Category: The Conversation – Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Gordon Crawford, Professor of Global Development, Coventry University

Early in his eight-year tenure, in 2017, then Ghanaian president Nana Akufo-Addo declared a moratorium on all small-scale gold mining. He established an inter-ministerial committee on illegal mining and a joint military-police taskforce – Operation Vanguard – to enforce the ban.

The tough measures aimed to reduce the severe environmental degradation caused by illegal small-scale gold mining, known as “galamsey”. Initially for six months, the ban lasted for 20 months until December 2018, when it was lifted for newly registered miners.

But illegal mining continued unabated. A statement made in Ghana’s parliament by the country’s lands minister outlined the scale and gold production from small-scale mining increased during the period of its ban.

As political scientists, we investigated why the government-declared “war” on illegal small-scale gold mining and associated environmental degradation failed so spectacularly.

We conducted our investigations through field visits to communities in mining areas in the western and central regions of Ghana. We interviewed small-scale miners, community residents and people affected by illegal mining. We followed this up with a review of official reports, published scientific research and media reports.

We concluded from findings that the involvement of government officials and business elites in illegal mining practices was behind the failure of the interventions. We describe this as “democracy capture”. We argue that, despite Ghana’s much-vaunted electoral democracy, the country’s democratic processes and institutions have been captured by political and economic elites for their own personal enrichment.

Scandals

By mid-2023 a series of corruption scandals had emerged around Ghana’s attempt to curb illegal mining. These included the release of an undercover investigation by journalist Anas Aremeyaw Anas. Machinery seized by the military from illegal mining sites went missing under mysterious circumstances. Also, military personnel assigned to protect forest reserves were accused of becoming a protection racket for illegal miners.

In April 2023, the scandals peaked. A report on the work of the inter-ministerial committee by its former chair, Kwabena Frimpong-Boateng, was leaked. It detailed the involvement of high-level government and ruling party officials in illegal and environmentally destructive mining at a time when all mining was banned.

The report was submitted to government in 2021 but didn’t become public until it was leaked. No clear official statement was issued about the report, but some government officials attempted to discredit and challenge its findings.

The scandals brought fresh attention to the fact that the government’s policies to curb illegal mining had failed. This failure is indicated by the official gold production figures from small-scale mining during the moratorium period. In 2017, production held steady at almost 1.5 million ounces and then in 2018 increased to its highest level ever at almost 2 million ounces, precisely when the ban was in place. Small-scale output in 2018 was 41.4% of total gold production, higher than any previous year. These figures question the extent to which the moratorium on mining was enforced. It indicates that mining continued throughout the purported ban.

Democracy capture and elite enrichment

The objective of democracy capture is to appropriate the benefits of state control for purposes of personal enrichment. It goes beyond individual acts of opportunistic corruption. It entails systematic processes of capture by political elites organised in established political parties who act alongside associated business elites. Importantly, the benefits go beyond the appropriation of state resources. It include private financial gains from illicit activities with state protection.

Although we focus on the government under Akufo-Addo (2017-2024), our contention is that “democracy capture” in Ghana extends to the two main political parties.

We analyse how this has come about. We also set out the implications for democracy in Ghana, and what can be done to reverse the trend.

Elements of democracy capture are evident in the various scandals and corrupt practices that were exposed during the government’s ostensible campaign against illegal mining. The scandals expose an organised network at the highest level of government. It includes politicians, officials and senior ruling party members.

How democracy capture works

First, the presidency and its chief of staff appear to have played a role in controlling operations and protecting those exposed. The chief of staff as a political appointee from the ruling party, rather than a career civil servant, is crucial to strengthening the link between the executive and the ruling party. Additionally, senior party members are appointed to key roles within the presidency.

Second, there is tight party control over relevant state agencies. For example, a former general secretary of the governing party was appointed as CEO of the Forestry Commission (a key regulator in the issuance of mining licences).

