Madagascar coup: how turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Jonathan Powell, Visiting assistant professor, University of Kentucky

What began in late September as Madagascar’s student demonstrations over crippling electricity outages and water shortages quickly evolved into broader demands for political reform. It became a call to dismantle a system widely seen as corrupt and unaccountable, and for President Andry Rajoelina to resign.

As demonstrations swelled across the country, the embattled president sought to restore order through curfews, the dismissal of his energy minister, and ultimately the dissolution of his government. To no avail.

Eventually, the elite CAPSAT unit – the same corps that had propelled Rajoelina to power during the 2009 coup – overthrew him. Once CAPSAT soldiers joined protesters, seized control of the armed forces and exchanged fire with loyalist troops, Rajoelina fled the country.

From abroad, he attempted to dissolve parliament in a bid to block impeachment proceedings. Mere hours later, CAPSAT announced it had seized power, dissolved most state institutions, and assumed control of the government.

Yet while Rajoelina’s domestic legitimacy faced severe challenges, he continued to enjoy regional recognition, most notably as the current chair of the Southern African Development Community (SADC). This suggests that leaders whose authority is widely contested at home can still receive regional and international validation.

Even as Malagasy citizens mobilised to demand accountability, institutions like the SADC repeatedly conferred legitimacy on a president with dubious democratic credentials. That’s despite their ostensible commitment to democratic governance and constitutional order.

As scholars who have published extensively on coups and political instability in Africa, we contend that this disconnect between regional endorsement and domestic opposition undermines the credibility of such organisations.

In turn, this limits their ability to deter antidemocratic behaviour, including coups, executive overreach, and the erosion of institutional checks and balances.

Elected, but illegitimate?

Questions over Rajoelina’s democratic legitimacy were far from new. In February 2009, then the mayor of Antananarivo, he attempted to declare himself president in the midst of mass demonstrations against the Marc Ravalomanana regime. He didn’t succeed but a subsequent military coup installed him as the interim leader.

That was widely condemned as an unconstitutional takeover. Madagascar was suspended from both the African Union and the SADC. His unwillingness to step down contributed to a stalled transition process that took nearly five years.

Rajoelina prevailed in the 2018 vote. While that election was widely regarded as legitimate, despite some irregularities, the 2023 electoral cycle was not. There were accusations of a pre-determined process, protests, a legal challenge to Rajoelina’s eligibility, limitations on opposition rallies and calls to delay until a more credible process could be organised.

In an especially revealing act, National Assembly president Christine Razanamahasoa – a prominent member of Rajoelina’s own party – made a public request for the SADC to push for a delay in the election and for pressure on Rajoelina to allow a freer process.

Such calls went unheeded. Rajoelina prevailed in a vote boycotted by the opposition and accompanied by historically low turnout.

Competing legitimacies

Though public confidence in the political system had plummeted, and frustration skyrocketed, international bodies that purport to defend democratic norms in the region welcomed Rajoelina.

Rajoelina was actively serving as chair of the SADC at the time of his removal. This was a shift from his previous status as a thorn in the organisation’s side in the 2009-2013 transition period.

The SADC refrained from criticising the flawed 2023 election and, in spite of the electoral issues, selected Rajoelina to serve as its chair.

Rajoelina’s case isn’t an exception. It illustrates a tendency in which leaders with dubious domestic credentials are welcomed internationally by supposedly democracy-promoting organisations. There’s also Zimbabwe’s Emmerson Mnangagwa, who rose to Zimbabwe’s presidency following the 2017 coup against Robert Mugabe.

Unlike Rajoelina, the SADC did not require Mnangagwa to take a sabbatical and he has retained power via flawed processes. Neither consistent allegations of electoral malpractice, nor rampant repression, deterred the regional body from selecting Mnangagwa as chair. Nor have such issues deterred the Common Market for Eastern and Southern Africa, which has selected Mnangagwa as its next chair.

Rajoelina’s ouster is the first time an SADC chair has been forced from power. If the organisation continues to endorse leaders who hold power through illegitimate means, it will not be the last.

The cost of legitimising illegitimacy

Accepting leaders with questionable democratic credentials deepens the damage on multiple fronts. Most directly, regional organisations can act as clubs of incumbents, with long-term negative consequences.

The 2023 Africa Governance Report on unconstitutional changes of government warned – in bold lettering – “instability may result if elections are not considered credible”.

Inconsistency on this front sends a clear signal to entrenched incumbents and would-be authoritarians: external validation may serve as a substitute for genuine domestic legitimacy. If leaders expect regional recognition despite their violations of constitutional order at home, they may feel they can ignore democratic norms, suppress dissent, or manipulate institutions.

But as Rajoelina’s fall from power shows, acceptance by regional and international bodies offers little protection when internal pressures finally erupt.

Beyond undermining domestic politics, such acts also undermine the credibility of regional organisations. When these same bodies later attempt to mediate political disputes or condemn unconstitutional actions, domestic audiences will be far less likely to see them as impartial or legitimate.

Recent developments in west Africa show how deeply this disillusionment can take root. Mass publics in Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger have rallied behind coup leaders while denouncing the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas).

Seen in this light, the SADC’s condemnation of the coup against Rajoelina and its decision to send a fact-finding mission will likely ring hollow to many Malagasy.

The organisation’s refusal to speak up during the 2023 electoral crisis, despite a direct appeal from the National Assembly president, exposed its reluctance to challenge incumbents. Its sudden defence of constitutional order now seems reactive rather than principled.

Until such bodies apply their standards consistently, their efforts will do little to deter future power grabs – or to restore public confidence in the regional project of democratic governance.

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. Madagascar coup: how turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies – https://theconversation.com/madagascar-coup-how-turning-a-blind-eye-to-an-unpopular-president-weakens-regional-bodies-267897

The great wildebeest migration, seen from space: satellites and AI are helping count Africa’s wildlife

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Isla C. Duporge, British–French zoologist and Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Princeton University

The Great Wildebeest Migration is one of the most remarkable natural spectacles on Earth. Each year, immense herds of wildebeest, joined by zebras and gazelles, travel 800-1,000km between Tanzania and Kenya in search of fresh grazing after the rains.

This vast, circular journey is the engine of the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem. The migration feeds predators such as lions and crocodiles, fertilises the land and sustains the grasslands. Countless other species, and human livelihoods tied to rangelands and tourism, depend on it.

Because this migration underpins the entire ecosystem, it’s vital to know how many animals are involved. A change in numbers would not only affect wildebeest, but would ripple outward to predators, vegetation and the millions of people who rely on this landscape.

For decades, aerial surveys have been the main tool for estimating the size of east Africa’s wildebeest population. Aircraft fly in straight lines (transects) a few kilometres apart and use these strips to estimate the total population. This dedicated and arduous work, using a long-established method, has given us an estimate of about 1.3 million wildebeest.

In recent years, conservation scientists have begun testing whether satellites and artificial intelligence (identifying patterns in large datasets) can offer a new way to monitor wildlife. Earlier work showed that other species – Weddell seals, beluga whales and elephants – could be identified in satellite imagery using artificial intelligence.

In 2023, we showed that migratory wildebeest could be detected from satellite images using deep learning. That study proved it’s possible to monitor large gatherings of mammals from space. The next step has been to move from simply detecting animals to estimating their populations – using satellites not just to spot them, but to count them at scale.

