Abdulrazak Gurnah: searching for signs of Zanzibar’s most famous writer, all I found was trinkets and tourists

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Tinashe Mushakavanhu, Assistant Professor, Harvard University

Nobel Prize-winning author Abdulrazak Gurnah in Denmark in 2025. Hreinn Gudlaugsson/Wikimedia Commons

Zanzibar has long been an island of arrivals for traders, sailors, slaves and, more recently, waves of tourists. I arrived as a wedding guest and a reader of the Zanzibar born novelist Abdulrazak Gurnah, in search of the literary and emotional landscapes that shape his fiction. For a week, I was part of the tourist economy of this east African island, passively complicit in its curated pleasures.

For all its beautiful images on social media, Zanzibar is a site of difficult memory. It was once a central node in the Indian Ocean slave trade, so its past is carved into the coral-stone buildings that reflect a complex fusion of Swahili, Indian, Arab and European influences in architecture and town planning.

An island outcrop with buildings.
Zanzibar’s tourist attraction Stone Town from the air.
Wegmann/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

A visit to the Old Slave Market was sobering. You cannot look away once you’ve seen it. And yet, Zanzibar is now overlaid with carefully packaged experiences: boutique hotels with infinity pools, beach picnics with imported champagne, stalls of “African” art mass-produced for western eyes. The art has become so generic that it hurts. All the curio markets on the island look the same.

Even the language has been commodified. Everyone is selling something. Everyone is searching. “Jambo,” (Hello) say mostly young men offering one service or another. “Hakuna matata.” (No worries.) “Pole pole.” (No rush.) These cheerful Kiswahili phrases made famous by the likes of the Lion King movie are repeated like slogans and feel soulless.

Most of the cars on the roads operate as taxis with stickers that say: Private Hire. The tuk tuks, three-wheeled tricycles, weave in and out of traffic because movement is an act of constant negotiation, part of a tourist infrastructure that operates as a regulated service.

A black and white photo of a bustling market street lined by old buildings.
The tourist markets of Stone Town.
Rod Waddington/Flickr/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Amid the hum of engines and the ceaseless choreography of traffic, I kept searching not just for respite from the heat or wifi or good coffee, but for something literary. I was looking for the celebrated writer Abdulrazak Gurnah. Not the man (he hasn’t lived in Zanzibar for decades), but the essence of his writing, informed by this place: the ache of exile, the weight of history, the restless question of belonging he grapples with.

Gurnah is not just a writer I’ve read; he examined my doctoral dissertation at the University of Kent, where he taught for many years until his retirement. He is an important part of my intellectual development.

As a scholar of African literature, I engage deeply with the traditions, debates and histories that Gurnah’s novels illuminate, so my attempt to map his legacy in Zanzibar carried both personal and professional significance.

Absence of literary memory

Gurnah was born here, on this island of contradictions. He left following the Zanzibar Revolution of 1964, a violent outbreak of anti-Arab violence in postcolonial Africa. He was a teenager when he moved to England as a refugee, and has lived there ever since.

I expected, perhaps foolishly, to see a plaque with his name. A mural. Something. But there was nothing, even in Stone Town, where the past feels pressed into every narrow alley. This historical capital is an indecipherable tangle of markets, bathhouses, former colonial offices and palaces. I asked about bookshops at every turn. Locals looked puzzled, amused. “Why?” one asked. “You want to read on holiday?” That is because I can’t imagine a beach without a book.




Read more:
Abdulrazak Gurnah: what you need to know about the Nobel prize-winning author


Eventually, I found Gurnah’s famous novels in a souvenir shop that mostly sold skin-care products. They sat beside cookbooks and Swahili language guides. The only other meaningful literary encounter came via the mainland: a newly published Tanzanian literary journal, Semi za Picha, sent by ferry.

That little package was the most precious thing I took away from Zanzibar. It’s described as “a film journal” and edited by Jesse Gerard Mpango and Dismas Sekibaha, who are members of an audio-visual collective, Ajabu Ajabu, based in Dar es Salaam.

It’s not that Zanzibar lacks intellectual life. There is a State University. A global centre for Swahili Studies. Museums and Unesco heritage sites.

But there are no visible monuments to literature. There is no street named after Abdulrazak Gurnah. And yet, his imagination haunts the island. Reading his fiction made me more aware of the surfaces I was treading on, all the stories hiding under sand and souvenirs here, or submerged in the waters of the Indian Ocean.

Gurnah’s novels are known for their moral precision and speak to the legacies of colonialism and displacement along the Swahili coast. His characters often inhabit spaces between languages, continents and allegiances. In many ways, the disjuncture Gurnah explores, especially the fraught layering of history, is what unfolded before us.




Read more:
Why the work of Abdulrazak Gurnah, the champion of heartbreak, stands out for me


We criss-crossed Zanzibar by car, drove through villages with crumbling schools and no paved roads in search of the perfect beach. Then the ocean would appear, in its glimmering glory, and there were always many people taking pictures, as if the world was just a beautiful pose. But there’s something repugnant about turning people’s homes into backgrounds for entertainment. In our swimsuits, we were trespassing through communities, not just beautiful landscapes.

Zanzibar is not local anymore. It is a mesh of immigrants and itinerants: its service industry jobs are all occupied by people from many places. Local Tanzanian hotel staff, Kenyan chefs, French and South African restaurateurs, Belgian and German landlords. Whether you’re walking, or sitting at the beach, you can hear a babel of languages: Arabic, Chinese, Dutch, French, Hebrew, Italian, Shona, Swahili, Zulu.

A row of wood-carved African masks, all similar.
African masks at the island’s many tourist shops.
Djordje Markovic/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Maybe my search for Gurnah and for literature was a search for an ethical place to stand. In Zanzibar, billboards of Tanzanian president Samia Suluhu Hassan are prominently displayed, projecting an image of calm authority. Once welcomed as a reformer, Hassan now faces growing criticism over alleged human rights abuses. But beneath the façade lies a more contested reality.

Zanzibar is a semi-autonomous archipelago with its own president and parliament, yet remains politically tethered to the mainland of Tanzania. This union has long been marked by tension over power, identity and representation as many Zanzibaris continue to assert a distinct cultural and political identity.

At the wedding, we didn’t speak of any of this. There was music, speech-making and laughter. This island, beautiful and bruised, is the backdrop of the absurdity of overtourism. And I still can’t get over the fact that in Zanzibar I could find no bookshops.

The Conversation

Tinashe Mushakavanhu 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. Abdulrazak Gurnah: searching for signs of Zanzibar’s most famous writer, all I found was trinkets and tourists – https://theconversation.com/abdulrazak-gurnah-searching-for-signs-of-zanzibars-most-famous-writer-all-i-found-was-trinkets-and-tourists-262886

Fela and food: how Lagos restaurants are serving up the music star’s legacy

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Garhe Osiebe, Research Fellow, Rhodes University

In Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial and creative capital, food is doing something unusual. It’s keeping alive the spirit of a musician.

Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, one of Africa’s most influential artists, was the architect of Afrobeat (not to be confused with today’s Afrobeats, which was born from it).

Fela pioneered his politically charged, musically expansive sound in the early 1970s by blending jazz, highlife, funk and Yoruba rhythms. He paired these with lyrics that took aim at corruption, oppression and postcolonial disillusionment. His songs were as much rallying cries as they were works of art.




Read more:
Fela Kuti is more famous today than ever – what’s behind his global power


Today, dishes named after Fela’s protest anthems – and restaurant soundscapes steeped in Afrobeats – are making dining in Lagos a journey through African music history.