Third, the loyalty between members of the party elite has been highlighted by the high-level protection from prosecution and conviction when criminal activities are exposed. The case of Charles Bissue is an example. A top official of the inter-ministerial committee on illegal mining and prominent member of the governing party, he was caught on camera in the undercover investigation. He was charged with corruption but six years later the case still hasn’t been concluded.

Fourth, the military and law-enforcement agencies are allowed to benefit from illicit activities. They can sell confiscated equipment and take bribes to protect illegal mining sites. An official investigation found that the police also habitually did this.

What next?

Ghanaians value political stability and civil liberties. However, the capture of democracy has become a path to personal wealth for the political elite and their business associates.

Elites have been able to act outside the law with relative impunity. The consequence of democracy capture is that socio-economic development is sidelined. Wealth cascades upwards and inequalities intensify. Our study clearly identifies these elements.

Combating democracy capture will require a major effort from civil society organisations and the media, to expose government and state involvement in these illegal activities. This must go hand in hand with a stronger legal and judicial regime committed to prosecutions.

The current attorney general has ordered an investigation into Frimpong-Boateng’s report, but we await to see what action, if any, will be taken.

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. Ghana’s war on illegal mining has failed – we set out to find out why – https://theconversation.com/ghanas-war-on-illegal-mining-has-failed-we-set-out-to-find-out-why-262644

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Magnus Killander, Professor, Centre for Human Rights in the Faculty of Law, University of Pretoria

South Africa instituted a case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in the Hague in late December 2023, claiming Israel was violating the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide through its actions in Gaza, and requesting provisional measures. Human rights law scholar Magnus Killander explains the process and why it’s so slow. International law, including the ICJ’s provisional measures, are binding on states. However, international law does not enforce itself and all states have an obligation to attend to the situation.

Why could it take until 2028 to get a final decision?

On 5 April 2024, the ICJ set two deadlines. It wanted to receive memorials, that is the full arguments related to the case, from South Africa by 28 October 2024 and counter-memorials from Israel by 28 July 2025. Following a request by Israel, the court on 14 April 2025 extended the time for submission of Israel’s counter-memorials to 12 January 2026.

It is likely that Israel, in a bid to delay the proceedings, will file preliminary objections, such as dealing with the jurisdiction of the ICJ to hear the case. South Africa would then have a few months to respond. Then an oral hearing on preliminary objections would be held, probably towards the end of 2026 or early 2027.

A few months after the hearing, the ICJ would deliver a judgment on the preliminary objections. Preliminary objections are unlikely to be successful, so the ICJ would then set a new deadline for Israel’s counter-memorial on the merits, which might again be extended. When Israel’s counter-memorial has been submitted, there may be a request from South Africa for a reply and from Israel for a rejoinder.

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Read more:
South Africa’s genocide case against Israel: expert sets out what to expect from the International Court of Justice

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At some point, the court would consider requests from states to intervene, and set timelines for their submissions.

So far, the following states have filed requests to intervene: Nicaragua, Colombia, Libya, Mexico, Palestine, Spain, Türkiye, Chile, the Maldives, Bolivia, Ireland, Cuba and Belize. Nicaragua subsequently revoked its request.

After the written submissions, the ICJ will schedule an oral hearing. Following this the judges will write the final judgement on the merits of the case. The judgment will be hundreds of pages of detailed factual and legal analysis with separate opinions from many of the 16 judges. The court has 15 permanent judges (including South Africa’s Dire Tladi) and an Israeli ad hoc judge in the South Africa v Israel case.

It is this final judgement that will decide whether Israel breached the Genocide Convention through its actions in Gaza.

Given these lengthy procedures, it is unlikely that the final judgement in the case will be handed down before 2028.

Does it usually take this long?

Yes.

The South Africa v Israel case can be compared to the Gambia v Myanmar case. In November 2019 The Gambia brought the case that Myanmar’s treatment of the Rohingya constituted genocide.

The ICJ handed down a judgment on preliminary objections on 22 July 2022. A hearing on the merits is yet to be scheduled. The case is likely to be concluded in 2026.

The first case brought to the ICJ under the Genocide Convention, Bosnia and Herzegovina v Serbia and Montenegro, was submitted in 1993. The final judgment was delivered in 2007.