Our recent study was carried out through collaboration between biologists, remote sensing specialists and machine-learning scientists. We analysed satellite imagery of the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem from 2022 and 2023, covering more than 4,000km².

Using deep learning models

The images were collected at very high spatial resolution (33-60cm per pixel), with each wildebeest represented by fewer than nine pixels. We analysed the imagery using two complementary deep learning models: a pixel-based U-Net and an object-based YOLO model. Both were trained to recognise wildebeest from above. Applying them together allowed us to cross-validate detections and reduce potential bias. The images were taken at the beginning and end of August, corresponding to different stages of the dry-season migration. Smaller herds were observed earlier in the month, as expected.

Across both years, the models detected fewer than 600,000 wildebeest within the dry-season range. While these numbers are lower than some previous aerial estimates, this should not necessarily be interpreted as evidence of a population decline, and we encourage more surveying effort to work out the relative error biases in each approach. While some animals are inevitably missed, under trees or outside the imaged area, it is unlikely that such factors could account for hundreds of thousands more. To confirm that the main herds were covered, we validated the survey extent using GPS tracking data from collared wildebeest and ground-based observations from organisations monitoring herd movements in the region.

These results provide the first satellite-based dry-season census of the Serengeti-Mara migration. Rather than replacing aerial surveys, they offer a complementary perspective on seasonal population dynamics. The next step is to coordinate aerial and satellite surveys in parallel. This way each method can help refine the other and build a more complete picture of this extraordinary migration.

Future directions

Satellite monitoring is not a panacea. Images are expensive, sometimes obscured by cloud cover. And they can never capture every individual on the ground (neither can aerial surveys). But the advantages are compelling. Satellites can capture a snapshot of vast landscapes at a single moment in time, removing much of the uncertainty that comes from extrapolating localised counts.

The approach is scalable to many other species and ecosystems. And as more high-resolution satellites (capable of imaging at less than 50cm) are launched, we can now revisit the same spot on Earth multiple times a day, bringing wildlife monitoring closer to real time than ever before.

Beyond population counts, satellites also open up a new scientific frontier: the study of collective movement at scale. The wildebeest migration is a classic case of emergent behaviour: there is no leader, yet order still arises. Each animal follows simple cues like where the grass is greener or where a neighbour is moving, and together thousands create a vast, coordinated journey.

With high-resolution satellite data, scientists can now explore the basic physics that shape how animals move together in large groups. But how do density waves of movement propagate across the landscape, what scaling rules might be governing patterns of spacing and alignment, and how do these collective patterns influence the functioning of ecosystems?

Our findings demonstrate how satellites and AI can be harnessed not only for wildlife population monitoring but also for applications that extend beyond population counts to uncovering the mechanisms of collective organisation in animal groups.

The Conversation

Isla C. Duporge received funding support from the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) while leading this research. The imagery used in the project was acquired via her fellowship with NAS.

Daniel Rubenstein, David Macdonald, and Tiejun Wang 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. The great wildebeest migration, seen from space: satellites and AI are helping count Africa’s wildlife – https://theconversation.com/the-great-wildebeest-migration-seen-from-space-satellites-and-ai-are-helping-count-africas-wildlife-266308

Should Boko Haram fighters be given a second chance in society? We asked 2,000 young Nigerians

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Amélie Godefroidt, Assistant Professor in Conflict Management, IÉSEG School of Management; KU Leuven

Across the world, the question of how to deal with former fighters remains urgent. From Nigeria and Iraq to Syria and the Sahel, governments are wrestling with how to bring people who once fought for violent groups back into society. Reintegrating ex-fighters – after appropriate punishment – is unavoidable. This is because alternatives such as indefinite detention, capital punishment or abandonment are unsustainable and risk fuelling future cycles of violence.

Yet local communities often seem to resist welcoming ex-combatants back.

How, then, can societies balance the need for reintegration with local resistance?

As scholars of public opinion during and after episodes of political violence, we set out to better understand these tensions. We have years of fieldwork experience in Nigeria and other conflict-affected settings and, together with our local team, we conducted a study to assess citizens’ views on reintegration. How risky would it be to take a certain person back? And does this person deserve a second chance?

Our research was conduced in Nigeria, where Boko Haram’s insurgency has devastated communities for more than two decades. As the group has weakened and thousands of fighters have surrendered, the government has launched programmes to reintegrate them into civilian life. These initiatives have achieved limited success so far, as many citizens remain wary and resistant to their return.

We surveyed around 2,000 young Nigerians and asked them to evaluate different hypothetical profiles of former Boko Haram fighters. This allowed us to see how different characteristics shaped public preferences.

We found that respondents were more forgiving towards former fighters who were forced to join the insurgency and expressed remorse afterwards. They were less willing to reintegrate more militant and less repentant offenders.

Our findings speak to several high-level policy debates today. Nigeria continues to run reintegration programmes. While some returnees have successfully rejoined their communities, others have faced suspicion, threats, and even renewed displacement.

What we found

Three patterns stood out:

Why they joined matters.
People were far more open to reintegrating fighters who were forcibly recruited or joined as children than those who joined voluntarily – especially for ideological reasons. As one respondent put it:

Young fighters had little guidance or knowledge of what trouble they were going into.

What they do after leaving matters even more.
Former fighters who left voluntarily and took part in reconciliation efforts, especially cooperating with the police or army in their fight against Boko Haram, enjoyed much stronger public support. One respondent even went a step further, suggesting that

instead of a prison sentence, former militias should serve a period of compulsory community service rebuilding the states they have destroyed.

Some atrocities were harder to forgive.
As one participant put it:

The only precondition is that they have never taken a life. No killer deserves to be free, let alone get amnesty.

Still, our experimental results show this mattered less than one might expect: while people were reluctant to accept those who committed severe violence, the circumstances of joining and leaving weighed more heavily.

These same patterns also influenced whether people believed reintegration would succeed, and what punishments they thought appropriate. Fighters who were forced to join and left voluntarily were expected to reintegrate successfully and were more likely to be granted amnesty. Fighters seen as willing culprits who refused reconciliation were more often judged to deserve the death penalty.

Importantly, these patterns held broadly across different groups – whether respondents were Christian or Muslim, from the north or south, victims or non-victims of Boko Haram violence.

In short: willingness to forgive depended less on the violence of the past than on whether ex-fighters signalled remorse and a genuine commitment to peace today.

Why this matters

Our research suggests that reintegration and reconciliation is more likely to succeed when:

(1) Clear conditions are set. Linking reintegration to reconciliatory behaviour can reassure communities.

(2) Citizens are informed. Communication campaigns that explain how some fighters were coerced, or highlight the risks taken by those who defected, can reduce public resistance.

(3) Reconciliation is made visible. Publicising ex-fighters’ efforts to cooperate with authorities or support victims helps rebuild trust.

The lesson is simple but often overlooked: preparing societies for the return of ex-fighters is as important as preparing the fighters themselves. Without community buy-in, reintegration risks deepening divides instead of healing them.

The Conversation

Amélie Godefroidt received funding from the Research Foundation Flanders–FWO for this study.

ref. Should Boko Haram fighters be given a second chance in society? We asked 2,000 young Nigerians – https://theconversation.com/should-boko-haram-fighters-be-given-a-second-chance-in-society-we-asked-2-000-young-nigerians-266289

Raila Odinga: the man who changed Kenya without ever ruling it

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Justin Willis, Professor of History, Durham University

Raila Amollo Odinga, who has died at the age of 80, was something of a paradox in post-independence Kenyan politics.

