The Conversation – Africa – Page 7

October 22, 2025

Raila Odinga: the Kenyan statesman who championed competitive politics and accountability

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By John Mukum Mbaku, Professor, Weber State University

Raila Amolo Odinga, who died on 15 October 2025, aged 80, ran five times for the Kenyan presidency but didn’t win. Yet he became a statesman of enormous influence, whose political and humanitarian achievements surpassed those of many African heads of state. He will be remembered as one of the most important figures in the struggle for multiparty democracy.

In this, he was like his father, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga – who was the country’s first post-independence vice-president. Oginga was a patriot, a nationalist, and one of a small number of Kenyans who were instrumental in the struggle against colonialism. In 1960, Oginga turned down an opportunistic offer from British colonialists to become Kenya’s first prime minister. He argued that there could not be a meaningful transition to an independent Kenya while the popular Jomo Kenyatta was still imprisoned.

Odinga first captured national attention stage in 1982 when he was linked to a failed coup plot by a group of air force officers. From then on he was in and out of political detention and exile until 1992. He achieved much over the next three decades, but in my view, four things stand out in his rich political legacy:

1. Strong belief in the power of the people

His political career, which lasted over three decades, was driven by a strong belief in the ability of ordinary citizens to determine their own political and economic destiny.

This belief was evidenced by his lifelong support for and defence of multiparty democracy. To this statesman, competitive politics represented the most effective way for ordinary Kenyans to participate in the governing of their country. It was the means by which poor rural farmers, and families eking out a living on the margins of rich industrial centres like Nairobi, could force their governors to be accountable to them and the constitution.

Throughout his political career, Odinga exhibited trust and confidence in the ability of ordinary Kenyans to think for themselves. He extolled their capacity to choose their own leaders and to ensure that these leaders would not act only in their own self-interest.

It’s my argument that Odinga’s political philosophy was shaped and informed by what he learned from his father’s struggles and his own experiences with Kenya’s authoritarian political and opportunistic economic elites. Kenyans cannot and must not forget his eight years of imprisonment under the authoritarian regime of Daniel arap Moi (1982–1991); nor should they underestimate his support for the 2010 constitution, which transformed Kenya into a modern democracy.

2. Entrenching competitive politics

The early 1990s were a time of turmoil, not just in Kenya. Throughout Africa many grassroots movements were fighting for better governance. These included, among others, the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa and the struggle against Nigeria’s brutal military dictatorship. In Kenya, a political movement – in which Odinga would play no small part – was underway to end decades of a repressive single-party system.

Odinga challenged one-party rule and fought for Kenya’s transition to a competitive political system. He saw this as a system in which politicians regularly renew the mandate granted them through free, credible and competitive elections. Through this process, Kenyans have been able to exercise their right to hold their leaders accountable.

The battle was won when arap Moi agreed to the first multi-party election in 1992. But the broader war for democratic governance, political accountability and respect for human rights had only begun. In this, Odinga would play an even bigger part.

It is no accident that he was vilified by a political elite that saw him as an agitator and threat to their political fortunes. Yet, it was that threatening political personality that contributed to the modernisation of political economy in Kenya and the rise of the country as a beacon of democracy in Africa.

3. A new constitution, less political conflict

The brutality that Odinga suffered under the Moi dictatorship shaped his belief in competitive politics, respect for human rights and passion for accountable governance.

This passion placed him at the centre of Kenya’s quest for a new constitution. The quest began in the mid-2000s but crystallised after the 2007-8 post-election violence.

Among other progressive changes, Kenya’s 2010 constitution introduced an independent judiciary. Courts were empowered to peacefully resolve conflicts, including those arising from contested elections. Odinga’s several petitions to the Supreme Court alleging election malpractices have, in my opinion, helped improve, entrench and deepen democracy in the country.

The petitions also gave the judiciary the opportunity to affirm and enhance its independence. Thanks to the reforms made to the independent electoral commission, the 2022 elections were transparent, peaceful and credible. The results were transmitted in record time. The changes in the electoral system made in response to the court’s ruling enhanced the courts’ role in the peaceful resolution of conflict in a democracy.

4. Spirit of political dialogue

Odinga spent more than three decades fighting to bring democracy, pluralism, social justice and peaceful coexistence to a country torn apart by violent ethnic rivalries for scarce resources. He taught Kenyans that, through dialogue and the help of democratic institutions, they could coexist peacefully. They could create a society in which governance and economic development would be people-centred.

Odinga fully understood the nature of democratic competition and peaceful coexistence. Even as a fierce political competitor, Odinga was always willing to seek compromise with his rivals in order to advance the interests of Kenya and Kenyans. This is seen in his decision to shake Kenyatta’s hand in the aftermath of the 2017 election.

Most recently, he surprised Kenyans by seeking reconciliation with President William Ruto after the competitive 2022 election. Observers believe this illustrates Odinga’s political philosophy: in politics, a door never shuts completely.

In a nutshell

Odinga contributed significantly to Kenya’s transformation into a modern democratic state. He was also one of Africa’s most important transformative leaders. A pan-Africanist who saw continental integration as an achievable goal, Odinga believed strongly in self-reliance and the need for Africans to manage their own affairs.

John Mukum Mbaku 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. Raila Odinga: the Kenyan statesman who championed competitive politics and accountability – https://theconversation.com/raila-odinga-the-kenyan-statesman-who-championed-competitive-politics-and-accountability-267640

October 21, 2025

Madagascar protests: how ousted president Andry Rajoelina’s urban agenda backfired

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Fanny Voélin, PhD candidate in geography, University of Bern

The youth-led protests that eventually brought down Madagascar’s President Andry Rajoelina were sparked, in part, by his attempt to use large-scale urban infrastructure projects as a means of consolidating power.