As a musicologist involved in African Studies, I research the legacy of Fela Kuti and how it manifests in new forms today, in music, political life and even food. I first raised Fela’s legacy in food in a 2022 article for the book that accompanied a major exhibition in France called Fela Anikulapo-Kuti: Rébellion Afrobeat.

For me the new Lagos trend raises a question: do these culinary tributes preserve the radical edge of Fela’s art – or do they dilute it by commercialising it?

From protest songs to plated specials

In May 2025, The Afrobeat opened at EbonyLife Place, a high-profile entertainment and hospitality complex in Lagos. It markets itself as

The world’s first restaurant dedicated to celebrating Africa’s vibrant music genre.

The Afrobeat offers not just meals but a fully curated cultural experience. Yet it was not the first to blend food and Fela.

That distinction belongs to Kuti’s Bistro, launched in 2019 by the family of Seun Kuti, Fela’s youngest son. It’s currently closed for diners but still delivers meals.

Positioned as a pan-African eatery, the bistro’s dining area was steeped in Afrobeat imagery and sound, with walls adorned in Fela-inspired art. Its dishes draw on regional African culinary traditions, from Nigerian staples to cross-continental flavours.

Like so many restaurants in Lagos today, its playlist was dominated by Afrobeats, the electronically driven pop music now dominant across west Africa and its diasporas. Afrobeats owes much to Fela’s pioneering spirit.

The menu is where the homage becomes striking. Meals at Kuti’s are named after some of Fela’s most famous songs: breakfast plates called Yanga, starters like Shakara, hearty mains such as Feast for Nation, Roforofo Fight, and I No Be Gentleman. Even desserts bear provocative titles like Trouble Sleep Yanga Wake Am and Expensive Shit.

These are not just playful references. They’re a way of transforming Fela’s work into living memory.




Read more:
The daughters and sons of Fela in African Pop


The pairing of food and music creates a layered cultural experience. The textures and spices of the food evoke place and tradition; the music anchors the experience in a living, evolving sound. Diners are invited to consume Fela’s legacy with all their senses: sight, sound, smell, taste, and even memory.

In this way, these restaurants function as more than dining spaces. They are cultural archives. They stage a performance of history and identity every time a plate leaves the kitchen.

Preserving or packaging the radical?

Still, the shift from protest anthem to menu item raises questions.

Can a song like Expensive Shit, originally a razor-sharp satire on state harassment, retain its political bite when it is served as a dessert on a polished ceramic plate? Does turning Roforofo Fight into a main course preserve its cultural meaning? Or does it risk reducing it to a quirky marketing hook? This tension is not unique to Fela’s legacy.

Around the world, radical art often undergoes a process of “heritagisation” and commodification. It becomes a celebrated cultural product, sometimes losing the confrontational edge that defined it.

Yet this transformation does not necessarily strip away its significance. It can create new pathways for engagement. For younger diners, who may know Fela only as a name in music history or a face on a T-shirt, a menu item can become a spark of curiosity. It might prompt a search for the original song, leading to a deeper encounter with his music and the politics behind it.

A legacy that adapts

Fela’s artistic and political vision was always about creating spaces where African identity could be expressed on its own terms.

In the 1970s and 80s, that space was his nightclub, the Afrika Shrine, where music, conversation and resistance flowed freely. In 2025, it might be a restaurant table in Lagos, where I No Be Gentleman arrives as a sizzling platter of suya-spiced beef.

These spaces also speak to the adaptability of Fela’s legacy. His music has inspired entire genres; his persona has been invoked in theatre, literature, political protests, art exhibitions, films, and now dining.

Each iteration, like the opening of the New Afrika Shrine in 2000, reinterprets him for new audiences, keeping his name and ideas in circulation.




Read more:
Detty December started as a Nigerian cultural moment. Now it’s spreading across the continent – and minting money


Today’s blending of food and music illustrates how cultural memory works in Africa. Artistic legacies can be preserved not just through direct performance, but through symbolic transformation into other mediums; mediums that engage the senses, draw on tradition, and thrive in the global marketplace.

The Afrobeat-themed restaurants of Lagos are not just curiosities for tourists or novelties for locals. They are living experiments in how to honour a cultural icon while making him relevant to the present.

Whether these spaces ultimately radicalise or simply entertain, they ensure that Fela Anikulapo-Kuti remains part of the city’s sensory landscape; not only heard, but tasted. And in a rapidly changing Lagos, that may be one of the most enduring tributes possible.

The Conversation

Garhe Osiebe 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. Fela and food: how Lagos restaurants are serving up the music star’s legacy – https://theconversation.com/fela-and-food-how-lagos-restaurants-are-serving-up-the-music-stars-legacy-262994

Investing that protects people and the planet is growing: new study maps the progress in South Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Kara Nel, Contract lecturer in Business Management, Stellenbosch University

Institutional investors who invest on behalf of others are increasingly considering environmental conservation and safe working conditions as investment criteria.

Sustainable investment has gained momentum in the last 20 years as asset managers – people who manage the day-to-day activities of institutional investors – have accepted the need to include sustainability criteria in their decision-making. In particular environmental, social and governance factors.

A study done in 2023 in North America, Europe and Asia reported that 80% of asset managers had sustainable investment policies. Five years earlier it was only 20%.

In South Africa, this trend has been particularly marked since 2011 following changes to pension fund legislation. The amendments require pension funds to take environmental, social and governance issues into account in their investment decisions.

Nevertheless, the momentum of investment decisions based on sustainability criteria has been slower in South Africa compared with other countries.

As part of my PhD research, I investigated the views of 26 asset managers about sustainable investing. I asked them to define what corporate social responsibility meant to them.

They identified specific corporate social responsibility practices they focus on. Human rights and stakeholder relationships were the most prominent. Most interviewees (15 of the 26) believed that the companies they invest in should have sound sustainability practices.

The research also highlighted a number of barriers to asset managers applying sustainability criteria. These included the fact that the South African equity market is quite small, and shrinking as the number of companies delisting from the Johannesburg Stock Exchange grows. There are therefore fewer companies to invest in. There is also limited client demand for such investments.

These barriers make it harder for investors to make a significant social investment impact.

Sustainable investment matters because asset managers control vast amounts of capital. In the absence of suitable impact-oriented investment opportunities, capital can’t be directed to solving pressing problems. These include poverty, inequality and climate change.

The barriers

The interviewees said it was challenging to integrate corporate social responsibility practices into institutional investment decision-making. They listed a number of reasons.

Seven commented that the local equity market was too small to make a significant social investment impact.

One interviewee said that if, for example, an asset manager wanted to build a fund with only environmental performers, it was not possible, since

you are not exactly spoiled for choice.

The already limited local investable market continues to shrink. Companies are delisting at a disconcerting rate. This means that there are limited sustainability-focused investment opportunities in the country.

Another challenge is low client demand for sustainable investment products. The interviewees mentioned that a limited number of asset owners and beneficiaries are requesting such products.

In addition, many companies don’t provide sufficient data on their sustainability practices. This makes it difficult for corporate role-players to make informed decisions.

Another complicating factor is that there isn’t consistency among data providers on how sustainability performance of companies should be measured. In South Africa this is further complicated by unique aspects of the country’s laws. For example, interviewees mentioned that popular global environmental, social and governance databases didn’t take into account broad-based black economic empowerment legislation. This was introduced after the end of apartheid to improve economic transformation and inclusion.

What needs to happen

Education is key to ensure real impact. Fund managers and their clients should thus be better informed about sustainable investing.

Here the Association for Savings and Investment South Africa could play an important role. This association aims to ensure that savings and investment in the country remain relevant and sustainable. Workshops and resources are provided to various role-players in the investment process.

