makes use of pre-recorded lessons that learners view before coming to class. In class, teachers support them to do their “homework”.

The flipped classroom has been researched in depth and the advantages to learning are impressive. These include improved learning performance and the development of skills such as critical analysis, problem-solving and collaboration. One study discovered that the flipped classroom helped low performers to keep up with their peers.

In South Africa, only 21.48% of public schools have access to the internet for teaching and learning. Because of this limitation, I had to “alter” the flipped classroom by excluding the technology component.




Read more:
Schools must get the basics right before splashing out on technology


For example, instead of relying on online resources, learners can be given a visual representation of a poem along with a few guiding questions to prepare at home for the next day’s lesson. In class, they could then share their responses with a peer or the whole group.

This simple adjustment can enable meaningful contributions and include participation from all learners in a class.

Teachers take on the challenge

I invited Grade 8-11 teachers in public and private schools in the Western Cape province to participate. Thirty-one teachers attended the online training, and nine took part in the study. Their teaching experience ranged from first-year to over 30 years. They also received a teacher manual which included the background of the flipped classroom, its underlying theories, and practical examples of how to start. Teachers were asked to flip their classroom for three consecutive lessons and to keep a research diary to capture their experiences. These were also discussed during online interviews.

The aim was to explore what had been holding them back from active learning methods. It turned out that they experienced internal and external pressures. Teachers had to overcome possible judgement for “teaching differently” and faced uncertainty regarding the changing of roles. They also experienced fear of having less control, and noted their old habits and mindsets of teaching.

Voices from the classroom

The teachers in my study were concerned about what colleagues or management might think:

If someone walked into my class, it would have seemed like … the kids were playing around, not working, but they were. It just … looked different.

Teachers had to face their own deep-rooted habits and mindsets, which mostly centred on control. This appeared to come from their well-established teacher identities, shaped by their beliefs, assumptions and experiences with regard to their own teaching and how they were taught.

One teacher emphasised the need to move from “a conservative in a box kind of teacher”. One said “my classroom is my stage”; another “felt territorial about {her} space”.

Some teachers recognised the need for change. One said, “I feel like we can break that habit” and another, “We cannot do it the way we have always done it”. They started to become aware of old habits that influenced their practice:

It’s so like hammered into me that you have to be in the front, you have to teach.

From passive learning to purposeful growth

Ideally, teachers will challenge themselves to question the chalk and talk comfort zone and the system that reinforces it.

If nothing changes, learners are being set up to be dependent on their teachers.

The teachers reported many advantages for active learning, such as increased motivation and learners taking responsibility for their learning.

Teachers should be encouraged to go beyond the boundaries of traditional teaching. Learning experiences have to include opportunities to develop thinking, skills and values. Apart from knowledge, these are essential when entering the workforce or when studying a post-school qualification.

Change is not always easy, but it is necessary.

The Conversation

Lizélle Pretorius received funding from UNISA as part of a bursary when completing her PhD.

She is currently a member of ISATT (International Study Association of Teachers and Teaching) and the Junior coordinator of EARLI’s Special Interest Group 22 (Neuroscience and Education)

ref. Chalk and talk vs. active learning: what’s holding South African teachers back from using proven methods?  – https://theconversation.com/chalk-and-talk-vs-active-learning-whats-holding-south-african-teachers-back-from-using-proven-methods-263216

What is ableism? Words can hurt people but African culture offers an alternative

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Sibonokuhle Ndlovu, Lecturer, University of Johannesburg

“You speak good English for a Black person.”

“Why are the plates not washed when there is a woman in this house?”

“Can I touch your hair?”

These are some common microaggressions you might have heard before, especially if you’re a Black woman.

Microaggressions can be projected to Black people because they are expected to speak perfect English when it’s not even their language. Or because what’s natural hair to them seems exotic to someone from another culture. They can be projected because of sexism that says women in African cultures belong in the kitchen.

What are microaggressions?

Microaggressions are comments or actions that reveal prejudice against marginalised people or a group of people who are oppressed. They might be micro (small or everyday) and they might manifest unconsciously or without harmful intentions. But even so, microaggressions are hurtful and devalue the people they’re projected on to.

What is ableism?

So then, what are ableist microaggressions? Ableism is a worldview in which ability and being able-bodied is favoured over disability.

Saying to a wheelchair user, “Ah, I see you are going for a stroll.” Or speaking slowly to them as if they can’t grasp what you’re saying. Or owning an office without wheelchair access. Those can be seen as ableist microaggressions. Using terms related to disability out of context is ableist: “You must be blind.” Even if said to a sighted person, it’s insensitive to people who might actually have impaired vision.