Rajoelina’s government placed urban mega-projects at the centre of its strategy to assert power and legitimacy. These projects enabled him to create and channel rents to key allies, while anchoring his rule in Malagasy history and territory. They were also meant to transform the spatial and political imaginaries of the state through monumental visions of modernity and development. By spatial and political imaginaries, I mean the contested ways leaders and citizens imagine space and power, and what a modern city and a legitimate government should look like.

Yet these projects did little to meet the needs of most Malagasy citizens. Those that might have done so, such as social housing schemes, were left unfinished or poorly realised.

By the time Rajoelina, who came into power via a coup in 2009, was re-elected for a third term in late 2023, his legitimacy was already deeply contested. Months of daily power and water cuts in the capital city, Antananarivo, combined with the launch of a highly energy-consuming cable car, sparked protests that ultimately led to his overthrow.

After three weeks of intense protests in major cities, Rajoelina fled the country. The army seized power, suspended the constitution, and dissolved key political and judicial institutions. It announced a transitional period.

It is not the first time since independence in 1960 that the military has intervened. Rajoelina was ousted by the same elite unit, the CAPSAT, that helped him seize power in 2009.

For the past four years, I have conducted doctoral research on the politics of urban planning and urban development in Antananarivo. Drawing on this work, this article shows how the very urban strategies through which Rajoelina sought to consolidate power contributed to his downfall. Once it became clear that urban infrastructure projects weren’t going to meet pressing social needs, they quickly generated disillusionment and anger.

Both my research and the regime’s collapse highlight the pitfalls of relying on large-scale infrastructure projects to gain political authority in a highly unstable and competitive political system.

Building power and legitimacy through the capital

Tapping into youth disillusioned with the approach of his predecessor, President Marc Ravalomanana, Rajoelina rose to power in 2009 through a coup.

At only 35, Rajoelina, a former DJ and head of print and media companies, embodied renewal and the hopes of the Malagasy youth. He led a transitional government until 2013. He was then elected into office in 2018. The opposition boycotted the 2023 elections amid growing popular discontent.

From the outset, Rajoelina placed large-scale infrastructure construction at the centre of his political agenda.

In Antananarivo, numerous “presidential projects” were launched. These included a cable car, an urban train, a new city, colosseums, stadiums and social housing. Most of them were painted in the regime’s orange colours. They were strategically located in highly visible areas of the capital and its periphery. In parallel, Rajoelina reworked the national history and territory by renaming key sites in the city.

As I have argued elsewhere, these initiatives played a crucial role in Rajoelina’s attempts to build political authority. Infrastructure development served as an important source of rents he used to secure the loyalty of key allies and further centralise power in the presidency.

The projects were also symbolic, combining elements of tradition and modernity. They were an opportunity for staging state spectacles that aimed at legitimising his increasingly authoritarian rule.

When symbols of power backfire

Yet the spectacle turned against its orchestrator. While some projects had long been contested, the disillusionment reached its peak in 2025. Presidential projects crystallised growing popular anger over the corruption of the regime and the deteriorating living conditions.

In February 2025, in the municipality of Imerintsiatosika, 30km west of the capital city, demonstrations erupted in response to the threat of land seizure and eviction. It is here that the new city of Tanamasoandro was planned to serve as a potential new capital.

In late August 2025, the cable car, finally put into operation for a few hours a day more than a year after its completion, reignited controversy over government spending priorities. The vast majority of the population can’t afford the cable car – 80% of the people live below the poverty line.

The cable car costs an estimated €162,000 (US$188,725) per month in electricity bills. This in a city where power cuts have become a daily occurrence.

Far from serving as a symbol of progress and modernity, the “longest cable car in Africa” came to embody Rajoelina’s disconnection from the needs of the population and the corruption of a regime perceived as serving only its elites.

The battle for urban space

The spark that ignited the current crisis was the violent arrest of opposition municipal councillors on 19 September. The councillors had demanded that the Senate address the water and electricity shortages and their severe impact on the population.

More than 50% of businesses reported electricity outages, with
6.3 outages in a typical month lasting an average of 3.9 hours each, costing firms an average of 24% of annual sales, according to a February 2025 World bank review of the country’s economy. About 20.5% of firms experienced an average of two water shortages a month. Power cuts lasted up to 12 hours a day over the weeks preceding the coup. Students, poor families, and street traders were hit hard as they could not afford generators.

Inspired by Gen Z uprisings around the globe, Malagasy youth took to the streets on 25 September. What began as protests over basic utilities quickly expanded into a broader contestation of Rajoelina’s regime. Artists, trade unions, civil society organisations and politicians joined the movement.

At the spatial heart of the protests were two of Antananarivo’s most politically symbolic squares. The garden of Ambohijatovo, renamed Democracy Square (Kianjan’ny demokrasia) by Rajoelina himself in 2009, had previously hosted 35,000 of his supporters against Ravalomanana. On 1 October, demonstrators managed to gain access to the square after confronting the police, marking an important symbolic victory for the movement.

Ten days later, on 11 October, protesters, now joined by elements of the army, took over 13 May Square (Kianjan’ny 13 mai), the symbolic centre of Malagasy political protests since the 1970s.

Rajoelina attempted to counter the movement. He called his supporters to gather at the Colosseum Antsonjombe, built during the transition (2009-2013). It was presented at the time as the “biggest socio-cultural venue in the Indian Ocean and in Africa”.

However, the colosseum, which was full at its inauguration in 2012, was now empty, illustrating the president’s isolation.

