The Conversation – Africa – Page 30

September 7, 2025

South Africa’s small-scale rooibos tea growers aren’t getting much from an industry deal – why it’s not fair

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Rachel Wynberg, Professor and DSTI/NRF SARChI Bio-economy Research Chair, University of Cape Town

A ground-breaking benefit-sharing agreement was signed in 2019 between South Africa’s lucrative rooibos herbal tea industry and two organisations representing Indigenous San and Khoi people.

Indigenous San and Khoi – the oldest known populations of southern Africa – are traditionally hunter-gatherers and pastoralists. Their traditional knowledge also contributed towards the development of the rooibos tea industry.

Today, the commercial rooibos tea industry sells more than 22,000 tons of tea every year and has an annual export value of over US$50 million.

Although apartheid ended in 1994, the rooibos tea industry is still dominated by white-owned companies. These companies benefited from years of subsidies and protection by the apartheid government. Rooibos farmers who were classified as “Coloured” (an apartheid-era race term imposed on indigenous Khoi-San and other ethnically diverse oppressed people of colour) were excluded from the industry during this time.

The 2019 access and benefit-sharing agreement was meant to change that. It is legally binding, and sets out how those who hold traditional knowledge about rooibos will benefit from the industry.

Access and benefit-sharing agreements like this one are governed by global conventions and protocols. The main aim is to stop genetic resources and traditional knowledge from being used in commercial products without consent or compensation for the traditional knowledge holders and resource owners. They also aim to prevent biopiracy. In other words, they aim to strengthen the rights of Indigenous peoples and local communities over their natural resources.

Many national laws now require companies to set up these agreements. In this sense, the 2019 rooibos benefit-sharing agreement was historic because it formally recognised, for the first time, the role of San and Khoi traditional knowledge in the development of the rooibos industry.

We are anthropologists, sociologists, environmental scientists, indigenous heritage practitioners and policy researchers. We’ve carried out decades of participatory action research with small-scale rooibos farmers and other Indigenous groups.

Our research found that the 2019 rooibos agreement has not changed who owns and benefits most from rooibos. Control remains vested in an industry set up during colonialism and apartheid. This is because the white-dominated industry still owns most of the tea lands and cultivates about 93% of rooibos tea today. This allows the same commercial farmers and industry players to continue to dominate the market.

Less than 7% of rooibos tea lands are today controlled by Indigenous farmers. As a result, they’re only able to produce about 2% of South Africa’s rooibos tea.

Our research also found that the rooibos agreement does not grapple with local contexts and struggles over identity. While some small-scale farmers identify as Khoi-San and “first nation”, they do not always recognise the authority of the councils endorsed by the government to represent them. Other small-scale farmers do not feel a connection to a Khoi-San identity at all, instead identifying with a “Coloured” heritage.

These problems need to be solved now because other South African plant industries based on traditional use, such as buchu, an indigenous shrub used widely in the herbal, flavour and fragrance industries, and honeybush tea, have begun adopting the rooibos benefit-sharing model.

For biodiversity-based economies to transform, they must go beyond agreements about sharing access to plants and profits from their sale. Government must recognise local guardians of biodiversity and redistribute land, and along with industry, must embrace economic transformation. If they don’t, they run the risk of securing benefits only for the few who are politically connected and organised.

A flawed process

In 2010, the South African San Council claimed the right to benefit from rooibos and honeybush. They were later joined by the National Khoisan Council, a body initiated by former president Nelson Mandela in 1999 as a way of including Khoi-San historical leadership in post-apartheid South Africa.

Government-commissioned research at the time urged the commercial rooibos tea industry to negotiate benefit-sharing agreements with the two organisations or risk losing its licence to operate.

However, these two groups do not represent all Khoi-San groups. Many small-scale rooibos farmers, who have deep historical connections to the plant and its traditional knowledge, weren’t part of the negotiations for the agreement. Small-scale rooibos farmers are typically ethnically diverse descendants of San, Khoi, former slaves, and European settlers.

They were eventually included in the final agreement as “rooibos indigenous farming communities”, but only through the National Khoisan Council and not in their own right.

The agreement offered some reparation for past injustices by establishing a “traditional knowledge levy” of 1.5% of the price that farmers receive. The levy – about US$700,000 per year – is paid to the South African San Council and National Khoisan Council.

What’s missing

The agreement has been cited as an example of best practice in equitable business. Yet small-scale rooibos farmers receive just 5% of the benefits. And they are also expected to pay towards the levy because they produce rooibos tea. Overall, they benefit little from access and benefit sharing.

The agreement doesn’t include everyone who holds traditional knowledge about rooibos, and therefore not every Indigenous rooibos grower benefits. It assumes that traditional knowledge is confined to specific groups. In contrast, research has found that Indigenous knowledge is shared across groups. It evolves and takes different forms over time.

The effect of the rooibos agreement is that small-scale Indigenous farmers are less empowered. They need to find the resources to organise across large distances and find ways to get legal support if they are to benefit equally.

More widely, our research shows that the agreement has introduced a new, intervening role for the state. In this case, the state rewarded ethnically defined beneficiaries. This raises questions about the power of the state and how it controls who is entitled to receive information, knowledge and benefits.

What next?

The rooibos agreement has given recognition and economic benefits to some Indigenous groupings. It’s been hailed as a transformation milestone, but has not brought about the changes needed to address social and economic inequities. Real change would include equal access to land, a more inclusive industry, and the wider sharing of economic benefits.

Access and benefit sharing is due for radical rethink. It needs an inclusive, bold, caring and imaginative approach that should be co-designed with communities from the outset. It needs an approach that is rooted in local context. Only this will create new possibilities for inclusive economic power, sustainability and recognition.

Rachel Wynberg receives funding from the South African Department of Science, Technology and Innovation and the National Research Foundation which support her Bio-economy Research Chair. She is affiliated with the University of Cape Town. She is a Board member for two non-profit organisatons: Biowatch South Africa and the Union for Ethical Biotrade (UEBT).

June Bam-Hutchison and Sarah Ives 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. South Africa’s small-scale rooibos tea growers aren’t getting much from an industry deal – why it’s not fair – https://theconversation.com/south-africas-small-scale-rooibos-tea-growers-arent-getting-much-from-an-industry-deal-why-its-not-fair-261288

September 7, 2025

Kenya has introduced new banking policies. An economist weighs them up

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By XN Iraki, Professor, Faculty of Business and Management Sciences, University of Nairobi

The Central Bank of Kenya has made two significant changes in the country’s banking sector. The first is to lift a decade-long moratorium on licensing new banks. Second is to raise capital requirements, the amount of money banks are required to keep readily available compared with the value of other assets they have. Bank capital is what shareholders have invested in the banking business. It’s a buffer against insolvency. Higher capital makes a bank stronger by reassuring depositors that their money is “safe” in case of a financial crisis. Economics professor XN Iraki answers some questions about Kenya’s banking sector and the importance of the two latest policy changes.

What is the state of Kenya’s banking sector?

