Category: The Conversation – Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Luisa T. Schneider, Assistant Professor, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam; Independent Social Research Foundation

In the decades after Sierra Leone’s civil war (1991-2002), there was pressure on the west African country to demonstrate progress on gender equality. Laws were passed to fight domestic violence, rape and teen pregnancy. But drawing on colonial legal models, the reforms don’t always match social realities and in many cases are harming young people from poor communities. Punishment is being made more important than resolution or education.

Luisa T. Schneider is an anthropologist who has spent a decade researching the subject. We asked her about her open source book Love and Violence in Sierra Leone: Mediating Intimacy after Conflict.

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What did your study involve?

My research began in Freetown in 2012, ten years after the civil war’s violence, especially against women and girls. In 2016 I began living in a hillside community in eastern Freetown and also with a group of young men downtown. For 13 months I studied intimate relationships and followed disputes from household quarrels to community mediations and court cases, tracing over 100 through the magistrate’s court. I also spent time in Central Prison, interviewing men and boys convicted in “women cases”.

I wanted to know how love and violence intersect in everyday life and how law reshapes both.

What did you find?

In Sierra Leone, gender and relationships lie at the heart of moral life. Care, warmth and resilience are virtues held in high regard, and they are cultivated and learnt from women. But this masks the widespread abuse of women and places the unpaid labour of holding families and communities together on them. When the state tries to regulate intimacy without considering these moral realities, it deepens the very violence it seeks to end.

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Read more:
Why Sierra Leonean women don’t feel protected by domestic violence laws

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Love and violence often live together, tangled in ways that make harm hard to end. People say that when harm occurs, judgment falls not only on the act but on the person’s character. Communities call for state involvement in cases of rape against minors or severe violence. But everyday conflicts in consensual relationships are generally understood as matters of character and relational repair rather than criminal intent. They are mediated internally, often by women who bear the burden to prioritise group stability over punishment.

Yet, the country’s legal system often tells a different story.

After the war, new laws were introduced to protect women and girls from rape, early pregnancy, and domestic violence. Key laws include:

• Sexual Offences Act (2012; amended 2019): criminalises rape, sexual assault and sexual exploitation; raises age of consent to 18; mandatory sentences; zero-tolerance enforcement reshapes policing of adolescent sexuality and youth relationships.

• Domestic Violence Act (2007): criminalises physical, sexual, emotional and economic abuse within intimate and family relationships; recognises private-sphere violence as a public concern.

• Child Rights Act (2007; revised 2025): defines children as rights-bearing subjects entitled to care, protection and due process, aligned with international standards.

• Prevention of Child Marriage Act (2024): prohibits marriage under 18 to end early marriage and related health and educational harms.

• Diversion and Alternatives to Detention Framework (2025): redirects children in conflict with the law from imprisonment to rehabilitation, mediation and reintegration.

Together, these reforms are meant to protect. But I found they also collapse care, consent and harm into a single criminal framework that misfits the lived realities of the Sierra Leoneans I lived and worked with. Importantly, mine is not an argument against protecting children from sexual harm, but about how protection is defined and enforced.

Although recent reforms frame children as having rights and promote alternatives to detention, boys charged under sexual offences law are routinely denied bail and treated as adult perpetrators. This reveals a contradiction in the system. It conflates rape, harm and consensual adolescent intimacy into a single category of criminality.

By raising the age of consent to 18, many ordinary youth relationships became criminalised. A 19-year-old can now face years in prison because his girlfriend is 17, even though she has chosen to love him. In aiming for zero tolerance, the state has policed intimacy instead of teaching consent.

In a society battling poverty and corruption, the new laws often shield the wealthy and punish the powerless. Young couples, especially across class lines, can be convicted, while powerful older men who abuse children can walk free.

One High Court judge told me:

We have serious problems with rape in this country. But of 25 or maybe 30 cases … mostly there are boyfriends here, you know, lovers. Maybe almost 23 of them are lovers. But the law is so rigid that I have to convict no matter the circumstance.

The updated Sexual Offences Act has deepened fear. It lowered the age of criminal responsibility to 12; sexual cases are now sent directly to the High Court; and life sentences are allowed.

Convictions happen even when girls testify that they love the boy or man who stands accused and confirm consensual sex took place. Many of the cases I studied are initiated by parents, neighbours, or teachers. This was often after pregnancies, school conflicts, or community disputes made relationships visible. Often the relationship happened within unequal social conditions between the partners.

In my view, what communities seek to mend through care, the law isolates and punishes. Conversations about consent, safety and protection disappear when love itself risks imprisonment. Women in violent relationships, meanwhile, lose attention and resources as the system turns to criminalising consensual intimacy.

What does this say about gender and justice?

Sierra Leoneans believe a good man is made not by punishment but by being raised with respect, love and care for others. As a community elder put it:

A child taught to kill becomes cruel. A child taught to love protects everyone.

Yet laws carry war’s legacy in their effort to discipline masculinity instead of guiding it.

What do you hope readers take away from your book?

Sierra Leone’s moral vision, found in everyday speech, mediation practices and women’s community leadership, reminds us that femininity is not weakness but wisdom. And that any just system must build on that strength.

If women were actually treated as they are morally regarded in Freetown – as strong, capable and central to social wellbeing – then both patriarchy and violence would begin to lose their hold. Ending violence begins in the home, in everyday care, and in the way we raise our children.

This isn’t just about Sierra Leone. It matters the world over. Law alone cannot end violence. Laws can punish, but they cannot teach care, consent or empathy. Yet punishment increasingly replaces education.

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Read more:
We used performing arts to map out gender violence in Sierra Leone. What we found

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The lesson is clear: without engaging local understandings of care, consent and responsibility, laws meant to protect risk reproducing harm rather than preventing it.

Luisa T. Schneider receives funding from the Dutch Network of Women Professors, Oxford University, the Studienstiftung des deutschen Volkes and the Royal Anthropological Institute.

I am assistant professor in Anthropology at Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam and a Research Partner at the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology in Halle (Saale)

– ref. Sierra Leone’s harsh new laws to protect women and girls are causing harm in the wrong places – https://theconversation.com/sierra-leones-harsh-new-laws-to-protect-women-and-girls-are-causing-harm-in-the-wrong-places-269662

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Tinashe Sithole, Postdoctoral research fellow at the SARChI Chair: African Diplomacy and Foreign Policy, University of Johannesburg

Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, South Africa’s foreign policy has been under sustained international scrutiny.

Its stance on the war in Ukraine has been one of active non-alignment. This means it has called for negotiations while abstaining from UN resolutions condemning Russia. However, it decided to take Israel to the International Court of Justice over the Gaza conflict in December 2023.

To many observers, including US policymakers and international analysts, these decisions suggest uncertainty or inconsistency. However, a closer look suggests a different interpretation.

In my recent research, I show how South Africa’s negotiated transition to democracy has shaped a foreign policy tradition that prioritises mediation, multilateralism and non-alignment.

I argue that South Africa’s foreign policy since 1994, including the period after the 2024 election, has been shaped by more than political shifts.

Instead, its negotiated democratic transition experience continues to guide how the country understands conflict and cooperation. This is even as the costs of maintaining this approach rise in a more fragmented and competitive global order. I describe this trajectory as “idealism under strain” – a principle-based foreign policy maintained under growing external pressure.