Protesters also targeted key symbols of the presidency. The headquarters of Rajoelina’s printing company was burned down. So were the cable car and the urban train stations. The urban trains had never been put into service.

What Rajoelina had intended as symbols of power and modernity had thus become symbols of failure. They exposed Rajoelina’s vanished legitimacy and the fragile foundations of a power largely built on representation.

The afterlife of urban infrastructures

Rajoelina’s case illustrates that infrastructure construction can be a double-edged strategy. It can be used to assert power in authoritarian contexts, but it risks backfiring when a regime lacks the means to realise its ambitions. Rajoelina’s urban projects initially captured the imagination of the youth and the wider population. But as they failed to meet pressing social needs, they quickly generated disillusionment and anger.

An official from the Antananarivo municipality told me in late 2022 the cable car, unilaterally imposed by the presidency, was a “thorn in the side” of municipal authorities and “risks becoming a white elephant”. The same could be said of all presidential infrastructure projects, inseparable from a regime that had fallen out of favour.

The case of Madagascar raises broader questions about the afterlife of urban infrastructure projects closely associated with fallen leaders. How will they be maintained, repurposed, or abandoned? What consequences will they have for urban and national governance, residents’ lives and hopes, and the imaginaries of power in the years ahead?

Fanny Voélin 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. Madagascar protests: how ousted president Andry Rajoelina’s urban agenda backfired – https://theconversation.com/madagascar-protests-how-ousted-president-andry-rajoelinas-urban-agenda-backfired-267654

October 21, 2025

Madagascar coup: why turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Jonathan Powell, Visiting assistant professor, University of Kentucky

What began in late September as Madagascar’s student demonstrations over crippling electricity outages and water shortages quickly evolved into broader demands for political reform. It became a call to dismantle a system widely seen as corrupt and unaccountable, and for President Andry Rajoelina to resign.

As demonstrations swelled across the country, the embattled president sought to restore order through curfews, the dismissal of his energy minister, and ultimately the dissolution of his government. To no avail.

Eventually, the elite CAPSAT unit – the same corps that had propelled Rajoelina to power during the 2009 coup – overthrew him. Once CAPSAT soldiers joined protesters, seized control of the armed forces and exchanged fire with loyalist troops, Rajoelina fled the country.

From abroad, he attempted to dissolve parliament in a bid to block impeachment proceedings. Mere hours later, CAPSAT announced it had seized power, dissolved most state institutions, and assumed control of the government.

Yet while Rajoelina’s domestic legitimacy faced severe challenges, he continued to enjoy regional recognition, most notably as the current chair of the Southern African Development Community (SADC). This suggests that leaders whose authority is widely contested at home can still receive regional and international validation.

Even as Malagasy citizens mobilised to demand accountability, institutions like the SADC repeatedly conferred legitimacy on a president with dubious democratic credentials. That’s despite their ostensible commitment to democratic governance and constitutional order.

As scholars who have published extensively on coups and political instability in Africa, we contend that this disconnect between regional endorsement and domestic opposition undermines the credibility of such organisations.

In turn, this limits their ability to deter antidemocratic behaviour, including coups, executive overreach, and the erosion of institutional checks and balances.

Elected, but illegitimate?

Questions over Rajoelina’s democratic legitimacy were far from new. In February 2009, then the mayor of Antananarivo, he attempted to declare himself president in the midst of mass demonstrations against the Marc Ravalomanana regime. He didn’t succeed but a subsequent military coup installed him as the interim leader.

That was widely condemned as an unconstitutional takeover. Madagascar was suspended from both the African Union and the SADC. His unwillingness to step down contributed to a stalled transition process that took nearly five years.

Rajoelina prevailed in the 2018 vote. While that election was widely regarded as legitimate, despite some irregularities, the 2023 electoral cycle was not. There were accusations of a pre-determined process, protests, a legal challenge to Rajoelina’s eligibility, limitations on opposition rallies and calls to delay until a more credible process could be organised.

In an especially revealing act, National Assembly president Christine Razanamahasoa – a prominent member of Rajoelina’s own party – made a public request for the SADC to push for a delay in the election and for pressure on Rajoelina to allow a freer process.

Such calls went unheeded. Rajoelina prevailed in a vote boycotted by the opposition and accompanied by historically low turnout.

Competing legitimacies

Though public confidence in the political system had plummeted, and frustration skyrocketed, international bodies that purport to defend democratic norms in the region welcomed Rajoelina.

Rajoelina was actively serving as chair of the SADC at the time of his removal. This was a shift from his previous status as a thorn in the organisation’s side in the 2009-2013 transition period.

The SADC refrained from criticising the flawed 2023 election and, in spite of the electoral issues, selected Rajoelina to serve as its chair.

Rajoelina’s case isn’t an exception. It illustrates a tendency in which leaders with dubious domestic credentials are welcomed internationally by supposedly democracy-promoting organisations. There’s also Zimbabwe’s Emmerson Mnangagwa, who rose to Zimbabwe’s presidency following the 2017 coup against Robert Mugabe.

Unlike Rajoelina, the SADC did not require Mnangagwa to take a sabbatical and he has retained power via flawed processes. Neither consistent allegations of electoral malpractice, nor rampant repression, deterred the regional body from selecting Mnangagwa as chair. Nor have such issues deterred the Common Market for Eastern and Southern Africa, which has selected Mnangagwa as its next chair.

Rajoelina’s ouster is the first time an SADC chair has been forced from power. If the organisation continues to endorse leaders who hold power through illegitimate means, it will not be the last.