The second case, Croatia v Serbia, was submitted in 1999 and the final judgment was delivered in 2015.

The ICJ has so far held a state accountable for genocide in one case.

In its 2007 case, it held Serbia and Montenegro responsible for the 1995 genocide in Srebrenica. The ICJ case had limited impact. However, it should be noted that Ratko Mladić, a Bosnian Serb military leader, was arrested in Serbia in 2011 and transferred to the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia as called for in the ICJ judgment. In 2017 he was convicted by the tribunal for the genocide in Srebrenica, a judgment which was confirmed on appeal in 2021, 26 years after the Srebrenica massacre.

In the two cases against Serbia, the court held that, apart from the Srebrenica massacre, the mens rea, the “specific intent” to destroy a group or part of a group, had not been proven. The main difference with the Myanmar and Israel cases is that the state of Serbia did not participate itself directly in the conflict.

In both the Gambia v Myanmar and the South Africa v Israel final judgments, the main discussion will likely be in relation to whether the mens rea requirement has been met.

In my view most of the ICJ judges will find that both acts of genocide and incitement to genocide have taken place.

What’s the point then?

The orders of the ICJ are binding on states, but are often ignored. This is in line with the general difficulty of enforcing international law, in particular international human rights law and international humanitarian law.

Only political pressure from outside and inside Israel will bring about change, as it is clear that the Israeli government considers only itself as the judge of its actions. In addition, enforcement measures by the UN security council are not possible given the position of the United States. It is a permanent member of the council, with veto power, but does not want to criticise Israel and is its main supplier of weapons.

The issue of Palestine has also been raised in a case before the ICJ that does not directly involve Israel. In March 2024, Nicaragua instituted a case against Germany in relation to its export of weapons to Israel, which it argued facilitated genocide in Gaza. On 30 April 2024, the court decided not to issue provisional measures against Germany since it had shown the measures it had taken to restrict weapons exports to Israel following the invasion of Gaza.

It was only in August 2025, however, that Germany declared it would suspend the export of weapons that could be used in the war in Gaza.

Another international court based in The Hague is also trying to hold violators of international crimes to account. The International Criminal Court (ICC) deals with international criminal responsibility as opposed to state responsibility – the purview of the ICJ. Israel’s prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former defence minister Yoav Gallant have been indicted by the ICC. The three Hamas leaders against whom the ICC prosecutor sought indictments have been killed by Israel.

It is unlikely that we will see Netanyahu in the dock in The Hague since he avoids travelling to countries that are parties to the ICC Statute and would thus be obliged to surrender him to the ICC.

Of course, the ICC is not the only possibility in relation to criminal accountability. For example, prosecutors in Sweden are investigating war crimes in Gaza.

The wheels of international justice grind exceedingly slowly and will never be sufficient on their own to bring about lasting change.

And the latest developments?

The provisional measures issued by the ICJ on 26 January 2024, 28 March 2024 and 24 May 2024 remain in force and are binding. These included the provision of

urgently needed basic services and humanitarian assistance.

Clearly this measure and and others have not been complied with.

South Africa has not requested any additional provisional measures since the last ones were issued in May 2024. However, advisory proceedings provide another way to address the situation.

On 23 December 2024, the UN general assembly requested an advisory opinion on the obligations of Israel in relation to the presence and activities of the United Nations, other international organisations and third states in relation to the Occupied Palestinian Territory. Hearings were held from 28 April to 2 May 2025. The advisory opinion is likely to be delivered soon and address the issue of access to humanitarian aid.

This is the third advisory opinion proceedings dealing with Palestine. In December 2003, the UN general assembly requested an advisory opinion on Israel’s construction of a wall separating it from the occupied territories in the West Bank. The advisory opinion of the ICJ was delivered on 9 July 2004, finding that the construction of the wall was in violation of international law. On 19 January 2023, the UN general assembly requested an advisory opinion on the legal consequences arising from the policies and practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem. The court delivered its advisory opinion on 19 July 2024, confirming its view that the occupation was illegal and that Israel had an obligation to leave the occupied territory.