As a middle power, South Africa exerts influence most effectively through international institutions. By working through the African Union (AU), the Southern African Development Community (SADC) and the UN, it helps broker agreements and shape regional and global agendas.

What has changed is the international environment. Global politics has become more polarised and more transactional. States are increasingly expected to take clear sides on major issues, from security alignments to trade relations. This shift has narrowed the space for diplomatic independence.

In this context, South Africa’s preference for dialogue and institutional process has become harder to sustain and easier to misinterpret. Positions that once appeared principled are now criticised as evasive or contradictory.

This matters because South Africa’s influence depends less on power and more on trust.

To remain effective, it needs to continue leading regional mediation and peace efforts and to apply its principles consistently. When its positions on international law or human rights appear selective, its credibility weakens. When they are consistent, its voice carries more weight.

Behind the choices

South Africa’s post-apartheid foreign policy reflects the negotiated nature of its democratic transition. The end of apartheid in 1994 came through compromise rather than a military victory. This experience shaped a preference for mediation over coercion; for dialogue over exclusion.

These preferences shaped the country’s early diplomatic engagements on the continent. In Burundi (1999-2003), the Democratic Republic of Congo (2002-2003) and Lesotho (1998 and again from 2014 to 2017), South Africa promoted negotiated political settlements and power-sharing arrangements rather than military solutions.

This history helps explain current policy choices, including the call for negotiations on Ukraine.

It also explains the contrast in how the country engages across crises. For example, in 2023 it brought the case against Israel at the International Court of Justice. In other situations, such as political tensions in Zimbabwe, it has relied on quiet diplomacy, working behind the scenes rather than openly criticising the government.

In my view, these decisions reflect an adaptation to constraint rather than inconsistency.

This pattern has persisted across administrations. Successive governments have sought to balance democratic values with geopolitical realities rather than abandon one in favour of the other.

What has changed is the level of external pressure under which this balance must now be maintained.

A changing world

A more polarised and transactional world has narrowed the space for diplomatic independence.

Pressure from the US to align with the west has become more explicit, particularly following the South Africa vs Israel case.

Tensions have also affected the trade relationship. In Washington, some lawmakers called for a review of South Africa’s eligibility for the African Growth and Opportunity Act (Agoa). The legislation provides duty-free access to the US market. The criticism reflected concerns that South Africa’s positions on Russia and Israel, and its broader stance of non-alignment, were increasingly seen as out of step with US foreign policy priorities.

South Africa’s Agoa benefits expired in September 2025 and were only renewed on 3 February 2026. The months of uncertainty highlighted the economic risks that can accompany geopolitical pressure.

For a country whose influence depends more on diplomacy and external partnerships, such signals matter. They show how the costs of maintaining diplomatic independence are rising in a more competitive international environment.

What needs to happen next

South Africa is unlikely to abandon its preference for mediation, multilateralism and non-alignment. The key challenge is how it sustains this approach as international pressure intensifies.

First, South Africa needs to use the institutions where it already has influence more actively. This means taking visible leadership roles in the AU and SADC, and continuing its involvement in UN peace missions. These platforms are the main channels through which the country exercises diplomatic influence.

Second, regional cooperation needs to result in coordinated action. Conflicts in places such as Mozambique or eastern Democratic Republic of Congo affect neighbouring states and cannot be managed by one country alone. Working with regional partners on joint mediation and shared responses helps avoid fragmented or competing interventions.

Third, consistency matters. When South Africa calls for international law, negotiated settlements or civilian protection, the same principles should guide its positions across different conflicts. Applying these standards evenly reduces accusations of selectivity and helps preserve trust in its role.

These priorities do not require a new foreign policy. They reflect the need to apply an existing approach more clearly and more consistently.

Tinashe Sithole 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 foreign policy is rooted in negotiation with all nations – a shifting global order makes this difficult – https://theconversation.com/south-africas-foreign-policy-is-rooted-in-negotiation-with-all-nations-a-shifting-global-order-makes-this-difficult-275033

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Barney Walsh, Senior Lecturer in Security, Leadership and Development Education, King’s College London

Uganda’s Kizza Besigye has been described as possibly the most arrested man in Africa. Besigye was once President Yoweri Museveni’s ally, and personal physician. He broke ranks with Museveni in 1999, and emerged as the most long-standing political opponent to the ageing president, who has run the country since 1986. For this, Besigye has been jailed, kept under house arrest, renditioned, forced into exile, and endured state violence countless times. He has been in jail since 2024. Barney Walsh and Dennis Jjuuko have studied Besigye’s remarkable political career.

Who is Kizza Besigye?

Kizza Besigye was born in Rukungiri district, south-western Uganda, in April 1956. After graduating with a degree in human medicine from Makerere University in 1980, he joined the National Resistance Army (NRA) rebellion, which dislodged the dictatorial rule of President Milton Obote in 1986.

Besigye served in different senior positions in Museveni’s new government, including minister of state for internal affairs and the president’s office. In 1993, he was appointed the army’s chief of logistics and engineering and later senior military adviser to the defence minister. He was part of the inner sanctum of the National Resistance Movement which became the civilian government.

Besigye remained close to Museveni until 1999, when he abandoned the ruling party. He said the movement had departed from its original principles, like democracy through free elections, security for all and eliminating corruption.

He believed Uganda needed liberation again, this time from a government he’d helped establish. This would define his life’s work.

Under the pressure group “Reform Agenda”, and later the political party Forum for Democratic Change, he was the leading contender against Museveni in successive presidential polls. He scored 27% of the vote in 2001, 37% in 2006, 26% in 2011, and 35% in 2016. The Ugandan supreme court acknowledged irregularities but refused to overturn the result in 2006.

After leaving the government, Besigye became the focal point for Ugandans wary of Museveni’s increasingly vicious authoritarianism. He was forced to flee to South Africa after the 2001 presidential elections. He has been brutalised, detained and charged numerous times. His younger brother died in 2007 from illness associated with incarceration on trumped-up conspiracy charges.

When the opposition one day take the reins of power in Uganda, the debt it owes Besigye will be immense.

What are the highlights of this legacy?

Besigye, 69, stands out as the foremost opposition figure who was part of Museveni’s original Bush War victory. His 2011 “walk to work” protests, in response to dramatic fuel prices and general inflation, will not be forgotten in the history of Uganda’s political economy.

Besigye seemed to think this civil action could be Uganda’s “Arab Spring” moment. Some mocked his efforts as a mis-reading of the socio-economic conditions in sub-Saharan Africa.

The protests were, indeed, subdued in the face of brutal repression by security agencies.

But similar protests would soon remove Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe in 2017 and Blaise Compaoré in Burkina Faso in 2014.

Besigye has developed credibility as someone trustworthy because of what he has been through. And he has a heartfelt connection with supporters.

His leadership has transcended other opposition figures during Museveni’s administration in terms of longevity and consistent vision for change. Other opposition leaders have emerged only fleetingly, failing to sustain any moral standing or coherent transformative vision.

As we argue in our recent paper, it is unclear whether opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi (better known as Bobi Wine) could have emerged without Besigye laying the foundation and sustaining the momentum for change.

It’s important, too, to recognise his failings.

He is given to outbursts. His call for Chinese debts to be written off as odious was thought to alienate an essential development partner. His storming of what he described as a “rigging centre” during the 2016 election led to accusations of leading mobs to take over elections.