The cost of legitimising illegitimacy

Accepting leaders with questionable democratic credentials deepens the damage on multiple fronts. Most directly, regional organisations can act as clubs of incumbents, with long-term negative consequences.

The 2023 Africa Governance Report on unconstitutional changes of government warned – in bold lettering – “instability may result if elections are not considered credible”.

Inconsistency on this front sends a clear signal to entrenched incumbents and would-be authoritarians: external validation may serve as a substitute for genuine domestic legitimacy. If leaders expect regional recognition despite their violations of constitutional order at home, they may feel they can ignore democratic norms, suppress dissent, or manipulate institutions.

But as Rajoelina’s fall from power shows, acceptance by regional and international bodies offers little protection when internal pressures finally erupt.

Beyond undermining domestic politics, such acts also undermine the credibility of regional organisations. When these same bodies later attempt to mediate political disputes or condemn unconstitutional actions, domestic audiences will be far less likely to see them as impartial or legitimate.

Recent developments in west Africa show how deeply this disillusionment can take root. Mass publics in Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger have rallied behind coup leaders while denouncing the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas).

Seen in this light, the SADC’s condemnation of the coup against Rajoelina and its decision to send a fact-finding mission will likely ring hollow to many Malagasy.

The organisation’s refusal to speak up during the 2023 electoral crisis, despite a direct appeal from the National Assembly president, exposed its reluctance to challenge incumbents. Its sudden defence of constitutional order now seems reactive rather than principled.

Until such bodies apply their standards consistently, their efforts will do little to deter future power grabs – or to restore public confidence in the regional project of democratic governance.

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. Madagascar coup: why turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies – https://theconversation.com/madagascar-coup-why-turning-a-blind-eye-to-an-unpopular-president-weakens-regional-bodies-267897

October 21, 2025

Turkey’s charm offensive in Senegal: migration scholar unpacks the relationship

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Papa Sow, Senior Researcher, The Nordic Africa Institute

Turkey has been trying to establish a stronghold in Africa, using the “Opening up to Africa” policy it adopted in 1998.

Its Africa Action Plan, based on humanitarian aid, politics and economic cooperation, has turned toward west Africa.

As a scholar of migration studies, I’ve analysed the forms of agencies, social networks and transnational e-commerce between Dakar and Istanbul. I also look at the people involved, including migrants, networks of traders and “gratis passengers” – people who use their baggage allowance to transport small packages between Istanbul and Dakar.

My study highlights active transnational trade and a circular, yet strategic, migration that is less visible. The interviews focused primarily on the back-and-forth of traders between Dakar and Istanbul, the gratis passengers (mainly Senegalese), and other Senegalese businessmen. Using the power of social media such as WhatsApp, TikTok, and Facebook, some of them regularly trade with Turkey while residing in Senegal. Others go back and forth between the two countries.

I conclude that the ease of people’s movement between Senegal and Turkey has enabled growth in the circulation of goods between Turkey and Senegal.

A number of factors have been responsible for this success. They include ease of getting Turkish visas and airline travel (and the discounts Turkish Airlines offers to the so-called gratis passengers). There are also historically rooted Muslim networks (Muridiyya and Tijaniya Sufi Muslims) in both countries.

In 2021, the volume of commercial, industrial and investment exchanges between the two countries reached more than US$540 million, compared with more than US$91 million in 2008. During the last visit of Senegalese prime minister Ousmane Sonko to Turkey in August 2025, both countries said they wanted to increase the bilateral trade to more than US$1 billion.

Historical ties

Cooperation and diplomatic relations between Senegal and Turkey go back to the early 1900s when an honorary consulate was opened in Dakar to preserve the contacts established with Istanbul. These early contacts are the beginnings of a Turkish diplomacy aimed at exploring the economic prospects of west Africa.

The first Turkish ambassador was posted to Senegal in 1963. The first Senegalese embassy opened in Turkey in 2006.

Senegal’s exports to Turkey include cotton, fishery resources, cereals, fruits and skins. It imports steel, furniture and spare parts.

This cooperation also extends to defence, security and culture. In 2020, the construction of a Turkish cultural centre was planned for Senegal in the coming years.

In 2017, Turkey regularised more than 1,400 Senegalese living in the country. The numbers of Senegalese in Turkey varies according to different sources. We estimate that several thousand Senegalese live in or have passed through Turkish territory since the mid-2000s.

Many Senegalese traders and social network entrepreneurs, especially women, have seized the opportunity in the last 15 years to take business trips to Istanbul and to promote trade exchanges without even leaving Senegal. This has changed the landscape of Senegalese migration to Europe and also allowed certain types of traders to specialise in Turkish imports.

These imports, and specifically the Turkish products, are commonly known as bagassu Turkii in Senegal. They include cosmetics, household accessories, clothing and technology.

Round-trip dynamics between Dakar and Istanbul

The traders interviewed said they had chosen İstanbul as a wholesale supply centre because of the high cost of travel to China and visa problems with China. In Istanbul, most of the Senegalese work as freight “shippers” or gratis passengers and, by extension, carriers of tax-free parcels to Senegal and other west African countries.

We differentiate them from the “kargo” migrants, who transport large quantities of goods and products from Turkey by sea freight to reach Senegal.

Gratis passengers, carrying smaller quantities, travel by plane. But they also often send the rest of their goods by boat or overland through kargo migrants.

The round-trip dynamics they have developed between Dakar and Istanbul rely on the fact that they benefit from preferential rates for plane tickets. They have set up a paid parcel transport system based on their baggage allowance.

