Is there a Christian genocide in Nigeria? Evidence shows all faiths are under attack by terrorists

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Olayinka Ajala, Associate professor in Politics and International Relations, Leeds Beckett University

Terrorism and insurgency have ravaged parts of Nigeria since 2009, especially in the northern regions. Tens of thousands of Nigerians have been killed and millions have been displaced by the violence. Nigeria was ranked sixth in the 2025 Global Terrorism Index, with a score of 7.658, moving up from eighth place in 2023 and 2024.

US president Donald Trump declared Nigeria a “country of particular concern” in November 2025.

This was the result of a campaign by US congressman Riley Moore, who alleged that there was an “alarming and ongoing persecution of Christians” in the west African country. The congressman stated that 7,000 Nigerian Christians had been killed in 2025 alone, an average of 35 a day.

Trump also threatened to take direct military action against Islamist militant groups operating in Nigeria.

In response, Nigeria’s President Bola Tinubu objected, stating that the US characterisation of Nigeria did not reflect the country’s reality or values. He said successive governments had made efforts to uphold peaceful existence among diverse faith communities.

I have been researching conflicts, terrorism and the formation of insurgent groups in Nigeria for over a decade.

To understand the degree and intensity of terrorist and insurgency activities in Nigeria in the last 10 years, I analysed data from Armed Conflict Location and Event Data (ACLED), an independent violence monitor.

The analysis shows it is difficult, if not impossible, to delineate the killings based on religious affiliations. All the religions in the country have been affected, and there have been fatalities across several ethnic and religious lines.

Is there a religious genocide in Nigeria?

Religious violence started in Nigeria in 1953, seven years before the country gained independence.

Successive military and civilian regimes have since struggled to curtail the string of religious violence, which is often linked to issues such as ethnicity, resource management, competition for resources and colonial boundaries. (British colonialists placed different ethnic groups with sometimes different values in one country.)

Figure 1 shows that while the number of attacks carried out by terrorist and insurgent groups have been roughly similar in the last four years, the number of fatalities has declined.

This chart does not explain the categories of people attacked. To understand whether there is a disproportionate attack on Christians, I compared the number of attacks on churches and mosques in Nigeria in the last 10 years.

The data shows that non-state actors have attacked both churches and mosques in Nigeria. While there have been more attacks on churches in the last six years, the data reveals that there were more attacks on mosques in 2015 and 2017.

Generally, Nigeria’s population is considered to be roughly evenly split between the two religions, with only around 0.6% adhering to traditional African religions or other beliefs.

Although it is difficult to extract the number of fatalities in these cases, the number of attacks on places of worship is an indication that both Christians and Muslims are under attack by terrorist and insurgent groups in Nigeria.

Trump’s history with Nigeria

This is the second time Trump has designated Nigeria as a country of particular concern. The first time was in December 2020, when he stated that the government of Nigeria was not doing enough to protect the safety of Nigerians, especially Christians. This was under the regime of former president Muhammadu Buhari.

Events leading to the designation of Nigeria as a country of particular concern this time started in March 2025, two months after Trump was sworn in for a second term. The US House foreign affairs sub-committee on Africa approved measures urging the president to impose sanctions on Nigeria due to the widespread persecution of Christians.

In addition, the US Commission on International Religious Freedom report on Nigeria (2025) argued that religious freedom in Nigeria remains poor. It said the federal and state governments in Nigeria continue to “tolerate attacks or failed to respond to violent actions” by non-state actors on Christians in the country.

The commission recommended that the US government designate Nigeria as a country of particular concern for “engaging in and tolerating systematic, ongoing, and egregious violations of religious freedom, as defined by the International Religious Freedom Act”.

What the designation means for Nigeria

The “country of particular concern” status is an official classification under the US International Religious Freedom Act of 1998. The act requires the president of the US to declare this status where the government of a country has “engaged in or tolerated particularly severe violations of religious freedom”.

Such violations include arbitrary execution based on faith, torture or inhuman treatment based on religion as well as other denials of the rights to life, liberty, or security because of a person’s religion.

In the case of Nigeria, there is no evidence that any of these acts have been carried out by the government.

The designation of a country as country of particular concern requires the US government to consider a range of options for ending the violations identified. The first steps include diplomatic or direct engagement, public condemnation or withdrawal of assistance. This could be followed by further actions such as economic sanctions and withdrawal of aid or other forms of economic assistance.

The US government, rather than engaging in diplomatic or direct engagement with the Nigerian government as a first step, has already threatened sanctions such as the withdrawal of aid and direct military action.

What should the US do to support Nigeria?

To assist the country in its fight against terrorism, the US needs to reconsider the classification of Nigeria and revert to the first step identified earlier: diplomacy and direct engagement.

Second, the US should support Nigeria’s effort to identify the sponsors of these groups and their sources of finance within and outside the country.

Third, there is a need for a regional and international approach to curb the menace of terrorism in Nigeria and the west African and Sahel region. The US could play a significant role in supporting organisations such as the Multi-National Joint Task Force which was set up to fight terrorism in the region.

The Conversation

Olayinka Ajala 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 there a Christian genocide in Nigeria? Evidence shows all faiths are under attack by terrorists – https://theconversation.com/is-there-a-christian-genocide-in-nigeria-evidence-shows-all-faiths-are-under-attack-by-terrorists-268929

Can South Africa’s social grants help people make a better life? Research offers hope

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Leila Patel, Professor of Social Development Studies, University of Johannesburg

There is now a growing global consensus that additional measures are needed to support the agency of social protection beneficiaries. Such support will strengthen their self-sustaining livelihoods and pathways that would accelerate social and economic improvements and participation in the labour market, and promote wider social and political stability.

For instance, emerging evidence from 104 programmes around the world has found a net gain of US$4-$5 when cash and livelihood support are provided. Cash plus labour activation programmes for youth that are designed to address barriers to economic inclusion were effective human capital investments, leading to improved outcomes.

South Africa, which has one of the largest cash transfer programmes, is reviewing its social protection system. At issue is what complementary cash plus employment and livelihoods interventions government needs to consider if it is to introduce some kind of basic income support grant.

Calls for such a grant in South Africa have gained momentum since the government introduced the COVID-19 social relief distress grant in May 2020. It now stands at R370 (about US$21) a person a month, reaching over 8 million recipients.

These issues were discussed at a recent two-day policy colloquium on the future of social protection and its potential to promote economic inclusion hosted by South Africa’s Department of Social Development and the Presidency. South Africa will also draw from lessons learnt from the Second World Summit for Social Development in Doha. Lessons learnt will be shared from countries such as Brazil, Indonesia and Ghana. These countries are attempting to integrate or craft economic and social inclusion policies onto existing cash transfer programmes.

The exponential growth in social assistance, especially cash transfers, has helped to alleviate extreme poverty globally. Over the last decade alone, the cash transfers have reduced poverty by 11% on average and extreme poverty by 37% in low- and middle-income countries.

The University of Johannesburg’s Centre for Social Development in Africa has done extensive research in this area over almost two decades.