He is also partly to blame for the fact that Uganda’s opposition has not yet mustered a single candidate against Museveni due to competing egos and moral certitudes. Besigye has never seemed to be able to convince other opposition candidates to drop their candidacy and support him (or to do that for them).

Nevertheless, his individual role has been fundamental to the emergence of the idea and principle of peaceful opposition politics emerging in Uganda in the post-1986 era.

This is not to be underestimated in a country which has yet to experience a peaceful change of government since independence in 1962.

What is the context in which you assess his legacy?

Uganda’s post-1986 political landscape has been dominated, and controlled, by Museveni. His most recent election victory in January 2026 will extend his reign beyond 40 years.

While his public popularity has been in decline, Museveni has relied on two things. First is the Ugandan political and military elite. Since the mid-2000s he has taken steps to proof his regime against a military coup, by keeping influential military personnel on board.

Second is external support, mainly from western governments. This stems from Uganda’s involvement as a key security actor in the sub-region at the behest of western powers. This role has gradually been prioritised over the west’s pursuit of human rights.

Partly for these reasons, Besigye was never able to get the full backing of western donors to support his democratic goals. Instead they supported Museveni’s regime.

A lack of support for Besigye in western capitals was evident in 2024 when he was abducted while visiting Kenya, and returned as a prisoner to Kampala. It barely registered international condemnation or action – save for a belated push from US lawmakers.

This silence must be seen within a global context of democratic backsliding, including developments within President Donald Trump’s second term.

In east Africa, Kenya’s violent response to the 2024 Gen Z riots in Nairobi included state-led abductions and enforced disappearances targeting young people linked to the protest movement.

In Tanzania, the October 2025 presidential elections also saw human rights abuses of protestors met with unjustified lethal force.

What next?

Besigye has not managed to shake up Museveni’s inner circle of corrupt powerbrokers. This is because his progressive democratic vision of change threatens their privileges.

Neither has he ever enjoyed the global profile that he would have hoped for, such as Raila Odinga of Kenya or Morgan Tsvangirai of Zimbabwe managed – even as Bobi Wine did briefly before the 2021 election.

But the idea of a free and fair election is now at least ingrained in Uganda’s people. In a February 2025 interview, he revealed the lens through which his life work should be viewed:

We can only influence whether change happens quickly or is delayed, but change is inevitable. Sooner or later, Ugandans will take charge of their destiny and rebuild their country in a way that ensures equal opportunities for everyone.

If Besigye’s decades of sacrifice are to mean anything beyond retrospective praise, they demand engagement now, not memorialisation later. To remain silent is to collude in the slow erasure of a political life spent insisting that a truly democratic Uganda was a cause worth fighting for.

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. Kizza Besigye: the firebrand who has shaped opposition politics in Uganda – https://theconversation.com/kizza-besigye-the-firebrand-who-has-shaped-opposition-politics-in-uganda-275568

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Kennedy Mkutu, Associate Professor, International Relations, United States International University

The sun is rising in Kenya’s Kajiado county, just outside Nairobi, and a truck is rumbling over dusty ground towards a riverbank. Young men guide the driver to a parking spot and then spring into action, each with a scoop, filling the truck from a heap of the most desirable building sand for which the area is famous.

The driver passes the time with a snack and a mug of tea poured from a flask by a mobile vendor. He pays each of the young men around US$10 for their labour and the landowner US$40-US$50 for the sand. The driver then starts out on his journey to deliver sand to hardware stores, building sites or informal selling points in Nairobi and its suburbs, paying county taxes and police bribes along the way.

Sand mining sites like this have been mushrooming along Kenya’s numerous river systems. They are serving a construction boom sparked by urbanisation and grandiose infrastructure programmes.

Yet Kenya has been singled out by the UN’s environmental programme as a country of unsustainable sand harvesting. The industry is troubled by insufficient regulation, environmental degradation and, at times, violent conflict.

We are peace and security researchers who have studied controversies around sub-Saharan Africa’s infrastructure projects. In a recent study, we researched contestations around sand harvesting, as well as sand commodity chains in Kenya. We mapped where industry benefits are concentrated and looked at how locally established governance mechanisms work to distribute benefits – and harms.

We examined sites in seven Kenyan counties. In the west, we visited Homa Bay near Lake Victoria. Outside Nairobi, we studied sites in Nakuru and Kajiado. In the drier eastern parts, we visited Taita Taveta and Makueni – once a hotspot of violent conflict among sand mining cartels. In dry regions, sand is critical to water storage, where it’s used to create dams that boost underground water storage. On the Kenyan coast, we studied sites in Kwale and Kilifi, which serve developments in and around the city of Mombasa. We spoke to loaders, landowners, leaders of informal youth groups and cooperatives, transporters, brokers and administrators.

We found the industry to be ordered and unruly at the same time.

National regulation on sand harvesting in most counties is rarely enforced. Therefore, the stability of extraction and transport of sand hinges on complex informal rules that distribute the benefits of the industry. The greatest profits in the sand industry are not made at the extraction sites but higher up along the commodity chain. Sand supports large numbers of people at the community level.

We argue that making the most of Kenya’s sand industry doesn’t lie in introducing top-down legislation. Rather, existing informal regulation should be harnessed and harmonised within formal rules. This would go a long way towards ensuring sustainable livelihoods and widespread inclusion.

The winners and losers

Scholarship on the extraction of natural resources across the global south has demonstrated the tendency toward the removal of natural resources and accumulation by powerful agents. They forcefully control mining activities and value chains and leave behind high social and ecological costs, a phenomenon known as extractivism.

Extractivism depletes ecosystems and deprives communities of the use of natural resources, fair access to them and the opportunity to benefit from the wealth generated.

Does sand harvesting in Kenya display these characteristics? Not entirely.

Sand is perhaps a bit different to precious minerals like gemstones. It’s bulky, less valuable, and in many countries widespread and accessible with basic tools. Sand is found in rivers and fields, and on private and common land.

At harvesting sites, groups of loaders and homegrown sand cooperatives are in many places highly organised with rules, rosters and even external shareholders. They ensure a wider distribution of gains at the local level. Loader group membership positions are coveted and bought at a high price from group organisers, and some groups or cooperatives build up economic strength and attract better transporting contracts. Larger contractors dictate conditions, driving down prices at the harvesting sites.

As a development mineral, sand also feeds concrete production that’s pivotal for grand infrastructure and housing schemes. These have the potential to boost economic growth.

However, there are certainly some tendencies for benefits to flow away from the source. Unsurprisingly, the largest profits are made at urban markets. While truck drivers at harvesting sites pay around US$90 for a 12-ton truck of sand, the same load is sold in Nairobi for up to US$400. In-transit costs such as taxes, bribes, fuel and salaries amount to around US$100.

Landowners accumulate revenues, too. However, where land is contested upon a backdrop of colonial and post-colonial dispossession – such as in the Kedong site in Nakuru – this can be particularly controversial. At one point when landowners hired excavators, community members rioted and destroyed them, fearing complete displacement from their source of livelihood.

County governments also benefit greatly from local taxation and have little incentive to regulate overextraction from fragile sites.

Bribery in the sand business also thrives on the informality. The police capitalise on regular sand transporting routes and uniformly request US$4-8 from every truck. Overloading can be managed with a “fee” at weighbridges. Some drivers find ways to store sand and sell it without their bosses’ knowledge.