Unlike normal passengers who cannot exceed the authorised 46kg, gratis passengers can carry up to 100kg per trip. This is often with 50% reductions on their fares because of travel offers and loyalty cards with companies such as Turkish Airlines and Air Algérie. Due to the often excessive luggage, it is still not possible for them to benefit from a normal import agreement, hence the use of preferential tariffs.

Gratis passengers also have the option of carrying additional baggage to be charged as cargo. They regularly take two or three return flights per month.

Steps forward

This work opens four avenues for further analysis.

Firstly, studies on the volume of goods shipped from Senegal to Turkey, and vice versa, who transports them, and how much they earn. Both states would then be better able to support them in various ways (data collection, access to appropriate services, platforms for exchange, skills and experience) in the creation of new jobs.

Secondly, the e-commerce sector deserves greater consideration. It has not only contributed to lowering the cost of goods in local markets for consumers but has also made bagassu Turkii more widely available in Senegal.

Thirdly, local artisans accuse the bagassu Turkii of undermining local textile production and creative skills. Several Senegalese artisans – shoemakers, jewelers, tailors – told us, for example, that Turkish products – shoes, leather bags and clothes, above all – are serious competition for certain local products. The more elaborate and refined bagassu Turkii sell easily in the Senegalese market because of their affordable prices, unlike local products that are handmade and often require many hours of work.

Fourthly, short-term circular migration can boost the economies of low-income countries and gradually allay the concerns that currently dominate the political debate over international migration.

Papa Sow 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. Turkey’s charm offensive in Senegal: migration scholar unpacks the relationship – https://theconversation.com/turkeys-charm-offensive-in-senegal-migration-scholar-unpacks-the-relationship-264420

October 21, 2025

Madagascar coup: how turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Jonathan Powell, Visiting assistant professor, University of Kentucky

In turn, this limits their ability to deter antidemocratic behaviour, including coups, executive overreach, and the erosion of institutional checks and balances.

Elected, but illegitimate?

Such calls went unheeded. Rajoelina prevailed in a vote boycotted by the opposition and accompanied by historically low turnout.

Competing legitimacies

Though public confidence in the political system had plummeted, and frustration skyrocketed, international bodies that purport to defend democratic norms in the region welcomed Rajoelina.

Rajoelina was actively serving as chair of the SADC at the time of his removal. This was a shift from his previous status as a thorn in the organisation’s side in the 2009-2013 transition period.

The SADC refrained from criticising the flawed 2023 election and, in spite of the electoral issues, selected Rajoelina to serve as its chair.

Rajoelina’s ouster is the first time an SADC chair has been forced from power. If the organisation continues to endorse leaders who hold power through illegitimate means, it will not be the last.

The cost of legitimising illegitimacy

The 2023 Africa Governance Report on unconstitutional changes of government warned – in bold lettering – “instability may result if elections are not considered credible”.

But as Rajoelina’s fall from power shows, acceptance by regional and international bodies offers little protection when internal pressures finally erupt.

Seen in this light, the SADC’s condemnation of the coup against Rajoelina and its decision to send a fact-finding mission will likely ring hollow to many Malagasy.

Until such bodies apply their standards consistently, their efforts will do little to deter future power grabs – or to restore public confidence in the regional project of democratic governance.

– ref. Madagascar coup: how turning a blind eye to an unpopular president weakens regional bodies – https://theconversation.com/madagascar-coup-how-turning-a-blind-eye-to-an-unpopular-president-weakens-regional-bodies-267897

October 20, 2025

The great wildebeest migration, seen from space: satellites and AI are helping count Africa’s wildlife

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Isla C. Duporge, British–French zoologist and Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Princeton University

The Great Wildebeest Migration is one of the most remarkable natural spectacles on Earth. Each year, immense herds of wildebeest, joined by zebras and gazelles, travel 800-1,000km between Tanzania and Kenya in search of fresh grazing after the rains.

This vast, circular journey is the engine of the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem. The migration feeds predators such as lions and crocodiles, fertilises the land and sustains the grasslands. Countless other species, and human livelihoods tied to rangelands and tourism, depend on it.

Because this migration underpins the entire ecosystem, it’s vital to know how many animals are involved. A change in numbers would not only affect wildebeest, but would ripple outward to predators, vegetation and the millions of people who rely on this landscape.

For decades, aerial surveys have been the main tool for estimating the size of east Africa’s wildebeest population. Aircraft fly in straight lines (transects) a few kilometres apart and use these strips to estimate the total population. This dedicated and arduous work, using a long-established method, has given us an estimate of about 1.3 million wildebeest.

In recent years, conservation scientists have begun testing whether satellites and artificial intelligence (identifying patterns in large datasets) can offer a new way to monitor wildlife. Earlier work showed that other species – Weddell seals, beluga whales and elephants – could be identified in satellite imagery using artificial intelligence.

In 2023, we showed that migratory wildebeest could be detected from satellite images using deep learning. That study proved it’s possible to monitor large gatherings of mammals from space. The next step has been to move from simply detecting animals to estimating their populations – using satellites not just to spot them, but to count them at scale.

Our recent study was carried out through collaboration between biologists, remote sensing specialists and machine-learning scientists. We analysed satellite imagery of the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem from 2022 and 2023, covering more than 4,000km².

Using deep learning models

The images were collected at very high spatial resolution (33-60cm per pixel), with each wildebeest represented by fewer than nine pixels. We analysed the imagery using two complementary deep learning models: a pixel-based U-Net and an object-based YOLO model. Both were trained to recognise wildebeest from above. Applying them together allowed us to cross-validate detections and reduce potential bias. The images were taken at the beginning and end of August, corresponding to different stages of the dry-season migration. Smaller herds were observed earlier in the month, as expected.