Kenya has 39 licensed banks. Of these, 17 are classified as foreign-owned with 50% or more shareholding held by foreign interests. All the top commercial banks are listed on the Nairobi Stock Exchange. Three are majority government-owned while the rest are privately owned.

Kenya’s banking sector is known for its dynamism. This is reflected in the adoption of innovations, new product offerings and technology. It is also seen in the growth in assets, deposits and profitability. Finally, it is also evidenced in the mergers, buyouts and growth across borders into the neighbouring countries.

KCB Group – a publicly owned bank that is also the country’s largest – as well as privately owned Equity Bank have established foreign subsidiaries or acquisitions in Uganda, Tanzania, South Sudan, Rwanda, Burundi and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The use of technology, for instance linking bank accounts with the popular M-pesa mobile payment platform, has made banking easier and more accessible. This has made banking popular with the younger generation, including Generation Z, who are astute at using technology.

The Kenyan banking sector is dominated by nine large banks that accounted for about 90% of the profit in 2024.

Nonetheless, the sector has been stable in recent years. It’s a far cry from the 1980s, when bank failures were constantly in the headlines. Up until 1998, 37 bank failures had been recorded. More followed in 2003 and in 2015.

Why did the government ban new banks 10 years ago? What was the impact?

The moratorium on licensing new banks was instituted in 2015. This followed the failure of Dubai Bank on 14 August 2015 and Imperial Bank on 13 October 2015.

At about the same time, another institution – Chase Bank – was in trouble. It was placed under management on 7 April 2016.

The banks were closed to protect depositors and ensure stability of the sector. But banning new banks was not the best solution. It stifled competition and could have led to the current situation where a few banks dominate the market.

Though the failures were not the first, they were a big blot on Kenya’s financial sector. They could have slowed the growth of the sector in at least two ways. First is the restriction on new players. Second, the perceptions of higher risk would have led to more cautious investment and lending decisions.

What are the limits placed on banks wanting to set up in Kenya?

Banks are subject to regulation and rules set out in the Banking Act. These rules relate to licensing, capital requirements, who may be a shareholder or director, and protection of customer deposits, among other aspects. For this reason, shareholders and key employees are subject to vetting by regulators.

These regulations can be enhanced from time to time. It’s the basis on which the Central Bank of Kenya has increased bank core capital requirements to 5 billion shillings (US$38 million) by 2026. This will double to 10 billion shillings (US$76 million) by 2029. Core capital as defined by Central Bank of Kenya is “shareholders equity in the form of issued and fully paid-up shares of common stock, plus all disclosed reserves, less goodwill or any other intangible assets.”

Higher core capital is expected to strengthen banks and possibly reduce the number of players as some banks merge or are absorbed by stronger players.

This can only be counterbalanced if more banks enter the market after the moratorium was lifted. That would be the ideal case. More competition would lead to lower interest rates, which act as an economic stimulus. It would be easier to borrow money for more consumption or investment.

Higher core capital is a double edged sword. Lifting the moratorium will lead to greater competition if more banks enter the market. But higher core capital might deter new entrants. One speculation is that lifting the moratorium could usher in global brands with more capital and a competitive edge.

Investors who can overcome the higher core capital and join this sector are likely to reap big. Kenyan banks are a popular choice for investors in the security markets and are generally profitable.

What opportunities or pitfalls will the Central Bank be watching out for?

The lifting of the moratorium on new banks and raising capital requirements could be the start of more changes in the Kenyan banking sector.

It’s expected that with new capital requirements Kenyan banks will become bigger and more resilient and serve as the lubricant of economic growth. Bigger and fewer banks are likely to be more stable and easier to supervise.

Will bigger banks adequately respond to the needs of small and microenterprises (SMEs) and individuals? Will they keep the focus on local communities? Could new licences be granted to the politically connected as happened in the past? Here could lie a pitfall. The true test of such policy decisions is achieving faster economic growth and higher standards of living for all.

XN Iraki 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. Kenya has introduced new banking policies. An economist weighs them up – https://theconversation.com/kenya-has-introduced-new-banking-policies-an-economist-weighs-them-up-261590

September 4, 2025

Ghana’s films don’t often make it to Netflix – local solutions may be the answer

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Robin Steedman, Lecturer of Creative Industries, School of Culture and Creative Arts, University of Glasgow

African filmmakers have long faced challenges in securing wide-scale distribution for their films. In this context, digital platforms such as Netflix and YouTube have been hailed as bringing huge new opportunities.

This optimism in filmmaking resonates with the hype digital technologies more generally have had in Africa. They have been seen to offer almost unlimited opportunities for African entrepreneurs to transform and grow their businesses. Ghana’s communication minister, for example, declared in 2017 “it’s Digitime in Ghana”.

We are researchers in film studies, theatre studies, sociology and geography, and in this study, we set out to understand how platforms were being used and thought about in the Ghanaian film industry. We wanted to look beyond the techno-optimistic hype – the idea that technological progress can solve every problem known to humans.

We held interviews and focus groups with 50 filmmakers in Ghana to understand the experience of platform entrepreneurship in filmmaking across the country. We found that while filmmakers were very optimistic about technology, they were also deeply sceptical of what existing platforms could do for them in Ghana. Creating local platforms was an important alternative.

Enthusiastic but short on know-how

Ghana’s film industry dates back to its colonial roots when the Gold Coast Film Unit was established by the British in the 1940s. Although it has achieved remarkable successes, they haven’t been consistent. In the sub-region the industry is dwarfed by Nigeria’s Nollywood.

Film distribution in Ghana is in a transitional moment, driven in large part by technological change. For a long time, Ghanaian movies reached their audiences on CDs and DVDs. With the rise of digital television and internet streaming, this once lucrative model collapsed. Ghanaian filmmakers are now experimenting with platforms in their businesses.

We found that they used and thought about platforms in three principal ways.

First, many filmmakers enthusiastically embraced platforms and believed they had the power to create global reach and dramatic business growth. Many felt, like prominent Accra filmmaker Isaac, that “opportunities are endless in the industry” because of new technologies.

Some Ghanaian filmmakers distribute their films on major global platforms such as Netflix, but it was only a very small minority. They did not feel that working with platforms had revolutionised their businesses, but rather that being on Netflix enhanced their status, and they hoped this would help them attract financing for future projects.

Second, filmmakers were also well aware of the limits of platform distribution. Those with films on Netflix were the most affluent and well connected. Others struggled to access some global platforms. They also found it very difficult to make money on easy-to-access platforms such as YouTube. They struggle to make the large volume of content needed to get high viewing numbers and thus monetise their content. It was almost impossible to make enough to justify the cost of production.

Some filmmakers felt that they did not know enough about how to use platforms. Emerging filmmaker Esther expressed a common view when she said:

We need more education in ﬁlmmaking. Those of us here, we have the talent, we want to do movies, we are doing our best, but most of us have not been to ﬁlm school to learn.

Some felt they were not benefiting from the potential of platforms yet, but could in the future. Thus, they were motivated to continually experiment and develop new strategies for making and distributing their movies online and offline.