A leader who repeatedly ran for president, he never won – in part due to the 2007 election being manipulated in favour of Mwai Kibaki. Despite this, Odinga will be remembered as a figure who profoundly shaped the country’s politics as much as any president.

The son of a famous anti-colonial leader, he was born into influence. Yet he became bitterly critical of Kenya’s enduring political and economic inequalities, speaking out on behalf of the county’s “have nots”, which earned him a place in the hearts of millions.

He was a fiercely nationalist politician who mobilised support across ethnic lines. But he was also the dominant leader of the Luo community – one of the country’s larger ethnic groups mainly based in Western Kenya – whose voters formed the core of his support.

Having self-identified as a revolutionary, Odinga later proved to be committed to institutional reform and democratisation. His greatest legacy is the 2010 constitution, which attempted to devolve power away from the “imperial presidency”, which he campaigned for over many years.

This was not the end of the contradictions. A leader who often spoke about economic development and deprivation, his agenda was typically more focused on political change. Odinga did so in part because he believed that rights and freedoms would anchor nation-building and development.

Perhaps most strikingly, although he scorned the elite power sharing deals that dominated Kenyan politics – he repeatedly made such agreements himself, often invoking the need for national stability.

Odinga embodied Kenya’s political contradictions, so the impact of his life and death will be debated. This article explores this contested legacy and what it means for Kenya’s future.

Early years

Born in western Kenya on 7 January 1945, Odinga – popularly known as Baba (father) – was the son of Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, the redoubtable community mobiliser who was a thorn in the side of the colonial state. Oginga famously insisted that he and other nationalists would make no deals with the British until Jomo Kenyatta was released.

When Kenyatta became prime minister in 1963, and later president in 1964, Oginga became Kenya’s first vice-president and minister of home affairs. However, he fell out with Kenyatta in 1966 over the government’s failure to overturn colonial inequalities. This meant that the Oginga family was excluded from the country’s powerful political elite. Oginga spent the following decades in and out of detention.

Raila Odinga spent his early years in Kenya before leaving in 1962 to study in East Germany. Returning in 1970, he became a university lecturer. Later, he joined the government standards agency – a job he lost abruptly in 1982 when he was linked to a failed coup against Daniel arap Moi. Charged with treason, he was detained until 1988, when he became active in the growing opposition to Moi’s rule. He was detained twice more during the turbulent years of protest that followed and fled briefly to Sweden.

Odinga returned before Kenya’s 1992 elections, the first multi-party polls since the 1960s, siding with his father when the opposition split. Aided by that division and state manipulation, Moi won, but Odinga’s role confirmed his status as a major political figure.

Blazing his own trail

When Oginga died in 1994, Odinga sought to take over his father’s party but, defeated, left to form his own. He ran for president in 1997, which Moi again won against a divided opposition.

When Moi did not seek re-election in 2002, it seemed Odinga’s moment had come. However, after briefly supporting Odinga as his successor Moi ultimately decided to back Uhuru Kenyatta, son of Jomo. In response, Odinga threw his weight behind Mwai Kibaki, a move which was critical to Kibaki’s victory in 2002.

Odinga’s support for Kibaki was conditional on major constitutional and political reforms. Yet where Odinga had expected widespread constitutional reforms to devolve power away from the executive, Kibaki offered limited changes. Refusing to simply prop up the administration, Odinga successfully campaigned against the government’s flawed draft constitution in the 2005 referendum.

Once again, Odinga seemed on the brink of power: he led a broad coalition into the 2007 elections on a promise of fundamental change. Early results put him ahead of Kibaki in the elections – but then Kibaki was declared the winner in a hasty process that raised widespread suspicions of malpractice and triggered Kenya’s greatest crisis, including ethnic clashes and state repression.

A power-sharing deal brought the violence to an end and made Odinga prime minister in a government of national unity. He focused his energy on political reform and constitutional changes, as well as other long standing concerns. In August 2010 a referendum approved a new constitution that devolved power to Kenya’s 47 counties. The constitution also reformed key institutions including the judiciary and electoral commission and expanded citizens’ rights.

A contested final act

The 2010 constitution remains Odinga’s signal achievement. Certainly, it created the potential for the country to forge a new and more democratic future.

Yet in its aftermath he struggled to find an equally compelling narrative. Constitutional reform had been a long-standing demand that allowed him to mobilise opposition around the promise of a new Kenya. Without this single over-arching “cause”, Odinga’s ability to sustain mass mobilisation became more fragile.

Furthermore, the progressive constitution did not prevent the continuation of older political logics. It proved no barrier against the rise to the presidency of Uhuru Kenyatta and his then deputy, William Ruto, who had faced charges of crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court.

Odinga faced increasingly difficult choices, particularly after repeated presidential defeats in 2013, 2017 and 2022 amid allegations of electoral manipulation.

These losses convinced some that he would never win the presidency – and not only because of the use of state power to deny him. That recognition, coupled with advancing age and ill health, led Odinga to make compromises once unthinkable, revealing an increasingly pragmatic reasoning in his later years. This was starkly illustrated after the 2017 elections, when – having claimed he was rigged out and led mass protests – Odinga struck the “handshake” deal with Kenyatta in March 2018. This was framed as nation-building but viewed by some as a betrayal.

The handshake led Odinga to stand as Kenyatta’s preferred candidate in the 2022 elections. This backing proved doubly damaging, however. On the one hand, it undermined Odinga’s opposition credentials and lowered turnout in his Nyanza strongholds. On the other, it meant that his loss could not be blamed on a “deep state” conspiring against him.

The difficulties that followed were magnified when, after suggesting the 2022 results had been manipulated by those around Ruto, Odinga agreed to prop up Ruto’s struggling government in March 2025. The formation of what was billed as a “broad-based” administration was presented as nation-building, but critics saw it differently. Coming after mass youth-led protests – first against tax increases and later against corruption, state repression, and Ruto’s leadership – Odinga appeared to some to side with power against the people he once represented.

Not flawless, but consequential

These turns complicate how history, and Kenyans, will remember him – not as a flawless icon, but as a deeply consequential and sometimes contradictory figure. Yet those with longer memories will also understand what led Odinga there.

Imprisoned and tortured under Moi, sold out by Kibaki, and denied victory in 2007, Odinga endured more than a lifetime’s share of misfortune and betrayal. He made his own choices, but rarely under conditions of his own making, and arguably did more than any other Kenyan to make the country’s political system more responsive to its people.

His absence will generate a political vacuum that other leaders will struggle to fill. Ruto was banking on Odinga’s support to win the 2027 elections. He will now have to work harder to put together a winning coalition. Meanwhile those leaders who coalesced around Odinga – including those who depended on him for their positions – will need to decide how they can most effectively mobilise in his absence.

As they do so, Kenya’s leaders will all be operating in his shadow, and in a context in which the country’s marginalised people and communities will feel even less represented by those in power.

The Conversation

Justin Willis has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics

Gabrielle Lynch has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics.

Karuti Kanyinga has previously received funding from East Africa Research Fund on Kenyan politics and elections.