The centre’s research findings are that social grant beneficiaries in South Africa are pointing the way. Beneficiaries already use grants to improve livelihood outcomes. There is much to learn from how grant beneficiaries are using their agency to improve income and meet consumption needs.

Reimagining social grants

Here I share stories drawn from our research on grants, livelihoods, employment and services over the years. All names are anonymised.

Nandi was 23 years old when our colleague, the late Tessa Hochfeld, interviewed her in 2018. She left school at the end of grade 9. She had three children; one died of pneumonia at 20 days of age.

She is one of four out of 10 primary caregivers who receive the child support grant nationally – now a basic R560 (US$32) a month – who did not pursue any livelihood activity. Livelihood activity is anything that a person does to make a living to meet their basic needs.

Nandi was unemployed and likely to face long term unemployment. Her children are part of the country’s largest cash transfer programme. It is one of the 10th largest in the world, reaching 82% of poor children.

Nandi’s story is similar to that of other young women who are beneficiaries of the child grant. It tells of the complexity of human needs, risks and vulnerabilities that young women face, which is carefully documented in Hochfeld’s book.

Supplementing incomes

Only a quarter of all grant beneficiaries were engaged in informal work in 2021.

They said they were variously motivated to engage in complementary livelihood activities by a desire for self-efficacy, and a strong desire to work rather than sit at home.

They engaged in informal, micro-livelihood activities on the streets as well as in their homes and backyards. These included buying and selling goods, supplying goods, building, repairs, photography and running restaurants or taverns. They also engaged in renting out accommodation, traditional healing, fahfee betting, recycling, farming, community gardening, beadwork, sewing and shoe making.

They received very little support from the government. Some received support from an NGO. Another received one-off technical support from the Department of Agriculture and Land Affairs. The majority turned to their families for support, or to informal borrowing, and used grant money to start their businesses.

Luthando is a 41-year-old ex-offender who wanted to reintegrate into the community. His girlfriend challenged him to earn an honest living instead of robbing other people.

She gave him R150 (about US$8.66) out of his son’s R560 ($32.33) child support grant to buy goods for resale. He borrowed another R300 (about $17.32) from a mashonisa (money lender). He now runs a micro business. He said proudly, displaying his wares:

I can say that everything you see on this table today started with R450 (about $30).

Sthandiso used part of the child support grant for his two sons to become a photographer and a videographer. Two other child support grant recipients pooled their money to buy chickens, pluck them and sell them on grant days. “This way we doubled our money.”

But they faced many obstacles such as a lack of jobs, safety issues, childcare, high transport costs, lack of access to capital and credit, lack of experience, knowledge and information as well as skills in financial literacy, mentorship and coaching.

Sphamandla’s story tells of how his life changed:

I have not yet reached financial independence because I have not gotten to where I want. Having money to feed my family and do some little things is different from being financially independent … It is true that I no longer borrow or depend on anybody to feed my family, but I still have the problem of not having money to buy a house and do other things that I need. But I am hopeful that slowly I will get there through these things I am doing for money. That is why we save money little by little every month.

Looking forward

These stories dispel myths that grants create dependency on government. They do not idolise the grant beneficiaries but open the door to thinking differently about how to support the agency of the millions of men and women who rely on social grants by building their livelihood capabilities.

The stories of the recipients show that there is scope for exploring new areas of employment growth and support for informal workers. A thorny issue is whether there should be behavioural conditions attached to a redesigned Social Relief of Distress grant that would compel recipients to pursue employment and livelihoods.

Given South Africa’s huge unemployment rate, this is not an option. Supporting beneficiary choice and aligning hard and soft incentives could go a long way to supporting human capabilities of people that have been left behind, in promoting social and labour market inclusion and inclusive growth.

One way to do this is to grow and strengthen grant beneficiaries’ participation in the informal economy, which could be an important driver of employment in the country.

The Conversation

Leila Patel received funding from the National Research Foundation and the Department of Science, Technology and Innovation. She is a collaborating partner with the Interim Chair for Welfare and Social Development, Centre for Social Development in Africa, University of Johannesburg.

ref. Can South Africa’s social grants help people make a better life? Research offers hope – https://theconversation.com/can-south-africas-social-grants-help-people-make-a-better-life-research-offers-hope-268994

African countries need strong development banks: how they can push back against narratives to weaken them

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Misheck Mutize, Post Doctoral Researcher, Graduate School of Business (GSB), University of Cape Town

A quiet but consequential contest is playing out in the global financial architecture. One that could determine Africa’s ability to finance its own development.

In recent months, powerful voices from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the Paris Club and US investment bank JP Morgan have questioned the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development finance institutions. These institutions include the Africa Export-Import Bank (Afreximbank) and the Trade and Development Bank (TDB).

Preferred creditor status is a long-standing practice in global finance. It gives multilateral development finance institutions priority in being repaid when a country faces financial distress. The idea is simple. These institutions lend to promote development. During crises, they step in with counter cyclical lending – increasing support when commercial creditors pull out.

This reliability depends on their strong credit ratings, which in turn rest on the assurance that they will be repaid even when others are not. That assurance is what the preferred creditor status guarantees. The World Bank, IMF and regional development banks in Asia and Latin America all enjoy this protection as a matter of practice. Borrowers respect it because breaching it would threaten their access to future concessional lending – loans offered on much lower interest rates and other terms.

The voices against African multilateral finance institutions argue that they are too small to deserve preferred creditor status. Or that, unlike the World Bank and IMF, they do not lend at concessional rates. JP Morgan has even warned that Africa’s development banks might lose their status altogether.

The debate about the preferred creditor status of Africa’s multilateral development finance institutions may sound technical. It is not. If left unchallenged, this narrative could justify the continued high interest rates Africa faces on international markets.

Drawing on decades of researching Africa’s capital markets and the institutions that govern them, I recommend that African governments must reaffirm and defend the preferred creditor status of multilateral development banks. African multilateral development banks must also act collectively to defend their credibility. And the African Union must embed the preferred creditor status of the continent’s development banks in its financial sovereignty agenda.

Unwritten privilege vs law

For the IMF, World Bank and Paris Club, the preferred creditor status is an unwritten privilege. For African multilateral development banks, it is law.

The founding treaties of Afreximbank, the African Development Bank and TDB explicitly enshrine this status. These treaties are registered under Article 102 of the UN Charter, making them binding under international law. African member states have also ratified them into law, domestically.

This makes the status of African multilateral development banks more legally secure than that of Bretton Woods institutions. Yet it is the African banks whose status is now described as “uncertain” or “controversial”.

African governments must correct this perception. The African Union and its members have already endorsed this principle, but stronger, coordinated public statements are needed, especially from finance ministers and central banks. The aim will be to reassure investors that these protections are real, enforceable and backed by political will.

Collective action

Institutions such as Afreximbank, the AfDB, TDB, Shelter Afriqué Development Bank and the Africa Finance Corporation have grown rapidly. Together, they hold more than US$640 billion in assets, expanding by about 15% a year. They have mobilised billions from global capital markets and stepped up lending when global finance withdrew. They have diversified into the panda bonds in China, proving their resilience and capacity to tap into nontraditional capital markets.