Third, some filmmakers experimented with creating Ghanaian platforms.

John, a leading figure in a national association, said:

In five years, the industry will be better, far, far better than ten years ago. … if we are able to move with time, build a platform like Netflix.

He wanted to create something that would focus on Ghanaian film and support the local industry.

John was not alone. Selwyn, a film and TV entrepreneur, for example, had created an app specifically for local language film.

Ghanaian filmmakers could see that the business models of global tech giants did not favour them, and that Netflix and other American platforms would not transform film distribution in Ghana or fulfil their dreams of global audiences and business growth.

Local solutions

Film makers did not give up in the face of these challenges. Rather they worked hard to devise their own solutions to the challenge of film distribution – solutions that were tailored to their circumstances and put Ghanaian filmmakers at centre stage. Local Ghanaian platforms were one such solution.

The idea that technology can change the world emanates powerfully from Silicon Valley in the US and has been exported globally. Yet Ghana is starkly different from Silicon Valley and thus the experience of technological entrepreneurship is likely to be different too.

Ana Alacovska received funding from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark for this research

Rashida Resario has received funding from DANIDA for this research.

Thilde Langevang receives funding from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, grant number 18-05-CBS (Advancing Creative Industries for Development in Ghana).

Robin Steedman 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. Ghana’s films don’t often make it to Netflix – local solutions may be the answer – https://theconversation.com/ghanas-films-dont-often-make-it-to-netflix-local-solutions-may-be-the-answer-261087

September 4, 2025

God and Nollywood: how Pentecostal churches have shaped Nigerian film

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Elizabeth Olayiwola, Senior Lecturer in Broadcast, Film, and Multimedia, University of Abuja

In Nigeria today, one doesn’t have to attend a church service to hear a sermon. The pulpit has moved – onto screens, into living rooms, and across YouTube.

Along with this shift, a fascinating genre has emerged: Nigerian evangelical cinema. These films blend entertainment with Pentecostal spirituality, turning prayers into special effects and spiritual battles into dramatic storylines.

This transformation is not accidental. It reflects a wider trend in which religion and media intersect to shape how Nigerians – and increasingly, Africans in the diaspora – understand the spiritual world.

As a media scholar I have been researching the Nigerian evangelical screen world for over a decade. As I show in my latest study in the book Contemporary African Screen Worlds, the rise of evangelical cinema is tied to Nigeria’s Pentecostal boom and the explosion of Nollywood, the country’s vast film industry, in the 1990s.

In the early days of Nollywood, films were distributed on video cassettes and shown in communal venues, including church halls. They spread to TV, where audiences embraced early Nollywood productions like Agbara Nla (The Ultimate Power) produced in 1993 by Mount Zion Faith Ministries International. Broadcast as a series, it dramatised spiritual warfare between Christians and demonic agents and became a national phenomenon.

The ministry, founded in 1985, houses Mount Zion Film Productions, the most prolific Christian film company in Nigeria.

Evangelical films blur the line between devotion and drama, prayer and performance. My study shows that they are not just niche productions aimed at church audiences. Their impact is far greater. The films reveal how millions of Nigerians imagine the spiritual world, how they navigate everyday crises, and how religion adapts to new technologies.

The Nigerian evangelical film culture also shows how a range of networks can build and push a cinematic culture forward, offering lessons to industries around the world about the power of leveraged networks.

How it all started

At the centre of this story is Mike Bamiloye, co-founder of Mount Zion Faith Ministries. Established by a small group of college graduates, it began with church stage plays before moving into video and TV.

Like the Yoruba theatre tradition from which it drew some of its inspiration, Mount Zion toured churches and neighbouring countries, staging plays and building audiences.

With fewer entertainment options available back then, TV audiences embraced Agbara Nla. The film tells the story of a village that is constantly punished by the forces of darkness because of a malevolent herbalist. God sends a young Christian missionary couple to battle him and deliver the community from evil.

What made Agbara Nla and similar films resonate was their familiarity. Nigerians had long been exposed to supernatural storylines. In the 1960s through to the 1980s, they occurred in Yoruba travelling theatre productions, a popular form of entertainment.

Later, the supernatural was kept alive in Nollywood’s many occult-themed films. Often involving witchcraft and magic, these films tend to tap into a blend of Christian and traditional Nigerian cosmologies. They revolve around the idea of spiritual warfare, of good versus evil and God versus the Devil.

Evangelical filmmakers simply retooled the formula, swapping out witchdoctors for pastors, charms for prayer, and gods for Christ.

A man directs actors dressed in simple white outfits. One kneels holding a sacred object, others lie passed out on the ground. — The power of the gods on display in a Nollywood film.
Bestvillage/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

In many evangelical films, prayer is not just words muttered in the quiet of the heart. It is dramatised, given visual form, and staged as a battle with unseen forces. A woman kneeling in prayer might suddenly find herself in a parallel “spirit realm” where angels and demons clash. Her whispered incantations are translated into fireballs, lightning bolts, or shields of protection.

The effect is powerful. For Christian audiences, these films make visible what is usually invisible: the spiritual consequences of prayer. They confirm a belief that prayer works, not metaphorically but literally, in the everyday struggles of life.

Social messages

These films are more than just entertainment. They carry social messages too. One striking feature I’ve discussed in my earlier research is their focus on women.

Women are often depicted as especially vulnerable to spiritual attack – but also as powerful prayer warriors. In many films, a woman’s reproductive life – her fertility, sexuality, or motherhood – is given spiritual significance.

This framing reflects Pentecostal theology, where sex itself is sometimes cast as an act with spiritual consequences. So these kinds of Nollywood stories both challenge and reinforce gender norms.

On one hand, women are shown exercising spiritual authority. On the other, their bodies are often treated as sites of moral or spiritual conflict.

Entrepreneurship of faith

Behind the scenes, evangelical Nollywood also illustrates a different kind of creativity: entrepreneurship. Many film makers juggle ministry with business innovation, building networks of production, distribution and audience engagement. Evangelical film maker Opeyemi Akintunde, for example, started with short web stories, moved into publishing, and went on to adapt her work into films circulated on YouTube and in cinemas.

This entrepreneurial spirit is part of a broader pattern across Africa. Studies have shown how Pentecostal media – from films to radio to social media – are reshaping both religious practice and cultural economies.

In Nigeria, the church itself provides infrastructure, from funding and publicity to venues and technical equipment, making film ministry possible.

Beyond Nigeria

Studies have also shown how Nollywood is spreading, embraced by a global audience. The influence of Nigerian evangelical cinema is not limited to Nigeria.

Riding on Nigeria’s transnational churches, these films and their film-making style today reach audiences across Africa, Europe and the US. Diaspora churches screen them during services; people watch them on their phones for inspiration or moral guidance.

This global circulation highlights the adaptability of both African Pentecostalism and Nollywood – and their capacity to shape imaginations (and souls) far beyond their local roots.