Nic Cheeseman has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics.

ref. Raila Odinga: the man who changed Kenya without ever ruling it – https://theconversation.com/raila-odinga-the-man-who-changed-kenya-without-ever-ruling-it-267643

African languages for AI: the project that’s gathering a huge new dataset

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Vukosi Marivate, Chair of Data Science, Professor of Computer Science, Director AfriDSAI, University of Pretoria

The African Next Voices project has started out with sites in Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa. Iuliia Anisimova/iStock

Artificial intelligence (AI) tools like ChatGPT, DeepSeek, Siri or Google Assistant are developed by the global north and trained in English, Chinese or European languages. In comparison, African languages are largely missing from the internet.

A team of African computer scientists, linguists, language specialists and others have been working on precisely this problem for two years already. The African Next Voices project, primarily funded by the Gates Foundation (with other funding from Meta) and involving a network of African universities and organisations, recently released what’s thought to be the largest dataset of African languages for AI so far. We asked them about their project, with sites in Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa.


Why is language so important to AI?

Language is how we interact, ask for help, and hold meaning in community. We use it to organise complex thoughts and share ideas. It’s the medium we use to tell an AI what we want – and to judge whether it understood us.

We are seeing an upsurge of applications that rely on AI, from education to health to agriculture. These models are trained from large volumes of (mostly) linguistic (language) data. These are called large language models or LLMs but are found in only a few of the world’s languages.




Read more:
AI in Africa: 5 issues that must be tackled for digital equality


Languages also carry culture, values and local wisdom. If AI doesn’t speak our languages, it can’t reliably understand our intent, and we can’t trust or verify its answers. In short: without language, AI can’t communicate with us – and we can’t communicate with it. Building AI in our languages is therefore the only way for AI to work for people.

If we limit whose language gets modelled, we risk missing out on the majority of human cultures, history and knowledge.

Why are African languages missing and what are the consequences for AI?

The development of language is intertwined with the histories of people. Many of those who experienced colonialism and empire have seen their own languages being marginalised and not developed to the same extent as colonial languages. African languages are not as often recorded, including on the internet.

So there isn’t enough high-quality, digitised text and speech to train and evaluate robust AI models. That scarcity is the result of decades of policy choices that privilege colonial languages in schools, media and government.




Read more:
AI chatbots can boost public health in Africa – why language inclusion matters


Language data is just one of the things that’s missing. Do we have dictionaries, terminologies, glossaries? Basic tools are few and many other issues raise the cost of building datasets. These include African language keyboards, fonts, spell-checkers, tokenisers (which break text into smaller pieces so a language model can understand it), orthographic variation (differences in how words are spelled across regions), tone marking and rich dialect diversity.

The result is AI that performs poorly and sometimes unsafely: mistranslations, poor transcription, and systems that barely understand African languages.

In practice this denies many Africans access – in their own languages – to global news, educational materials, healthcare information, and the productivity gains AI can deliver.

When a language isn’t in the data, its speakers aren’t in the product, and AI cannot be safe, useful or fair for them. They end up missing the necessary language technology tools that could support service delivery. This marginalises millions of people and increases the technology divide.

What is your project doing about it – and how?

Our main objective is to collect speech data for automatic speech recognition (ASR). ASR is an important tool for languages that are largely spoken. This technology converts spoken language into written text.

The bigger ambition of our project is to explore how data for ASR is collected and how much of it is needed to create ASR tools. We aim to share our experiences across different geographic regions.

The data we collect is diverse by design: spontaneous and read speech; in various domains – everyday conversations, healthcare, financial inclusion and agriculture. We are collecting data from people of diverse ages, gender and educational backgrounds.

Every recording is collected with informed consent, fair compensation and clear data-rights terms. We transcribe with language-specific guidelines and a large range of other technical checks.

In Kenya, through Maseno Centre for Applied AI, we are collecting voice data for five languages. We’re capturing the three main language groups Nilotic (Dholuo, Maasai and Kalenjin) as well as Cushitic (Somali) and Bantu (Kikuyu).




Read more:
What do Nigerian children think about computers? Our study found out


Through Data Science Nigeria, we are collecting speech in five widely spoken languages – Bambara, Hausa, Igbo, Nigerian Pidgin and Yoruba. The dataset aims to accurately reflect authentic language use within these communities.

In South Africa, working through the Data Science for Social Impact lab and its collaborators, we have been recording seven South African languages. The aim is to reflect the country’s rich linguistic diversity: isiZulu, isiXhosa, Sesotho, Sepedi, Setswana, isiNdebele and Tshivenda.

Importantly, this work does not happen in isolation. We are building on the momentum and ideas from the Masakhane Research Foundation network, Lelapa AI, Mozilla Common Voice, EqualyzAI, and many other organisations and individuals who have been pioneering African language models, data and tooling.

Each project strengthens the others, and together they form a growing ecosystem committed to making African languages visible and usable in the age of AI.

How can this be put to use?

The data and models will be useful for captioning local-language media; voice assistants for agriculture and health; call-centre and support in the languages. The data will also be archived for cultural preservation.




Read more:
Hype and western values are shaping AI reporting in Africa: what needs to change


Larger, balanced, publicly available African language datasets will allow us to connect text and speech resources. Models will not just be experimental, but useful in chatbots, education tools and local service delivery. The opportunity is there to go beyond datasets into ecosystems of tools (spell-checkers, dictionaries, translation systems, summarisation engines) that make African languages a living presence in digital spaces.

In short, we are pairing ethically collected, high-quality speech at scale with models. The aim is for people to be able to speak naturally, be understood accurately, and access AI in the languages they live their lives in.

What happens next for the project?

This project only collected voice data for certain languages. What of the remaining languages? What of other tools like machine translation or grammar checkers?

We will continue to work on multiple languages, ensuring that we build data and models that reflect how Africans use their languages. We prioritise building smaller language models that are both energy efficient and accurate for the African context.

The challenge now is integration: making these pieces work together so that African languages are not just represented in isolated demos, but in real-world platforms.

One of the lessons from this project, and others like it, is that collecting data is only step one. What matters is making sure that the data is benchmarked, reusable, and linked to communities of practice. For us, the “next” is to ensure that the ASR benchmarks we build can connect with other ongoing African efforts.




Read more:
Does AI pose an existential risk? We asked 5 experts


We also need to ensure sustainability: that students, researchers, and innovators have continued access to compute (computer resources and processing power), training materials and licensing frameworks (Like NOODL or Esethu). The long-term vision is to enable choice: so that a farmer, a teacher, or a local business can use AI in isiZulu, Hausa, or Kikuyu, not just in English or French.

If we succeed, built-in AI in African languages won’t just be catching up. It will be setting new standards for inclusive, responsible AI worldwide.

The Conversation

Vukosi Marivate is a Co-Founder of Lelapa AI. DSFSI is funded by the Gates Foundation, Meta, Google.org, ABSA (for the ABSA UP Chair of Data Science). Vukosi is a co-founder of the Deep Learning Indaba and Masakhane Research Foundation. Vukosi is a board member of the Partnership on AI and the Council for Higher Education in South Africa.

Ife Adebara is a Co-Founder and Chief Technology Officer of EqualyzAI. She receives funding from Gates Foundation, Lacuna and the University of British Columbia and she is affiliated with Data Science Nigeria.