Though ecological harms were not fully explored in our work, we found evidence of them, particularly in drier counties, such as Taita Taveta and Makueni, where river sand is a vital container for water storage. Communities are aware of the environmental cost of overextraction and call for better regulation of the industry.

What needs to happen

Effective collaboration is needed between various layers of governance to make the sand trade in Kenya equitable and sustainable.

This is largely absent. One notable exception is the robust and participatory management of sand in Makueni county, which also took decisive action against cartels and prevented exports out of the county until ecosystem recovery was certain.

Instead of introducing top-down legislation to manage the industry, however, harnessing existing informal regulations and harmonising them within formal rules would go a long way towards ensuring sustainable livelihoods and widespread inclusion, as the Makueni case has demonstrated.

These discussions matter because Kenya, among many other countries in the global south, is rapidly urbanising and has a number of huge infrastructure projects in the works.

Several of the sites we studied provided sand for the construction of the Standard Gauge Railway (built from 2014 to 2019). While many communities benefited from the project, it also exposed unequal relations between government, businesses and communities that made exploitative sand extraction possible.

Given that the railway line will be extended to the Ugandan border, regulation that allows for broad local participation is critical for assuring trust in the Kenyan governance system.

Kennedy Mkutu receives funding from FORMAS the Swedish Research Council for the promotion of research for a sustainable society as well as from VR – the Swedish Research Council.

Jan Bachmann receives funding from FORMAS, the Swedish Research Council for the promotion of research for a sustainable society as well as from VR – the Swedish Research Council.

– ref. Sand mining and Kenya’s building boom: better rules are needed, but not from the top down – https://theconversation.com/sand-mining-and-kenyas-building-boom-better-rules-are-needed-but-not-from-the-top-down-275321

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Debbie Collier, Professor of Law and Director of the Centre for Transformative Regulation of Work, University of the Western Cape

Communities in South Africa continue to be fractured by service delivery failures, crime and gang-related violence. The impact is felt by families and communities, and in schools, universities and businesses across the country.

A vicious cycle is being fuelled by a number of factors. These include constraints on law enforcement and credible allegations of corruption and political interference in the criminal justice system. At the same time, the judiciary is under strain.

The result is that government agencies, municipalities and service providers are frequently drawn into disputes. If litigated, these can take years to resolve. This drains public resources and further erodes trust in public institutions. Justice delayed is justice denied.

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Read more:
Legal claims for medical mistakes are on the rise in South Africa: what’s behind the trend

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Mediation can provide a crucial, timely and constructive way to resolve conflict before matters escalate into violence or protracted litigation. Mediation, facilitated by an impartial third party, supports dialogue and meaningful engagement between parties, and the settlement of disputes on mutually acceptable terms.

Mediation paved the way for South Africa’s transition from apartheid to democracy in 1994. It is deeply rooted in the country’s approach to conflict resolution and social dialogue.

Mediation is common practice in community disputes and in labour law and other statutory dispute resolution contexts. But its use in court proceedings has been limited.

The rules of court for the Magistrates’ Courts and the High Court provide for mediation in civil litigated matters. But the uptake has been slow. And the court-annexed mediation project in the Magistrates’ Courts has been put on hold.

Recent developments have seen a shift toward mandatory mediation in civil litigated matters. These include the South Africa Law Reform Commission’s discussion paper. This was published in early 2025 for public input on mediation in civil, commercial and community disputes.

As a labour law scholar and in leading the South African Law Reform Commission’s project on alternative dispute resolution, I have come to appreciate how mediation can transform conflict. It can provide an accessible dispute resolution mechanism across diverse contexts.

But to optimise the use of mediation the following are required:

• wide-ranging awareness of mediation across institutions and communities and within the legal profession

• support for training and skills development, particularly for community mediators who play a crucial role in dispute resolution and transforming conflict

• an integrated and enabling regulatory, institutional and skills development framework, responsive to the diverse contexts in which mediation takes place.

The role of mediators in different contexts

A skilled mediator can mean the difference between conflict that results in violence, destruction and tragedy, and a negotiated outcome and constructive dialogue.

Community leaders, including religious and traditional leaders, can resolve a range of disputes and manage conflict within communities. This includes curbing community violence, de-escalating election violence, and intervening in student unrest and the destruction of property.

Training for community mediators

Mediation training should also be provided to counteract bullying in schools. Scholars can be equipped to intervene as peer mediators and resolve conflict constructively.

Mediation and peace building skills could also equip women to dismantle violence.

Mediation is already used in specialised statutory institutions and tribunals such as the Commission for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration, the Companies Tribunal and the South African Revenue Service. Its use can be extended to other administrative bodies supported by an enabling framework.

Mediation is part of a range of alternative dispute resolution mechanisms that can facilitate early dispute resolution and avoid protracted litigation. Hence many countries use court-connected mediation and alternative dispute resolution to improve access to justice.

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Read more:
Do you need your day in court? The evolution of dispute resolution

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Momentum towards court-connected mandatory mediation

A number of developments are under way, including:

• the South African Law Reform Commission’s proposal for a Mediation Act for South Africa

• the Land Court Act 6 of 2023, which allows the court to direct parties to attempt to settle an issue through mediation

• court-mandated mediation introduced in 2025 to manage the Gauteng provincial division’s caseload. A directive and a mediation protocol were introduced.

• proposed changes to the law on family disputes. The draft bill proposes mandatory mediation before commencing with court processes.

However, the idea of mandatory mediation has received mixed reactions.

Concerns

A range of arguments against mandatory mediation have been mounted. These include:

• fears that mandatory mediation will be imposed where a matter isn’t suited to mediation, and the risk of coercion to settle

• concerns that mediation doesn’t generate legal precedent and can produce outcomes not grounded in legal merits

• the burden of additional costs and delays.

Safeguards must be put in place to mitigate these risks. This includes judicial oversight and case management to ensure that mediation in court processes is used appropriately and supports access to justice.

Mediation isn’t a substitute for court proceedings in matters better suited to litigation. Judicial reform remains important, and litigation must be accessible in cases where it is best suited.

A compelling case for mediation

Integrating mediation within judicial processes provides an opportunity to resolve structural tensions within South Africa’s plural legal system.

South Africa’s legal system incorporates elements of English common law and Roman-Dutch civilian law, alongside deep-rooted systems of indigenous laws and traditional methods of conflict resolution. The result is a dissonance between the community oriented features of indigenous customs and the individualistic and industrial nature of statutory laws.

This dissonance is countered by the relational and restorative justice potential of mediation, which resonates with traditional methods of conflict resolution and opens up space to centre the foundational values of indigenous laws.

Next steps

The move towards mandatory mediation adds momentum to an evolving legal system and legal practice. It affirms indigenous values and practices.

Mediation could relieve pressure on the justice system and contribute to an enabling environment for social and economic development.

Access to justice is a public good. It requires access to appropriate legal resources, institutions, and dispute resolution mechanisms. Importantly, building an effective justice system is an ongoing project and a complex human undertaking that cannot be achieved through policy and law reform alone.

Debbie Collier is a commissioner of the South African Law Reform Commission (SALRC) and the project leader for Project 94 on Alternative Dispute Resolution. The views expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the SALRC. Debbie Collier receives funding from the National Research Foundation (NRF).