In addition, having consistent, country-specific metrics for sustainability would make it easier to evaluate and compare companies. Some of the interviewees thought that the Johannesburg Stock Exchange 2022 Sustainability Disclosure Guidance was a step in the right direction. The document provides a step-by-step guide to get companies going in their sustainability reporting. It’s also designed to help locally listed companies clarify current global best practices. An example is climate-related disclosures.

Reporting standards put out in 2023 by the International Sustainability Standards Board have been another important development. These include requirements for sustainability-related financial information and climate-related initiatives.

The standards encourage more consistent, complete, comparable and verifiable information about sustainability-related risks and opportunities.

Another useful intervention would be the development of a social impact metric. This could include country-specific social considerations. A local example would be including broad-based black economic empowerment when measuring social impact.

In our view the focus for South African asset managers should be on investments that align with sustainable development. These include investing in infrastructure projects that address pressing challenges. Unemployment is one example.

Fund managers should also take advantage of tools like the Responsible Investment and Ownership guide. This provides actionable steps to improve responsible investment practices.

These resources can help asset managers integrate corporate sustainability into their decision-making. They can also be used to educate clients on the benefits of sustainable investing.

The Conversation

Kara Nel was supported by a doctoral scholarship from Stellenbosch University’ Graduate School of Economic and Management Sciences (GEM) as well as partial funding from the Banking Sector Education and Training Authority (Bankseta). The funders had no role in the study design, data collection and analysis.

Nadia Mans-Kemp is a Y-rated researcher that received funding from the National Research Foundation (2021-2026).

Pierre Erasmus received funding from the NRF (2011-2017).

ref. Investing that protects people and the planet is growing: new study maps the progress in South Africa – https://theconversation.com/investing-that-protects-people-and-the-planet-is-growing-new-study-maps-the-progress-in-south-africa-248022

Succès Masra: how Chad’s opposition firebrand came to be sentenced to 20 years in prison

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Bourdjolbo Tchoudiba, Doctorant en Sciences Politiques-Université Paris-Est Créteil, Laboratoire Interdisciplinaire d’Études du Politique Hannah Arendt (LIPHA), Université Paris-Est Créteil Val de Marne (UPEC)

Chad’s opposition firebrand and a former prime minister, Succès Masra, was sentenced to 20 years in prison on 9 August. He was accused of inciting violence and hate speech on social media, leading to the death of 42 people in a clash between herders and farmers in the village of Mandakao in 2023.

The opposition leader had been arrested at his home on 16 May by men in military uniform. He was initially charged with “inciting hatred, inciting armed groups to revolt, complicity in murder, arson, and desecration of graves”.

Masra rose to prominence as one of the main opponents of the Chadian regime, particularly after the death of President Idriss Déby in 2021. For many, Masra embodies an alternative to the country’s political-military dynasties, especially the Déby family, who has ruled the country since Idriss Déby came to power in 1990.

When he died, his son, military officer Mahamat Idriss Déby, became president after assuming power and forming a three-year transitional government overseen by the military. Masra served as prime minister of this government from 1 January 2024 to 16 May 2025.




Read more:
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As a researcher who has studied the country’s political trajectory, I have observed how Masra, leader of Les Transformateurs (The Transformers) party, quickly gained influence after entering the Chadian political scene in 2018. His reformist message resonated with many young Chadians, especially unemployed graduates seeking change.

Political strategist

Masra’s strengths lie in his clear programme of political change and strategic approach to building a political base as well as his maturity, despite being only 41. He holds a doctorate in economics, which adds to his credibility. His resignation from the African Development Bank to fully commit to the fight for political change struck a chord with many.

In a remarkably short time, Masra managed to shift the political landscape by challenging Idriss Déby directly. Fearing electoral defeat, Déby pushed through a constitutional amendment in 2018 that changed the age limit for presidential candidates, blocking Masra from running in the 2021 election. His party was also banned for a time for the same reason.

It was under the transitional government of Mahamat Idriss Déby that Masra’s party was officially recognised on 8 June 2021. It soon became Chad’s main opposition. Masra, along with several civil society groups, rejected the transition model in Chad. They boycotted the national dialogue. In their view, it was not a genuine dialogue but a “monologue”. They believed its real purpose was to legitimise the Déby family’s dynastic succession and ensure the continued rule of their Mouvement patriotique du salut (Patriotic Movement for Salvation).

The boycott’s most dramatic moment was the peaceful protest of 20 October 2022, called by Masra to oppose extending the transition. It was violently suppressed, leaving many dead.

Exile and return

To save their lives, Masra and his close associates were forced into exile to the US at the end of 2022. He returned to Chad on 3 November 2023, under a reconciliation deal. Mahamat Idriss Déby appointed him prime minister on 1 January 2024.

With his return and appointment, Les Transformateurs’ political stance shifted dramatically towards supporting the government. Despite this, Masra retained the loyalty of his supporters. However, his short tenure as prime minister was marked by growing tensions with the government, often aired through public statements.

Detention

On 21 May, Masra was formally charged after five days in police custody. During his interrogation, a pro-government outlet claimed he was part of a plot against the state. The claim was based on information allegedly found on his phone, including exchanges with French officials and President Emmanuel Macron. It is extremely rare in Chad for a former prime minister to face such action, suggesting underlying political motives.




Read more:
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Shortly after his arrest, Chad’s public prosecutor publicly accused Masra of inciting hatred, complicity in murder, and forming armed groups. He cited social media messages allegedly urging people in southern Chad to arm themselves against herder communities. These charges relate to a deadly farmer-herder conflict that left 42 dead and caused major damage, mostly among the Fulani community.

Meanwhile, at a press conference three government ministers said an audio message in Ngambaye, Masra’s native language, was linked to him. According to them, the recording directly urged the killing of Fulani herders in their camp.

Audio recording

This accusation was made without independent investigation. The government’s message was amplified by ruling party heavyweights on social media and in politically and ethnically charged WhatsApp groups. The rapid developments gave the impression of a judicial system being weaponised. Many Chadians already see the judiciary as a tool of the military regime.

According to Masra’s lawyers, the audio presented as evidence dates back to 2023. The authenticated 2023 recording captures Masra, in exile, urging the Ngambaye people to arm themselves and defend their community against herder attacks on farmers.

Masra is not the first politician to call for self-defence in Chad. Rising intercommunal violence is widespread, fuelled by social injustice, impunity and insecurity.




Read more:
Idriss Déby Itno offered Chadians great hope, but ended up leaving a terrible legacy


Chadian criminal law guarantees the presumption of innocence and the right to legal counsel from the preliminary investigation stage. Yet no such process was followed for Masra. At the same time, government communications targeting him multiplied.

Officials took the unusual step of leaking unverified “evidence” (the audio) while the investigation was still underway, a clear breach of procedure.

During the seventh anniversary of Les Transformateurs, Masra publicly urged Mahamat Idriss Déby to “change course and deliver the change the people demand”.

The Toumaï Agreement

A striking revelation from that anniversary event was the existence of another deal, known as the Toumaï Agreement between the government and Masra’s political party, meant to end the political crisis in Chad. This was in addition to the Kinshasa Accord.

Masra’s lawyers argued that the Toumaï Agreement should protect Masra from prosecution as it lifted an international arrest warrant against him. The ruling party’s strong reaction to the agreement being disclosed suggests a deeper political rift.

Many of Masra’s supporters, opposition parties and civil society organisations believe the trial was aimed at neutralising him both politically and physically.

The Conversation

Bourdjolbo Tchoudiba 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. Succès Masra: how Chad’s opposition firebrand came to be sentenced to 20 years in prison – https://theconversation.com/succes-masra-how-chads-opposition-firebrand-came-to-be-sentenced-to-20-years-in-prison-262985

Kenya’s 1950 Kolloa massacre: Britain won’t own up to its colonial violence but communities need closure

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Chloé Josse-Durand, Senior Research Associate in African Politics, Newcastle University

In 1950, British forces killed at least 29 civilians in one of the deadliest, but least chronicled, episodes of colonial violence in Kenya.