Elizabeth Olayiwola 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. God and Nollywood: how Pentecostal churches have shaped Nigerian film – https://theconversation.com/god-and-nollywood-how-pentecostal-churches-have-shaped-nigerian-film-264279

September 4, 2025

Mónica’s story: the woman shipped from Ghana to Portugal in 1556 to stand trial for using traditional medicine

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Jessica O’Leary, Senior Lecturer, Monash University

Standing before the Inquisition in Lisbon, Portugal in 1556, Mónica Fernandes, a woman from the coast of modern-day Ghana, was accused of casting malevolent spells and making pacts with demons. Her crime? Seeking a traditional Akan remedy for a simple cat bite.

The Portuguese Inquisition was a powerful institution tasked with identifying, investigating and punishing any belief or practice that deviated from official Catholic doctrine. The Inquisition was established in 1536 during the expansion of the Portuguese empire, one of the world’s first global maritime powers.

Fernandes’ trial, recorded in meticulous detail by the Inquisitor, Jerónimo de Azambuja, offers a rare and powerful window into a 16th-century clash of cultures. It reveals how a colonial power systematically misunderstood and criminalised local customs, rebranding Indigenous knowledge as dangerous sorcery.

As a historian, I spend my time searching for connections between people across the early modern world, especially the lives of women and children within the vast Portuguese empire. While I was researching the trials of Indigenous women in colonial Brazil, a question began to form: were women in other parts of the empire, like west Africa, also being targeted for their traditional knowledge? This question led me to the archives of the Portuguese Inquisition and to a remarkable case file from 1556.

The file detailed the trial of Mónica Fernandes, an Akan woman from what’s now Ghana. Her story opens a rare window onto the personal, human impact of colonisation. It shows how a vast imperial power operated on the ground: by misunderstanding, criminalising, and attempting to erase Indigenous ways of knowing.

Recovering stories like this helps us understand a legacy of cultural suppression that continues to resonate today.

A life between two worlds

Mónica was born to Akan parents. The Akan are a collection of related peoples, primarily living in modern-day Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire. Organised into matrilineal states, they had established sophisticated societies with rich cultural, religious and social knowledge systems long before the arrival of Europeans.

The Portuguese first arrived on the west African coast in the late 15th century, driven by a desire for gold. They established their authority by constructing fortified trading posts like São Jorge da Mina (now Elmina Castle) that imposed their laws and religion on the surrounding communities.

Mónica lived and worked in and around São Jorge da Mina, a place of intense cultural collision. Baptised into the Catholic faith, she existed between two worlds: the rigid, hierarchical society of the European fortress and the vibrant Akan village of Edina that surrounded it.

Like others, she moved between these spaces to socialise, shop and, crucially, seek medical care. It was this last activity that brought her to the attention of the Inquisition. Instead of visiting the Portuguese apothecary at the fortress, Mónica consulted a local Akan healer, an ɔkɔmfoɔ or odunsinni, to treat a cat bite. She procured an ointment, a common practice she saw as rudimentary healthcare.

To the Inquisitor, however, this was proof of heterodoxy, or a belief, opinion, or practice that went against the officially established doctrines of Catholicism. Mónica’s choice to trust her community’s medical expertise over that of the Portuguese was seen not just as a rejection of European authority, but as evidence of a pact with the devil.

Custom vs. crime

The accusations against Mónica were dramatic and personal. The initial charge stemmed from a quarrel with another African woman, Ana Fernandes, who was visiting São Jorge da Mina from Lisbon. Witnesses claimed that after an argument, Mónica cast a spell on Ana. Weeks later, after returning to Portugal, Ana succumbed to a mysterious illness that allegedly caused the skin to peel from her face. This rumour, spread by a single witness, became the centrepiece of the case.

The rumour of Mónica’s curse spread, prompting a formal inquiry by the Portuguese captain at São Jorge da Mina. It was only after this local investigation, which took months, that Mónica was officially detained and transported as a prisoner to face the main tribunal in Lisbon.

The Inquisitor’s interest went beyond this single event, expanding to include other, more everyday practices. Witnesses interviewed at São Jorge da Mina also claimed Mónica conducted spells using chickens and yams. While these details were recorded as evidence of sinister rituals, they were in fact staple elements of Akan cultural life. Yams, a starchy, edible tuber, similar to a potato, were a vital food source and central to ceremonies honouring ancestors, while animal sacrifice was a common preparation for deities.

What the Portuguese Inquisitor labelled feitiços (witchcraft or charms) was, for Mónica and her community, simply aduro (medicine) and amammerɛ (custom). The trial documents painstakingly list her heterodoxical activities, but in doing so, they inadvertently preserve a record of the very cultural knowledge the Inquisition sought to destroy. Mónica’s case becomes a catalogue of everyday Akan practices, seen through a distorted colonial lens.

A defiant accused

Throughout months of imprisonment and interrogation, Mónica was pressed to confess to witchcraft. She consistently refused. In Akan culture, the concept of bayie is sometimes translated as “witchcraft”, but it specifically refers to acts of acute spiritual wickedness or illness. Mónica’s actions did not fit this category. She was treating a physical ailment, a cat bite.

Mónica’s refusal to accept the label of “witch” was therefore not simple denial. Her defence was based on a clear cultural distinction, one she clung to despite her limited Portuguese. When she insisted that she had committed no crime because “all the black men and women of Mina did it too”, she was not admitting to collective guilt. She was trying to explain that her actions were customary medicine, not malevolent spiritual work.

She understood the difference between her own system of knowledge and the crime of which she was accused, and she refused to conflate them.

The verdict and legacy

Ultimately, Mónica was found guilty of witchcraft, but the Inquisitors deemed her actions “minor”. She was given the light sentence of a period of religious re-education in Lisbon to study Christian doctrine. Mónica secured her release by demonstrating good Christian behaviour, but was forbidden from returning to her homeland.

Mónica’s light sentence was relatively uncommon but unlikely to have been the first instance of re-education. It is possible that women from other Portuguese colonial territories also suffered similar fates, but many records have been lost due to the Lisbon Earthquake (1755) and the deliberate destruction of the Goa Inquisition cases which also took in east Africa.

We don’t know what happened to her after her release. But her story, buried in the archives for over 450 years, remains deeply relevant. It is a powerful, personal account of how colonialism operated not just through military force, but through displacement and the deliberate suppression of local knowledge. Mónica’s trial is a stark reminder that the branding of Indigenous practices as “magic” or “superstition” was a tool used to assert dominance and erase entire ways of knowing the world.

Jessica O’Leary works for Monash University, a partner of The Conversation.

– ref. Mónica’s story: the woman shipped from Ghana to Portugal in 1556 to stand trial for using traditional medicine – https://theconversation.com/monicas-story-the-woman-shipped-from-ghana-to-portugal-in-1556-to-stand-trial-for-using-traditional-medicine-263929

September 4, 2025

BBC has a long history in Africa. New book offers a critical take on the broadcaster

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Albert Sharra, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, University of the Witwatersrand

The British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) established its first radio transmitter sites in Africa in the 1930s, to reach the British colonies and beyond. It became a model for radio in Africa and later a model for TV news.