Across both years, the models detected fewer than 600,000 wildebeest within the dry-season range. While these numbers are lower than some previous aerial estimates, this should not necessarily be interpreted as evidence of a population decline, and we encourage more surveying effort to work out the relative error biases in each approach. While some animals are inevitably missed, under trees or outside the imaged area, it is unlikely that such factors could account for hundreds of thousands more. To confirm that the main herds were covered, we validated the survey extent using GPS tracking data from collared wildebeest and ground-based observations from organisations monitoring herd movements in the region.

These results provide the first satellite-based dry-season census of the Serengeti-Mara migration. Rather than replacing aerial surveys, they offer a complementary perspective on seasonal population dynamics. The next step is to coordinate aerial and satellite surveys in parallel. This way each method can help refine the other and build a more complete picture of this extraordinary migration.

Future directions

Satellite monitoring is not a panacea. Images are expensive, sometimes obscured by cloud cover. And they can never capture every individual on the ground (neither can aerial surveys). But the advantages are compelling. Satellites can capture a snapshot of vast landscapes at a single moment in time, removing much of the uncertainty that comes from extrapolating localised counts.

The approach is scalable to many other species and ecosystems. And as more high-resolution satellites (capable of imaging at less than 50cm) are launched, we can now revisit the same spot on Earth multiple times a day, bringing wildlife monitoring closer to real time than ever before.

Beyond population counts, satellites also open up a new scientific frontier: the study of collective movement at scale. The wildebeest migration is a classic case of emergent behaviour: there is no leader, yet order still arises. Each animal follows simple cues like where the grass is greener or where a neighbour is moving, and together thousands create a vast, coordinated journey.

With high-resolution satellite data, scientists can now explore the basic physics that shape how animals move together in large groups. But how do density waves of movement propagate across the landscape, what scaling rules might be governing patterns of spacing and alignment, and how do these collective patterns influence the functioning of ecosystems?

Our findings demonstrate how satellites and AI can be harnessed not only for wildlife population monitoring but also for applications that extend beyond population counts to uncovering the mechanisms of collective organisation in animal groups.

Isla C. Duporge received funding support from the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) while leading this research. The imagery used in the project was acquired via her fellowship with NAS.

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

– ref. The great wildebeest migration, seen from space: satellites and AI are helping count Africa’s wildlife – https://theconversation.com/the-great-wildebeest-migration-seen-from-space-satellites-and-ai-are-helping-count-africas-wildlife-266308

October 19, 2025

Should Boko Haram fighters be given a second chance in society? We asked 2,000 young Nigerians

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Amélie Godefroidt, Assistant Professor in Conflict Management, IÉSEG School of Management; KU Leuven

Across the world, the question of how to deal with former fighters remains urgent. From Nigeria and Iraq to Syria and the Sahel, governments are wrestling with how to bring people who once fought for violent groups back into society. Reintegrating ex-fighters – after appropriate punishment – is unavoidable. This is because alternatives such as indefinite detention, capital punishment or abandonment are unsustainable and risk fuelling future cycles of violence.

Yet local communities often seem to resist welcoming ex-combatants back.

How, then, can societies balance the need for reintegration with local resistance?

As scholars of public opinion during and after episodes of political violence, we set out to better understand these tensions. We have years of fieldwork experience in Nigeria and other conflict-affected settings and, together with our local team, we conducted a study to assess citizens’ views on reintegration. How risky would it be to take a certain person back? And does this person deserve a second chance?

Our research was conduced in Nigeria, where Boko Haram’s insurgency has devastated communities for more than two decades. As the group has weakened and thousands of fighters have surrendered, the government has launched programmes to reintegrate them into civilian life. These initiatives have achieved limited success so far, as many citizens remain wary and resistant to their return.

We surveyed around 2,000 young Nigerians and asked them to evaluate different hypothetical profiles of former Boko Haram fighters. This allowed us to see how different characteristics shaped public preferences.

We found that respondents were more forgiving towards former fighters who were forced to join the insurgency and expressed remorse afterwards. They were less willing to reintegrate more militant and less repentant offenders.

Our findings speak to several high-level policy debates today. Nigeria continues to run reintegration programmes. While some returnees have successfully rejoined their communities, others have faced suspicion, threats, and even renewed displacement.

What we found

Three patterns stood out:

Why they joined matters.
People were far more open to reintegrating fighters who were forcibly recruited or joined as children than those who joined voluntarily – especially for ideological reasons. As one respondent put it:

Young fighters had little guidance or knowledge of what trouble they were going into.

What they do after leaving matters even more.
Former fighters who left voluntarily and took part in reconciliation efforts, especially cooperating with the police or army in their fight against Boko Haram, enjoyed much stronger public support. One respondent even went a step further, suggesting that

instead of a prison sentence, former militias should serve a period of compulsory community service rebuilding the states they have destroyed.

Some atrocities were harder to forgive.
As one participant put it:

The only precondition is that they have never taken a life. No killer deserves to be free, let alone get amnesty.

Still, our experimental results show this mattered less than one might expect: while people were reluctant to accept those who committed severe violence, the circumstances of joining and leaving weighed more heavily.

These same patterns also influenced whether people believed reintegration would succeed, and what punishments they thought appropriate. Fighters who were forced to join and left voluntarily were expected to reintegrate successfully and were more likely to be granted amnesty. Fighters seen as willing culprits who refused reconciliation were more often judged to deserve the death penalty.

Importantly, these patterns held broadly across different groups – whether respondents were Christian or Muslim, from the north or south, victims or non-victims of Boko Haram violence.

In short: willingness to forgive depended less on the violence of the past than on whether ex-fighters signalled remorse and a genuine commitment to peace today.