Armed soldiers killed at least 29 civilian members of Dini ya Msambwa, a spiritual and anti-colonial movement in Kenya active around what is now West Pokot county in the north-western region. Survivors describe the group’s gathering on 24 April 1950 as a peaceful one. However, British colonial forces, fearing a potential uprising, violently confronted the group at the Kolloa trading centre.

It led to one of the highest number of deaths in a single day in a single place in Kenya’s colonial period.

For the surviving families and followers of Dini ya Msambwa (the “religion of the spirits” in Kiswahili), it was a massacre. However, the British government has never publicly apologised for this atrocity.

The movement’s adherents continue to seek justice and recognition, but they face legal, political and historical roadblocks.

I am part of a team at Newcastle University working on Afterlives of Colonial Incarceration, a project focused on former British colonies. I’ve been working closely with communities affected by colonial violence in Kenya, including Dini ya Msambwa adherents.

In my view, Britain’s recognition of the Kolloa massacre isn’t just a matter of historical record. It is about acknowledging that the group’s pain is real, their loss unjust and their struggle worth remembering.

To acknowledge Kolloa as a massacre would open the door to legal and moral accountability from the British government. This would help Dini Ya Msambwa followers affirm the legitimacy of their historical grievances and their place in Kenya’s national story.

Crucially, it could also lay the groundwork for reparations, which could include financial compensation for surviving families, and the restitution of confiscated land and livestock.

The British government remains silent on the massacre. But this doesn’t erase memory. Dini ya Msambwa followers and representatives and historians are working to ensure that Kolloa – like so many forgotten chapters of colonial violence in Africa and beyond – is not buried with the last of its survivors.

The group’s origins

Dini ya Msambwa was founded in the 1940s by Elijah Masinde among the Bukusu people of western Kenya. The movement rejected colonial authority, resisted Christian missionary dominance and called for a return to African spirituality and traditions.

This combination of cultural pride and political defiance made it a target for suppression by British authorities.

Lukas Pkech, a prominent Pokot leader, brought Masinde’s preachings to West Suk and Baringo in the British-administered north-west region in 1950. His teachings were increasingly influential among Pokot communities and were seen as a direct challenge to colonial order.

British district commissioner Arthur Simpsons, along with a contingent of tribal police and British officers led by Alan Stevens, moved to quell the movement and most likely to kill its leader. What followed was a fatal confrontation in Kolloa: over 300 Dini ya Msambwa followers, armed mainly with spears, faced off with colonial security forces in what came to be called the Kolloa Affray.

Pkech and at least 28 followers were killed, along with Stevens, two other British nationals and an African askari (soldier). Oral testimonies suggest that between 44 and 50 people were killed – 29 during the event itself, and 15 to 20 others later succumbing to wounds sustained in the fighting. At least 176 Dini ya Msambwa members present at the standoff were imprisoned. Seven of them were executed for their direct involvement.

This event led to increased repression of Pokot communities and suspected Dini ya Msambwa leaders and followers.

The colonial administration confiscated over 5,600 cattle and deployed a special police force in the region. Residents were forced into hard labour on district roads as part of communal punishment. Hundreds of adherents were thrown into colonial jails and detention camps near the district administrative centre, Kapenguria.

The exact number of Dini ya Msambwa followers today is hard to assess as many choose to remain discreet for their own safety. However, the growing visibility of branches like Dini ya Roho Mafuta Pole ya Africa (African Religion of the Gently Anointing Spirit) indicates the movement’s enduring significance in Pokot society.

Dini ya Roho attracts approximately 4,000 members weekly for worship and yearly for Kolloa commemorations. In the church’s doctrine, the deaths at Kolloa are reinterpreted as a selfless act of sacrifice in fulfilment of peace for the community. Since its official registration in 2012, the church has gained growing influence.

Silencing through legal reform

In 2013, the UK government issued a formal apology and paid £19.9 million (US$26.5 million) in compensation to 5,228 Mau Mau veterans. The compensation was related to Britain’s brutal suppression of the Mau Mau uprising (1952–1960), also known as the “Kenya Emergency”. This was a large-scale anti-colonial rebellion during which more than 150,000 Kenyans were detained without trial in a vast system of camps and fenced villages. Here, torture, forced labour and systematic abuse were widespread.

The Mau Mau case secured an official apology and compensation for colonial-era torture. It also demonstrated that legal redress for historical injustices was possible.

Yet, it was also a strategic concession by the UK government.

It was limited in scope, restricted to a specific group (those tortured during the Emergency), and designed to avoid setting a broad legal precedent.

Since then, the UK has enacted a new law – the Overseas Operations Act – that imposes strict legal limits on claims related to the actions of British troops abroad, effectively barring historical claims.

Worse still, under the legal doctrine known as divisibility of the Crown, claimants must prove that abuses were ordered by the UK government in London, not just carried out by colonial administrators.

In the case of Kolloa, where documentation is sparse and most evidence comes from oral testimonies, this is an almost impossible task.

Further, unlike the Mau Mau case, which gained global attention, Kolloa has remained largely absent from mainstream narratives. The Kenyan government has lacked political will to put pressure on Britain and has itself seen the movement as dangerous. It remained banned until 2012, after the new constitution strengthened protections for freedom of religion and beliefs.

Without strong advocacy from the Kenyan state, Britain has no diplomatic incentive to revisit or acknowledge Kolloa.

Is there still hope for justice?

One promising path is international litigation. In 2022, the Talai clan from Kenya’s Nandi and Kipsigis communities – themselves victims of colonial brutality – brought a case against the UK at the European Court of Human Rights. Their efforts could set a precedent for groups like Dini ya Msambwa seeking redress beyond British courts.

Back home, Kenya’s devolved county government of West Pokot has also given representatives from the church more freedom to speak openly. While the group remains cautious about challenging the national government directly, there’s a growing movement for memorialisation, truth telling and intergenerational dialogue.

For Dini ya Msambwa, the fight is about more than financial compensation. It is about being seen, heard and remembered. The group’s struggle touches on deeper questions of dignity, memory and the right to practise their faith with pride instead of fear and resentment.

The Conversation

Chloé Josse-Durand receives funding from Newcastle University and the Leverhulme Trust.

ref. Kenya’s 1950 Kolloa massacre: Britain won’t own up to its colonial violence but communities need closure – https://theconversation.com/kenyas-1950-kolloa-massacre-britain-wont-own-up-to-its-colonial-violence-but-communities-need-closure-262133

How hot is your home? Nigerian study explores comfort levels in buildings

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Mak Okay-Ikenegbu, Researcher, University of Portsmouth

Global standards for heating comfort are largely based on cooler, northern hemisphere climates. How relevant are these benchmarks in low-cost housing in warmer African regions?

Mak Okay-Ikenegbu did his doctoral research on thermal comfort in low-cost housing for warm and humid climates in Nigeria. His research showed that people in tropical environments can withstand higher temperatures than current global standards assume. The findings open the door to affordable housing designs that are climate-appropriate, without relying on energy-intensive solutions like air conditioning. He told us about his research.

How do you define comfortable housing for people in tropical Africa?

Comfortable housing in the tropics is housing that allows people to live, work and rest without experiencing excessive heat or discomfort. This can be without air conditioning as well. It supports well-being by allowing natural ventilation, reducing heat build-up and adapting to local climate conditions.

It is housing that keeps people thermally comfortable using passive design techniques such as cross-ventilation, shading and use of breathable materials. These materials can be adobe, earth blocks, or bamboo, which reduce indoor heat.