– ref. Mediation can speed up justice in South Africa: legal scholar makes the case – https://theconversation.com/mediation-can-speed-up-justice-in-south-africa-legal-scholar-makes-the-case-270110

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Salah Ben Hammou, Postdoctoral Research Associate, Rice University

The end of January 2026 effectively marked the end of party politics in Burkina Faso. On 29 January, Captain Ibrahim Traoré’s government formally dissolved all political parties, including those that had supported his September 2022 coup.

Parties had already been suspended since Traoré took power, but the junta framed this latest step as part of a broader state “restructuring” meant to reduce social divisions.

In practice, the move shuts down what little space remained for independent civic participation and further concentrates authority in Traoré’s hands. Party assets have also been taken over by the state.

For a junta that initially relied on enthusiastic civilian backing, the decision sits awkwardly alongside its rhetoric of popular mobilisation and revolutionary renewal. Yet this trajectory is far from surprising.

Across the Sahel and elsewhere in Africa, supporters of military takeovers are discovering that early enthusiasm rarely translates into lasting political influence. Coups that begin with popular support often end with the junta sidelining or overtly suppressing the very groups that helped stabilise its hold on power. The trend goes back decades.

I have extensively studied and written on military coups for nearly a decade, especially the recent coup wave in Africa.

I argue that once in power, military rulers have little incentive to share authority. Civilian groups are useful in the first days of a takeover. They provide crowds, legitimacy, and a sense that the coup reflects public frustration.

But those same groups quickly become inconvenient. They have their own leaders, their own constituencies, and their own expectations for the transition. They can criticise delays or mobilise supporters. This independence is precisely what juntas fear.

Early civilian enthusiasm should not be mistaken for a durable mandate, nor should it be read as evidence that a transition will remain inclusive.

Burkina Faso’s recent party ban is only the latest reminder. Support from outside the barracks may help usher in or stabilise a coup, but it rarely guarantees any lasting influence over what follows.

Buyer beware: Civilian support rarely leads to lasting influence

Contrary to how we typically think of coups, military takeovers frequently attract support from at least some segments of the civilian population. Sometimes civilians actively encourage a coup. They can also help ensure that it succeeds and stabilises.

These dynamics have been especially visible during Africa’s recent wave of coups. From Mali to Niger, military interventions have been welcomed, celebrated, and even endorsed by civil society groups, political parties, and other domestic actors. For coup leaders, these alliances offer visible legitimacy and a ready-made support base.

But an equally common trend follows. While civilian groups pledge support to maintain some influence in the post-coup order, juntas frequently sideline, marginalise, or altogether suppress even their erstwhile allies.

This pattern appears across eras and regions, cutting across ideological and social lines.

After Sudan’s 1969 coup, for instance, the Communist Party initially aligned itself with the Free Officers led by Col. Jaafar Nimeiri, offering crucial political backing. But within seven months, Nimeiri began sidelining the party, removing key Communist figures from government. By 1971, he had turned on them entirely, launching a brutal crackdown that crushed the party.

A similar trajectory followed Egypt’s 2013 coup. The protest movement Tamarod openly advocated for and later endorsed General Abdelfattah el-Sisi’s takeover. The influence of the movement and other political parties soon evaporated as civic space shrank.

Buyer’s remorse among coup supporters in the Sahel

Today, many of the civilian groups that championed the Sahel’s recent coups are going through the same experience as their predecessors elsewhere.

In Mali, the June 5 Movement–Rally of Patriotic Forces (M5‑RFP) – a broad coalition of opposition parties, clerics and activists associated with Imam Mahmoud Dicko – has become one of the most outspoken critics of Colonel Assimi Goïta’s junta.

Yet M5‑RFP was among the coup’s earliest supporters. After months of mass protests against President Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta, the movement welcomed the military’s intervention in August 2020 and expected to help steer the transition.

That expectation faded quickly. The junta sidelined M5‑RFP during the formation of the transitional government, excluding many of its leaders from key positions.

When Goïta carried out a second coup in May 2021, removing the civilian interim leadership and consolidating the military’s control, the movement’s influence shrank even further. What began as a tactical alliance ended with M5‑RFP pushed to the margins.

The aftermath of Guinea’s 2021 coup followed a similar trajectory. Opposition leaders against former president Alpha Conde initially welcomed Gen. Mamady Doumbouya’s coup. Expecting a meaningful role in the transition, party leaders even urged the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas) not to impose sanctions and publicly legitimised the coup as a necessary move.

But much like the Malian experience, the junta did not accommodate the parties for their support, barring them from substantial representation. Little more than a year later, party members were arrested when they voiced opposition to their lack of inclusion in the transition.

Seen in this comparative light, Burkina Faso’s recent party dissolution fits an established pattern. Early political backing does not guarantee continued access or influence once military rulers entrench themselves.

Salah Ben Hammou 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. Burkina Faso has dissolved all political parties: why African coup leaders often turn on the people who supported them – https://theconversation.com/burkina-faso-has-dissolved-all-political-parties-why-african-coup-leaders-often-turn-on-the-people-who-supported-them-275637

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Mark Swilling, Distinguished Professor of Sustainable Development, Stellenbosch University

The strategic significance of the reference to energy reform in South African President Cyril Ramaphosa’s State of the Nation Address cannot be overstated.

Many media reports carried a sense of elation about how this clears the way for resolving the country’s long-term energy crisis. This sentiment is premature: there are many devils in the details that need to be attended to before the country can celebrate.

Ramaphosa announced that the soon-to-be established Transmission System Operator will own South Africa’s transmission assets. This would include all main powerlines and sub-stations. This was contrary to what had been expected, particularly by South Africa’s state-owned power utility Eskom. Its assumption was that it would retain ownership of the transmission assets via its subsidiary, the National Transmission Company of South Africa, that was established in 2024.

Ramaphosa disagreed.

We are restructuring Eskom and establishing a fully independent state-owned transmission entity. This entity will have ownership and control of transmission assets and be responsible for operating the electricity market.

He went on to say:

Given the importance of this restructuring for the broader reform of the electricity sector, I have established a dedicated task team under the National Energy Crisis Committee to address various issues relating to the restructuring process, including clear timeframes for its phased implementation. It will report to me within three months.

The implications of this statement are far-reaching.

Surprise move

The National Transmission Company of South Africa, established in July 2024, is the
current owner and operator of the national grid transmission system. It is entirely owned by Eskom Holdings. It was assumed that, within five years, it would be spun out of Eskom and reconstituted as the Transmission System Operator. In other words, in addition to owning the transmission assets, this entity would be the overall operator of the national grid, the manager of the build programme, and operator of the energy market provided for by the Energy Regulation Amendment Act.

In an opinion piece in December 2025 Dan Marokane, Eskom Group CEO elaborated on an announcement by the Minister of Energy and Electricty when he wrote:

Under the chosen modality, the (Eskom-owned) National Transmission Company of South Africa will remain the owner of transmission assets, entering a right-of-use agreement with the newly established Transmission System Operator … responsible for independently operating transmission assets, whether owned by the National Transmission Company of South Africa or private sector players under the envisioned Independent Transmission Projects programme.

This approach took some parts of government and major business and investment associations by surprise.

The objections by business stem from concerns about how the build-out of new energy capabilities will be financed. The US$25 billion plan on the table provides for a grid transmission build programme over the next 10 years to stabilise South Africa’s energy output.