Magnus Killander 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. Is Israel committing genocide in Gaza? International court will take years to decide, but states have a duty to act now – https://theconversation.com/is-israel-committing-genocide-in-gaza-international-court-will-take-years-to-decide-but-states-have-a-duty-to-act-now-263076

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Adam Habib, Vice-Chancellor, SOAS, University of London

South Africa finds itself in a dangerous historical moment. The world order is under threat from its own primary architect. The US wants to remain the premier global political power without taking on any of its responsibilities.

This dangerous moment also presents opportunities.

South Africa’s response has been one of strategic autonomy. This involves taking independent and non-aligned positions on global affairs, to navigate between competing world powers. But South African policymakers lack the political acumen and bureaucratic ability required to navigate this complex global order and to exploit the new possibilities.

Strategic autonomy is not the norm in global affairs. It is very rare for small countries to succeed at it without at least some costs.

Drawing from our expertise – as a political scientist and an economist working on the international economy – we conclude that if South Africa is to succeed in its strategic autonomy ambitions the country must do three things. First, its economic and foreign policy priority must be the African continent. Second, it must pursue bureaucratic excellence, especially in its diplomatic and security apparatus. Third, it must prepare for reprisals that are likely to follow its choice of an independent path to global affairs.

Strategic autonomy

A handful of countries have been able to pursue strategic autonomy in navigating the international system. They include Brazil, India and the Republic of Ireland.

These countries have four necessary assets: global economic importance; leverage; bureaucratic capability; and political will and agency manifested in foreign policy cohesiveness and agility.

India’s size – over 1.4 billion people and the fourth largest market in the world – makes it a location of both production and consumption. This has become more important given the US and western desire to create a counter balance to China as a low-cost producer and a market for exports.

Brazil’s assets are its geographic size, its mid-size population (three times South Africa’s), its mineral wealth, and its political importance to South America. It is also the tenth largest economy in the world.

Ireland is a small country, but it uses its strategic location in the European Union to influence global affairs.

South Africa is currently lacking on all these fronts. But, with strategic planning and reforms, and in partnership with other African countries, it is possible to enhance the country’s strategic importance to the global economy.

Where to from here?

If South Africa is to succeed as a nation, become globally relevant, and have autonomy in the global economy, it must recognise its challenges, understand their drivers and address them pragmatically.

So what should it do?

First, it’s important to recognise that South Africa is a small country. Its economy is marginal to the rest of the world. The continent of Africa has a population of around 1.5 billion people, which is likely to double by 2070 – the only part of the global economy in which demographic growth will occur.

Purely in terms of population size, Africa will be more important than ever before.

This can only be a strategic lever if countries across the continent integrate their economies more strongly. Thus, South Africa’s economic and foreign policy should focus on Africa and on building the African Continental Free Trade Area. Without this, its long-term economic development is in danger and it can’t develop the political leverage that enables independence in global affairs.

With its African partners, South Africa should be rebalancing its international trade. It should shift from being an exporter of raw materials to being a manufacturing and service economy.

Many countries across Africa have deposits of minerals that are strategically important to the global economy, especially as the climate transition shapes relations. This must be used to build integration across the continent so the region engages with powerful economies as a regional bloc.

Second, professional excellence must be taken seriously. South Africa’s political stewardship of the economy has been poor, and driven by narrow political objectives of the ruling party-linked elite. For example, policy in the important mining sector has been chaotic, at best. It has not served as a developmental stimulant or as a political lever for strategic autonomy.

Specific to international affairs, South Africa has to professionalise the diplomatic corps. It has been significantly weakened and its professional capability eroded through political appointments. These make up the vast majority of ambassadorial deployments.

There should be limits to the political appointments of ambassadors from the cohort of former African National Congress politicians and their family members.

In addition, South Africa should have fewer embassies, located in more strategic countries, with appropriate budgets to their job. It is embarrassing that embassies in places like London don’t have enough budget to market the country, undertake advocacy and advance the country’s national agenda.