Why this matters

Our research suggests that reintegration and reconciliation is more likely to succeed when:

(1) Clear conditions are set. Linking reintegration to reconciliatory behaviour can reassure communities.

(2) Citizens are informed. Communication campaigns that explain how some fighters were coerced, or highlight the risks taken by those who defected, can reduce public resistance.

(3) Reconciliation is made visible. Publicising ex-fighters’ efforts to cooperate with authorities or support victims helps rebuild trust.

The lesson is simple but often overlooked: preparing societies for the return of ex-fighters is as important as preparing the fighters themselves. Without community buy-in, reintegration risks deepening divides instead of healing them.

Amélie Godefroidt received funding from the Research Foundation Flanders–FWO for this study.

– ref. Should Boko Haram fighters be given a second chance in society? We asked 2,000 young Nigerians – https://theconversation.com/should-boko-haram-fighters-be-given-a-second-chance-in-society-we-asked-2-000-young-nigerians-266289

October 16, 2025

Raila Odinga: the man who changed Kenya without ever ruling it

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Justin Willis, Professor of History, Durham University

Raila Amollo Odinga, who has died at the age of 80, was something of a paradox in post-independence Kenyan politics.

A leader who repeatedly ran for president, he never won – in part due to the 2007 election being manipulated in favour of Mwai Kibaki. Despite this, Odinga will be remembered as a figure who profoundly shaped the country’s politics as much as any president.

The son of a famous anti-colonial leader, he was born into influence. Yet he became bitterly critical of Kenya’s enduring political and economic inequalities, speaking out on behalf of the county’s “have nots”, which earned him a place in the hearts of millions.

He was a fiercely nationalist politician who mobilised support across ethnic lines. But he was also the dominant leader of the Luo community – one of the country’s larger ethnic groups mainly based in Western Kenya – whose voters formed the core of his support.

Having self-identified as a revolutionary, Odinga later proved to be committed to institutional reform and democratisation. His greatest legacy is the 2010 constitution, which attempted to devolve power away from the “imperial presidency”, which he campaigned for over many years.

This was not the end of the contradictions. A leader who often spoke about economic development and deprivation, his agenda was typically more focused on political change. Odinga did so in part because he believed that rights and freedoms would anchor nation-building and development.

Perhaps most strikingly, although he scorned the elite power sharing deals that dominated Kenyan politics – he repeatedly made such agreements himself, often invoking the need for national stability.

Odinga embodied Kenya’s political contradictions, so the impact of his life and death will be debated. This article explores this contested legacy and what it means for Kenya’s future.

Early years

Born in western Kenya on 7 January 1945, Odinga – popularly known as Baba (father) – was the son of Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, the redoubtable community mobiliser who was a thorn in the side of the colonial state. Oginga famously insisted that he and other nationalists would make no deals with the British until Jomo Kenyatta was released.

When Kenyatta became prime minister in 1963, and later president in 1964, Oginga became Kenya’s first vice-president and minister of home affairs. However, he fell out with Kenyatta in 1966 over the government’s failure to overturn colonial inequalities. This meant that the Oginga family was excluded from the country’s powerful political elite. Oginga spent the following decades in and out of detention.

Raila Odinga spent his early years in Kenya before leaving in 1962 to study in East Germany. Returning in 1970, he became a university lecturer. Later, he joined the government standards agency – a job he lost abruptly in 1982 when he was linked to a failed coup against Daniel arap Moi. Charged with treason, he was detained until 1988, when he became active in the growing opposition to Moi’s rule. He was detained twice more during the turbulent years of protest that followed and fled briefly to Sweden.

Odinga returned before Kenya’s 1992 elections, the first multi-party polls since the 1960s, siding with his father when the opposition split. Aided by that division and state manipulation, Moi won, but Odinga’s role confirmed his status as a major political figure.

Blazing his own trail

When Oginga died in 1994, Odinga sought to take over his father’s party but, defeated, left to form his own. He ran for president in 1997, which Moi again won against a divided opposition.

When Moi did not seek re-election in 2002, it seemed Odinga’s moment had come. However, after briefly supporting Odinga as his successor Moi ultimately decided to back Uhuru Kenyatta, son of Jomo. In response, Odinga threw his weight behind Mwai Kibaki, a move which was critical to Kibaki’s victory in 2002.

Odinga’s support for Kibaki was conditional on major constitutional and political reforms. Yet where Odinga had expected widespread constitutional reforms to devolve power away from the executive, Kibaki offered limited changes. Refusing to simply prop up the administration, Odinga successfully campaigned against the government’s flawed draft constitution in the 2005 referendum.

Once again, Odinga seemed on the brink of power: he led a broad coalition into the 2007 elections on a promise of fundamental change. Early results put him ahead of Kibaki in the elections – but then Kibaki was declared the winner in a hasty process that raised widespread suspicions of malpractice and triggered Kenya’s greatest crisis, including ethnic clashes and state repression.

A power-sharing deal brought the violence to an end and made Odinga prime minister in a government of national unity. He focused his energy on political reform and constitutional changes, as well as other long standing concerns. In August 2010 a referendum approved a new constitution that devolved power to Kenya’s 47 counties. The constitution also reformed key institutions including the judiciary and electoral commission and expanded citizens’ rights.

A contested final act

The 2010 constitution remains Odinga’s signal achievement. Certainly, it created the potential for the country to forge a new and more democratic future.

Yet in its aftermath he struggled to find an equally compelling narrative. Constitutional reform had been a long-standing demand that allowed him to mobilise opposition around the promise of a new Kenya. Without this single over-arching “cause”, Odinga’s ability to sustain mass mobilisation became more fragile.