But where will the money come from?

The money question

South African business and Enoch Godongwana, the Minister of Finance, argue that the only affordable and sustainable way to fund this kind of infrastructure build is to rope in the private sector. That there’s money available is not disputed. As a sustainable development scholar my own research for the National Planning Commission shows that there is a surplus of investment capital in South Africa to fund the just transition.

But there are concerns that investors will be reluctant to invest this capital in an Eskom subsidiary because Eskom’s balance sheet is compromised. And because of its track record and low ratings, Eskom is not regarded by some investors as trustworthy. And even if they do invest in Eskom, because of a perceived higher risk, this would raise the cost of capital and push up electricity prices.

Reportedly, Ramaphosa’s statement came after various consultations during December and January.

Why it matters

The widely supported government-approved Transmission Development Plan established by the National Transmission Company of South Africa makes provision for a R400 billion investment strategy over a 10-year period.

This will make it possible to build 14,400kms of new lines, 271 new
transformers and rehabilitate the existing infrastructure.

Given the state’s fiscal constraints, massive increases in public funding to achieve the plan’s targets are unlikely. It follows that the bulk will have to come from domestic
investors.

That means, if South Africa is truly committed to achieving the plan’s targets then it needs to make sure that the conditions are in place to unlock private capital for public infrastructures.

This is not privatisation. The aim is to mobilize South African capital to meet South Africa’s needs.

The danger of a return to loadshedding

If the conditions for increased private investment in this publicly-owned transmission infrastructure are not put in place, it is very likely that loadshedding will return in 2029.

Eskom’s Medium Term Adequacy Outlook makes clear the risks South Africa faces come 2029/30 when the three oldest power stations – Hendrina, Camden and Grootvlei – need to be decommissioned, and more after them.

The outlook also makes clear that if the much-needed 6GW of gas infrastructure does not come on-line in time to replace coal power, loadshedding is highly likely by 2029. But there is widespread doubt about this gas infrastructure materialising by 2029/30.

And so, if the National Transmission Company of South Africa cannot access the capital needed at the right price to massively expand the grid over the next five years, then the renewables (mainly wind) plus extensive backup that the country needs to prevent loadshedding by 2029/30 will not be able to connect into the national grid.

That will almost certainly result in the return of loadshedding.

Many analysts have raised doubts about whether Eskom has the headroom to raise the required debt against its own balance sheet. If they are correct, creating a “fully independent Transmission System Operator” that controls and owns its own assets is then presented as an easier way to raise debt at a lower price. In turn, this is supposed to have a beneficial impact on tariffs, and prevent loadshedding.

But this is a simplistic understanding of the solution.

The independent Transmission System Operator will take a few years to get established. The report the president wants will describe how the assets can be transferred over time without harming Eskom’s financial position. Sudden shifts should be avoided.

Furthermore, this report will have to deal with the details where the devils reside. In particular, if the Transmission System Operator is fully independent, then what matters is the full independence of the revenue system from Eskom, cost-reflective tariffs and revenue certainty (which includes a solution to the growing mountain of municipal arrears).

The call for a fully independent Transmission System Operator may give lenders the security they need, but the hidden threat is that the risk of revenue shortfalls gets transferred to the sovereign (and ultimately the tax payer).

In the meantime, the transmission build programme must be accelerated. Our research described how the energy transition can be accelerated. We also set out why a renewables-based economy enabled by the transmission build programme is not only the lowest-cost option compared to the alternatives, it is also central to “green growth” which the President described as “[t]he biggest opportunity of all… .”

To establish a fully independent state-owned Transmission System Operator within five years, alignment across three fronts will be required:

• government-wide support for the policy direction described by the President,

• managerial interests within the National Transmission Company of South Africa who see their futures beyond Eskom and act out accordingly over the medium- to long-term,and

• a South African investment community prepared to make big ticket long-term investments in a pipeline of large-scale transmission projects over the next decade.

But this can only work if a revenue model can be designed that is independent of Eskom, guarantees cash flow discipline and ensures cost-reflective tariffs. No document to date addresses this crucial nexus.

With policy and revenue certainty, South African investors will be able to make 20-year investments to implement the Transmission Development Plan. By ensuring that the country avoids loadshedding, these policy-enabled investments will drive accelerated green growth.

Mark Swilling receives funding from National Research Foundation. He is affiliated with the National Transmission Company of South Africa in his capacity as a non-Executive Director. He writes in his academic capacity.

– ref. Ramaphosa and a stable electricity system in South Africa: the devils are in the detail – https://theconversation.com/ramaphosa-and-a-stable-electricity-system-in-south-africa-the-devils-are-in-the-detail-276014

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Rod Crompton, Visiting Adjunct Professor, African Energy Leadership Centre, Wits Business School, University of the Witwatersrand

South African President Cyril Ramaphosa, in his 2026 State of the Nation address, announced that the country’s electricity transmission assets would move out of state-owned Eskom. This will happen once the newly established National Transmission Company of South Africa is unbundled into a fully independent company.

This is not the first time Ramaphosa has used his State of the Nation address to keep South Africa’s electricity reforms on track. In 2021, he raised the cap on private power generation from 1MW to 100MW. Minister Gwede Mantashe at the time admitted that the president had “twisted his arm”.

In 2022, Ramaphosa removed the cap altogether, unleashing a torrent of private investment.

Why did Ramaphosa need to intervene again in 2026?

Many would naturally expect a national electricity transmission company to have transmission assets. But for those who have followed South Africa’s long, zigzag road toward market reforms since it became government policy in the
white paper on Energy Policy in 1998, it is less of a surprise.

I was involved in drafting the white paper and the 2019 Eskom roadmap. I worked in the Department of Minerals and Energy, was a regulator at the National Energy Regulator of South Africa for 11 years and subsequently sat on the Eskom board for six years until I resigned in 2024.

If nothing else, Eskom management has a dogged determination in pursuit of their objectives. In this fight, where ideology and serious money are intertwined, it’s difficult to predict the outcome. It’s important because it’s a prelude to bigger fights to come.

Reverse creates alarm

In December 2025, Ramaphosa’s Minister of Electricity and Energy, Kgosientsho Ramokgopa, announced that instead of being unbundled into a fully independent company, the National Transmission Company of South Africa would remain a wholly owned Eskom subsidiary, with its assets staying inside Eskom. Only the System Operator would move outside Eskom.

This announcement was alarming for several reasons:

• The South African Wholesale Electricity Market is meant to commence operations in April 2026. Eskom, as the dominant generator, would have a conflict of interest in a competitive market if it owned both generation and transmission assets.

• It appeared, politically, to reverse an important advance made by the Electricity Regulation Amendment Act, which came into effect in January 2025. The act created the expectation that the National Transmission Company of South Africa would become fully independent outside Eskom within five years.

• After severe electricity shortages between 2008 and 2024 (what Eskom terms “loadshedding”), analysts predict a return to power cuts around 2030 unless more renewable power stations are built in time. There is no shortage of willing investors, but the transmission grid is congested, especially in the western parts of the country where the wind and sunshine are best. The
  bulk of electricity demand is in the east, so the grid must be strengthened to transport power from west to east.

Ramaphosa predicted in his 2026 State of the Nation address that “by 2030, more than 40% of our energy supply will come from cheap, clean, renewable energy sources”.