Lilian Wanzare receives funding from Gates Foundation. she is affiliated with Maseno University and Utavu AI Foundation. .

ref. African languages for AI: the project that’s gathering a huge new dataset – https://theconversation.com/african-languages-for-ai-the-project-thats-gathering-a-huge-new-dataset-266371

High food prices in east and southern Africa: four steps to boost production and make markets work better

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Grace Nsomba, Researcher at Centre for Competition, Regulation and Economic Development, University of Johannesburg

Countries in east and southern Africa have continued to experience high and volatile food prices despite good harvests in 2025. This is especially alarming as climate-related weather shocks will be deeper and more frequent.

Yet the region does not lack the potential to expand agriculture. Parts of the region have abundant arable land and water resources.

The G20 Food Security Task Force convened by South Africa as part of its G20 presidency has recognised the wide and persistent extent of hunger and malnutrition in most sub-regions of Africa. The task force highlighted excessive price volatility and food inflation despite sufficient global food production.

It affirmed:

the commitment to facilitate open, fair, predictable, and rules-based agriculture, food and fertiliser trade and reduce market distortions.

Evidence from the African Market Observatory, however, points to action – not words – being required. The prices for food products such as maize meal, rice and vegetable oil are very high across the region. So are those of inputs such as fertilizer.

The African Market Observatory provides market information, including prices, for key food products at the wholesale and producer levels in east and southern Africa. This data is essential in evaluating whether prices are fair and markets are working well for smaller producers and other market participants.

Countries in east and southern Africa have a combined population of over 600 million. As a whole the region is a substantial net importer of staples such as wheat, rice and vegetable oil. This despite the potential for the region to expand production.

But to expand production, countries would need to develop sustainable agro-industrial strategies. Such strategies include initiatives to improve yields, value-adding and the creation of fair regional markets. Improved water management and farming methods are essential along with investing in storage, logistics and processing.

Countries would also need to address the issue of agricultural commodity markets in the region. The variance in commodity prices across the region are evidence that markets are working very badly.

Prices vary across countries

Maize prices vary tremendously across the region, with extremely high prices in Kenya and Malawi. This should not be the case. When production from other parts of the region is taken into account, the region has more than enough maize to meet demand. There have been good rains this year after El Nino affected countries like Malawi and Zambia in 2024.

Prices in Kenya have been above US$450/tonne while prices in Zambia from April to June 2025 after the harvest were around US$200/tonne. Tanzania and Uganda have also had good harvests with prices under US$300/tonne in producing areas. Transport costs can account for around US$80/tonne of the difference, at most (less from Uganda and Tanzania).

Zambia maintained export restrictions until August, which meant farmers received low prices and the traders who bought up the harvest made windfall profits when the restrictions were lifted.

There have been similar differences in soybeans between what farmers receive and prices paid by customers. Soymeal from beans is essential for animal feed to expand poultry and fish farming to improve nutrition of low-income households.

An inquiry in 2024 by the Competition Authority of Kenya into animal feed identified obstacles in cross-border markets. The government opened up to soymeal imports from India to provide an alternative source and prices fell 20% in early 2025. Kenya is surrounded by countries that could and should be ramping up their own soybean production for expanded regional trade.

Solutions

It bears repeating, east and southern Africa is the best area in the world to expand production of crops such as maize and soybean. The expansion would mean some of the lowest instead of the highest prices internationally and lay the foundation for downstream food processing.

The G20 ministers adopted the African philosophy of ubuntu, “I am because you are”, to envision food systems which recognise interdependence across communities, borders and generations.

It means a complete change from the current situation where countries practise “beggar thy neighbour” policies such as restricting trade when a neighbour is facing drought.

Market monitoring is a crucial part of rebuilding cooperation instead of division. The G20 points to the Agricultural Market Information System, an inter-agency platform to enhance food market transparency and policy response for food security launched in 2011 by G20 Ministers of Agriculture. The platform provides data on global food supply and prices. But the platform has no data on markets in sub-Saharan African countries except South Africa and Nigeria.

Without data, countries can’t address hunger and food insecurity. As shocks become more frequent and severe, this work needs to massively accelerate.

Our analysis of market outcomes and factors influencing prices points to a straightforward set of measures.

First, regional monitoring of food markets is essential to guard against market manipulation. Monitoring needs to cover pricing, trade flows and associated barriers, and changes in market structure for a more robust understanding of markets. It is especially important in light of climate-related shocks.

Second, improved governance of food value chains to address food security and supply needs to be accompanied by enforcement of clear rules against abuse of company power that transcends national borders. Competition authorities need to be effective referees.

Third, investments in infrastructure such as storage facilities and appropriate irrigation are essential to adapt to the effects of climate change, improve resilience and yields, and safeguard against volatile markets.

Fourth, financing should be mobilised for small and medium scale producers who form the backbone of agricultural production across the region.

A critical question, of course, is about the political will to take these measures forward.

The Conversation

Grace Nsomba acknowledges funding from the Shamba Centre for Food and Climate, Open Society Foundation, COMESA Competition Commission and Competition Commission South Africa for research on food and agriculture markets.

Simon Roberts acknowedges funding from the Shamba Centre for Food and Climate, Open Society Foundation, COMESA Competition Commission and Competition Commission South Africa for research on food and agriculture markets.

ref. High food prices in east and southern Africa: four steps to boost production and make markets work better – https://theconversation.com/high-food-prices-in-east-and-southern-africa-four-steps-to-boost-production-and-make-markets-work-better-266498

Thug culture in Nigerian politics: the links between state governors, funding and violent armed groups

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Maureen Fubara, PhD candidate, University of Amsterdam

Since Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999, elections have consistently been marred by violence. The elections between 1999 and 2019 and in 2023 saw party clashes, physical attacks, assassinations and intimidation.

As Nigeria prepares for the 2027 elections, the threat of violence lurks again. Already, reports have emerged of clashes between supporters of the ruling All Progressives Congress and the opposition African Democratic Congress in northern states like Jigawa, Kogi and Kebbi.

The violence is largely carried out by hired thugs, party supporters and members, gangs and militias. But the issue is not only that politicians are willing to use violence, it is that they can afford to fund it.

My research across Lagos, Rivers, Plateau and Nasarawa States shows that the perpetrators are different across states. This difference is linked to how much funding governors control, in the form of resource rents or state fiscal allocations.

In a recently published paper based on my PhD research on the political economy of electoral violence in Nigeria, I argue that the distinction in electoral violence perpetrators is driven by governors’ financial capacity to “rent” violence. While those with access to more resource rents or state fiscal allocations hire armed groups, others rely on ordinary citizens.

In both cases, the implication is that democracy is undermined, but the organised violence of high-rent states is especially harmful because it embeds one-party dominance and long-term insecurity.




Read more:
There’s violence every election season in Nigeria: what can be done to stop it


‘Rents’ and the political marketplace

At the heart of Nigeria’s political and economic system are natural “resource rents” – public funds allocated to states by the federal government under the Federation Account. They are mostly from oil revenues and value added tax. The allocations are based on a formula that includes factors like population size, landmass, and natural resource wealth. This sharing results in uneven distribution across states. Although intended to fund development, “rents” have become a tool for politicians to finance their aspiration to stay in power.

Where governors have high rents, they engage expensive organised groups like transport unions, who in some instances are illegally armed, and cult groups to manipulate elections in their favour.