Read more:
Here are some dos and don’ts to help tackle ableism


Ableist microaggressions are made by able-bodied people who don’t understand the realities of living with a disability. Sometimes they don’t mean to be harmful or they think they are helping by, for example, doing things for disabled people that the disabled person can actually do for themselves.

Even so, ableist microaggressions create a situation of unequal power dynamics because they make people with disabilities feel inferior, incapable or unintelligent.

Black women with a disability

As a scholar of inclusive education and disability in higher education, my research often focuses on disability and gender. I recently published a paper that reviewed studies of ableist microaggressions projected on to Black women with disabilities in southern Africa.

The paper explored how microaggressions affect these women in Zimbabwe, South Africa and Eswatini. The three countries share similar cultural values, identity and beliefs when it comes to gender, race and disability. And how these three things intersect.

In these cultures, women are generally honoured and might be called “izimbokodo” (grinding stones). It might be socially accepted that “a home cannot be a home without a woman” and, in the case of South Africa, issues of human rights might have improved over the years. Yet ableist microaggressions projected on women remain common, and even more so Black and disabled women.




Read more:
Sexual health is an extra struggle for women with disabilities: findings from 10 African countries


This has a negative effect on them particularly when it comes to making individual life choices, marriage and childbearing – as it does women without disabilities.

For example, in some parts of South Africa, when women who are disabled appear pregnant in public, many people assume they were raped. They don’t assume a woman with disability had sexual agency and she is shamed and treated as unusual. It makes it even harder for her to receive equal healthcare and social standing.

For Black African women with disabilities, the impact of ableist microaggressions is worse because they have an intersectional struggle – they experience several forms of discrimination. They face racism, sexism and ableism, often at the same time.

Why ubuntu matters

The question I ask in my study is what might help Black women with disabilities to be empowered to dismantle ableist microaggressions. The answer lies in the past. I argue that ubuntu is an important weapon against this form of discrimination.

Ubuntu is an African philosophy common to the region that is understood by different people in different ways. But it can best be explained through the isiZulu saying, “umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu” (We are because of them). This means that a person is a person through other people.

In a worldview of care and cooperation like this, every human being in a community is valuable despite their gender, race or ability. Ubuntu helps people understand that they are dependent on each other. They need each other despite their differences.




Read more:
Ubuntu matters: rural South Africans believe community care should go hand-in-hand with development


In many precolonial African societies disability was positively conceived. Another isiZulu saying goes, “Akusilima sindlebende kwaso”. It means that disabled people are accepted and loved in their homes.

However, colonialism changed all that. Africans were reduced to being workers for European masters. Colonialism normalised able-bodied workers and regarded disabled bodies as inferior. This was further entrenched by colonial morality, which would shape social thinking in the region.

This mindset still plays out today in the modern African societies in these studies. Black women with disabilities are viewed as helpless, and so they are an easy target for ableist microaggression.

A system of thinking like ubuntu would give Black women with disabilities the opportunity for dignity and the agency to fight against the damaging effects of ableist microaggressions that they face in their daily lives.

The Conversation

Sibonokuhle Ndlovu receives funding from the University Research Council of the University of Johannesburg.

ref. What is ableism? Words can hurt people but African culture offers an alternative – https://theconversation.com/what-is-ableism-words-can-hurt-people-but-african-culture-offers-an-alternative-263288

Nigerian photographer Michael Oyinbokure challenges stereotypes about migrants

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By George Emeka Agbo, Lecturer in the Arts of Africa, University of Edinburgh

As migration continues to dominate global news and shape political discourse, mainstream media often carry stereotypical images of immigrants, portraying them as displaced, desperate, criminal.

The photographic practice of UK-based Nigerian artist Michael Oyinbokure (also known as Mike Kure) shows how African artists construct counter-narratives. He uses photography to express insider perspectives on life in the diaspora (abroad).

His art photography presents what immigrants bring with them, their resilience, inventiveness, and enduring connection to their homelands.




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I am a scholar and teacher who uses Oyinbokure’s work as a case study in my undergraduate African Photography course. My research uses the Nigerian case to explore photography as a means for understanding Africa’s colonial and postcolonial histories, including the socio-political forces driving migration.

Through a variety of techniques, Oyinbokure portrays immigrants as people who bear knowledge, cultural heritage and creative traditions. They constantly navigate questions of identity, belonging and survival as they move through different places and build a new life within their host communities.

His photographs offer complexity, dignity and humanity in a world that often seems to lack it.

Who is Michael Oyinbokure?

Born in Lagos, Nigeria in 1997, Oyinbokure studied computer science at the Federal University of Agriculture in Abeokuta. He received a master’s degree in project management from Coventry University in London. But he was fascinated by the possibilities for display and archiving of photographs on internet platforms like Instagram. His own practice as a photographer would follow.