What did you find out about people’s housing needs?

My research found that people in low-income, tropical settings like informal settlements in Nigeria adapt to higher indoor temperatures than international standards suggest.

I developed a local thermal comfort model based on real-life experiences of people living in naturally ventilated earth and makeshift homes in Nigeria. My data came from low-income residents in low-cost homes.

This model is unique to the study context, as it directly reflects the comfort responses of people living in this environment. Adaptive thermal comfort models have been developed before, for example, the American ASHRAE 55 model and the European EN 16798 model. These are based primarily on data from temperate climates and mechanically cooled buildings.

Models like this are scarce for sub-Saharan Africa, particularly in the context of low-income or informal housing. This model has potential application for design and policy. It can inform architects, urban planners and housing authorities on how to design buildings that align with how people actually experience and adapt to heat.

This is crucial for creating affordable, climate-responsive housing that doesn’t depend on expensive mechanical cooling systems. It shows that people in tropical climates are comfortable at higher indoor temperatures than the international comfort standards suggest.

What does better housing look like in these conditions?

Affordable, climate-responsive housing solutions use local and thermally appropriate materials.

In my research, earth-based construction materials like mud or adobe walls were found to be more comfortable than materials such as scrap metal, timber planks and plastics. In earth-based housing such as those built with adobe or compressed earth blocks, indoor temperatures typically ranged from 20°C to 43°C. In contrast, in makeshift housing, often constructed from materials like corrugated metal sheets and tarpaulin, the temperatures were even higher, ranging from 25°C to 47°C.

This shows that makeshift structures tend to trap more heat and expose occupants to more extreme indoor conditions. The findings highlight the importance of building material choice and passive design in helping to reduce indoor heat and improve comfort, especially in settings without access to mechanical cooling.

I didn’t test the thermal performance of specific materials, but based on previous studies, materials like adobe or compressed earth blocks are known to offer natural insulation and reduce heat gain.

Corrugated metal roofs, which are common in low-income tropical informal settlements, often trap heat. So, incorporating insulation and ventilation beneath roofing can make a significant difference at very low cost.

Combining passive design strategies like shaded outdoor spaces, high ceilings, wide eaves, and cross-ventilation with materials that are affordable and climate-appropriate would help achieve better comfort.

What is significant or new about your findings?

My findings highlight the limitations of applying international comfort standards like ASHRAE 55 and EN 16798 in tropical climates. These standards were developed by organisations in the United States and Europe.

ASHRAE 55 is from the American Society of Heating, Refrigerating and Air-Conditioning Engineers, and EN 16798 is from the European Committee for Standardisation. They set out detailed guidelines for what indoor temperature are considered comfortable based on studies mostly from cooler climates and mechanically cooled buildings.

I found that many of the indoor temperatures that international standards would label as “too hot” were actually considered fine by residents. This was done by creating a comfort guide based on how people in the local area experience heat in their homes.

Based on the European standard, depending on outdoor conditions, comfortable indoor temperatures are expected to fall between 22°C and 32°C in the buildings surveyed in this study. The American standard shows a narrower range of approximately 23°C to 29°C. But the model or guideline developed in this study, based on actual feedback from residents in low-income homes in Nigeria, showed that people were comfortable at higher temperatures than those predicted by the international standards.

In this local context, comfort temperatures ranged from 24°C to 40°C, reflecting a greater tolerance for heat. This higher threshold suggests that people living in tropical climates, particularly in naturally ventilated and informally built homes, have adapted to their environment in ways that global models do not fully account for.

This matters because it affects how we design, build and improve low-cost housing in hot climates. If we rely only on international standards, we risk pushing for expensive cooling systems like air conditioning in order to meet recommended indoor conditions. Simpler, low-cost solutions based on how people actually adapt to heat could work just as well, or even better.

What policies or interventions can make this feasible?

Local adaptive comfort standards do not exist for sub-Saharan African contexts like Nigeria. Housing policies should therefore recognise the value of local comfort models and not impose global standards. Governments and other local stakeholders should allow and promote context-specific benchmarks when designing or delivering affordable housing schemes.

Building codes, urban development policies and political interventions should encourage residents and builders to adopt passive design techniques. These can be shading and ventilation, for example. Interventions must support the use of local, sustainable materials that perform well in hot, humid climates.

Investment is needed in community-led housing upgrades, especially in informal settlements. Even small improvements to insulation or adding windows for cross-ventilation can greatly improve comfort without incurring major costs.

The Conversation

Mak Okay-Ikenegbu 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. How hot is your home? Nigerian study explores comfort levels in buildings – https://theconversation.com/how-hot-is-your-home-nigerian-study-explores-comfort-levels-in-buildings-262060

South Sudan’s new chief justice has a chance to reform the judiciary – if he’s allowed to do his job

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Mark Deng, McKenzie Postdoctoral Research Fellow, The University of Melbourne

South Sudan’s chief justice, Chan Reec Madut, was sacked in late May 2025 after more than 13 years on the bench. Madut leaves behind a legacy of inefficiency and accusations of judicial graft. But the sacking violated South Sudan’s 2011 transitional constitution and the law. Ultimately, the president’s decision threatens the rule of law and judicial independence. Constitutional scholar Mark Deng discusses this worrying development.

What was envisaged for South Sudan’s post-independence judiciary?

South Sudan won independent statehood following an internationally supervised referendum in 2011. The transitional constitution, drafted after the referendum, is the country’s founding law. It provides for the establishment of the three arms of government – legislature, executive and judiciary – with distinct powers and functions. The judiciary exercises judicial power and enforces the rule of law in the country. It has five levels of courts, the Supreme Court of South Sudan being the highest.

To shield courts from political whims, judges are appointed to, and removed from, office by the president of the republic only on the recommendation of the judicial service commission. There are constitutional grounds for removing a judge, relating to gross misconduct or incompetence or mental infirmity. Subject to these grounds and others, a judge may serve until the age of 70.

The chief justice is the head of the judiciary of South Sudan. His responsibilities include administering and supervising lower courts. He has power to issue judicial circulars and directives to lower courts to ensure proper and efficient administration of justice in the country.

What challenges are facing the judiciary?

The judiciary has been facing many challenges that threaten its independence and, by extension, the proper administration of justice. The most notable is political interference.

This has manifested itself in at least two ways. The first is that courts or individual judges face constant threats by the members of the executive branch and the military seeking to get rulings in their favour. For example, a report by the International Commission of Jurists cited a case in which a military general used a threat of force to obtain an outcome favourable to him.

The second is President Salva Kiir’s behaviour towards judges. He has, for example, been sacking judges without following the constitutional procedures that require the judicial service commission to conduct a full and proper investigation before a judge may be removed. This has rendered courts powerless, particularly in relation to enforcing the constitutional limits of power and the rule of law on the political branches of the government.

The sacking of chief justice Madut is the latest and most alarming. It implies that judges serve at the president’s pleasure, much like the government ministers. It also divests the judicial service commission of its constitutional functions.

What’s known about the outgoing chief justice?

Madut had worked as a judge in Sudan prior to South Sudan’s independence in 2011. He also served as the deputy chair of Southern Sudan referendum commission. Kiir appointed him as the chief justice of South Sudan on 15 August 2011, replacing John Wuol Makec.

Madut’s tenure was characterised by corruption through nepotism and favouritism. In 2013, for example, he appointed 78 legal assistants, including his daughter, without following the formal recruitment process.

Perhaps of most concern to many people in South Sudan was Madut’s meddling in purely political matters. In 2015, for example, he wrote a letter to Kiir to congratulate him for expanding the number of states from 10 to 28. The letter was inappropriate for three reasons. First, the creation of the 28 states was a political matter for parliament. Second, it was contentious because the president lacked power to create more states in the country at the time. Third, it was apparent that the president’s decision was going to be challenged in the Supreme Court, over which Madut was presiding.