Where rents are limited, they rely on ordinary citizens, offering cash, food, or alcohol in exchange for violence.

This creates two outcomes:

  • in high-rent states (Lagos and Rivers), incumbents can sustain long-term alliances with armed groups

  • in low-rent states (Nasarawa and Plateau), violence is carried out by ordinary citizens in the form of party and ethnic supporters.




Read more:
Vote buying is a big problem in Kenya. How to curb it before the 2022 elections


Why this matters for democracy

Not all violence perpetrators are the same. Armed groups are organised, feared, and able to systematically intimidate and harm voters. Their alliances with ruling parties go beyond elections. They spill into extortion in the transport sector, oil bunkering, piracy and crime.

In Lagos, much of the election violence is linked to the National Union of Road Transport Workers. This is a powerful trade union with close ties to the ruling All Progressives Congress. During elections, street touts known as agberos, who are affiliated with the union, perpetrate violence on behalf of the ruling party. In return, they receive payments from commercial bus drivers and maintain control over parts of Lagos’s lucrative public transport system.

For instance, during Nigeria’s 2023 elections, some voters in Lagos, especially those from minority ethnic groups, reported being attacked or threatened by members of the National Union of Road Transport Workers. These incidents were allegedly aimed at pressuring them to vote for the All Progressives Congress. The group’s strong influence in the transport sector gives it unrivalled access to neighbourhoods, making violence both effective and difficult to resist.

Similarly, in Rivers, cult groups such as the Icelanders and Deewell have become political instruments.

Financed with millions of naira, sometimes even equipped with sophisticated weapons, armed groups are deployed to silence rivals and scare voters. Their reputations for violence mean that just the rumour of their presence can keep voters at home.

In “low-rent” states, perpetrators of violence look different. To recruit citizens for election violence in Nasarawa State, politicians often offer as little as ₦5,000 (about US$4), well below Nigeria’s minimum monthly wage of ₦70,000 ($47). They also compensate them with alcohol or hard drugs. Similarly, in Plateau State, north central Nigeria, unemployed young people are promised small cash rewards, sometimes alongside drugs, to disrupt rival rallies or attack opposition neighbourhoods.




Read more:
They Eat Our Sweat – new book exposes daily struggles of transport workers in Lagos


‘Rents’ and one-party dominance

The risk of “renting” violence is that it becomes self-sustaining. Governors splurge resources on armed groups while granting them access to lucrative criminal markets such as oil bunkering (crude oil theft).

These alliances secure ruling parties’ dominance across elections. In Lagos and Rivers, violence has become a permanent feature of politics, not a temporary campaign strategy.

In Nasarawa and Plateau, violence is cheaper and ad hoc. Citizens involved in violence return to farming, hustling or unemployment once elections end. Competition remains more open, but insecurity at the polls still undermines elections.




Read more:
New book reveals what drives election rigging – and when citizens resist it


Why 2027 may not be different

There are warning signs that the 2027 elections are likely to be violent. There have been incidents of attacks and intimidation in several states. Governors with high “rents” are likely to strengthen ties with armed groups, given the prevalent impunity in Nigeria’s political space.

In previous elections, Human Rights Watch flagged the lack of accountability for political violence. Politicians have no reason to stop when the risks are low and the rewards, such as political, economic and social power, are so high.

Since many Nigerians have low trust in the government and democratic institutions, another violent election risks pushing citizens further away from the polling units and closer to apathy. When voters expect violence, many will stay at home, leaving elections to be decided not by choice but by violence.

Next steps

Nigeria is not unique; other resource-rich countries like Tanzania also struggle with electoral violence.

Breaking the cycle requires more than election monitoring. It demands fiscal reforms that limit governors’ control over rents, and institutions strong enough to prosecute sponsors and perpetrators of violence.

Nigerians deserve elections where voters’ choices, not violence, decide winners.

The Conversation

Maureen Fubara receives funding from the European Research Council (ERC) Starting Grant #852439..

ref. Thug culture in Nigerian politics: the links between state governors, funding and violent armed groups – https://theconversation.com/thug-culture-in-nigerian-politics-the-links-between-state-governors-funding-and-violent-armed-groups-265695

Fruit juices in South Africa are getting a free ride: why they should have the same health warning labels as fizzy drinks

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Siphiwe Dlamini, Lecturer, Department of Physiology, University of the Witwatersrand

South Africa is facing a sharp rise in obesity-related diseases like type 2 diabetes. Between 2010 and 2019, the prevalence of diabetes nearly tripled from 4.5% to 12.7%. This increase is linked to lifestyle risk factors including drinking sugary beverages, eating unhealthy foods, and not getting enough physical activity.

To help tackle the problem, the government has introduced several public health measures targeting key risk factors, including unhealthy eating.

One of the most prominent measures was the introduction of a tax on sugar-sweetened beverages in 2018. The tax targets added sugars, encouraging manufacturers to reformulate products like soft drinks and energy drinks to reduce their sugar content. But beverages containing naturally occurring sugars, such as 100% fruit juices, are exempt.

Often, 100% fruit juices are seen as healthier alternatives to sugar-sweetened or artificially sweetened drinks. But growing research shows this may not be true. A 2023 meta-analysis of 72 published studies involving over 3 million people found that drinking fruit juice does not lower the risk of type 2 diabetes or high blood pressure. It was instead linked to a higher risk of dying from cardiovascular diseases.

The recommendation from that meta-analysis and other studies is that fruit juices should not be considered a healthier alternative to sugar-sweetened beverages. This could be because, although fruit juices contain more vitamins and minerals than soft drinks, they are also high in natural sugars and lack the fibre found in whole fruits, which helps control blood sugar and keeps you feeling full.

In a further move to curb sugar intake in beverages the government has proposed new food labelling regulations. These would require front-of-package warning labels for products high in added sugar, saturated fat, sodium, or artificial sweeteners. The regulations are still under review. But they align with international best practices adopted by countries like Chile, Mexico and Brazil.

If implemented effectively, they could help South African consumers make more informed dietary choices.

But, once again, fruit juices are getting a free ride. This is even though they have the highest energy (calories) and sugar content (8.4%) across a range of soft and energy drinks, according to our recent study.

As researchers in public health nutrition, we are concerned that the regulations had some important gaps. The proposed regulations introduce a simple package warning label system for prepacked foods that contain added sugar, saturated fat, or sodium and exceed specific nutrient thresholds. It also requires warning labels for products containing artificial sweeteners, reflecting growing concerns about their long-term health effects.

But the regulations exclude certain sugar-containing beverages from front-of-pack warning label requirements, particularly those with naturally occurring sugars. Many juices, such as 100% fruit juices, are exempt despite their high sugar content and significant contribution to overall sugar and energy intake. This raises concerns about the consistency of the policy and whether it adequately addresses the health risks associated with excessive sugar consumption across all types of beverages.

To test the scale of the problem, we analysed over 600 non-alcoholic beverages sold in major South African supermarkets. The study found that 21.4% of beverages would require a warning for high sugar, 49.8% for artificial sweeteners, and 58.7% for at least one of these criteria.

Juices were least likely to qualify for warning labels. Only 30% of juices met the criteria , versus 94.1% of soft drinks and 96.9% of energy drinks. Excluding 100% fruit juices from South Africa’s proposed warning label regulations could have serious public health consequences.