Eskom plans to debottleneck the grid, targeting 14,500km of new transmission lines and 133,000 MVA (MegaVolt-Ampere) of additional transformers by 2034 at an estimated cost of US$27.5 billion.

An independent National Transmission Company of South Africa will need assets to borrow against if it is to contribute to grid expansion.

However, both Eskom and the state are effectively broke. The government cannot afford to continue the massive bailouts Eskom has needed to stay afloat over the last decade. Consequently, it must turn to the private sector.

It is planning public-private partnerships to enable private investors to expand the grid. But if Eskom’s transmission assets remain inside Eskom, those investors – as well as prospective investors in new generation capacity – would be less inclined to invest.

Both groups would fear that Eskom, as controller of the transmission assets, would discriminate against them in the emerging competitive market. Both want a level playing field and a fully independent grid to underpin the electricity market. Allowing Eskom to own the grid threatens investment and the market reform trajectory and also raises the spectre of future loadshedding.

Politically, Ramaphosa’s announcement is a public rebuke of his Minister of Electricity and Energy, who appears to have fallen under Eskom’s sway as it seeks to prolong its near-monopoly in the electricity market. Globally, monopolies do not relinquish market power easily.

In effect, Ramaphosa was settling a dispute between Eskom and the faction in his African National Congress that supports a developmental state dominated by state-owned companies, on one hand, and the National Treasury and those who recognise that depending on Eskom to solve the country’s electricity problems is unlikely to end well, on the other.

Ramaphosa went out of his way to say:

We are establishing a level playing field for competition, so that we are never again exposed to the risk of relying on a single supplier to meet our energy needs.

Why do Eskom and Ramokgopa want to keep the transmission assets inside Eskom?

The battle lines

They point to Eskom’s US$25 billion debt and note that lenders provided funds against the security of Eskom’s assets. If those assets shrink by removing the transmission lines, the lenders will object and demand repayment. Eskom would be unable to comply. Lenders with government guarantees would then turn to the government, which would also be unable to repay, leading to financial collapse.

This alarmist view ignores that utilities with debts in many countries have been restructured during market reforms. If they could negotiate solutions with lenders, why can’t Eskom?

Some believe Eskom is using debt as an excuse to retain market power, pointing to its legal challenge against the National Energy Regulator’s decision to grant electricity trading licences to five private traders.

Others believe Eskom is not receiving good financial advice and wonder why the National Treasury is not more forthright, given its extensive work in this area.

Eskom also cites its worry over:

• the US$6.27 billion owed by municipalities

• the need “to take account of the establishment of Eskom Green … proposed new subsidiary to house Eskom’s renewable energy business” and

• the requirement for lender consents on a loan-by-loan basis.

Energy Council of South Africa chief executive James Mackay describes the unbundling framework as a “hot potato,” noting that “timing, risk and ensuring Eskom Generation doesn’t collapse (are) equally important”.

Ramaphosa recognises that difficulties remain:

Given the importance of this restructuring for the broader reform of the electricity sector, I have established a dedicated task team under the National Energy Crisis Committee to address various issues relating to the restructuring process.

It must report to him in three months.

Ramaphosa’s comments in his address prompted Eskom’s probably shortest-ever press release, in which it pledged full support for the task team.

So, it’s not a done deal.

Notably, Eskom does not endorse the president’s announcement. It more likely sees the task team as another platform to advance its views in the ongoing contestation over the path and pace of South Africa’s electricity reforms.

It will be interesting.

Rod Crompton 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. Does South Africa have a future without power cuts? Ramaphosa intervenes, but the drama isn’t over – https://theconversation.com/does-south-africa-have-a-future-without-power-cuts-ramaphosa-intervenes-but-the-drama-isnt-over-276015

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Chidi Anselm Odinkalu, Professor of Practice, International Human Rights Law, Tufts University

In a rapidly fracturing world, regional integration could be a source of resilience for the African continent.

The African Union agreed in 2019 to establish the African Continental Free Trade Area founded on the building blocks laid by eight regional economic communities. These are the Arab Maghreb Union, the Common Market for Eastern and Southern Africa (Comesa), the Community of Sahel-Saharan States (Cen-Sad), the East African Community (EAC), the Economic Community of Central African States (Eccas), the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas), the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) and the Southern African Development Community (SADC).

But integration has made slow progress.

The World Bank issued a report 45 years ago which said a larger regional market would increase production and reduce “long-term obstacles to development”. Those obstacles included infrastructure deficits, payment and settlement systems, and political risk.

They persist to this day. Based on my research over more than three decades of work on regionalism in Africa, I suggest there are four main reasons why.

• Integration experiments suffer from colonial dependency.

• Integration has failed to address the informal nature of enterprise in Africa.

• African countries do integration as an add-on to pre-existing colonial arrangements, instead of re-imagining them.

• Regional integration in Africa has been burdened by mission creep, which makes its goals unclear.

I argue that institutions created by Africa’s leaders for this purpose must facilitate the continent as a space in which every African can thrive and diminish the tendency for national politics to trump shared progress.

The burden of colonial dependency

At the conclusion of the Berlin West Africa Conference in February 1885, European powers and the United States of America appointed themselves “to regulate the conditions most favourable to the development of trade and civilization … in Africa.”

In 1973, a pioneering study of Foreign Investments in the East African Common Market concluded that most of Africa’s post-colonial regional integration arrangements were “based on pre-independence links and institutions.”

For instance, the East African Common Market was successor to Britain’s colonial East African Federation and precursor of today’s East African Community. The Community’s recent effort to expand beyond this original geography has come at the price of cohesion, which endangers it.

Ecowas was the first to transcend patterns of colonial dependency. Uniquely, it included countries that won their independence from France, Portugal and the United Kingdom. Fifty years after Ecowas was founded, recent developments suggest the experience continues to be uneasy.

One reason for this is because the post-colonial association or partnership agreements between the European Union and African, Caribbean and Pacific countries is designed to farm and extract goods that are sent to be processed in Europe. From there, African countries import the processed goods at higher prices. This makes it impossible for Africa to grow industries that can employ its own people to process what it produces.

Informal nature of business activity

Around Africa, colonial rule thrived by routing or taking over indigenous enterprise. Those who survived it did so by going underground or operating informally. Since independence, most governments in the continent have failed to redress this historical pattern criminalising African enterprise.

As recently as 2023, the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa estimated informal cross-border trade in Africa at “between 30% and 72% of formal trade between neighbouring countries.” This excludes a huge proportion of African enterprise from the benefits of regional integration.

Integration as an add on, instead of a shared future

African countries continue to enter into regional integration not to re-imagine but as add-ons to pre-existing colonial arrangements. Recent estimates put the number of these arrangements at over 156. For a continent of 55 countries, this means confounding overlaps of both membership and mission.

In response, many have advocated rationalisation of Africa’s regional integration arrangements.

The AU’s decision to recognise eight regional economic communities was supposed to respond to this. But it has not eliminated the overlaps. For instance, Tanzania and the DRC respectively belong to the EAC and SADC. Eritrea and Sudan were simultaneously in the IGAD, Comesa, and Cen-Sad. French-speaking west African countries belong to both Ecowas and the Economic and Monetary Union of West Africa, better known as l’UEMOA.