Indeed, opposition parties challenged it as unconstitutional. Because of his expressed support for the creation of the 28 states, Madut was deemed to have a conflict in the case. Consequently, he was asked to recuse himself from the constitutional panel set up to hear the case but he refused. The majority of the Supreme Court judges upheld the president’s decision.

Kiir did not explain what prompted Madut’s sacking. However, it could be the sum of all these accusations that led to this course of action. Whatever the case, the end result of the president’s sacking of judges unilaterally is the erosion of the rule of law and undermining of judicial independence. In short, it is his will that matters now, not the constitution.

Who is the new chief justice and what is his record?

Benjamin Baak Deng is the new chief justice. Kiir appointed him on 28 May 2025 from within the Supreme Court of South Sudan, on which he was also serving as a judge. He has a PhD in international environmental law and had worked as a judge in Sudan from the 1980s to the early 2000s. Like all the South Sudanese who were working in Sudan, he relocated to Southern Sudan during the interim period (2005–2011).

In June 2022, he was appointed to the judicial reform committee mandated by the 2018 revitalised agreement. The committee was mandated with a comprehensive review of the judiciary and its performance and to recommend measures to address the challenges facing it. It finalised its work in March 2024 and submitted its report (yet to be made public) to the president of the republic. Deng is widely regarded as a man of integrity, competence and hard work.

What are the top priorities for the new chief justice?

There are at least four. The first is to resolve the massive case backlog and improve efficiency in deciding cases. The second is to improve working conditions for judges. This would include ensuring a safe workplace and providing judges with modern work equipment.

The third is to uncompromisingly maintain and protect the independence of the judiciary from the political branches. The former chief justice lost public trust and confidence because of his pandering to the executive government, which he did in the most overt way in some instances.

The challenge is that he will be dealing with the same president who has shown little interest in observing his constitutional limits. But the president spoke during Deng’s swearing-in and pledged his commitment to respecting and protecting the independence of the judiciary:

the judiciary must operate independently and remain free from political interference.

It remains to be seen whether the president will put his words into action this time round.

The final area of immediate focus is addressing the under-representation of women in the judiciary. Of the 117 judges in the country, only 21 are women. Women’s under-representation in the judiciary is largely a product of patriarchy, particularly customary practices that traditionally do not allow women to be in a position of authority and to have access to education.

The transitional constitution and the 2018 revitalised agreement obligate the government to take affirmative action to address gender imbalances. At least 35% must be women in every institution of government in South Sudan. The 21 women judges equate to 18%. There are many young women lawyers or law graduates within and outside South Sudan who could be trained and appointed as judges.

The new chief justice has the opportunity to reform the judiciary into an institution that effectively enforces the rule of law and administers justice impartially and efficiently. However, his success will also depend on the commitment of the government to provide the resources required and the space to exercise independence.

The Conversation

Mark Deng 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 Sudan’s new chief justice has a chance to reform the judiciary – if he’s allowed to do his job – https://theconversation.com/south-sudans-new-chief-justice-has-a-chance-to-reform-the-judiciary-if-hes-allowed-to-do-his-job-262351

Are African countries aware of their own mineral wealth? Ghana and Rwanda offer two very different answers

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Gerald Arhin, Research Fellow in the Political Economy of Climate Compatible Development , UCL

Imagine running a business for over a century without knowing what’s in your warehouse. That’s essentially what many African countries are doing with their mineral wealth. Governments across the continent still have very little knowledge of what lies beneath their soil.

Between the 18th and 20th centuries, European colonial powers exploited African mineral wealth for their industrialisation. Post-independence, many African nations nationalised their mining sectors. International pressure led to privatisation in the 1980s. This weakened the motivation and capacity of governments to develop long-term strategies. They have more incentive to export minerals for foreign exchange in the short term.

As political economists, we have been researching the governance of Ghana’s and Rwanda’s minerals sectors for over a decade. We conducted research into why some African nations are investing more than others in geological investigations. These are studies that examine where minerals can be found and what their economic potential is. We focused on Ghana and Rwanda because of their different levels of commitment to investing in geological investigations.

We found that intense political competition forces Ghanaian governments to have short-term priorities. This makes geological investigations (a long-term, risky venture) unappealing to ruling elites. In contrast, the Rwandan Patriotic Front government has invested in geological surveys over the last decade.

Beyond economic and technical costs, context-specific political dynamics – interests, ideas and power relations – shape the decision to invest in geological mapping.

A mixed search

Ghana is rich in several minerals and is Africa’s largest producer of gold, which is its highest export earner. Minerals generated US$11 billion in revenue in 2024.

The country is also rich in diamonds, manganese and bauxite. It recently discovered lithium in commercial quantities. Lithium is a “critical mineral” for the energy transition and this discovery will be of interest to investors.




Read more:
The world is rushing to Africa to mine critical minerals like lithium – how the continent should deal with the demand


Rwanda is a producer of tin, tantalum and tungsten. It also has commercial deposits of gemstones, silica sands, kaolin, vermiculite, diatomite, clays, limestone and gold.

Policy experts and international organisations often encourage governments to invest in geological mapping of their minerals. This is to enhance greater investment in the sector and boost the country’s gains from its resources. But these investigations are costly and lucrative findings aren’t guaranteed.

Some African governments have limited commitment to investing in geological mapping. Others, such as Uganda, Morocco, Botswana and South Africa, have put resources into it. For example, the Ugandan government announced its intention to expand national geological mapping coverage from 50% to 100%.

Ghana’s lack of geological knowledge

The roots of the knowledge gap stretch back to colonialism. European powers meticulously mapped African minerals, but kept the data for themselves. Today, the British Geological Survey holds over 300,000 geological reports and maps from other countries. Much of it is gathering dust in archives rather than helping African governments understand their own resources.

Even basic geological knowledge often sits in London, Paris or Brussels rather than in Accra, Kigali or Nairobi.

Take Ghana, which has been mining gold for over a century yet still lacks comprehensive geological surveys.

We found that the country’s competitive political system, where power alternates between two main parties almost every eight years, stands in the way of long-term planning. Successive Ghanaian governments have relied on private mining companies to conduct geological investigations. There is limited monitoring of whether investigations are carried out before extracting minerals. This approach has obvious flaws. Firstly, companies may not share all their findings. Secondly, the government doesn’t have control over information about its own resources.

We also found evidence of a darker political calculation. Through licensing, political elites are able to maintain lucrative relationships with mining companies. Comprehensive geological mapping might force more transparent, competitive bidding processes that could disrupt these arrangements. This includes vested political interests extending into the small scale and artisanal mining space.

Rwanda’s different path

Rwanda tells a different story. Since 1994, the governing Rwandan Patriotic Front has increasingly taken control of all aspects of the society. As part of this drive it has developed longer-term ambitions in relation to its development strategies.

The country has chosen to know more about what lies beneath its land and has taken steps to improve its capabilities.

Firstly, it revised its mining law. The Rwandan government had initially invited foreign mining companies to obtain permits on a first come, first served basis. Though permit holders were required to invest in geological investigations before extraction, there was limited monitoring of what firms were doing. This is similar to what was taking place in Ghana.

Secondly, the Rwandan government even established its own mining company, Ngali Mining, to invest directly in exploration.

Thirdly, it has attracted investment in geological surveys, with some support from donors. In this way, it directly employs geological investigation firms rather than relying on mining firms to invest in investigations themselves.

The results are impressive: between 2012 and 2016, the government attracted four different sets of North American and European firms to conduct extensive mapping studies.