Oyinbokure has been influenced by the work of Seydou Keïta, a renowned Malian photographer, and by Rotimi Fani-Kayode, a Nigerian photographer who moved to the UK with his parents in 1966. This was shortly after Nigerian independence from British colonial rule and during the crisis that climaxed in the Nigeria-Biafra war.

Oyinbokure found in photography a language to convey the experiences of prejudice, displacement, and the crises of identity and belonging that he witnessed in Nigeria and in the UK. He moved there to study in 2022.

In the UK, Oyinbokure turned his camera to his fellow migrants. He showed them busy with economic activities or posing in studio settings. He sometimes enhanced these settings with touches of body painting and costume display. Through these images, he seeks to illuminate displacement and the everyday realities that define the lives of Black immigrants.

Masked realities

A good example of Oyinbokure’s approach to his photo-storytelling is the Masked Realities project in 2024. Here he worked with Lebanese-Nigerian painter Sinatra Zantout and with Nigerian immigrants in Peckham in the UK.

Oyinbokure’s photos show women going about their jobs. They are running traditional African clothing stalls, offering hairstyling services. Their work symbolises both economic mobility and cultural identity.

They tell a story of economic integration within the diaspora, of resilience, of women striving to survive and thrive in a new environment. But beyond documenting labour and survival, the photos encode elements of cultural heritage. The women’s activities and settings project the aesthetics of their African roots.

Some photographs from the series were translated into paintings by Zantout and exhibited alongside the full body of Oyinbokure’s work at the Play Room Gallery in London. A piece from the collaboration received the Dubel Prize. Another artwork from the partnership with a different Nigerian artist, Ken Nwadiogbu, was nominated for the Circa Prize.

Portraits

Besides photographing real-life situations, Oyinbokure also adopts a performative approach that involves careful curation of his subjects. This technique exploits the creative and expressive potential of pose. It incorporates visual elements like costumes, accessories and body painting in a studio set-up.

It recalls the African studio portrait photography of the early 1900s: the genre that brought Mali’s Malick Sidibé and Seydou Keïta into the limelight. With studio backdrops, props, accessories and co-produced poses, these photographers created images that came to signify the placement of Africans within the frame of modernity.

We see similar co-production in Oyinbokure’s Echoes of Pain, The Truce, Crowned in Silence, and In Bloom series.

Sidibé and Keïta’s photos allowed viewers to imagine liberation. Oyinbokure’s, on the other hand, curate the body through facial expressions, body paintings and gestures to speak of the emotional burdens of life in the diaspora.

In Bloom

For instance, he created the In Bloom series by working with a young Somalian woman living in London who was coping with the loss of her parents. Across the images, her facial expressions, body movements, and the blurs produced through multiple exposures evoke a profound sense of loss. This bereavement transcends the personal. It mirrors the broader sense of estrangement that often defines the African migrant experience.

Exhibiting and sharing the photos on Oyinbokure’s website and social media platforms broadens their audience.

The images have been featured in numerous exhibitions, within community spaces and on the international stage. They have been in art shows with names like Echoes of Pain, Boundaries and Borders, Echoes of the Past, and Boundless Horizons.

Pushing boundaries

Oyinbokure is a young artist who continues to push the conceptual boundaries of art photography. Increasingly he is using props and accessories like mats and travel boxes in his work. These carry Nigerian cultural symbolism and evoke movement and migration.




Read more:
The award-winning African documentary project that goes inside the lives of migrants


Many parts of the world are seeing harsh immigration policies and rising racial and xenophobic hostilities. These are often justified by migrants being portrayed as illegal, defiant, and as threats to security and economic stability. This perception is reinforced by images in the media.

Oyinbokure is driven by a desire to tell the stories that are not often told because they do not conform to dominant stereotypes. They are stories of Africans living their lives, carrying with them their cultures, helping to build communities – real people, not faceless numbers.

The Conversation

George Emeka Agbo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Nigerian photographer Michael Oyinbokure challenges stereotypes about migrants – https://theconversation.com/nigerian-photographer-michael-oyinbokure-challenges-stereotypes-about-migrants-264795

2027 Nigerian poll could trigger unrest unless electoral commission is fixed

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Onyedikachi Madueke, Teaching Assistant, University of Aberdeen

Political activities heralding Nigeria’s 2027 general elections are beginning to pick up.

Politicians are limbering up, alliances are being whispered about, political war chests are being filled, and campaign narratives are being sharpened.

The country’s rapidly growing social mobilisation (online and offline) places great demands on the electoral system. Especially the referee – the Independent National Electoral Commission.

If it can’t deliver credible polls, the country risks sliding into political unrest.

In 2022, a new Electoral Act handed the commission new powers, legalised the use of election technology, and guaranteed its funding a year ahead of the polls.

But there were still reports of irregularities.