Their success, however, has attracted resistance. International creditors and rating agencies have started questioning their preferred creditor status, describing it as “weak” or “shaky”. This has real consequences. It weakens investor confidence. Investors demand higher returns, raising the cost of borrowing for the banks and, by extension, for African countries, based on a risk factor that does not exist.

To counter this, African multilateral development banks must coordinate their responses. The newly formed Association of African Multilateral Financial Institutions is a promising platform. It should be more active and become the unified voice defending the preferred creditor status. It should be used to issue joint legal opinions, engage directly with credit rating agencies and Paris Club members, and run global investor education campaigns that clarify the legal standing and strong performance of African multilateral development banks. The continent’s development banks must speak with one voice. Silence allows others to define their credibility.

Continent’s financial sovereignty

Protecting preferred creditor status is about more than technical finance. It is about sovereignty. Africa is building its own financial ecosystem through the African Credit Rating Agency. The other financial institutions in the ecosystem – which aren’t yet operational – are the African Central Bank, African Investment Bank and African Monetary Fund. Their purpose will be to reduce dependence on external actors and keep Africa’s development agenda in African hands.

A battle of perception

Global finance runs on perception which is shaped by narratives. Those who control the narratives control the cost of money. If the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development banks continues to be misrepresented, Africa’s access to affordable finance will remain hostage to external opinion rather than legal reality.

It will also weaken African development banks just as they are becoming more effective. Their ability to borrow cheaply and on favourable terms depends on their credit ratings, which rest on the assumption that they will be repaid first in case of distress. If that assumption is shaken, borrowing costs will rise.

By reaffirming the legal basis of the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development banks, coordinating their response and embedding this status in the AU’s financial sovereignty framework, African governments and multilateral development lenders can protect one of the most important tools for affordable development finance.

This is not just about defending institutions, it’s about defending Africa’s right to finance its own future on fair terms.

The Conversation

Misheck Mutize is affiliated with the African Union – African Peer Review Mechanism as a Lead Expert on credit ratings

ref. African countries need strong development banks: how they can push back against narratives to weaken them – https://theconversation.com/african-countries-need-strong-development-banks-how-they-can-push-back-against-narratives-to-weaken-them-267989

Social work is a serious profession – why not youth work? What South Africa needs to get right

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Thulani Andrew Chauke, Lecturer, University of South Africa

About 3.5 million South Africans aged 15-24 are disengaged from the formal economy and education system. In the first quarter of 2025, 37.1% of young people were not in employment, education, or training.

These alarming figures highlight an urgent need for youth development.
Interventions such as skills and entrepreneurship development are needed to expertly guide young people towards participating in the mainstream economy.

Designing and running those interventions requires professional youth workers.

Youth work is an emerging profession within the social services sector. It aims to promote positive youth development through young people’s voluntary participation. The expertise needed in this work includes empathy, strong communication, and advocacy skills. It’s similar to social work but its main focus is the empowerment of young people. Examples include peer-to-peer literacy support and community-based drug prevention campaigns.

For youth work to be regarded as a profession, it must be organised and subject to regulations and standards that guide practice. This involves the establishment of a code of ethics and standardised formal training in the higher education sector.

In South Africa, much of this kind of work is done by non-profit organisations. It is often performed by a mix of qualified practitioners (people with a degree or diploma in youth development) and dedicated, yet unqualified, volunteers. The country does not have a database to indicate how many youth workers there are.

It’s often treated as voluntary or ancillary work. The result is that some practitioners are poorly remunerated and the field lacks the stature and regulation of other social services, such as social work.

South Africa does have policy and legislative frameworks to support youth work. These include the National Youth Policy 2015 and the National Youth Development Agency’s
2022 Integrated Youth Development Strategy.

So, given the need for youth work and the supporting policies, why hasn’t youth work been professionalised in South Africa? As an academic who researches youth development initiatives, I wanted to understand this better. In a recent study, my co-author Doris Kakuru (a social scientist in Canada) and I asked youth work stakeholders for their perspectives on the barriers to professionalisation.

We asked a selection of 30 people involved in youth development work, including qualified youth workers, a policymaker, and youth development experts from universities. They identified three main barriers:

  • lack of political will

  • absence of organised spaces for the profession

  • non-existence of a standardised curriculum.

Removing these barriers would result in a sector with formal ethics, qualifications and standards. This would protect the workers and the young people they work with, and make their work more effective.

South Africa’s youth work landscape

Unlike that of teachers or social workers, youth work remains unregulated. Practitioners are not required to hold accredited qualifications, there is no professional association representing them, and there is no uniform standard of practice.

The University of Venda in South Africa’s Limpopo province offers a four-year Bachelor’s degree in Youth Development and the University of South Africa (distance learning) previously offered a diploma. Many youth workers have been trained since 1999. But the field has not achieved full professional recognition: rules, ethics, formal training, standards, organisation.

To explore the reasons for this, our study used a qualitative research approach. The participants had a qualification in youth development, work experience in the sector, or teaching experience in youth development qualifications.

Our findings identified three main barriers to the professionalisation of youth work in South Africa:

The first is lack of political will. Despite policy acknowledgements, in practice there is no political commitment to regulating youth work. Respondents in our study said that individuals in positions of political authority fear that formal regulation, which would require formal qualifications, could jeopardise their own positions as “gatekeepers” in the sector.

The second barrier is an absence of advocacy spaces. Fragmentation within the sector means there is no organised, professional youth work association to advocate for regulation. Qualified practitioners are not sufficiently organised to champion their profession.

Thirdly, there is no standardised curriculum to train youth workers. This has weakened the professional identity of youth work. Universities use different programme titles (such as Diploma in Youth Development and BA in Youth in Development), making it difficult for graduates to be uniformly recognised as “youth workers”.

Strengthening the machinery of youth development must start with the formal recognition of youth work as a profession. For youth work to be regarded as a profession, it must be organised and subject to regulations and standards that guide youth work practice. This involves the establishment of a code of ethics and formal training in the higher education sector.

This step is crucial to ensuring that interventions are designed, coordinated and managed by skilled, accredited practitioners.

Benefits of recognition

Formal recognition of youth work in South Africa would deliver several benefits:

  • a code of ethics to guide practices, protecting both the youth workers and the young people they serve

  • formal qualifications, ensuring practitioners work with young people in an effective and professional manner

  • minimum standards for all individuals working with young people in informal education settings.

The way forward

To regulate youth work as a profession in South Africa, key stakeholders, including the government and civil society, must take decisive action:

  1. Establish a dedicated task team: The parliamentary portfolio committee on women, youth and persons with disabilities should set up a task team. This should be composed of senior government officials, heads of departments from institutions offering youth development qualifications, youth workers from NGOs, and experts in the field. The task force must oversee the translation of regulatory frameworks into concrete practices.

  2. Standardise curriculum and qualifications: Institutions of higher education must agree on what to teach. This will ensure that graduates share a common understanding of youth development work.