Fourth, as a result of these surveys, the government re-categorised existing mining areas into 52 separate areas for mineral exploration. As a result, the Rwandan government now attracts investment to these areas because there is more understanding of which minerals exist there.

It’s important to note that Rwanda imports many of its minerals from neighbouring Democratic Republic of Congo and then re-exports them. Importing and re-exporting DRC minerals earns Rwanda immediate foreign exchange earnings. This is particularly evident in rising Rwandan gold exports in recent years. Thus, even where governments may be keen to invest in geological investigations, when other short-term priorities exist it is less easy to sustain long-horizon goals in domestic mining sectors.

Breaking the knowledge barrier

The global demand for minerals is soaring.

This has made developing comprehensive knowledge of underground resources more urgent for African countries. However, our research suggests that simply throwing more money at geological surveys won’t reorganise domestic minerals sectors if political incentives favour short-term interests.

Understanding the political dynamics is the first step towards unlocking Africa’s mineral potential. Only by learning more about the power structures that shape these decisions can countries begin to map their way to more sustainable mineral wealth.

The Conversation

Gerald Arhin is currently a Research Fellow in the Political Economy of Climate Compatible Development at University College London (UCL) where he works on the FCDO funded Climate Compatible Growth (CCG) project.

Pritish Behuria is currently a recipient of a British Academy Mid-Career Fellowship Grant (MFSS24/240043).

ref. Are African countries aware of their own mineral wealth? Ghana and Rwanda offer two very different answers – https://theconversation.com/are-african-countries-aware-of-their-own-mineral-wealth-ghana-and-rwanda-offer-two-very-different-answers-261703

South Africa’s earliest newspapers made money from slavery: book offers new evidence

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Gawie Botma, Associate Professor of Journalism, Stellenbosch University

In a recently published book, Reconsidering the History of South African Journalism: The Ghost of the Slave Press (2025 Routledge), author and journalism professor Gawie Botma explores the gap in the country’s understanding about the complicity of South African journalism in slavery. He spoke to The Conversation about what he found.

Slavery and journalism: what’s the connection?

In the US and Britain a few newspapers have issued apologies for their complicity in the slave trade. These include the Hartford Courant in Connecticut, considered to be the oldest continuously published publication in the US. In 2000 it apologised for its complicity in the slave trade nearly two centuries earlier. In 2023 The Guardian in the UK apologised for the fact that its founders had had links to the transatlantic slave trade.

The South African media have remained silent about their historical role in Cape slavery. Slavery in the country lasted for more than 170 years between 1652 and 1838. Precise numbers are difficult to calculate. But according to the historian Robert Shell, approximately 63,000 enslaved people were imported to the Cape from four main areas: the rest of Africa (26.4%), India (25.9%), Indonesia (22.7%) and Madagascar (25.1%). In 1838 around 37,000 were emancipated.

The first newspaper in the Cape colony – including parts of what are now the Western and Eastern Cape provinces – appeared in Cape Town four decades before slavery was abolished in 1838. No other publishing activities existed in what is now South Africa. The Cape, then a colony of the British Empire, was the only formal European settlement and only a few printing presses operated at scattered mission stations in the interior of southern Africa.

What I found during my research was the sobering fact that several of the owners, editors, publishers and printers of around 16 early newspapers and magazines between 1800 and 1838 were slave owners themselves. In addition, the publications they were involved with regularly published advertisements and notices to enable the slave trade as well as to recapture enslaved people who absconded.

These facts are omitted or under-emphasised in academic and popular accounts of how South African journalism was founded. Instead, the focus is often on the establishment of press freedom through the heroic efforts of a few white (British) men.

Who were the early players in the newspaper space?

British slave traders Alexander Walker and John Robertson founded the first newspaper, The Cape Town Gazette and African Advertiser / Kaapsche Stads Courant en Afrikaansche Berigter (CTG/KSC), in 1800. Acccording to historian A.C.G. Lloyd in his book The Birth of Printing in South Africa, Walker and Robertson were

men of many interests, who in addition to being wholesale merchants on a large scale, were slave-dealers dealing in as many as six hundred slaves in a single consignment.

The public received their first copies on Saturday 16 August 1800. Separate, identical editions in English and Dutch were produced. Even the advertisements were translated. The format, which became a template for future newspapers, was a mixture of official government news, commercial advertising and public announcements, with snippets of international and local news. Enslaved persons worked as assistants of the press.

Twenty-four years later the second paper, The South African Commercial Advertiser, was founded under the editorship of immigrants George Greig, Thomas Pringle and John Fairbairn. Pringle and Fairbairn displayed entrepreneurship as well as idealism about the role of the press. As part of this they rather gradually positioned themselves against slavery.

Opposition to “liberal” ideas inspired the founding of De Zuid-Afrikaan in 1830. The newspaper reported in detail about slavery from the perspective of slave owners. Several prominent individuals involved with this newspaper were the owners of multiple enslaved people. These included the editor (after emancipation) Christoffel J. Brand. After he retired from the editorship in 1845, he became the first speaker of the Cape parliament in 1854 and was later awarded a British knighthood.

The printed press’s relationship with slavery

South African media historiography often cites The South African Commercial Advertiser as the first journalistic enterprise in the country. It also positions the paper as being a “liberal champion” of its time.

But on close inspection this newspaper’s positioning towards slavery is much more complex.

My research shows that the paper actively contributed to the slave trade by allowing the publication of slave advertisements from the start. It continued to do so until slavery was abolished in 1838. The founding owner and editor/printer Greig owned at least one enslaved person.

In the telling of the history of the time, comparisons are made between the first two endeavours. On the one hand CTG/KSC is more generally described as being an outlier as “a slave press” founded by a few “bad apples”. The South African Commercial Advertiser is positioned as being a liberal champion of the “free press” and founder of South African journalism.

Media historian Wessel de Kock in his book on the origins of the South African press makes this comment:

What manner of free press would have emerged from the grubby commercialism of Walker and Robertson instead of the fiery idealism of Pringle and Fairbairn remains an intriguing question.

But should the “grubby commercialism” of CTG/KSC be regarded as an outlier in the history of the early colonial press? Or did it set a trend which was followed by contemporaries and influenced the development of South African newspapers for decades and perhaps even centuries to come?

The old dictum that the press promotes the views of those who own and support it was as true during slavery and apartheid as it is now.

Past evaluations of De Zuid-Afrikaan as one-sidedly reactionary should probably also be revisited.

For one, slave ownership also existed among other English newspaper pioneers like William Bridekirk, printer and editor of several publications, including The South African Chronicle and Mercantile Advertiser, and Louis Henri Meurant, founder of The Graham’s Town Journal, the first newspaper outside Cape Town.

This too has been largely ignored in established journalism history as the focus for involvement in slavery often remained on the “conservative” Cape Dutch.

The result is that a simple dualistic view of South African newspaper history has been passed down. The two poles are then seen as representative of respectively Afrikaans and English journalism as it developed in the 19th and 20th centuries.

What’s the legacy?

Some elements in the developing press in the Cape colony certainly played a role in the demise of slavery by frequently publishing government announcements, news, editorial and readers’ comments about slavery. They enabled a public debate and the development of a measure of consensus that slavery should be abolished.

Nevertheless, all the papers made compromises as they juggled interests, including political and economic factors. These decisions often worked against liberation. In that case the press was often following and not leading the momentum towards greater civic freedoms.

This was generated elsewhere, such as in the British parliament where the campaign to abolish slavery finally succeeded after decades of struggle.