Flawed elections do more than produce disputed winners – they deepen cynicism, depress turnout, and risk violence.

Nigeria’s example matters. It’s Africa’s largest democracy. Its electoral standards influence the region. If 2027 repeats 2023’s failures, other west African leaders might feel they can treat election commissions as political tools.

My recently published research examined the factors constraining Nigeria’s electoral commission from conducting credible elections and safeguarding electoral integrity, using the 2023 polls as a case study.

The study identified four issues undermining the commission’s effectiveness: eroded autonomy, corruption, weak adherence to its own rules, and compromised personnel recruitment.

The commission needs legal reinforcement to shield it from state capture, improve its technological capacity, deepen civic engagement and accountability, and safeguard electoral integrity.

Why the commission struggles to deliver credible polls

For my study I interviewed senior electoral commission staff, representatives of political parties (the All Progressives Congress, People’s Democratic Party and Labour Party) and other political stakeholders. I also drew on materials from the commission’s website, relevant online sources, news reports, social media content, and official documents.

Some of the key issues identified include:

1.) Independence

On paper, the electoral commission is financially independent. But the real power lies in leadership appointments, which remain in the hands of the president, subject to Senate confirmation.

In practice, appointees are often politically connected, sometimes openly partisan. Civil society groups flagged these risks ahead of 2023, but partisan nominees still took up sensitive electoral posts.

This matters because leadership shapes decisions. The commission’s abandonment of real-time result uploads in the 2023 presidential poll – a core promise – fuelled suspicions of political influence.

2.) Corruption

Politicians and insiders alike admit that electoral officials, especially temporary staff, are routinely offered and often accept cash inducements. The euphemism is “sachet water” money. The impact is serious: turning a blind eye to vote buying, altering result sheets, or simply ensuring “friendly” polling officers are assigned to strategic locations.

The 2023 polls brought fresh allegations: from officials charging voters to collect their voter cards, to attempted bribes for changing the result figures.

3.) Technology

The biggest promise of 2023 was about technology. The biometric voter accreditation system and result viewing portal were designed to stop the familiar rigging playbook: stuffing ballot boxes, falsifying tallies, and “doctoring” results. The commission told voters that presidential results would be uploaded in real time. It didn’t happen.

On election day, the commission blamed “technical glitches” for the failure to upload presidential results. Oddly, the same system worked fine for National Assembly results cast the same day. Investigative journalists later uncovered glaring discrepancies between polling-unit figures and the results published on the portal.

Many believe abandoning the result viewing portal technology made it easier for the result of the 2023 presidential poll to be manipulated. This wasn’t just a technical hiccup; it was a breach of legal guidelines and public trust.

4.) Workforce

The electoral commission’s permanent staff is small; for a nationwide election, it leans on over a million ad hoc recruits. The recruitment process is vulnerable to political interference.

Training is inconsistent, with little formal induction for new permanent staff and ad hoc workers alike. As experienced staff retire without structured knowledge transfer, institutional memory weakens. Add in the temptation of bribes, and you have a workforce prone to both errors and manipulation.

Four reforms for a credible 2027 poll

If Nigeria is serious about credible polls, reform of the electoral commission must start now. Four priorities stand out:

1.) Merit-based leadership and staff recruitment: Remove the president’s sole power to appoint the commission’s top leadership. A multi-stakeholder panel should vet and nominate candidates. The commission must have a standing professional electoral service corps (career election officers) to replace the heavy reliance on temporary workers.

2.) Improve technology and enforce rule compliance: The commission needs a stronger ICT infrastructure, redundancy systems, and independent audits of its electoral technology. Publishing results promptly at the polling unit level (and protecting them from tampering) is critical. Update and integrate the voter register with biometric and national ID systems.

3.) Legal and dispute resolution: Pre-election litigation timelines should be tightened so that disputes over candidacy, party primaries and voter registration are settled well before election day. Post-election adjudication must also be concluded prior to inauguration.

Stricter penalties are necessary to end the culture of impunity surrounding electoral offences. Swift trials, stiff sanctions, and disqualification of political actors who benefit from malpractice should be enforced.

4.) Civic engagement and accountability: The commission must educate voters, particularly on issues such as vote buying, technology, and citizens’ rights.

Civil society observers, media and civic tech groups should get open access and be treated as partners.

Accountability reports before, during and after elections are essential to rebuild public trust and confidence in the electoral process.

Conclusion

The race for 2027 is already on, but the real contest isn’t between the parties or personalities. It’s between a compromised electoral institution and the reforms needed to make it worthy of public trust.

Nigeria needs to fix the electoral commission’s independence, root out its corruption, enforce its rules, and professionalise its workforce.