  3. Organise a professional association: Qualified youth workers must form an association. It could accommodate current practitioners (even those without formal qualifications), encouraging them to pursue training.

  4. Prioritise youth work in academia: Staff who teach, design curricula and supervise research must have postgraduate qualifications in youth development.

  5. Mandate qualifications: Qualifications should be a prerequisite for youth development positions in government departments, local government and civil society.

The professionalisation of youth work is not a mere bureaucratic formality; it is an economic and social imperative for the future of South Africa’s youth.

The Conversation

Thulani Andrew Chauke works for University of South Africa. He receives funding from the University through VKP to conduct this study.

ref. Social work is a serious profession – why not youth work? What South Africa needs to get right – https://theconversation.com/social-work-is-a-serious-profession-why-not-youth-work-what-south-africa-needs-to-get-right-267298

AI in the courtroom: the dangers of using ChatGTP in legal practice in South Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Jacques Matthee, Senior Lecturer, University of the Free State

A South African court case made headlines for all the wrong reasons in January 2025. The legal team in Mavundla v MEC: Department of Co-Operative Government and Traditional Affairs KwaZulu-Natal and Others had relied on case law that simply didn’t exist. It had been generated by ChatGPT, a generative artificial intelligence (AI) chatbot developed by OpenAI.

Only two of the nine case authorities the legal team submitted to the High Court were genuine. The rest were AI-fabricated “hallucinations”. The court called this conduct “irresponsible and unprofessional” and referred the matter to the Legal Practice Council, the statutory body that regulates legal practitioners in South Africa, for investigation.

It was not the first time South African courts had encountered such an incident. Parker v Forsyth in 2023 also dealt with fake case law produced by ChatGPT. But the judge was more forgiving in that instance, finding no intent to mislead. The Mavundla ruling marks a turning point: courts are losing patience with legal practitioners who use AI irresponsibly.

We are legal academics who have been doing research on the growing use of AI, particularly generative AI, in legal research and education. While these technologies offer powerful tools for enhancing efficiency and productivity, they also present serious risks when used irresponsibly.

Aspiring legal practitioners who misuse AI tools without proper guidance or ethical grounding risk severe professional consequences, even before their careers begin. Law schools should equip students with the skills and judgment to use AI tools responsibly. But most institutions remain unprepared for the pace at which AI is being adopted.

Very few universities have formal policies or training on AI. Students are left with no guide through this rapidly evolving terrain. Our work calls for a proactive and structured approach to AI education in law schools.

When technology becomes a liability

The advocate in the Mavundla case admitted she had not verified the citations and relied instead on research done by a junior colleague. That colleague, a candidate attorney, claimed to have obtained the material from an online research tool. While she denied using ChatGPT, the pattern matched similar global incidents where lawyers unknowingly filed AI-generated judgments.

In the 2024 American case of Park v Kim, the attorney cited non-existent case law in her reply brief, which she admitted was generated using ChatGPT. In the 2024 Canadian case of Zhang v Chen, the lawyer filed a notice of application containing two non-existent case authorities fabricated by ChatGPT.

The court in Mavundla was unequivocal: no matter how advanced technology becomes, lawyers remain responsible for ensuring that every source they present is accurate. Workload pressure or ignorance of AI’s risks is no defence.

The judge also criticised the supervising attorney for failing to check the documents before filing them. The episode underscored a broader ethical principle: senior lawyers must properly train and supervise junior colleagues.

The lesson here extends far beyond one law firm. Integrity, accuracy and critical thinking are not optional extras in the legal profession. They are core values that must be taught and practised from the beginning, during legal education.

The classroom is the first courtroom

The Mavundla case should serve as a warning to universities. If experienced legal practitioners can fall into AI traps regarding law, students still learning to research and reason can too.

Generative AI tools like ChatGPT can be powerful allies – they can summarise cases, draft arguments and analyse complex texts in seconds. But they can also confidently fabricate information. Because AI models don’t always “know” when they are wrong, they produce text that looks authoritative but may be entirely false.




Read more:
AI can be a danger to students – 3 things universities must do


For students, the dangers are twofold. First, over-reliance on AI can stunt the development of critical research skills. Second, it can lead to serious academic or professional misconduct. A student who submits AI-fabricated content could face disciplinary action at university and reputational damage that follows them into their legal career.

In our paper we argue that, instead of banning AI tools outright, law schools should teach students to use them responsibly. This means developing “AI literacy”: the ability to question, verify and contextualise AI-generated information. Students should learn to treat AI systems as assistants, not authorities.




Read more:
Universities can turn AI from a threat to an opportunity by teaching critical thinking


In South African legal practice, authority traditionally refers to recognised sources such as legislation, judicial precedent and academic commentary, which lawyers cite to support their arguments. These sources are accessed through established legal databases and law reports, a process that, while time-consuming, ensures accuracy, accountability and adherence to the rule of law.

From law faculties to courtrooms

Legal educators can embed AI literacy into existing courses on research methodology, professional ethics and legal writing. Exercises could include verifying AI-generated summaries against real judgments or analysing the ethical implications of relying on machine-produced arguments.

Teaching responsible AI use is not simply about avoiding embarrassment in court. It is about protecting the integrity of the justice system itself. As seen in Mavundla, one candidate attorney’s uncritical use of AI led to professional investigation, public scrutiny and reputational damage to the firm.

The financial risks are also real. Courts can order lawyers to pay costs out of their pockets, when serious professional misconduct occurs. In the digital era, where court judgments and media reports spread instantly online, a lawyer’s reputation can collapse overnight if they are found to have relied on fake or unverified AI material. It would also be beneficial for courts to be trained in detecting fake cases generated by AI.

The way forward

Our study concludes that AI is here to stay, and so is its use in law. The challenge is not whether the legal profession should use AI, but how. Law schools have a critical opportunity, and an ethical duty, to prepare future practitioners for a world where technology and human judgment must work side by side.

Speed and convenience can never replace accuracy and integrity. As AI becomes a routine part of legal research, tomorrow’s lawyers must be trained not just to prompt – but to think.

The Conversation

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. AI in the courtroom: the dangers of using ChatGTP in legal practice in South Africa – https://theconversation.com/ai-in-the-courtroom-the-dangers-of-using-chatgtp-in-legal-practice-in-south-africa-267691

African countries need strong development banks: how they can push back against narrative to weaken them

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Misheck Mutize, Post Doctoral Researcher, Graduate School of Business (GSB), University of Cape Town

A quiet but consequential contest is playing out in the global financial architecture. One that could determine Africa’s ability to finance its own development.

In recent months, powerful voices from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the Paris Club and US investment bank JP Morgan have questioned the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development finance institutions. These institutions include the Africa Export-Import Bank (Afreximbank) and the Trade and Development Bank (TDB).

Preferred creditor status is a long-standing practice in global finance. It gives multilateral development finance institutions priority in being repaid when a country faces financial distress. The idea is simple. These institutions lend to promote development. During crises, they step in with counter cyclical lending – increasing support when commercial creditors pull out.