But, almost a century on, what is the BBC’s colonial legacy and how does the public broadcaster serve a post-colonial media space? We asked the editors of a new book, called The BBC’s Legacy in Africa: Continuities and Change, about their study.

What was the BBC’s colonial operation all about?

The BBC was established in 1922. Within a few years, it became a colonial platform. This began with the British Colonial Office’s decision to set up radio broadcasting in its colonies. The goal was to enhance communication between the governors and the governed. The BBC was engaged to help with the project.

Between the late 1920s and 1930, the BBC tried broadcasting in most parts of the empire, including Africa. At the 1930 Imperial Conference, it was agreed to set up the Empire Service, a broadcast network to advance administration of the colonies. By 1932, the Empire Service was in full operation and many countries were getting connected to the broadcasting grid. Kenya was connected in 1928 and Ghana in 1935. In central Africa, Zambia was connected in 1945 to cover Zambia, Malawi and Zimbabwe.

At the time, private radio stations were thriving in other parts of the continent, particularly in South Africa, Angola and Mozambique. The unique approach of the BBC was to establish public service radio.

By 1971, there were 43 national radio services in sub-Saharan Africa. This is attributed mainly to the BBC’s expertise in developing broadcasting services and programming models, and training African broadcasters.

This was more than just communication; it was a form of cultural imperialism and soft power. It embedded British values through English-language dominance and news formats that reflected British norms.

This remains the BBC broadcasting model today, as well as that of former British colonies. At independence, newly established African states adopted these norms to establish national broadcasters.

Our book argues that the end of colonisation did not dismantle the BBC’s colonial legacy. That’s because the style was already embedded in the broadcasting system. We used evidence from different countries, including Malawi, Zimbabwe, Uganda and Nigeria, to demonstrate this.

How did this shape African media?

Post-independence broadcasters inherited BBC-style structures, formats and journalistic ethics. Over time, these elements were blended with local languages, music and storytelling traditions.

The BBC has remained in these countries through the BBC World Service and programmes like Focus on Africa. It recruits African correspondents who influence local journalists to write news in the same ways.

We argue that the failure of African media to decolonise has something to do with the BBC’s efforts to keep influencing broadcasting worldwide.

Many national broadcasters in Africa still operate under public service broadcasting principles inspired by the BBC. In some countries – like Malawi, Zambia and Zimbabwe – these are public broadcasters on paper, but in practice they are state media, operating in the interest of the state. They are abused and used for state propaganda. So, the influence of the BBC, in some instances, is not successful in practice.

At first, the BBC was promoting English only. Later on, it started to invest in African languages. The BBC’s World Service programming has incorporated Hausa, Igbo, Somali, Swahili, Afaan Oromo, Amharic and Tigrinya.

As the book discusses, BBC programmes like Focus on Africa and political interview styles like HARDtalk have influenced talk shows and political debate programmes in African media. These hybrids often continue to reproduce western-centric norms and biases.

What can we learn from some of the countries discussed?

In Uganda, radio continues to reflect the influence of the BBC in programming content, ownership patterns and journalist training.

The BBC’s reliance on Ugandan correspondents reinforces its authority and shapes professional norms, making BBC-trained journalists aspirational figures. The BBC sustains many local outlets by providing international and sports content.

Its enduring presence has also been facilitated by government goodwill, including the allocation of scarce frequencies, as part of maintaining diplomatic ties.

The Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation initially embraced the BBC’s public service broadcasting ideals. But later it became a propaganda arm for the ruling party.

What are some of the problems with the BBC in Africa today?

Its perceived neutrality as a public service broadcaster is questioned in the book because the BBC’s editorial choices often mirror British foreign policy priorities. The discussions in the book mirror some of the public backlash the BBC has faced in cases like its coverage of the Israel-Palestine conflict.

The dominance of BBC-trained journalists and formats has the potential to marginalise other storytelling traditions. Most African cultures are rich in storytelling but BBC correspondents tend to control the storytelling through an insistence on quick questions and answers and limited time.

Although African languages are included, news framing often perpetuates Eurocentric narratives.

What needs to change?

BBC should be commended for setting up what became a model of broadcasting not only in Africa but also beyond. This model has fostered quality broadcasting and the watchdog role of the press.

Moving forward, in its African programming and operations, the BBC needs to go beyond tokenism. Representation should encompass more than language. It should include agenda-setting, framing and adopting African storytelling techniques.

African broadcasters should uphold and embrace local knowledge and approaches by incorporating local cultural logic into their programming. They should strive to be creative and innovative.

Partnerships that empower African broadcasters instead of relying on BBC resources can promote genuine media sovereignty.

The future depends on hybridisation on African terms, upholding high production and ethical standards while anchoring media systems in African socio-political realities, rather than copying and reproducing colonial frameworks.

The book argues that decolonisation in African broadcasting is an ongoing process and requires creating more spaces for open conversations.

Albert Sharra receives funding from University of Witwatersrand and University of Edinburgh. The book is part of my funded research work under these institutions.

Anthony Mavuto Gunde and Jimmy Kainja 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. BBC has a long history in Africa. New book offers a critical take on the broadcaster – https://theconversation.com/bbc-has-a-long-history-in-africa-new-book-offers-a-critical-take-on-the-broadcaster-264052

September 3, 2025

Genetic tests for cancer can give uncertain results: new science is making the picture clearer to guide treatment

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Claudia Christowitz, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Stellenbosch University

Cancer treatment is becoming more personalised. By considering a patient’s unique genetic and molecular profile, along with their lifestyle and environmental factors, doctors can make more accurate treatment decisions. This approach, known as personalised or precision medicine, has been increasingly used in South Africa and has expanded to other African countries in recent decades. It requires doctors to rely more on genetic tests to guide decisions. But these tests don’t always give clear answers. Functional genomics may offer a way to improve the interpretation of unclear genetic test results. We spoke to physiological scientist Claudia Christowitz about it.

Is cancer a genetic disease and what is personalised medicine?

Cancer is fundamentally a genetic disease. It arises when changes in a person’s DNA (referred to as variants or mutations) disrupt normal cell functions such as cell growth and division. It eventually leads to tumour formation. These changes can be inherited from families or acquired during a person’s lifetime. This can be due to lifestyle and environmental risk factors such as smoking, ultraviolet radiation and infectious agents, among others.

Over the past few decades, we’ve entered the era of personalised medicine. As a result, the role of genetics in cancer treatment has become more prominent. Personalised medicine involves tailoring cancer treatment to each patient’s unique characteristics.

For example, even if two people are diagnosed with the same type and stage of cancer, their treatment outcomes may differ. This is because factors such as their genetic and molecular make-up, overall health status, age, body composition, lifestyle habits, and use of other medication can all influence how well a treatment works for them.

How have advances in genetic testing helped in treating cancer?