But professional excellence needs to be extended far beyond the diplomatic corps.

South Africa cannot continue to be compromised by incompetent municipal and national governance. And this is not solely the result of corruption and cadre deployment. It’s also tied to a transformation agenda that eschews academic and professional excellence.

In addition, South Africa cannot pretend to be leading an independent path in global affairs without having the security apparatus that goes with such leadership. On this score, the country is sadly lacking.

Its security apparatus – the South African National Defence Force, police and intelligence service – needs attention. The defence force is poorly funded and, like the police and intelligence, largely a “social service” for former ANC operatives combatants.

Third, South Africa needs to prepare for the reprisals that are likely to follow if it charts an independent path in global affairs, such as the current response from the Trump administration to discipline South Africa for taking an autonomous position on Gaza.

This requires understanding the form that such reprisals could take and their consequences and being prepared for them. This would require diplomatic agility to proactively seek new markets, alternative sources of investment and additional political allies.

In contrast, South Africa’s responses have largely been reactive.

Dangers, as well as opportunities

While it’s a dangerous and uncertain world, it is also full of new possibilities. A new bipolar or multipolar world could enable South Africa and Africa to play off global powers against each other, to maximise opportunities for national economic development and independence.

This will only happen if South Africans collectively become agents of their own change. It will require developing leverage which others take seriously, and a government and public administration that works for the people of the country.

Imraan Valodia receives funding from foundations that support independent academic research.

Adam Habib 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 has chosen a risky approach to global politics: 3 steps it must take to succeed – https://theconversation.com/south-africa-has-chosen-a-risky-approach-to-global-politics-3-steps-it-must-take-to-succeed-262370

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Michelle Moyd, Associate Professor, Department of History, Michigan State University

Tanzania has long enjoyed a reputation as a peaceful country. In contrast to most of its neighbours, this east African nation of 67 million people has largely avoided large-scale violence within its borders.

That didn’t seem likely in the early years after independence from Britain in December 1961. A little over two years into independence – in January 1964 – the founding president, Julius Nyerere, faced two political crises. The first started on 12 January 1964 in the form of the Zanzibar Revolution. Weeks of violence and destruction by Afro-Shirazi Party members followed. As many as 16,000 Zanzibaris were killed or forced into exile.

Then the country’s military, the Tanganyika Rifles, mutinied. Its soldiers were incensed over inadequate pay, loss of privileges, and poor prospects for upward mobility. A rattled Nyerere needed British military support to quell the mutiny. He ordered the arrests of its leaders, and effectively dismantled the entire force.

Nyerere then faced the dilemma of leading a new nation-state with no army and few resources to build one. His socialist agenda (Ujamaa, in Kiswahili) had prioritised other aspects of nation-building, especially education and public health. Nonetheless, with assistance from the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) and the willingness of some of its member states to provide troops, the Tanzania People’s Defence Force was established in September 1964.

In his new book, Ujamaa’s Army: The Creation and Evolution of the Tanzania People’s Defence Force, 1964-1979, Charles G. Thomas, a scholar of post-colonial African military history, skilfully narrates this complex and absorbing history. The book covers the formation and transformations of the defence force through the new nation’s first 15 years as it shed its connections to the colonial past and charted a new path.

Unlike other writing on African armies – particularly the body of work on colonial armies – this one does not centre rank-and-file troops. Instead, Thomas’s analysis is based on rich interviews with high-ranking officers who led and moulded the force in its first two decades. This has enabled him to offer a top-down view of the construction of the army.

A rocky start

Nyerere undertook the work of unifying Tanganyika and Zanzibar in the first few months of 1964 with an eye to the region’s security. The Zanzibar revolution and the Afro-Shirazi Party’s Marxism had called attention to the island as a potential Marxist outpost. Violence against the island’s ruling party and those perceived as wealthy elites seemed to bolster this perception. In the context of the cold war, this fuelled western fears of Zanzibar becoming the “Cuba of east Africa”. An influx of Soviet and Chinese military advisers to Zanzibar made western powers nervous.