We recommend that the health department revise the criteria for warning labels to include beverages that are high in naturally occurring sugars.

Fruit juices

Fruit juices are often seen as a healthier choice because of their natural origin. In South Africa, regular consumption of 100% fruit juice is common, with many consumers perceiving it as beneficial despite its high sugar content.

This is a problem for a number of reasons.

Because of their high sugar content, fruit juices can cause sharp spikes in blood glucose. For more than 2.3 million South Africans living with diabetes regular consumption may interfere with blood glucose control. But this is not only a concern for people with diabetes. Research shows that even among non-diabetics, frequent intake of fruit juice increases weight gain, and the risk of developing type 2 diabetes over time.

Labelling policies that ignore naturally occurring sugars risks misleading consumers. In particular, it misleads those trying to make healthier choices into over-consuming these products. International examples, such as Chile’s approach to food labelling, show that including total sugar content in warning criteria can reduce purchases of high-sugar items and improve public awareness.

Exempting juices also creates an uneven playing field. While soft drink and energy drink manufacturers are pushed to reformulate products to avoid taxes and warning labels, juice producers face no such pressure, despite offering products with comparable health risks.

We also demonstrated that nearly half of the beverages analysed contained artificial sweeteners, which are increasingly used to lower sugar content and bypass the sugar tax. Emerging research suggests these additives may negatively affect gut health and contribute to nutrition-related diseases. Taken together, these factors highlight the need for comprehensive regulation that reflects the full spectrum of health risks posed by sugary beverages.

Next steps

South Africa’s efforts to regulate sugary beverages are commendable and reflect a growing commitment to tackling lifestyle-related diseases. But excluding fruit juices from key policies risks undermining these efforts.

By aligning regulations with scientific evidence and international best practices, the country can take a more comprehensive approach to sugar reduction. This approach will protect all consumers, especially the most vulnerable.

To ensure that South Africa’s food labelling regulations achieve their intended public health outcomes, we recommend the following steps.

  • Include naturally occurring sugars: Revise the criteria for warning labels to account for total sugar content, not just added sugars. This would ensure that high-sugar juices are appropriately labelled, and consumers are fully informed.

  • Extend the sugar tax: Consider applying the sugar tax to fruit juices with high sugar content. This would encourage manufacturers to explore lower-sugar formulations.

  • Public education campaigns: Launch targeted education initiatives to raise awareness about the health risks associated with all types of sugar, including those found in fruit juices.

  • Ongoing monitoring: Establish systems to monitor the impact of both labelling and taxation policies on consumer behaviour and health outcomes, allowing for evidence-based adjustments over time.

The Conversation

Siphiwe Dlamini receives funding from the National Research Foundation.

ref. Fruit juices in South Africa are getting a free ride: why they should have the same health warning labels as fizzy drinks – https://theconversation.com/fruit-juices-in-south-africa-are-getting-a-free-ride-why-they-should-have-the-same-health-warning-labels-as-fizzy-drinks-266307

Rape within marriage is still silenced in South Africa – why women are being failed

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Nyasha Karimakwenda, Associate Research Scientist, Wellesley College

Sexual violence in marriages is a very real issue in South Africa, but remains shrouded in silence and denial. It’s a subject that Nyasha Karimakwenda has researched for many years in various forms, from traditional practices to court judgments. We asked her to outline the issues.


What is marital rape and why should we pay more attention to it?

Though marriage rates in southern Africa have decreased over the past decades, marriage is still considered to be an ideal social tool for formalising relationships and building families.

But it’s also an environment where spouses can be exposed to different kinds of abuse. This includes sexual abuse by their partners.

Marital rape is the term commonly used to refer to sexual violence by a partner in a marriage or former marriage. It’s a significant problem globally and is mostly committed by husbands against wives.

It’s critical that we learn more about marital rape because it’s a feature of many women’s lives. And it’s not uncommon for it to happen alongside other kinds of violence in marriages. These can include emotional, verbal, economic and physical harms.

Why is there so much silence around marital rape?

Many cultures and legal systems around the world have supported the position that sexual violence committed by husbands against wives is not morally wrong. Or that it’s an issue that should remain within the family.

Historically, for example, Commonwealth countries inherited the marital rape exemption from England. This established that husbands could not be held criminally liable for raping their wives. Some African countries – such as Kenya, Uganda and Nigeria – still retain versions of this exemption and marital rape is not a criminal offence there.

Added to this are existing patriarchal cultural norms across the continent that reinforce the idea that husbands are entitled to sex with their wives, whether the wife says no or not.




Read more:
It’s still legal to rape your wife in India. That could be about to change


It’s only in recent decades that countries around the world started to change their criminal laws to allow for rape in marriage to be prosecuted. But there is still a lot of progress needed to make sure that both laws and cultures fully recognise the existence and harm of marital rape.

In South Africa marital rape was made a crime in 1993. Even so, as my doctoral research shows, marital rape continues to be silenced because of social and cultural perspectives.




Read more:
Rape is still rape even if you’re married – report finds some South African men don’t believe it is


I learned that among some communities the belief that marriage gives husbands unlimited sexual access to their wives remains strong. Under this thinking, husbands cannot rape their wives, because they have ownership of their wives’ bodies.

My research, along with the work of other scholars, also captures how women are socialised to accept that their bodies are no longer their own once they marry. So they suffer the sexual abuse in silence.

What is ukuthwala and what’s its connection to marital rape?

The term ukuthwala has various meanings in South Africa’s dominant Nguni languages. In the context of marriage, it describes particular customary practices used to make a marriage happen quickly, and often with less expense in poorer communities.

These practices exist across South Africa, but are mostly documented among the Xhosa and Zulu people. Historically, ukuthwala has also been practised in different forms. Some forms of ukuthwala are more like elopement. Other forms are extremely violent, where a girl is abducted by a group of men, beaten, raped and forced to marry a man typically much older than her and a stranger.




Read more:
Rethinking ukuthwala, the South African ‘bride abduction’ custom


Examining violent ukuthwala is another way to understand how marital rape is condoned. A growing body of ukuthwala research, including my own, shows how, for generations, some families and communities have used the custom and rape to control unwilling brides and transform their social status from girl to wife.

Gradually, more research is showing how certain communities don’t view the sexual force in ukuthwala as rape, but see it as an acceptable means for creating and maintaining a marriage – a part of custom.

What happens when women turn to South Africa’s courts?

Because of the cultural misunderstandings of marital rape, wives face significant hurdles in getting their case moved along from police to prosecutors to trial before a judge. Participants in my marital rape research expressed how police sometimes mock wives seeking help. They believe it’s not possible for a husband to rape a wife and maintain that criminal punishment is not appropriate.

Prosecutors also have problematic views about marital rape. A 2017 rape attrition study by the South African Medical Research Council found that prosecutors were reluctant to refer intimate partner rapes, including marital rapes, for trial.




Read more:
Rape in South Africa: why the system is failing women


We need more research about how marital rape is treated by the courts. But there’s evidence of similar thinking held by judges. In a few appeals cases that I analysed, judges affirmed husbands’ rape convictions but handed down lesser sentences because of the marital relationships. This minimises a wife’s pain and the seriousness of marital rape.

How does South Africa best address the problem?

My research emphasises that marital rape survivors need specialised, empathic and personalised assistance. Society can start by listening and being kind to women who divulge their pain.