This reliability depends on their strong credit ratings, which in turn rest on the assurance that they will be repaid even when others are not. That assurance is what the preferred creditor status guarantees. The World Bank, IMF and regional development banks in Asia and Latin America all enjoy this protection as a matter of practice. Borrowers respect it because breaching it would threaten their access to future concessional lending – loans offered on much lower interest rates and other terms.

The voices against African multilateral finance institutions argue that they are too small to deserve preferred creditor status. Or that, unlike the World Bank and IMF, they do not lend at concessional rates. JP Morgan has even warned that Africa’s development banks might lose their status altogether.

The debate about the preferred creditor status of Africa’s multilateral development finance institutions may sound technical. It is not. If left unchallenged, this narrative could justify the continued high interest rates Africa faces on international markets.

Drawing on decades of researching Africa’s capital markets and the institutions that govern them, I recommend that African governments must reaffirm and defend the preferred creditor status of multilateral development banks. African multilateral development banks must also act collectively to defend their credibility. And the African Union must embed the preferred creditor status of the continent’s development banks in its financial sovereignty agenda.

Unwritten privilege vs law

For the IMF, World Bank and Paris Club, the preferred creditor status is an unwritten privilege. For African multilateral development banks, it is law.

The founding treaties of Afreximbank, the African Development Bank and TDB explicitly enshrine this status. These treaties are registered under Article 102 of the UN Charter, making them binding under international law. African member states have also ratified them into law, domestically.

This makes the status of African multilateral development banks more legally secure than that of Bretton Woods institutions. Yet it is the African banks whose status is now described as “uncertain” or “controversial”.

African governments must correct this perception. The African Union and its members have already endorsed this principle, but stronger, coordinated public statements are needed, especially from finance ministers and central banks. The aim will be to reassure investors that these protections are real, enforceable and backed by political will.

Collective action

Institutions such as Afreximbank, the AfDB, TDB, Shelter Afriqué Development Bank and the Africa Finance Corporation have grown rapidly. Together, they hold more than US$640 billion in assets, expanding by about 15% a year. They have mobilised billions from global capital markets and stepped up lending when global finance withdrew. They have diversified into the panda bonds in China, proving their resilience and capacity to tap into nontraditional capital markets.

Their success, however, has attracted resistance. International creditors and rating agencies have started questioning their preferred creditor status, describing it as “weak” or “shaky”. This has real consequences. It weakens investor confidence. Investors demand higher returns, raising the cost of borrowing for the banks and, by extension, for African countries, based on a risk factor that does not exist.

To counter this, African multilateral development banks must coordinate their responses. The newly formed Association of African Multilateral Financial Institutions is a promising platform. It should be more active and become the unified voice defending the preferred creditor status. It should be used to issue joint legal opinions, engage directly with credit rating agencies and Paris Club members, and run global investor education campaigns that clarify the legal standing and strong performance of African multilateral development banks. The continent’s development banks must speak with one voice. Silence allows others to define their credibility.

Continent’s financial sovereignty

Protecting preferred creditor status is about more than technical finance. It is about sovereignty. Africa is building its own financial ecosystem through the African Credit Rating Agency. The other financial institutions in the ecosystem – which aren’t yet operational – are the African Central Bank, African Investment Bank and African Monetary Fund. Their purpose will be to reduce dependence on external actors and keep Africa’s development agenda in African hands.

A battle of perception

Global finance runs on perception which is shaped by narratives. Those who control the narratives control the cost of money. If the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development banks continues to be misrepresented, Africa’s access to affordable finance will remain hostage to external opinion rather than legal reality.

It will also weaken African development banks just as they are becoming more effective. Their ability to borrow cheaply and on favourable terms depends on their credit ratings, which rest on the assumption that they will be repaid first in case of distress. If that assumption is shaken, borrowing costs will rise.

By reaffirming the legal basis of the preferred creditor status of African multilateral development banks, coordinating their response and embedding this status in the AU’s financial sovereignty framework, African governments and multilateral development lenders can protect one of the most important tools for affordable development finance.

This is not just about defending institutions, it’s about defending Africa’s right to finance its own future on fair terms.

The Conversation

Misheck Mutize is affiliated with the African Union – African Peer Review Mechanism as a Lead Expert on credit ratings

ref. African countries need strong development banks: how they can push back against narrative to weaken them – https://theconversation.com/african-countries-need-strong-development-banks-how-they-can-push-back-against-narrative-to-weaken-them-267989

Boys, bullying and belonging: understanding violent initiation at a South African school

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Ndumiso Daluxolo Ngidi, Senior Lecturer, University of KwaZulu-Natal

Violence among learners in South African schools is a pressing concern. The minister of basic education told parliament in 2025 that hundreds of bullying cases had been reported in the first few weeks of the year. Since then, a series of alarming incidents have further drawn public attention.

While these occurrences mirror the high rates of violence in the country, they are also symptoms of systemic challenges within South African schools.

In 2015 the government introduced the National School Safety Framework to set minimum standards of safety and help schools understand and meet their responsibilities. It noted “the relationship between violence and other ecological factors relating to safe and caring schools by locating the school within its broader community”.

The framework suggests an awareness of structural determinants of violence in schools. But the sustained rise in incidents of interpersonal violence among learners points to the need for renewed attention, especially among schoolboys.

We are researchers whose interests include the anthropology of masculinities and health, and inclusive education and children’s geographies. In a recent study we encountered a practice in schools called ukufikisana: a kind of initiation through which senior boys assert their dominance over junior boys, often through violence and intimidation.

Derived from the isiZulu phrase ukufikisana emandleni (“testing each other’s power”), the practice shares similarities with “hazing” or bullying. But it also reveals the social and cultural dimensions of violence within schools. For instance, schoolboys described ukufikisana as how one becomes “fully a boy”, suggesting that the experience and exertion of violence are inevitable.

Our findings demonstrate how ukufikisana reinforces hierarchical gender relations and normalises violence as a means of navigating power and identity among boys. This is deeply entrenched in the school environment.

We suggest that solutions lie in the interplay of poverty, violence and gender norms.

What boys said about bullying

The study
drew on a larger photovoice study exploring learners’ perspectives on violence in and around their school. It focused on 14 teenage boys (aged 14-17) attending a poorly resourced, co-educational school in Inanda, KwaZulu-Natal province. Inanda is an urban area characterised by poverty, unemployment and high levels of violence and crime. Its circumstances are a legacy of the policies applied to black South Africans under apartheid.

The study engaged boys as experts in their own lives, allowing them to share their experiences through images and films. We followed ethical protocols to get consent from schools, parents and learners. A social worker was available to provide support.

We prompted the participants to visually depict what violence looked like in their school environment.

Working in pairs, the boys captured images of simulated acts and experiences of violence using cellphones, discussed them and added captions. Then they presented this material in focus group discussions, which were recorded audiovisually and transcribed. We looked for themes in what was discussed.

The boys produced images showing the various ways that violence emerged at school. In one instance, two participants recreated a stabbing incident in which senior boys threatened to stab a junior boy.