The Conversation

Onyedikachi Madueke does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. 2027 Nigerian poll could trigger unrest unless electoral commission is fixed – https://theconversation.com/2027-nigerian-poll-could-trigger-unrest-unless-electoral-commission-is-fixed-263974

South Africa’s student debt trap: two options that could help resolve the problem

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Michele Van Eck, Associate professor in the School of Law at University of the Witwatersrand, who specialises in the areas of contracts, legal ethics and education. , University of the Witwatersrand

Education is widely regarded as the road to a better life. Yet the rising cost of tertiary education means many students can only go to university if they get financial aid, bursaries or loans.

South Africa’s National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS) offers students bursaries or loans which provide allowances for tuition and registration fees, books, travel and accommodation. But this type of funding applies only under specific and limited conditions. Many students fall outside its scope.

Students who are not enrolled for a qualification that is approved by the Department of Higher Education, or who wish to study for a second undergraduate qualification, or who are studying at private institutions, don’t qualify to get the funding.

The result is that many students can’t keep up with paying their university fees. In 2025 South African universities collectively held about R9.3 billion (US$528 million) in student debt that had remained unpaid since 2023.

Universities have been trying different methods to pressure students and graduates to pay outstanding student debts. This has included withholding of degree certificates, academic transcripts and marks.

Universities require funding to operate effectively, pay staff and maintain infrastructure. But withholding academic documents from indebted students may prevent them from securing employment – the very means by which they could repay their debts. These practices, while commercially defensible, often have the opposite effect. According to Unesco, “student loans generally have catastrophic effects for students and families across the world”.

It seems reasonable to conclude that student debt collection practices may entrench poverty and make it harder for graduates to get jobs.

From recent court cases, it appears that this issue is especially pronounced in the legal profession. Law graduates face additional scrutiny, as admission to the profession requires not only academic qualifications but also proof of moral character. The Legal Practice Act 28 of 2014 mandates that candidates be “fit and proper” individuals, embodying values such as honesty, integrity and reliability. Outstanding debt may be seen as a contrast to the values of honesty and integrity.

Fulfilling financial obligations can indeed have a bearing on ethics (a field I study as a legal scholar). But as I argue in a recent paper, it’s necessary to distinguish between graduates who are unwilling to pay and those who are genuinely unable to.

I also propose a couple of ways this could be achieved so that universities get their money and graduates get their start in working life.

How universities collect debt

Unlike South Africa, some countries have taken steps to deal with the impact of student debt.

My paper highlights that, in the United States, several states don’t allow universities and colleges to withhold degree certificates and transcripts (records of academic activity) over unpaid fees. They recognise that those debt-collection practices hinder employment and make inequality worse. Instead, they promote other strategies, like repayment plans related to income, or policies for how to treat students who are experiencing hardship.

In the United Kingdom, universities are advised not to use academic sanctions to recover non-academic debts, such as accommodation fees. Consumer protection laws treat students as consumers, allowing them to challenge unfair contractual terms. If a university’s contract includes provisions to withhold degrees for unpaid fees, students may contest these clauses as unjust.

South Africa lacks similar legal safeguards. Each university sets its own rules. These range from students not being able to graduate unless all fees are paid, to the withholding of certificates from students not in good financial standing, and even preventing students from viewing their examination scripts if they owe money. Some examples may be found at the University of the Free State (page 27), University of Pretoria (page 16) and University of the Witwatersrand.

Law students face additional hurdles

In the legal profession, financial responsibility is often tied to ethical conduct. Lawyers manage trust accounts, client funds and sensitive legal matters. Integrity is non-negotiable.

However, the inability to pay student debts is not inherently dishonest. Some students fall into debt due to circumstances beyond their control, like family obligations, socio-economic conditions, unemployment or the sheer cost of education.

South African courts have grappled with outstanding student debts when it comes to admitting law graduates to the profession. The courts’ approach has been inconsistent.

In Ex Parte Tlotlego the court emphasised that poverty should not bar entry into the legal profession. It said courts should not require proof of debt repayment arrangements, which would be unfair to students from disadvantaged backgrounds.

But in Ex Parte Makamu the court found that a law graduate must still demonstrate how they intend to settle their debts to satisfy the ethical standards of honesty and integrity.

More recently, Ex Parte Galela reinforced this view. The court declined the application for admission because it wasn’t clear why the law graduate hadn’t paid off their debt. It suggested that financial irresponsibility could reflect poorly on the graduate’s character.

The courts’ approach and general student debt-collection practices often fail to differentiate between students who cannot pay and those who choose not to. This distinction is vital. A student who ignores their debt without justification may raise ethical concerns. But a student who is willing to pay yet lacks the financial means should not be penalised.

Solutions

The solution lies in balancing the financial interests of universities with the socio-economic realities of students. Student debts must be repaid, but repayment mechanisms must also be fair and sustainable.