I’ve found that women’s community-based organisations like Masimanyane and Mosaic are critical for providing non-judgmental and culturally-aware spaces for women seeking support when facing violence.

Awareness raising and education at national and local levels is vital to dismantle the longstanding idea that husbands are entitled to sex in marriage. This is also critical for wives to understand their rights to wellbeing and sexual autonomy.

Lastly, civil servants that survivors engage with – medical professionals, police, prosecutors, judges – must be properly sensitised to the unique circumstances of marital rape survivors. There should be greater oversight of their professional conduct.

The Conversation

Nyasha Karimakwenda 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. Rape within marriage is still silenced in South Africa – why women are being failed – https://theconversation.com/rape-within-marriage-is-still-silenced-in-south-africa-why-women-are-being-failed-260856

Nigeria’s Boko Haram rehabilitation efforts ignore the emotional trauma of soldiers: why this matters

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Celestina Atom, Postgraduate Researcher and Part-time Lecturer in Politics and International Relations., Teesside University

Since 2009, Boko Haram has waged one of the deadliest insurgencies in Africa. Concentrated in north-east Nigeria and the Lake Chad Basin, the group has killed more than 35,000 people and displaced at least 2.5 million.

Its attacks on schools, markets, religious centres, and entire villages have torn at the fabric of Nigerian society, creating not only a humanitarian emergency but also a profound crisis of trust and cohesion.

In 2016, Nigeria launched Operation Safe Corridor, a state-run initiative for low-risk former Boko Haram and Islamic State West Africa Province members who have surrendered or been captured.

The programme involves various ministries, departments and agencies of the Nigerian government, alongside the armed forces and other security institutions. It is coordinated by the Office of the Chief of Defence Staff and receives both technical and partial financial support from non-state partners such as the Centre for Democracy and Development, a Nigerian NGO. Its core mandate is to help rehabilitate ex-combatants and reintegrate them into society.

Participants undergo a six to 12-month rehabilitation process. This includes psychological counselling, religious reorientation, civic education, literacy classes and vocational training. As of 2025, the programme has processed over 2,000 ex-combatants. Around 789 participants were still in rehabilitation in February.

The logic of the programme is simple: peace cannot be won by force alone. Nigeria must offer pathways out for those willing to abandon violence.

Despite its ambitious design, few studies have evaluated the outcomes of Operation Safe Corridor beyond community perceptions. There is limited evidence on long-term indicators such as employment stability, psychological recovery, family reintegration and reduced recidivism. Other measures such as economic independence, social cohesion and follow-up support also remain underexplored. This gap raises questions about the programme’s effectivenes and sustainability.

On paper, the programme looks promising. Public ceremonies, such as the mass oath-taking of nearly 600 former fighters in March and another 390 in April 2025, have been highly publicised. But Operation Safe Corridor remains deeply controversial.

Victims and affected communities accuse the government of prioritising perpetrators over survivors. Others doubt the sincerity of those passing through the programme. They cite the risk of ex-fighters rejoining the group if their needs are not met, or acting as spies.

The focus has been on public perception, victims and community members. The perspectives of the soldiers responsible for carrying out these initiatives have received far less attention in both research and policy discussions. My recent study drew on in-depth, face to face interviews with eight soldiers and other security personnel. It examines their perceptions and lived experiences of the Operation Safe Corridor programme.

These soldiers now find themselves responsible for rehabilitating the very people they have long fought against. Their perspectives expose an underappreciated dimension of peacebuilding: the emotional labour of those asked to facilitate reconciliation.

Betrayal on three fronts

The soldiers’ testimonies reveal recurring feelings of betrayal – by the state, by colleagues, and by the communities they are meant to protect.

They described how soldiers fighting the insurgents had been neglected by the state. Despite Nigeria’s rising defence budget, frontline troops reported poor welfare, inadequate equipment, and delayed salaries. Many saw the government as channelling resources into high-profile rehabilitation schemes while neglecting the needs of soldiers.

They also spoke of soldiers who, due to institutional neglect and financial strain, had leaked sensitive information to Boko Haram. Such betrayals are devastating in a conflict that depends on trust and cohesion.

Soldiers in our study also spoke of incidents where villagers shielded insurgents, misdirected patrols, or remained silent under coercion. While many civilians acted out of fear or kinship ties, soldiers interpreted such actions as complicity. For them, the distinction between victims and perpetrators often blurred, leaving them isolated in a morally ambiguous terrain.

Between scepticism and redemption

These experiences of betrayal fuel deep scepticism about Operation Safe Corridor’s effectiveness. Much like community members, many soldiers doubt the sincerity of ex-combatants’ repentance. They suspect that hunger, dwindling supplies, or factional infighting – not moral transformation – drive surrender. Some fear that the programme may serve as a way for insurgents to regroup before rejoining the fight.

Yet glimpses of hope emerge. Soldiers described moments when ex-combatants provided actionable intelligence that disrupted Boko Haram operations, saving lives and reducing violence. Others witnessed genuine remorse among participants.

This tension between betrayal and redemption captures the psychological complexity of implementing deradicalisation. For some soldiers, supporting reintegration becomes a way to reclaim a sense of moral purpose amid the chaos of war. For others, it remains a bitter pill.

Why soldiers’ perspectives matter

Soldiers are not neutral functionaries; they are emotionally invested actors whose wellbeing and outlook directly shape programme outcomes.

Neglecting their perspectives risks undermining peacebuilding. When soldiers feel unsupported, cynicism festers. When they doubt the sincerity of reintegration, they may disengage or resist. Conversely, their fragile optimism can sustain long-term commitment to peace.

Deradicalisation, rehabilitation and reintegration programmes in Sierra Leone, Colombia and Uganda have shown similar dynamics: practitioners carry heavy emotional burdens, often without adequate support. The United Nations has acknowledged this, urging that staff welfare and psychosocial needs be met. Nigeria’s experience reinforces this lesson.

Towards a more holistic peace

What does this mean for policy? My study suggests three key steps.

  1. Support the supporters. Deradicalisation, rehabilitation and reintegration staff, especially soldiers, need structured psychosocial support. This includes counselling, trauma debriefing, and safe spaces to reflect on moral dilemmas, with feedback mechanisms to share their experiences and perspectives.

  2. Reform welfare and recognition systems. Timely salaries, leave policies, and acknowledgement of frontline sacrifices are not luxuries. They are essential for sustaining morale and countering perceptions of institutional betrayal.

  3. Strengthen monitoring and community engagement. To address fears of recidivism and community resentment, reintegration must include follow-up and victim support.

An imperfect yet necessary step

Operation Safe Corridor has clear shortcomings, from weak transparency to limited attention to victims, but abandoning it would mean reverting to military solutions that have already failed. Soldiers’ testimonies show that reintegration is not hopeless, only incomplete.

Peace depends on rebuilding trust: between the state and soldiers, soldiers and communities, and communities and ex-combatants. Nigeria’s soldiers are guardians of peace, yet many feel betrayed. Acknowledging their experiences is essential, for reintegration is not only about transforming fighters but also supporting those guiding them back.

The Conversation

Celestina Atom 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 Boko Haram rehabilitation efforts ignore the emotional trauma of soldiers: why this matters – https://theconversation.com/nigerias-boko-haram-rehabilitation-efforts-ignore-the-emotional-trauma-of-soldiers-why-this-matters-267023