Senior boys spoke of ukufikisana as an initiation practice that reinforced their position as “leaders”. One described the “younger and powerless boys” as “puppets”; another said “it’s to show them who is boss in this school”. Another spoke of it as a “baptism of fire”, saying:

they must always be prepared for it because it is coming for them … We show them that we are in charge of the school and they must respect that.

Younger boys told us:

They don’t listen when we try to stop them; they just threaten to beat us.

I was scared of them. So I just kept quiet and let them do whatever they wanted.

It hurt in more ways than one. One boy said:

Ukufikisana is not just what they do; it is also what they say to you … After that experience, I just kept to myself, and I am now more reserved at school.

What ukufikisana does

From our analysis of what the boys said, it appears that ukufikisana serves a dual function. For senior boys, it works as a rite of passage that solidifies their position as “fully boys”, and warrants their demonstration of physical strength, authority and control. For junior boys, the experience enforces submission and vulnerability, framing them as incomplete or “lesser boys”.




Read more:
Bullies in South African schools were often bullied themselves – insights from an expert


This dynamic normalises violence among boys in school settings. It also perpetuates rigid and harmful ways of being boys at school. At school, boys must always be ready to fight and to show their power through violence.

From this perspective, it’s possible to understand why violence may be prevalent and persisting in some South African schools.




Read more:
Violent behaviour shows up at primary school — and can end there too


For most boys, ukufikisana primes boys to think that bullying and the reinforcement of power through violence are key attributes for their lives. The participants described how this practice shaped their daily interactions, fostering a culture where dominance and submission were ingrained in their understanding of what it meant to be a man.




Read more:
Why girls continue to experience violence at South African schools


These findings align with broader concerns raised in recent anti-bullying research, globally and locally, which highlights the need for school approaches to address bullying.

What needs to change

We suggest that to effectively combat bullying, schools should move beyond punitive measures and zero-tolerance policies. Instead, they should adopt participatory and community-driven strategies that not only consider the interplay of poverty, violence and gender norms, but also allow learners to contribute to possible solutions to violence.

One way this might be done is through actively involving learners as equal stakeholders in school violence interventions.

The Conversation

Melusi Andile Dlamini receives funding from the National Research Foundation.

Ndumiso Daluxolo Ngidi 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. Boys, bullying and belonging: understanding violent initiation at a South African school – https://theconversation.com/boys-bullying-and-belonging-understanding-violent-initiation-at-a-south-african-school-256008

Africa’s trade deal with the US was left in limbo: what exporters can do about it

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Bedassa Tadesse, Professor of Economics, University of Minnesota Duluth

The US-Africa preferential trade deal – in place for a quarter century – expired on 30 September 2025. It’s far from certain if the trade deal will be renewed and, if so, how. Through the African Growth and Opportunity Act (Agoa), roughly 35 sub-Saharan African countries could export thousands of products to the American market duty-free.

First signed into law in 2000, it was designed to encourage African exports, create jobs, and deepen trade ties. Its usage varied widely: South Africa shipped cars and citrus; Kenya and Ethiopia focused on apparel; Lesotho and Eswatini relied heavily on garments; Mauritius sent textiles and seafood.

Those exports support hundreds of thousands of jobs. A sizeable proportion are held by women and young workers, particularly in areas where formal employment is scarce. For African exporters, a world without Agoa and with broader US tariffs is a double squeeze on competitiveness.

Will Agoa be revived at all or quickly enough? It rests with the US Congress rather than the White House, which has publicly supported a one-year extension. Transitional deals are being floated, but only an enacted law restores certainty. If the deal remains off – or remains uncertain – the sharpest pain falls on smaller, apparel-focused exporters that employ many low-income workers.




Read more:
US-Africa trade deal turns 25 next year: Agoa’s winners, losers and what should come next


I am a scholar of international trade with an interest in the economic development problems of developing countries. My 2023 analysis of scholarly articles and policy reports examined the impact of Agoa on the economic performance of sub-Saharan Africa.

If Congress cannot agree quickly, the lapse continues. Even if a renewal arrives later, some damage, such as cancelled orders and lost shifts, will already have occurred, and any retroactive fix will be uneven across sectors and firms. Uncertainty is costly: ambiguity surrounding Agoa’s renewal dampens orders and investment, particularly in labour-intensive sectors such as apparel and automotive components.

Amid the present economic uncertainties, Agoa exporters should prioritise three key measures. First, take steps to redirect vulnerable orders to the EU preference schemes, and regional buyers under the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). Second, invest in competitiveness through improved ports and predictable customs. Finally, lobby smartly in Washington to argue for a short, retroactive “bridge” renewal.

The high cost of uncertainty for Africa

The duty-free status matters for Africa. Take the case of a basic cotton T-shirt from a country like Kenya or Lesotho that qualifies under Agoa enters the US duty-free. Without Agoa, the standard most-favoured-nation duty is about 16.5% on cotton T-shirts. That swing alone can erase thin margins and redirect orders.

The US imported $791 billion worth of goods from 2001 to 2021 from Agoa eligible countries. The corresponding value of US economic assistance to these countries amounted to $145 billion from 2001 through 2019. The striking difference in magnitude indicates the significance of Agoa in the US-Africa economic relationship.

The trade preferences have particularly benefited apparel, textiles, agriculture and light manufacturing. However, the impact has been uneven. Some countries have used the opportunities more effectively than others, so the consequences of a lapse will likewise be uneven among exporters.

Apparel hubs hit hardest: Lesotho, Eswatini, Madagascar, Kenya and Mauritius built entire export bases around Agoa’s duty-free access for clothing. Without it, typical US most-favoured-nation tariffs (usually 10%-20%) apply immediately, razor-thin margins vanish, and orders get pulled. Factory closures and job losses follow quickly.

South Africa’s cars and fruit: South Africa’s shipments of vehicles, parts, wine, citrus and nuts also face new tariffs. These globally competitive sectors are highly cost-sensitive; the loss of preferences undercuts auto supply-chain investment and farm incomes.

Oil exporters are less exposed: Crude oil generally faces low US tariffs already, so countries like Nigeria and Angola are less affected than non-oil manufacturers and farmers.

Recent returnees are vulnerable: Countries that only recently regained eligibility – after earlier suspensions over concerns about human rights, governance (including coups), or labour rights – are likely to see investors hesitate again amid renewed uncertainty.

What African exporters can do

Given the mix of US statute and presidential practice, there are three realistic paths out of the trade limbo. Congress could pass a multi-year extension in the weeks ahead. That would restore certainty for buyers and factories. Another is a short “bridge” renewal in which lawmakers agree to a one- or two-year extension. This scenario averts a cliff but keeps investment on pause: buyers may place smaller, repeat orders, and postpone new lines until the long-term outlook is resolved. The last is a continued lapse.

While the uncertainty persists, African exporters can look to other measures to shore up business. I propose these three:

Plan for uncertainty: Redirect vulnerable orders to the European Union’s preference routes. Use the Generalised Scheme of Preferences and relevant Economic Partnership Agreements where rules of origin are met. Also pivot to regional buyers under the African Continental Free Trade Area. This can be paired with quick logistics wins such as:

  • pre-clearance: allowing customs processing before goods reach port, cutting dwell times

  • single-window customs: a digital portal where all trade documents are submitted once, reducing delays and paperwork

  • scheduled sailings: fixed, reliable shipping timetables that shorten delivery cycles and improve buyer confidence.