Advances in DNA sequencing technologies have made it possible to detect genetic variants more quickly and accurately. The tests can look for just a few genes linked to certain medical conditions, or they can describe the entire genome of an individual, or just the protein-coding regions of the genome (the exome).

DNA sequencing has revolutionised cancer care. Doctors can use it to improve prevention in people who are at risk of cancer, detect cancer early, and select the most appropriate treatment.

Africa’s first high-throughput Genomics Centre was launched in 2019 by the South African Medical Research Council. Cancer patients can now undergo whole exome sequencing and whole genome sequencing locally for around R10,000 (about US$566) to R20,000 (about US$1,132). This is sometimes covered by medical insurance. These services are also available at research facilities like the Centre for Proteomic and Genomic Research or the Centre for Epidemiological Research and Innovation at Stellenbosch University.

These facilities strengthen the capacity to sequence, analyse and store human genomes, particularly for the diverse gene pool in Africa. But routine genome sequencing, especially in the public health sector, remains limited due to high costs, limited awareness and the need for trained personnel.

What are the shortcomings of genetic testing?

Genetic testing doesn’t provide all the answers. Unfortunately, not all genetic results are clear-cut. In many cases, patients receive results showing changes in their DNA that cannot be confidently classified as either harmful (pathogenic variants or mutations) or harmless (benign variants). These unclassified variants are known as variants of uncertain significance. The uncertainty often leaves both patients and their oncologists (cancer doctors) unsure of the way forward.

With the advancement of sequencing technologies, rare or novel variants are more frequently detected. But without a clear understanding of whether the variant affects gene function, clinicians are often forced to wait – sometimes for years – until more information emerges.

When patients undergo genetic testing – often as part of a hereditary cancer screening or in response to early-onset or familial cancers – the hope is to find a variant that clearly explains their condition. But sequencing may yield variants of uncertain significance, raising questions about its usefulness in patient care and whether the tests are worth the cost.

What is functional genomics and how can it make genetic test results clearer?

Functional genomics is a growing field that could transform how we interpret these unresolved genetic results and make it possible to improve clinical care for cancer patients.

Functional genomics goes beyond simply reading the DNA code. It investigates how genetic variants behave in biological systems. By examining how a variant alters gene expression, protein function, cell behaviour, or response to treatments, scientists can determine whether it is likely to be benign or pathogenic.

This information is crucial for making timely medical decisions. Importantly, cells derived from patients can be used to mimic real biological conditions more accurately. By using cells carrying such a variant and comparing them to cells without the variant, scientists can determine whether the variant is influencing the response of cells to certain treatments or not.

In short: genetic testing is like reading the “instruction manual” of a cell. Functional genomics is like testing the effects of changes to these instructions.

My study, using patient-derived cells, investigated the effects of a rare TP53 variant that was identified for the first time in germline (inherited) DNA through whole exome sequencing in a South African family with multiple cancers. I found that this variant made cells resistant to the chemotherapy drug doxorubicin. Instead of undergoing cell death as expected, the cells went into a kind of “sleep mode” called senescence, where damaged cells stop dividing.

Although this prevents the growth of damaged cells, senescent cells can release signals that may inflame and harm nearby healthy cells. The variant also reduced how well immune cells can move, which may affect their ability to go to cancer cells and attack them. This study, supervised by Prof Anna-Mart Engelbrecht, Prof Maritha Kotze, and Dr Daniel Olivier from Stellenbosch University, highlighted how functional genomics can unravel the impact of a variant of uncertain significance, which may guide medical decisions.

In a world where personalised medicine is rapidly evolving, functional genomics represents a critical step forward, offering more clarity, better care, and renewed hope to those facing cancer.

Claudia Christowitz received funding from the National Research Foundation, South Africa.

– ref. Genetic tests for cancer can give uncertain results: new science is making the picture clearer to guide treatment – https://theconversation.com/genetic-tests-for-cancer-can-give-uncertain-results-new-science-is-making-the-picture-clearer-to-guide-treatment-262545

September 3, 2025

We decoded the oldest genetic data from an Egyptian, a man buried around 4,500 years ago – what it told us

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Adeline Morez Jacobs, Postdoctoral researcher, University of Padova (Italy); visiting lecturer, Liverpool John Moores University (UK), University of Padua

A group of scientists has sequenced the genome of a man who was buried in Egypt around 4,500 years ago. The study offers rare insight into the genetic ancestry of early Egyptians and reveals links to both ancient north Africa and Mesopotamia, which includes modern day Iraq and parts of Syria, Turkey and Iran.

Egypt’s heat and terrain made it difficult for such studies to be conducted but lead researcher Adeline Morez Jacobs and team made a breakthrough. We spoke to her about the challenges of sequencing ancient remains, the scientific advances that made this discovery possible, and why this genome could reshape how we understand Egypt’s early dynastic history.

What is genome sequencing? How does it work in your world?

Genome sequencing is the process of reading an organism’s entire genetic code. In humans, that’s about 3 billion chemical “letters” (A, C, T and G). The technology was first developed in the late 1970s, and by 2003 scientists had completed the first full human genome. But applying it to ancient remains came much later and has been far more difficult.

DNA breaks down over time. Heat, humidity and chemical reactions damage it, and ancient bones and teeth are filled with DNA from soil microbes rather than from the individual we want to study. In early attempts during the 1980s, scientists hoped mummified remains might still hold usable DNA. But the available sequencing methods weren’t suited to the tiny, fragmented molecules left after centuries or millennia.

To sequence DNA, scientists first need to make lots of copies of it, so there’s enough to read. Originally, this meant putting DNA into bacteria and waiting for the colonies to grow. It took days, demanded careful upkeep and yielded inconsistent results. Two breakthroughs changed this.

In the early 1990s, PCR (polymerase chain reaction) allowed millions of DNA copies to be made in hours, and by the mid-2000s, new sequencing machines could read thousands of fragments in parallel. These advances not only sped up the process but also made it more reliable, enabling even highly degraded DNA to be sequenced.

Since then, researchers have reconstructed the genomes of extinct human relatives like Neanderthals, and more than 10,000 ancient people who lived over the past 45,000 years. But the work is still challenging – success rates are low for very old remains, and tropical climates destroy DNA quickly.

What’s exceptional about the sequencing you did on these remains?

What made our study unusual is that we were able to sequence a surprisingly well-preserved genome from a region where ancient DNA rarely survives.

When we analysed the sample, we found that about 4%-5% of all DNA fragments came from the person himself (the rest came from bacteria and other organisms that colonised the remains after burial). The quantity of DNA of interest (here, human) is usually between 40% and 90% when working with living organisms. That 4%-5% might sound tiny, but in this part of the world, it’s a relatively high proportion, and enough to recover meaningful genetic information.

We think the individual’s unusual burial may have helped. He was placed inside a ceramic vessel within a rock-cut tomb, which could have shielded him from heat, moisture and other damaging elements for thousands of years.