Nyerere and foreign minister Oscar Kambona worked with Afro-Shirazi Party leader Abeid Karume to unify Tanganyika and Zanzibar to reassure westerners.

The rollout of the defence force in September 1964 thus included members of the Zanzibari People’s Liberation Army. This signalled that the initial 1,000-man army would serve the larger interests of socialist Tanzania.

A regional role

Throughout the 1960s, Tanzania became, alongside Zambia, Botswana, Lesotho, Angola and Mozambique, a supporter of southern African liberation struggles. The OAU formally recognised this group of nations as the “frontline states” in 1975.

Nyerere convinced the OAU Liberation Committee to set up its headquarters in Dar es Salaam in 1963 because Tanganyika was already hosting many southern African exiles. Also, conflicts in neighbouring states, such as Mozambique, were spilling over into Tanganyika. It became the nerve centre for coordinating African liberation efforts.

Liberation organisations from across southern Africa also established offices in Dar es Salaam. These included the African National Congress and the Pan-Africanist Congress from South Africa; the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA); Zimbabwe African People’s Union (Zapu) and Zimbabwe African National Union (Zanu); South West Africa People’s Organisation (Swapo) from Namibia; and Mozambique Liberation Front (Frelimo).

The Tanzanian defence force took on a key role in frontline liberation struggles. In 1964 it established the Special Duties Unit, which provided a logistics pipeline to serve liberation armies.

The defence force also established training camps for liberation armies within Tanzania. And it took on a protective and support function in southern Tanzania, where Frelimo’s operations against the Portuguese embroiled communities.

Tanzania’s involvement in struggles against the white settler states of southern Africa intensified in the late 1960s and early 1970s. After Portugal retreated from its colonies, Nyerere sent the defence force to help stabilise the new Frelimo government in Mozambique against the South African- and Rhodesian-backed guerrilla force Renamo.

At the same time, the book explains, Tanzania was contending with the disruptive politics and threatening military actions of its northern neighbour, Uganda.

Uganda gained independence from Britain in 1962. In 1971 Idi Amin seized power in a military coup that ousted Uganda’s first president, Milton Obote.

Amin and Nyerere antagonised each other personally, politically and militarily for the next eight years.

In 1972, Amin bombed Tanzanian border cities in retaliation for Nyerere’s support of the invasion of Uganda by Obote supporters in 1972. In 1978, Uganda annexed the Kagera Salient across its south-western border with Tanzania. In 1979, Tanzania invaded Uganda and ousted Amin from power.

The Tanzanian defence force remained in Uganda for nearly two years, providing security as the new government attempted to re-establish services and governance for post-Amin Uganda.

Catalyst for new inquiries

Thomas’s sustained research is based in large measure on hard-won connections with defence force officers. He also used alternative sources rather than relying heavily on Tanzanian, British and US archives. Canadian military archives, for example, showed how Tanzania’s forces benefited from Canadian training and resources.

OAU archival materials helped with understanding the Tanzania People’s Defence Force as part of African solidarity efforts against apartheid and colonialism.

The book also paints a clear picture of Nyerere’s role in Africa’s postcolonial politics. It shows him as a shrewd negotiator and a “pragmatic pluralist” in a fraught cold war world, where there were many competitors for military aid, but few sources to provide it to a country seeking a non-aligned position. His decision to form the Tanzania People’s Defence Force, and his encouragement of its role in supporting liberation struggles, helped Tanzania stand apart from its neighbours.

Michelle Moyd 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. Tanzania’s independence leader Julius Nyerere built a new army fit for African liberation: how he did it – https://theconversation.com/tanzanias-independence-leader-julius-nyerere-built-a-new-army-fit-for-african-liberation-how-he-did-it-246688

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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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.

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

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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.

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.

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

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.

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

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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.

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

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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.

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

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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.

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

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.

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

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.

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Chad’s parliamentary election hands Mahamat Déby absolute control. Here’s why it’s dangerous

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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.

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Coups in west Africa have five things in common: knowing what they are is key to defending democracy

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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.

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

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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.

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

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.

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

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.

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