Together, these steps can improve margins through faster lead times. Countries can also bridge working-capital gaps for exposed firms with trade guarantees or invoice discounting, so confirmed orders don’t collapse. They should also maintain a standing public–private task force ready to pivot as US decisions evolve.

Lobby smartly in Washington: Affected countries should coordinate with embassies and lead exporters. They should present hard evidence, including buyer letters, job counts and likely US price pass-through, to argue for a short, retroactive “bridge” renewal. They can also stress that predictable access supports US supply-chain diversification away from China and stabilises consumer prices.

These countries could also align their messages across affected sectors, ranging from apparel to autos and agro-processing. The goal is to show a broad economic impact rather than narrow special pleading. They should also time their outreach to coincide with congressional windows and committee calendars.

Invest in competitiveness: Trade officials should compete on reliability. This is because dependable power, faster ports and predictable customs often matter more to buyers than wages alone. Build regional inputs (yarn-to-garment, packaging, parts) so a shock in one market doesn’t halt production, and scale testing and certification so one run meets US, EU and UK standards.

They should aim to move up the value chain: from free-on-board/full-package (for example, in apparel, not just cut-make-trim but also sourcing fabric and trims and arranging logistics) to components, branded, and ready-to-eat lines, where margins are stickier. Tie investment incentives to verifiable outcomes: jobs, on-time-in-full delivery, and clean production.

For three decades, African governments were urged to liberalise and build export capacity on the promise of predictable rules. A sudden US pullback moves the goalposts—raising prices at home, cutting jobs abroad, and shrinking the space for rules-based trade. Exporters can buy time with EU routes, regional buyers and logistics fixes. But only Congress can restore certainty: pass a short, retroactive bridge renewal now, then set a clear timeline for a multi-year AGOA update.

The Conversation

Bedassa Tadesse does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Africa’s trade deal with the US was left in limbo: what exporters can do about it – https://theconversation.com/africas-trade-deal-with-the-us-was-left-in-limbo-what-exporters-can-do-about-it-268515

What is Françafrique? The taboo word that reveals the shifting influence of France in Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Christophe Premat, Professor, Canadian and Cultural Studies, Stockholm University

The term “Françafrique” describes the political, economic and military networks built to preserve French influence in Africa. It refers to a past era but many believe that it still shapes relations between France and its former colonies today.

The word was popularised by French economist, historian and activist François-Xavier Verschave in his 1998 book Françafrique: The Longest Scandal of the Republic. He used it to condemn a neocolonial system that created dependence and allowed for French interference. Originally, the idea meant a close cooperation between France and Francophone Africa.

As a researcher in political discourse and Franco-African relations, I am interested in how the idea of Françafrique still affects the way both sides see each other today.

How Françafrique got its name

The term Françafrique was first used in 1945 by Jean Piot, editor-in-chief of L’Aurore newspaper. He saw it as a way to unite France and Africa to renew the French Empire. Later, Félix Houphouët-Boigny, the first president of independent Côte d’Ivoire, gave the term a positive meaning. In 1955, he used it to describe a positive partnership. He wanted to celebrate the shared language, culture and economic ties between France and Africa.

Verschave completely redefined the meaning of the term. For him, Françafrique symbolised a shadowy system of corruption, patronage and political interference.

A key architect of this system was Jacques Foccart. He was the African affairs adviser to French presidents between 1958 and 1974 and then adviser to Prime Minister Jacques Chirac between 1986 and 1988. He also served as the secretary-general for the Community and African and Malagasy Affairs, a body designed by General Charles de Gaulle to manage France’s relations with its former colonies.

The pillars of Françafrique

Françafrique is based on three main pillars:

1. Political and military support

Since African independence in the 1960s, France has maintained close ties with leaders considered to be “friends of France”. Through specific defence agreements, Paris retained the right to conduct military interventions to stabilise or protect allied governments. Key examples include Operation Manta in Chad in 1983 and Operation Serval in Mali in 2013. This structure was upheld by a shadow network. It was made up of unofficial advisors, intelligence services and personal connections among the elite. It was best symolised by the so-called “African cell” within the Élysée Palace, which was long led by Foccart.

2. Economic ties

The economic pillar of Françafrique is defined by deep financial ties. The CFA franc currency, created in 1945, is a clear legacy of colonial-era monetary dependence. Major French corporations like Elf, Bolloré, Bouygues and Total gained privileged access to key sectors such as oil, infrastructure and telecommunications in Africa. In return, these companies often funded a hidden system of financial support for African political parties and regimes. This corrupt system was exposed in the 1990s when a judicial investigation revealed that the French state-owned oil giant, Elf-Aquitaine, operated a vast network of corruption that involved both French politicians and African leaders.

3. Personal and informal networks

Beyond official diplomacy, Françafrique thrived on personal and informal networks. It operated through a web of businessmen, diplomats and military figures. These intermediaries formed a powerful “parallel state”. Their networks mixed business deals, intelligence work and personal friendships. This system effectively bypassed standard diplomatic channels. The importance of these personal ties is confirmed in the 2024 memoirs of Robert Bourgi, a key insider. As a disciple of Foccart, he details his extensive relationships with numerous African political leaders.

Is Françafrique really over?

The Francafrique system was weakened by major global and regional shifts. The Soviet Union’s collapse, growing demands for democracy in Africa, and financial scandals in France all challenged its existence.

A key turning point was the 1990 La Baule speech by French president François Mitterrand. He declared that French aid would be tied to democratic reforms. Despite this, French influence persisted, simply changing its form through privatisation, new military partnerships and economic diplomacy.

In the 2000s, successive French presidents – Jacques Chirac, Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande – all vowed to end the Françafrique era. However, continued French military action in Côte d’Ivoire in 2002, Mali in 2013, and the wider Sahel region until 2023 demonstrated a lasting French security role on the continent.

A concept in crisis

Today, the concept of Françafrique is in crisis. Under President Emmanuel Macron, the term itself has become politically taboo. Since his 2017 speech in Ouagadougou, he has insisted on breaking with the old logic of paternalism. He advocates instead for a “partnership of equals”.

Symbolic initiatives aim to modernise the relationship. These include returning looted artworks to Benin, acknowledging France’s role in the Rwandan genocide, and creating a new Africa-France Summit format.

Yet for many Africans, this new rhetoric does not match reality. French military presence in the Sahel, the ongoing use of the CFA franc (even as it is slowly rebranded), and the dominance of large French companies fuel a powerful feeling that French influence remains largely unchanged.

In countries like Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger rejection of France is now expressed through pan-Africanist and sovereignty rhetoric, which has led to regime changes.

The rise of competing powers

A key feature of the current era is the diversification of Africa’s international partners. Countries like China, Turkey, Russia and Gulf states are now major players in both economic and security sectors. The era of France having an exclusive “backyard” in Africa is over. African states now enjoy significantly greater geopolitical leeway.