There have been attempts to find a solution, such as the draft Student Relief Bill, which proposes setting up a Student Debt Relief Fund. But that might place unsustainable pressure on the economy.

I have another proposal: allowing graduates to receive their degree certificates regardless of outstanding debt, along with two legislative interventions. These are:

  1. Automatic garnishee orders: upon graduation, an automatic garnishee order (a court order directing an employer to deduct a certain amount from an employee’s income) could be placed on future salaries of a graduate. This would ensure that student debt is repaid over time.

  2. Amendment to the Prescription Act 68 of 1969: This could exclude student debt from prescribing (becoming too old to collect). Normally, such a debt would prescribe after three years. An amendment would allow universities to recover debts for the duration of graduates’ employment, not just within three years.

These measures would uphold the financial sustainability of universities while protecting the dignity and future employment prospects of graduates.

The Conversation

Michele Van Eck does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. South Africa’s student debt trap: two options that could help resolve the problem – https://theconversation.com/south-africas-student-debt-trap-two-options-that-could-help-resolve-the-problem-262555

Should African countries lower the voting age to 16? Views from Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya and Nigeria

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Amanuel Tesfaye, Doctoral Researcher, University of Helsinki

The UK is moving to lower its voting age from 18 to 16. The new legislation takes effect ahead of the country’s next general election in 2029, and is aimed at boosting its democracy. The move has ignited global debate: should 16-year-olds be trusted with the ballot?

For African countries, where young people make up the majority of the population but often feel shut out of politics, the question is especially pressing. We spoke to political researchers from Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya and Nigeria for their views.

The Conversation

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Should African countries lower the voting age to 16? Views from Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya and Nigeria – https://theconversation.com/should-african-countries-lower-the-voting-age-to-16-views-from-ethiopia-ghana-kenya-and-nigeria-263396

Nigeria’s use of soldiers for civilian tasks comes with serious costs – how to prevent this

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Sallek Yaks Musa, Lecturer, University of Northampton

Nigerians have experienced what it means for their government to be controlled by the military.

From independence in 1960 until 1999, the country was under democratic rule for only about seven years. Since then, the military has taken a back seat in the affairs of the state. But in 2020, then president Muhammadu Buhari deployed the military to enforce restrictions imposed to manage the COVID pandemic.

This was not unusual. The armed forces have long been used in Nigeria for roles normally assigned to the police, from quelling protests to responding to floods.

In more than 30 states, troops were already involved in counter insurgency, anti-banditry, peacekeeping, and other security missions. COVID related orders extended this presence, making soldiers highly visible on patrols and roadblocks.

The military’s tasks included enforcing curfews, dispersing gatherings and closing markets – functions usually handled by the police. Two presidential regulations under the Quarantine Act expanded the powers of the security agencies.

Alongside enforcement, the military provided medical and logistical support. Military hospitals were used for treatment. The military assigned more than 220 personnel to the overstretched health sector. The Air Force moved medical supplies across the country, and military researchers joined regional vaccine collaborations.

Nigeria’s armed forces number about 223,000, with more than two thirds of this number in the army. Without a robust reserve force, Nigeria’s regular troops remain the main option for emergencies.

I am a security researcher, focusing on the evolving nature of civil-military relations and their implications for peace and security in Nigeria. In my contribution to the book Military Operations in Response to Domestic Emergencies and Global Pandemics, I wrote about treating a public health emergency as a security threat.

I described how the Nigerian military demonstrated adaptability and reach during the pandemic by providing logistics and health support. But reliance on soldiers for civilian enforcement revealed serious costs: human rights abuses, corruption, weak oversight and the diversion of resources from security operations.

In future emergencies, Nigeria needs a more balanced civil-military framework where soldiers act as partners in service rather than feared enforcers. Relying on soldiers for civilian tasks often has immense consequences.

The accountability gap

Nigeria has laws authorising military deployment in aid of civil authorities under presidential order with parliamentary oversight. Section 217(2) of Nigeria’s constitution and section 8(3) of the Armed Forces Act permit internal deployment to restore order and maintain public safety. Section 218 subjects presidential authority to legislative checks and control.

In practice, however, checks are weak. This was evident during the COVID deployment. Other issues evident from that time include:

Command and scope

Buhari’s March 2020 address announcing lockdowns referred vaguely to security agencies, without formal authorisation for the military. Yet the Defence Headquarters declared its readiness to act.

The ambiguity raised questions about authorisation of military deployments and constitutional compliance. With no clear rules of engagement, soldiers had wide discretion. Often, this translated into space for abuse and excessive use of force. Disproportionate punishment of curfew violators became the norm.

Checks and balances

Courts hold the authority to review military action. But during the lockdown judicial deference to the executive and weak legislative scrutiny meant abuses of civilians went unchecked.