To make the most of this rare preservation, we filtered out the very shortest fragments, which are too damaged to be useful. The sequencing machines could then focus on higher-quality pieces. Thanks to advanced facilities at the Francis Crick Institute, we were able to read the DNA over and over, generating about eight billion sequences in total. This gave us enough data to reconstruct the genome of what we call the Nuwayrat individual, making him the oldest genome from Egypt to date.

Does this open new frontiers?

We did not develop entirely new techniques for this study but we combined some of the most effective methods currently available into a single optimised pipeline. This is what palaeogeneticists (scientists who study the DNA of ancient organisms) often do: we adapt and refine existing methods to push the limits of what can be recovered from fragile remains.

That’s why this result matters. It shows that, with the right combination of methods, we can sometimes retrieve genomes even from places where DNA usually doesn’t survive well, like Egypt.

Egypt is also a treasure trove for archaeology, with remains that could answer major questions about human history, migration and cultural change.

Our success suggests that other ancient Egyptian remains might still hold genetic secrets, opening the door to discoveries we couldn’t have imagined just a decade ago.

What was your biggest takeaway from the sequencing?

The most exciting result was uncovering this man’s genetic ancestry. By comparing his DNA to ancient genomes from Africa, western Asia and Europe, we found that about 80% of his ancestry was shared with earlier north African populations, suggesting shared roots within the earlier local population. The remaining 20% was more similar to groups from the eastern Fertile Crescent, particularly Neolithic Mesopotamia (present-day Iraq).

This might sound expected, but until now we had no direct genetic data from an Old Kingdom (2686–2125 BCE) Egyptian individual. The results support earlier studies of skeletal features from this period, which suggested close links to predynastic populations, but the genome gives a far more precise and conclusive picture.

This genetic profile fits with archaeological evidence of long-standing connections between Egypt and the eastern Fertile Crescent, dating back at least 10,000 years with the spread of farming, domesticated animals and new crops into Egypt. Both regions also developed some of the world’s first writing systems, hieroglyphs in Egypt and cuneiform in Mesopotamia. Our finding adds genetic evidence to the picture, suggesting that along with goods and ideas, people themselves were moving between these regions.

Of course, one person can’t represent the full diversity of the ancient Egyptian society, which was likely complex and cosmopolitan, but this successful sequencing opens the door for future studies, building a richer and more nuanced picture of the people who lived there over thousands of years.

Adeline Morez Jacobs 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. We decoded the oldest genetic data from an Egyptian, a man buried around 4,500 years ago – what it told us – https://theconversation.com/we-decoded-the-oldest-genetic-data-from-an-egyptian-a-man-buried-around-4-500-years-ago-what-it-told-us-262061

September 3, 2025

How do bodies decompose? Cape Town forensic scientists are pushing frontiers of new detection methods

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Victoria Gibbon, Professor in Biological Anthropology, Division of Clinical Anatomy and Biological Anthropology, University of Cape Town

Cape Town has consistently been one of the metropolitan regions in South Africa with the highest murder rates. It has more than double the national average, and is currently ranked second overall and 16th worldwide. Many victims are discovered only after their bodies have decomposed, burned, or been exposed to the elements. That makes identification difficult and delays justice.

Each year, more than 3,500 unnatural deaths, including murders and accidents, are handled by the city’s Observatory Forensic Pathology Institute. Around 9% remain unidentified. That’s hundreds of families left without answers. We asked Victoria Gibbon and colleagues about their work in forensic taphonomy.

What is the role of forensic taphonomists?

In death, we all decompose in the same general way. But understanding the nuances, especially those introduced by unnatural deaths, requires forensic taphonomy – the science of understanding how bodies break down. Every decomposition process is unique. It is shaped by everything around us: what we’re wearing, how we’re buried and what animals and insects might find us first.

Forensic taphonomists study all these variables and more, specialising in the recovery and analysis of human remains in the context of their environment. They play a vital role in death investigations involving unidentified persons, which requires specialised expertise in the human body and environment. There is a close working relationship with police and pathologists who hold the responsibility for identification and circumstances of death.

Imagine: a body is uncovered amid the sand and scrub of Cape Town’s coastline. By the time it’s found, the remains are in an advanced state of decomposition – identity unclear, the timeline murky. Understanding decomposition helps to determine how long someone has been dead, which can support identification, narrow down missing persons lists, or confirm (or contradict) witness accounts. It’s essential, delicate and some could say, grim work.

Forensic taphonomists’ expertise lies in understanding how bodies decompose under different conditions and how that process can reveal time-since-death, potential trauma, and ultimately, identity. Forensic taphonomists answer questions like: Who was this person? How long have they been there? And what happened to them? Their work sits at the intersection of science, justice and innovation. Because in the end, forensic science is about justice, not just science.

One of the main challenges in forensic taphonomy is that many of the global standards were developed in countries with very different climates and ecological systems. So, they are not representative of South Africa. Cape Town’s internationally unique microclimates, soil types and scavenger populations don’t align neatly with existing models.

To produce locally relevant data, researchers need to observe how decomposition actually happens in these settings. In South Africa, the legislation does not allow forensic taphonomists to study the decomposition of human bodies donated to medical science for research, as happens elsewhere in the world. Therefore they most frequently study the decomposition of adult domestic pigs as internationally accepted models for human decomposition. Pigs have numerous biological similarities to humans that are important for decomposition.

Initial decomposition studies in the Western Cape more than a decade ago began by examining unclothed bodies to establish baseline data. But as it turns out, that’s not what most cases look like. In reality, most deceased persons are clothed, and usually discovered alone. This mismatch prompted a shift.

What have you done differently in your research?

More realistic, single-body, clothed studies were needed. That meant smaller sample sizes, longer timelines, and greater data accuracy. But it leads to findings that are actually applicable in local forensic work.

We innovated, creating a world-first automated data collection machine to tackle the challenge of consistency and cost-effective, reliable long-term monitoring. It tracks decomposition in real-time, continuously and remotely. As bodies lose mass (due to water evaporation, insect activity, or tissue breakdown), the machine logs the weight changes, providing high-resolution data on the progression of decomposition. This removes the subjectivity of human observation. It allows researchers to collect standardised information across multiple cases and environments, simultaneously. It is solar-powered and transmits data remotely via cell phone networks, meaning it can be deployed anywhere we need to establish data for.

Our system has tracked in detail how tissues dry out beneath the skin. This can help reconstruct the time since death by linking drying patterns to environmental conditions and weather.

In addition to weighing decomposing bodies, our system provides continuous power to two motion-activated infrared trail cameras.

One camera trap is positioned directly above the body; the other is alongside the body. Together, these cameras record photos and videos of the decomposition process, giving us detailed insight into the activities of the animals that come to eat and otherwise interact with the decomposing body.

This machine offers precision, reliability and adaptability. It transforms how decomposition can be studied.

What’s next?

This technological innovation isn’t just a local solution. The team aims to provide a means by which researchers from different countries can share results that are directly comparable. These will form the basis for a global taphonomic data network: a collaborative platform for researchers to gain insights into decomposition as it plays out across geographies, environments and case types.