In this new competitive landscape, France is attempting to redefine its policy. It now emphasises targeted bilateral relations, support for civil society, and academic and cultural cooperation. However, this strategic shift is struggling to overcome decades of deep-seated mistrust.

The powerful and enduring image of Françafrique continues to shape perceptions, especially among a younger generations of Africans who view past relations with scepticism.

An unfinished break

Today, discussing Françafrique means confronting both a historical system and a powerful political idea. While the shadowy networks of the past have faded, the underlying structures of economic influence remain. So too do the powerful postcolonial emotions that shape relations between France and Africa.

Françafrique may no longer be an official policy. Yet it remains a powerful lens. It is the key to understanding how colonial legacies continue to shape the present day.

The Conversation

Christophe Premat is a Professor of Francophone Cultural Studies and Director of the Centre for Canadian Studies at Stockholm University. He is also Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Nordic Journal of Francophone Studies. He recently published Sensibilités intellectuelles africaines with Buata Malela (Hermann Editions, https://www.editions-hermann.fr/livre/sensibilites-intellectuelles-africaines-buata-b-malela).

ref. What is Françafrique? The taboo word that reveals the shifting influence of France in Africa – https://theconversation.com/what-is-francafrique-the-taboo-word-that-reveals-the-shifting-influence-of-france-in-africa-268129

Starvation as a weapon of war: how Ethiopia created a famine in Tigray

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Teklehaymanot G. Weldemichel, Lecturer in Environment and Development, University of Manchester

Famine – the extreme scarcity of food – devastated Ethiopia’s Tigray region during and after a two-year war that began in November 2020. Yet, the famine’s impact is one of the least documented crises of recent years.

Despite the enormous scale of suffering and the far-reaching consequences of the 2020-2022 war, there hasn’t been enough attention paid to all aspects of the disaster, or to aid to enable the region to recover.

The famine dimension of the conflict – how starvation was used as a weapon of war and continues to shape the region today – has largely failed to garner the global and domestic attention it demands.

We have closely followed and extensively written on the Tigray crisis since 2020 as researchers and firsthand witnesses. In a recent article published by the World Peace Foundation – a research institution focused on understanding and preventing conflict, particularly in Africa – we argued that the famine in Tigray was deliberately produced and deliberately obscured. In a recent journal article, too, one of us examined how the Ethiopian government and its allies created a “zone of invisibility” around the Tigray war.

In our view, famine was used as a weapon in a campaign of destruction in Tigray. Our research draws on humanitarian reports, testimonies, satellite imagery and conflict data to reconstruct how deprivation unfolded. We studied who was affected and why global famine detection systems failed to recognise the scale of the crisis.

The lack of reliable data caused by government restrictions, international inaction and structural blind spots in global famine monitoring systems hid the scale of one of the deadliest wars of the 21st century.

Famine in Tigray was not an outcome of war. It was the result of policies – a siege, economic blockade and obstruction of aid – designed to destroy civilian life.

Failure to document the famine has serious implications. It distorts global understanding of what happened in Tigray, limits accountability for war crimes and leaves the international community unprepared to respond to future politically induced famines.

When famine goes unrecorded, the suffering of entire populations is erased from the world’s moral and political map. It also weakens the mechanisms designed to prevent such atrocities elsewhere.

As a result, modern famines driven by political violence – in places like Tigray, Sudan and Gaza – are missed, downplayed or denied until it is too late.

Background: war and siege

The Tigray war broke out in November 2020 between the regional leadership, Tigray People’s Liberation Front, and the central government.

From the earliest days it was marked by large-scale and systematic destruction and looting of social and economic infrastructures. Industries, farms, irrigation systems, food stocks, crop fields, orchards, food storage facilities and businesses across Tigray were looted and destroyed.

Beyond the physical damage, occupying forces actively obstructed farmers from tilling and planting their land. Within six months, this had driven Tigray – home to about six million people at the time – into mass starvation.

In famines caused by natural calamity and economic crisis, poorer communities or those in remote locations are often the worst hit. In Tigray, places along roads were devastated because they were accessible to invading forces.

The destruction and looting of infrastructure was followed by a siege that lasted more than two years. The Ethiopian government and its allies imposed a full-scale blockade on Tigray.

Banks were shut down. The bank accounts of ethnic Tigrayans – both within the region and nationwide – were frozen. The movement of people, goods and humanitarian aid to and from the region, and within Tigray, was brought to a near complete halt.

Communications and access to the media were shut down. The multilayered siege left Tigray almost entirely cut off from the world. Commercial and humanitarian supplies were deliberately obstructed for most of the period.

This resulted in widespread deprivation, suffering and death, much of which has received little documentation or recognition.

The conflict is now described by some studies as a genocide and the deadliest conflict of the 21st century. An estimated 800,000 people were killed through massacres, enforced disappearances and starvation.

Even after the 2022 African Union-brokered ceasefire, hunger and deprivation persist, especially in the western zones and areas bordering Eritrea that remain under occupation. Urban populations whose livelihoods and workplaces were destroyed have yet to rebuild.

The implications

The Tigray famine reveals deep flaws in how global institutions – including the UN and international humanitarian agencies – measure and classify famine.

The siege prevented humanitarian access and data collection. This made famine difficult to measure and easier to deny.

International famine frameworks rely on indicators like market food prices and malnutrition rates among displaced people. They look at crop failure, loss of livestock and disrupted rural livelihoods. Not at urban households, civil servants or small traders – groups who were among the worst affected in Tigray. They don’t capture urban forms of deprivation, such as banking exclusion or a sudden loss of salary or assets.

Agencies’ dependence on official government data led to a system failure. The absence of data was treated as an absence of suffering.

Famine in Tigray was a deliberate effort to weaken and humiliate a population. The implications go beyond Ethiopia. They expose how global systems remain unfit for documenting or responding to politically induced famine.

What must change

To prevent future famines from being erased, there needs to be a transformation of global famine detection and humanitarian response systems.

  • First, the UN and humanitarian agencies must reform famine assessment metrics and systems to account for politically induced starvation. They must include urban and middle-income groups in their analyses. This will help identify and expose deliberate starvation strategies early.

  • Second, human rights bodies should investigate famine as an intentional act of war rather than as an unfortunate by-product. This is a step in the direction of holding perpetrators to account for policies such as sieges, blockades and aid obstruction.

  • Third, donor governments and humanitarian organisations must insist on accountability and transparency in their engagement with states that obstruct humanitarian access to populations in need.

  • Finally, scholars and human rights advocacy organisations should continue documenting how famine functions as a tool of genocide. This would ensure that invisibility does not shield perpetrators from scrutiny. In an age of global connectivity, the absence of data should trigger investigation.

Failing to learn from Tigray will leave the world just as blind to the next famine.

The Conversation

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Starvation as a weapon of war: how Ethiopia created a famine in Tigray – https://theconversation.com/starvation-as-a-weapon-of-war-how-ethiopia-created-a-famine-in-tigray-268395