Civilian leaders tolerated overreach for political expediency, giving the military more space in civilian matters than is acceptable in a democracy.

The opportunity costs

The deployment of troops placed heavy strain on already stretched forces. Personnel and resources were diverted from counter insurgency and anti banditry campaigns.

Armed groups, especially Boko Haram, shifted from targeting civilians to attacking the military, achieving initial successes despite countermeasures. They also intensified recruitment among people impoverished by lockdown job losses and spread misinformation to weaken public health messaging. More than 100 lives were lost and over 50 attacks by bandits were recorded in the north-west states of Sokoto, Zamfara, Katsina and Kaduna between April and July 2020.

The closure of military schools and training centres and restrictions on gatherings had an impact on timely completion of training and readiness for missions.

Lockdowns also coincided with a rise in armed robbery.

Corruption

Soldiers at checkpoints extorted money from truck drivers and travellers, often ignoring official permits.

COVID measures undermined

The military approach undermined public health goals. Fear of troops discouraged cooperation with contact tracers, while corruption and unlawful violence deepened public distrust and resistance to preventive measures.

In some areas, civilians refused to cooperate with health officials, obstructed patrols or withheld information about rule-breakers.

Abuses

The military’s reputation in domestic operations was already mixed, with critics citing unprofessionalism and human rights abuses in previous deployments. As the National Human Rights Commission report on COVID-19 enforcement observed, heavy handed enforcement of pandemic restrictions reinforced these perceptions.

Abuses were widespread: curfew violators were beaten; health workers were harassed.

In the first two weeks of enforcement, personnel killed 18 civilians, more than the virus had at that stage. Few of these cases were prosecuted and military trials lacked transparency.

Lessons learnt

The COVID-19 deployment illustrated persistent gaps in Nigeria’s civil-military relations. For future public health or disaster responses, Nigeria’s government could draw five main lessons:

Clear authorisation: Internal military roles should be grounded in explicit presidential orders, endorsed and bounded by parliamentary legislation, with the scope and duration defined.

Rules of engagement: Domestic missions need clear guidelines that stress minimal force, rights protection, and coordination with civil agencies.

Stronger police capacity: Building police capability in equipment, training and community relations would reduce reliance on soldiers for enforcement. The military should focus on logistics and medical support.

Effective oversight: Legislative committees and independent rights bodies must monitor deployments, investigate abuses promptly and refer all over-reach for immediate action.

Rebuild public trust: Training on civilian engagement, human rights and inter-agency coordination would improve professionalism of personnel and restore the public legitimacy of the institution.

The Conversation

Sallek Yaks Musa does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Nigeria’s use of soldiers for civilian tasks comes with serious costs – how to prevent this – https://theconversation.com/nigerias-use-of-soldiers-for-civilian-tasks-comes-with-serious-costs-how-to-prevent-this-263984

Gender equality is the goal, but how to get there? Case study of South Africa and Australia shows that context matters

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Roula Inglesi-Lotz, Professor of Economics, University of Pretoria

It will take an estimated 131 years for the world to achieve gender parity, defined as equal access, opportunities and outcomes for women and men across economic, political, educational and health dimensions. That’s according to the World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Gap Report 2023.

Most of us alive today will never see it happen.

Gender parity matters because women make up more than half of the world’s population, and excluding them from full participation has economic and social costs. Closing the gap is not only a matter of fairness. It’s a condition for sustained growth, innovation and societal wellbeing.

The slow pace of progress raises a question about what more needs to be done. Are countries pursuing the right kind of policies? It’s tempting to look for “best practices” and replicate them. But a closer look at how different nations approach gender equality shows there is no universal path.

Our research team of economists examined how different countries design gender equality policies. In our paper, we set out to compare South Africa and Australia to understand how context shapes approaches.

The two countries have very different histories, economies and institutions. Nevertheless, both aspire to gender equality.

We found that South Africa represents an equity-based approach, rooted in redress after apartheid. Australia has an equality-focused strategy that emphasises workplace reforms, reporting and institutional mechanisms. Equality can be defined as access to the same rights, freedoms, and opportunities for each citizens. Equity refers to providing social justice by assisting the most disadvantaged members of society. Equality implies treating all individuals similarly while equity involves differentiated treatment.

Our analysis shows why context matters more than copying models. What works in one place may not translate elsewhere. Importing Australia’s corporate gender strategies into South Africa without tackling issues that matter most in the country would miss the core issue.

Similarly, Australia does not need South Africa’s equity-based affirmative action framework in the same way. Instead, Australia aims to dismantle persistent gender inequalities in pay, workforce participation and leadership representation.