The Conversation

Gawie Botma 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 earliest newspapers made money from slavery: book offers new evidence – https://theconversation.com/south-africas-earliest-newspapers-made-money-from-slavery-book-offers-new-evidence-262376

The science of starvation: this is what happens to your body when it’s deprived of food

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Ola Anabtawi, Assistant Professor Department of Nutrition and Food Technology, An-Najah National University

Hunger exists on a spectrum. On the one end is food insecurity, where people are forced to adjust to fewer meals. As food becomes scarce, the body consumes its own reserves. The journey from hunger to starvation starts with a drop in energy levels, then the body breaks down fat, then muscle. Eventually, critical organs begin to fail.

From undernourishment, to acute malnutrition and finally starvation, the process reaches a point where the body can no longer sustain life. In Gaza today, thousands of children under five and pregnant or lactating women are experiencing acute malnutrition. In Sudan, conflict and restricted humanitarian access have pushed millions to the brink of starvation, with famine warnings growing more urgent by the day.

We asked nutritionists Ola Anabtawi and Berta Valente to explain the science behind starvation and what happens to your body when it’s deprived of food.

What is the minimum nutrition a body needs to survive?

To survive, people need more than clean water and safety. Access to food that meets daily energy, macronutrient and micronutrient requirements is essential to preserve health, support recovery and prevent malnutrition.

According to the World Health Organization (WHO), adults require different amounts of energy depending on age, sex and level of physical activity.
A kilocalorie (kcal) is a measure of energy. In nutrition, it tells us how much energy a person gets from food or how much energy the body needs to function. Technically, one kilocalorie is the amount of energy needed to raise the temperature of one kilogram of water by one degree Celsius. The body uses this energy to breathe, digest food, maintain body temperature, and – especially in children – to grow.

Total energy needs come from three sources:

  • resting energy expenditure: the energy used by the body at rest to maintain vital functions such as breathing and circulation

  • physical activity: may vary during emergencies depending on factors like displacement, caregiving, or survival tasks

  • thermogenesis: the energy used to digest and process food.

Resting energy expenditure usually forms the biggest portion of energy needs, especially when physical activity is limited. Other factors including age, sex, body size, health status, pregnancy, or cold environments also influence how much energy a person requires.

Energy needs vary throughout life. Infants require approximately 95kcal to 108kcal per kilogram of body weight per day during the first six months and between 84kcal and 98kcal per kilogram from six to 12 months. For children under the age of ten, energy needs are based on normal growth patterns without distinction between boys and girls.

For example, a two-year-old child typically requires about 1,000kcal to 1,200kcal daily. A five-year-old needs about 1,300 to 1,500 and a ten-year-old generally requires between 1,800 and 2,000 kilocalories per day. From age ten onward, energy requirements begin to differ between boys and girls due to variations in growth and activity, and allowances are adjusted based on body weight, physical activity and rate of growth.

For adults with light to moderate physical activity, the average daily energy requirement for men aged 19 to 50 is about 2,900kcal, while women in the same age group require roughly 2,200kcal per day. These values include a range of plus or minus 20% to account for individual differences in metabolism and activity. For adults over 50 years, energy needs decrease slightly, with men requiring about 2,300kcal and women around 1,900kcal daily.

In humanitarian emergencies, food aid provision needs to guarantee the widely accepted minimum energy intake to maintain basic health and function, which was set to 2,100kcal per person per day. This level aims to meet fundamental physiological needs and prevent malnutrition when food supply is limited.

This energy must come from a balance of macronutrients, with carbohydrates supplying 50%-60% (such as rice or bread), proteins 10%-35% (like beans or lean meat), and fats 20%-35% (for example, cooking oil or nuts).

Fat requirements are higher for young children (30%-40%), as well as for pregnant and breastfeeding women (at least 20%).

In addition to energy, the body requires vitamins and minerals, such as iron, vitamin A, iodine and zinc, which are critical for immune function, growth and brain development. Iron is found in foods like red meat, beans and fortified cereals. Vitamin A comes from carrots, sweet potatoes and dark leafy greens. Iodine is commonly obtained from iodised salt and seafood. Zinc is present in meat, nuts and whole grains.

When food systems collapse, this balance is lost.

What physically happens when your body is starved?

Physiologically, the effects of starvation on the human body unfold in three overlapping stages. Each reflects the body’s effort to survive without food. But these adaptations come at great physiological cost.

In the first stage, which lasts up to 48 hours after food intake stops, the body draws on glycogen stored in the liver to keep blood sugar levels stable.

This process, called glycogenolysis, is a short-term solution. When glycogen runs out, the second stage begins.

The body shifts to gluconeogenesis, producing glucose from non-carbohydrate sources like amino acids (from muscle), glycerol (from fat), and lactate. This process fuels vital organs but results in muscle breakdown and increased nitrogen loss, especially from skeletal muscle.

By day three, ketogenesis becomes the dominant process. The liver starts converting fatty acids into ketone bodies – molecules derived from fat that serve as an alternative fuel source when glucose is scarce. These ketones are used by the brain and other organs for energy. This shift helps spare muscle tissue but also signals a deeper metabolic crisis.

Hormonal changes – including reduced insulin, thyroid hormone (T3), and nervous system activity – slow the metabolic rate to conserve energy. Over time, fat becomes the main energy source. But once fat stores are exhausted, the body is forced to break down its own proteins for energy. This accelerates muscle wasting, weakens the immune system, and increases the risk of deadly infections.

Death, often from pneumonia or other complications, typically occurs after 60 to 70 days without food in an otherwise healthy adult.

As the body enters prolonged nutrient deprivation, the visible and invisible signs of starvation intensify. Physically, individuals lose substantial weight, and experience muscle wasting, fatigue, slowed heart rate, dry skin, hair loss, and compromised wound healing. Immune defences weaken, increasing vulnerability to infections, particularly pneumonia – a frequent cause of death in starvation.

Psychologically, starvation creates profound distress. People report apathy, irritability, anxiety and a constant preoccupation with food. Cognitive abilities decline, and emotional regulation deteriorates, sometimes leading to depression or withdrawal.

In children, long-term effects include stunted growth and impaired brain development. Both can become irreversible.

During starvation, the body adapts in stages to survive. Initially, it uses glycogen storage for energy. As starvation continues, it begins to break down fat, and eventually, muscle tissue. This gradual shift explains both the physical weakness and psychological changes like irritability or depression.

But starvation does not stop at the individual. It fractures families and communities. As energy declines, people are unable to care for others or themselves. In humanitarian crises like Gaza and Sudan, starvation compounds the trauma of violence and displacement, creating a total collapse of social and biological resilience.

What are the steps to break the cycle?

After a period of starvation, the body is in a fragile metabolic state. Sudden reintroduction of food, especially carbohydrates, causes a spike in insulin and a rapid shift of electrolytes like phosphate, potassium, and magnesium into cells. This can overwhelm the body, leading to what’s known as refeeding syndrome, which may result in serious complications such as heart failure, respiratory distress, or even death if not carefully managed.

Standard protocols begin with therapeutic milks called F-75, specially designed to stabilise patients during the initial phase of treatment for severe acute malnutrition, followed by ready-to-use therapeutic food, a specially formulated peanut-butter paste or biscuit with the power to bring a malnourished child from the brink of death to full nutritional recovery in just four to eight weeks, oral rehydration salts, and micronutrient powders.

These must be delivered safely. Consistent humanitarian access is essential.

Airdrops are not part of food security. Survival requires sustained, coordinated efforts that restore food systems, protect civilians and uphold humanitarian law. Anything less risks repeating cycles of hunger and harm.

When food assistance falls short in quality or quantity, or when clean water is unavailable, malnutrition rapidly worsens.

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. The science of starvation: this is what happens to your body when it’s deprived of food – https://theconversation.com/the-science-of-starvation-this-is-what-happens-to-your-body-when-its-deprived-of-food-262355