The hope is that this network will allow forensic anthropologists to adapt decomposition estimates to local contexts while contributing to an international evidence base.

Collectively, our research innovations may help produce more accurate case outcomes, that are admissible in court, and capable of providing justice for victims. Assistance with case resolution means restoring the identities of those who might otherwise have been lost to justice and history.

Victoria Gibbon receives funding from National Research Foundation of South Africa. She is affiliated with The University of Cape Town.

Devin Alexander Finaughty receives funding from the Oppenheimer Memorial Trust. He is affiliated with the University of the Witwatersrand and the Wildlife Forensic Academy.

Kara Adams is affiliated with the University of Cape Town.

– ref. How do bodies decompose? Cape Town forensic scientists are pushing frontiers of new detection methods – https://theconversation.com/how-do-bodies-decompose-cape-town-forensic-scientists-are-pushing-frontiers-of-new-detection-methods-262832

September 2, 2025

Supernova theory links an exploding star to global cooling and human evolution

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Francis Thackeray, Honorary Research Associate, Evolutionary Studies Institute, University of the Witwatersrand

Artist’s impression of a supernova. By ESO/M. Kornmesser/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY

What’s the link between an exploding star, climate change and human evolution? Francis Thackeray, who has researched ancient environments and fossils for many years, sets out his ideas about what happened in the distant past – with enormous consequences.

Global cooling that happened millions of years ago was thought to be the result of ocean currents. He suggests instead it could have been due to the impacts of remnants of supernovae. The timing of supernovae, climate changes and species evolution coincides.

What is your supernova hypothesis?

My hypothesis is that remnants of a supernova – an exploding star – had an impact on the Earth’s past climate, causing global cooling, between 3 million and 2.6 million years ago and that this indirectly affected the evolution of hominins (ancient relatives of humans).

How does this change assumptions held until now?

It has been considered by some that global cooling in the Plio-Pleistocene might have been due to changes in ocean currents. This may well be correct to some extent, but I think that the supernova hypothesis needs to be explored.

It’s super-exciting to think that our evolution may to some extent be associated with supernovae as part of our dynamic universe.

How did you come to your supernova hypothesis?

Supernovae include stars which are extremely massive (as much as five times the mass of our Sun) and have reached the end of their stellar evolution. These explosions are rare. On average, within our galaxy (the Milky Way), only one or two per century are visible from Earth as temporary bright stars.

As a result of such explosions, material is expelled into outer space at almost the speed of light. Chemical elements are formed, including a kind of iron (the element Fe) known as isotope Fe-60. It has 26 protons and as many as 34 neutrons.

Traces of Fe-60 iron isotopes from supernovae within the last ten million years have been discovered on Earth in marine deposits such as those drilled in cores in the east Indian Ocean.

The deep-sea deposits with Fe-60 can be dated using radioactive elements which decay at a known rate. This is called radiometric dating.

There was a regular increase in extremely small traces of Fe-60 for the period between 3 million and 2.6 million years ago. We know this from data published by Anton Wallner and his colleagues. Since this is a linear trend I have been able to extrapolate back to 3.3 million years when initial cosmic rays may have first hit Earth. I have proposed in the Quest magazine that this initial cosmic impact correlates with a major glaciation (cooling) event called M2 in an otherwise warm period.

A “near earth” supernova could have produced cosmic rays (radiation from outer space) which might have caused a reduction in the earth’s ozone layer. Increased cloud cover associated with cosmic radiation could have been a factor related to changes in global climate. Specifically, the change would have been global cooling.

This cooling would have affected the distribution and abundance of plant species, in turn affecting that of animals dependent on such vegetation.

What potential new insights does the hypothesis give us into human evolution?

Populations of Australopithecus may have been indirectly affected by the decrease in temperature.

Australopithecus is the genus name for distant human relatives which lived in Africa in geological periods called the Pliocene and Pleistocene. The boundary between these time intervals is 2.58 million years ago. At that time, certain species went extinct. The period coincides closely with the maximum of Fe-60 in marine deposits and a change in Earth’s magnetic field.

Australopithecus africanus: cast of Taung child.
Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

The first fossil of Australopithecus to be described, 100 years ago, was placed by the palaeontologist Raymond Dart in a species called A. africanus. Dubbed the “Taung Child”, it was discovered in South Africa. Its biochronological age, recently based on mathematical analyses of tooth dimensions, is about 2.6 million years – at the Plio-Pleistocene boundary.

It cannot be concluded that the death of the Taung Child was directly caused by a supernova. This would be far-fetched. There is in fact evidence that this individual, about 3 years old, was killed by an eagle.

However, it is plausible to suggest that in Africa, in the Plio-Pleistocene, populations of Australopithecus were affected by a decrease in temperature affecting the distribution and abundance of vegetation and the animals dependent on it.

Recently, a new species of Australopithecus (as yet not named, from Ledi-Geraru) has been discovered in Ethiopia, in deposits dated at about 2.6 million years ago – also the time of the maximum in Fe-60 in deep-sea deposits.

The appearance of the genus Homo is close to the Plio-Pleistocene boundary, reflected by fossils reported recently by Brian Villmoare and his colleagues and well dated at about 2.8 million years ago. The origin of Homo may relate to changes in temperature and associated changes in habitat, as recognised five decades ago by South African palaeontologists Elisabeth Vrba and Bob Brain, although they emphasised a date of 2.5 million years ago.

Is it possible that cosmic radiation stimulated genetic changes?

I have been told by my peers that I am inclined to think “out of the box”. Well, in this case I would like to propose a “hominoid mutation hypothesis”. The hypothesis states that the speciation of hominoids (including human ancestors and those of chimpanzees and gorillas) was to some extent associated with mutations and genetic variability caused by cosmic rays.

It is interesting to consider the possibility that the origin of our genus Homo relates in part to cosmic radiation. Going deeper back in time, Henrik Svensmark has demonstrated that there is a correlation between supernova frequency and speciation (increased biodiversity associated with the evolution of new species), for the last 500 million years (the Phanerozoic period). I think it’s entirely possible that one important cause behind this correlation was the mutagenic (mutation-causing) effect of cosmic rays on DNA, such that rates of speciation exceeded those of extinction.

In hominoids, cosmic rays could have contributed not only to global cooling but also to genetic changes, with subsequent anatomical (morphological) changes related to speciation.

If we go back to about 7 million years ago (when Fe-60 again reflects supernova activity), we would expect to find fossils that are close to a common ancestor for chimpanzees and humans. In terms of the hominoid mutation hypothesis, the split could have been associated with cosmic radiation. One hominoid species about 7 million years old is Sahelanthropus (discovered by Michel Brunet in Chad). In my opinion this species is very close to the common ancestor for Homo sapiens (us) and chimps.

Francis Thackeray has received funding from the National Research Foundation.

– ref. Supernova theory links an exploding star to global cooling and human evolution – https://theconversation.com/supernova-theory-links-an-exploding-star-to-global-cooling-and-human-evolution-263748