The better approach is to share lessons rather than adapt strategies. South Africa can learn from Australia’s corporate and fiscal gender mainstreaming. Australia can take note of South Africa’s insistence that equity requires actively putting things right when past discrimination lingers.

South Africa’s equity-based path

South Africa’s gender policies are deeply connected to its post-apartheid transformation. This sought to dismantle the structures of racial segregation and inequality.

Apartheid not only excluded the majority population from political, social and economic participation, it also compounded gender inequalities. Black women in particular faced a “double exclusion,” denied rights and opportunities both as Black citizens and as women.

After the first democratic elections in 1994 gender measures were therefore framed as part of the broader project of redress, seeking to dismantle these intersecting structures of racial and gender disadvantage.

With this history of exclusion and structural injustice, the country had to focus on equity and redress.

South Africa has prioritised laws and frameworks addressing gender-based violence and reproductive rights. It has also introduced employment equity legislation, gender-sensitive budgeting initiatives, and affirmative action measures to improve women’s representation in the workplace and politics.

The approach recognises that simply treating everyone “equally” on paper is not enough in a society historically hurt by systemic discrimination.

Yet progress across these areas – from reproductive rights and workplace participation to tackling gender-based violence – has been uneven.

South Africa continues to face very high unemployment, deep income inequality and persistent workplace discrimination on both racial and gender grounds.

The Gender Social Norms Index (2023) found that 97.3% of South Africans hold at least one gender bias. For example, many respondents agreed with statements such as “men make better political leaders than women” or “men have more right to jobs when jobs are scarce”.

This is among the highest rates globally. It shows how policy targets often are not in synch with cultural and social norms.

Australia’s equality-oriented path

Australia pursued a more institutional and corporate-focused route. Its stable liberal democracy and high-income economy provided the foundation for a series of workplace equality reforms. Beginning in the 1980s it introduced successive laws, including the Sex Discrimination Act and, later, the Workplace Gender Equality Act.

This focus stemmed from long-standing advocacy for women’s workplace rights and recognition that gender gaps in pay and leadership positions persisted despite overall prosperity.

Such workplace reforms are not absent in South Africa. But in Australia they have been at the centre of the strategy, supported by strong corporate governance structures and economic stability.

Australia has also used fiscal tools. It reintroduced the Women’s Budget Statement in 2013 after it was discontinued in the mid-1990s. It requires government budgets to assess how spending and tax measures affect women differently. This ensures that economic policy is evaluated through a gender lens.

A Women’s Economic Equality Taskforce was also set up in 2022 to advise the government. This approach prioritises equality in participation and opportunity, ensuring women have the same access to jobs, pay and leadership roles.

The results show measurable progress. Australia improved its position in the Global Gender Gap Index, ranking 13th in 2025.

But challenges remain, particularly in narrowing the wage gap and achieving parity in leadership positions.

Cultural change has proven slower than institutional reform.

What the comparison shows

On paper, both countries are relatively high performers in terms of gender parity. In the Global Gender Gap Index 2025, South Africa ranked 33rd and Australia 13th out of 146 countries. Yet their policy emphases and challenges differ sharply.

Using indicators such as the Global Gender Gap Index, Gender Inequality Index, and employment-to-population ratios, our study shows that while both South Africa and Australia rank relatively high in global comparisons, their challenges diverge sharply.

In South Africa, women’s labour force participation – defined as the share of women aged 15 and older who are either employed or actively seeking work – remains low at 35.4% in 2022 compared to 59.1% in Australia. By contrast, men’s participation rates were 55.5% in South Africa and 69.5% in Australia.

This means the gap between men and women is much larger in South Africa.

Australia performs better on participation and pay gap reforms, but progress is slower in shifting underlying cultural attitudes.

Closing the gap

Our findings confirm that gender equality advances through different pathways, shaped by each country’s social, historical and institutional context. And that no universal model can address such diverse realities.

Gender equality is not just about ticking boxes in international rankings. It is about recognising that different societies need different tools – and that tailored, evidence-based policies are our best hope to close the gap in less than 131 years.

The Conversation

Roula Inglesi-Lotz receives funding from the National Research Foundation (NRF).

Anna Maria Oosthuizen receives funding from the University of Pretoria. Relevant affiliations: SA-TIED UNU-WIDER

Nguyen Tuan Khuong Truong receives funding from the Australia Africa Universities Network (AAUN).

Getrude Njokwe, Heinrich Bohlmann, Helen Cabalu, Hiroaki Suenaga, Jessika Bohlmann, Julian Inchauspe, and Margaret Chitiga-Mabugu do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Gender equality is the goal, but how to get there? Case study of South Africa and Australia shows that context matters – https://theconversation.com/gender-equality-is-the-goal-but-how-to-get-there-case-study-of-south-africa-and-australia-shows-that-context-matters-264202