What needs to happen next

Popular resentment against continuing colonial projects in parts of Africa may be high but it requires political imagination to transform that into constructive energy.

Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger exited Ecowas following rupture in relations with the colonial power, France. However, they still belong to l’UEMOA, whose currency system is backed by France.

It will take more than formal rules of market access or tax harmonisation to shrink informal trade. Women, for example, do over 70% of informal cross-border trade in Africa. An effective solution to this problem will require better frontier regimes and eliminate policies that discourage women from lawful enterprise.

Addressing mission creep

Rationalisation of Africa’s integration arrangements may already be quietly underway. Much of the focus is on membership overlaps. Since 2000, for instance, Ecowas has lost 25% of its membership, reducing it from 16 to 12 member states. Rwanda has withdrawn from Eccas and Eritrea from IGAD.

But the problem may be lack of clarity in the mission of Africa’s integration arrangements. In addition to economic issues, Africa’s regional integration regimes have also assumed burdens of collective security and governance oversight. The outcomes have been both unconvincing and destabilising. The exit in 2025 of Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger from Ecowas is a recent example.

Without a clear political commitment to a shared future, Africa’s governments have been unable to manage the contradictions between economic integration, collective security and governance in one mission. The time has come for them to decide what they must prioritise so that regional integration in Africa will finally get the opportunity to prove and improve the continent’s prospects.

Chidi Anselm Odinkalu 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. Africa’s trade blocs were designed to unite the continent: four reasons they haven’t delivered – https://theconversation.com/africas-trade-blocs-were-designed-to-unite-the-continent-four-reasons-they-havent-delivered-274471

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Lesedi Senamele Matlala, Senior Lecturer and Researcher in Public Policy, Monitoring and Evaluations, University of Johannesburg

Government departments across South Africa are increasingly relying on digital tools to evaluate public programmes and monitor performance. This is part of broader public-sector reforms. Their aims are to improve accountability, respond to audit pressure and manage large-scale programmes with limited staff and budgets.

Here’s an example. National departments tracking housing delivery, social grants or infrastructure rollout rely on digital performance systems rather than periodic paper-based reports. Dashboards – a way of showing visual data in one place – provide near real-time updates on service delivery.

Another is the use platforms that collect mobile data. These allow frontline officials and contractors to upload information directly from the field.

Both examples lend themselves to the use of artificial intelligence (AI) to process large datasets and generate insights that would previously have taken months to analyse.

This shift is often portrayed as a step forward for accountability and efficiency in the public sector.

I am a public policy scholar with a special interest in monitoring and evaluation of government programmes. My recent research shows a worrying trend, that the turn to technology is unfolding much quicker than the ethical and governance frameworks meant to regulate it.

Across the cases I’ve examined, digital tools were already embedded in routine monitoring and evaluation processes. But there weren’t clear standards guiding their use.

This presents risks around surveillance, exclusion, data misuse and poor professional judgement. These risks are not abstract. They shape how citizens experience the state, how their data is handled and whose voices ultimately count in policy decisions.

When technology outruns policy

Public-sector evaluation involves assessing government programmes and policies. It determines whether:

• public resources are used effectively

• programmes achieve their intended outcomes

• citizens can hold the state accountable for performance.

Traditionally, these evaluations relied on face-to-face engagement between communities, evaluators, government and others. They included qualitative methods that allowed for nuance, explanation and trust-building.

Digital tools have changed this.

In my research, I interviewed evaluators across government, NGOs, academia, professional associations and private consultancies. I found a consistent concern across the board. Digital systems are often introduced without ethical guidance tailored to evaluation practice.

Ethical guidance would provide clear, practical rules for how digital tools are used in evaluations. For example, when using dashboards or automated data analytics, guidance should require evaluators to explain how data are generated, who has access to them and how findings may affect communities being evaluated. It should also prevent the use of digital systems to monitor individuals without consent or to rank programmes in ways that ignore context.

South Africa’s Protection of Personal Information Act provides a general legal framework for data protection. But it doesn’t address the specific ethical dilemmas that arise when evaluation becomes automated, cloud-based and algorithmically mediated.

The result is that evaluators are often left navigating complex ethical terrain without clear standards. This forces institutions to rely on precedent, informal habits, past practices and software defaults.

Surveillance creep and data misuse

Digital platforms make it possible to collect large volumes of data. Once data is uploaded to cloud-based systems or third-party platforms, control over its storage, reuse and sharing frequently shifts from the evaluators to others.

Several evaluators described situations where data they’d collected on behalf of government departments was later reused by the departments or other state agencies. This was done without participants’ explicit awareness. Consent processes in digital environments are often reduced to a single click.

Examples of other uses included other forms of analysis, reporting or institutional monitoring.

One of the ethical risks that came out of the research was the use of this data for surveillance. This is the use of data to monitor individuals, communities or frontline workers.

Digital exclusion and invisible voices

Digital evaluation tools are often presented as expanding reach and participation. But in practice, they can exclude already marginalised groups. Communities with limited internet access, low digital literacy, language barriers or unreliable infrastructure are less likely to participate fully in digital evaluations.

Automated tools have limitations. For example, they may struggle to process multilingual data, local accents or culturally specific forms of expression. This leads to partial or distorted representations of lived experience. Evaluators in my study saw this happening in practice.

This exclusion has serious consequences especially in a country with inequality like South Africa. Evaluations that rely heavily on digital tools might find urban, connected populations and make rural or informal communities statistically invisible.

This is not merely a technical limitation. It shapes which needs are recognised and whose experiences inform policy decisions. If evaluation data underrepresents the most vulnerable, public programmes may appear more effective than they are. This masks structural failures rather than addressing them.

In my study, some evaluations reported positive performance trends despite evaluators noting gaps in data collection.

Algorithms are not neutral

Evaluators also raised concerns about the growing authority granted to algorithmic outputs. Dashboards, automated reports and AI-driven analytics are often treated as the true picture. This happens even when they conflict with field-based knowledge or contextual understanding.

For example, dashboards may show a target as on track. But in an example of a site visit, evaluators my find flaws or dissatisfaction.

Several participants reported pressure from funders or institutions to rely on the analysis of the numbers.

Yet algorithms reflect the assumptions, datasets and priorities embedded in their design. When applied uncritically, they can reproduce bias, oversimplify social dynamics and disregard qualitative insight.

If digital systems dictate how data must be collected, analysed and reported, evaluators risk becoming technicians and not independent professionals exercising judgement.

Why Africa needs context-sensitive ethics

Across Africa, national strategies and policies on digital technologies often borrow heavily from international frameworks. These are developed in very different contexts. Global principles on AI ethics and data governance provide useful reference points. But they don’t adequately address the realities of inequality, historical mistrust and uneven digital access across much of Africa’s public sector.

My research argues that ethical governance for digital evaluation must be context-sensitive. Standards must address:

• how consent is obtained

• who owns evaluation data

• how algorithmic tools are selected and audited

• how evaluator independence is protected.

Ethical frameworks must be embedded at the design stage of digital systems.

Lesedi Senamele Matlala is affiliated with the South Africa Monitoring and Evaluation Association (SAMEA). I am the chairperson

– ref. Digital monitoring is growing in South Africa’s public service – regulation needs to catch up – https://theconversation.com/digital-monitoring-is-growing-in-south-africas-public-service-regulation-needs-to-catch-up-273288