Furthermore, the progressive constitution did not prevent the continuation of older political logics. It proved no barrier against the rise to the presidency of Uhuru Kenyatta and his then deputy, William Ruto, who had faced charges of crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court.

Odinga faced increasingly difficult choices, particularly after repeated presidential defeats in 2013, 2017 and 2022 amid allegations of electoral manipulation.

These losses convinced some that he would never win the presidency – and not only because of the use of state power to deny him. That recognition, coupled with advancing age and ill health, led Odinga to make compromises once unthinkable, revealing an increasingly pragmatic reasoning in his later years. This was starkly illustrated after the 2017 elections, when – having claimed he was rigged out and led mass protests – Odinga struck the “handshake” deal with Kenyatta in March 2018. This was framed as nation-building but viewed by some as a betrayal.

The handshake led Odinga to stand as Kenyatta’s preferred candidate in the 2022 elections. This backing proved doubly damaging, however. On the one hand, it undermined Odinga’s opposition credentials and lowered turnout in his Nyanza strongholds. On the other, it meant that his loss could not be blamed on a “deep state” conspiring against him.

The difficulties that followed were magnified when, after suggesting the 2022 results had been manipulated by those around Ruto, Odinga agreed to prop up Ruto’s struggling government in March 2025. The formation of what was billed as a “broad-based” administration was presented as nation-building, but critics saw it differently. Coming after mass youth-led protests – first against tax increases and later against corruption, state repression, and Ruto’s leadership – Odinga appeared to some to side with power against the people he once represented.

Not flawless, but consequential

These turns complicate how history, and Kenyans, will remember him – not as a flawless icon, but as a deeply consequential and sometimes contradictory figure. Yet those with longer memories will also understand what led Odinga there.

Imprisoned and tortured under Moi, sold out by Kibaki, and denied victory in 2007, Odinga endured more than a lifetime’s share of misfortune and betrayal. He made his own choices, but rarely under conditions of his own making, and arguably did more than any other Kenyan to make the country’s political system more responsive to its people.

His absence will generate a political vacuum that other leaders will struggle to fill. Ruto was banking on Odinga’s support to win the 2027 elections. He will now have to work harder to put together a winning coalition. Meanwhile those leaders who coalesced around Odinga – including those who depended on him for their positions – will need to decide how they can most effectively mobilise in his absence.

As they do so, Kenya’s leaders will all be operating in his shadow, and in a context in which the country’s marginalised people and communities will feel even less represented by those in power.

Justin Willis has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics

Gabrielle Lynch has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics.

Karuti Kanyinga has previously received funding from East Africa Research Fund on Kenyan politics and elections.

Nic Cheeseman has previously received funding from the ESRC and the UK government for research on Kenyan politics.

– ref. Raila Odinga: the man who changed Kenya without ever ruling it – https://theconversation.com/raila-odinga-the-man-who-changed-kenya-without-ever-ruling-it-267643

October 16, 2025

African languages for AI: the project that’s gathering a huge new dataset

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Vukosi Marivate, Chair of Data Science, Professor of Computer Science, Director AfriDSAI, University of Pretoria

The African Next Voices project has started out with sites in Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa. Iuliia Anisimova/iStock

Artificial intelligence (AI) tools like ChatGPT, DeepSeek, Siri or Google Assistant are developed by the global north and trained in English, Chinese or European languages. In comparison, African languages are largely missing from the internet.

A team of African computer scientists, linguists, language specialists and others have been working on precisely this problem for two years already. The African Next Voices project, primarily funded by the Gates Foundation (with other funding from Meta) and involving a network of African universities and organisations, recently released what’s thought to be the largest dataset of African languages for AI so far. We asked them about their project, with sites in Kenya, Nigeria and South Africa.

Why is language so important to AI?

Language is how we interact, ask for help, and hold meaning in community. We use it to organise complex thoughts and share ideas. It’s the medium we use to tell an AI what we want – and to judge whether it understood us.

We are seeing an upsurge of applications that rely on AI, from education to health to agriculture. These models are trained from large volumes of (mostly) linguistic (language) data. These are called large language models or LLMs but are found in only a few of the world’s languages.

Languages also carry culture, values and local wisdom. If AI doesn’t speak our languages, it can’t reliably understand our intent, and we can’t trust or verify its answers. In short: without language, AI can’t communicate with us – and we can’t communicate with it. Building AI in our languages is therefore the only way for AI to work for people.

If we limit whose language gets modelled, we risk missing out on the majority of human cultures, history and knowledge.

Why are African languages missing and what are the consequences for AI?

The development of language is intertwined with the histories of people. Many of those who experienced colonialism and empire have seen their own languages being marginalised and not developed to the same extent as colonial languages. African languages are not as often recorded, including on the internet.

So there isn’t enough high-quality, digitised text and speech to train and evaluate robust AI models. That scarcity is the result of decades of policy choices that privilege colonial languages in schools, media and government.

Language data is just one of the things that’s missing. Do we have dictionaries, terminologies, glossaries? Basic tools are few and many other issues raise the cost of building datasets. These include African language keyboards, fonts, spell-checkers, tokenisers (which break text into smaller pieces so a language model can understand it), orthographic variation (differences in how words are spelled across regions), tone marking and rich dialect diversity.

The result is AI that performs poorly and sometimes unsafely: mistranslations, poor transcription, and systems that barely understand African languages.

In practice this denies many Africans access – in their own languages – to global news, educational materials, healthcare information, and the productivity gains AI can deliver.

When a language isn’t in the data, its speakers aren’t in the product, and AI cannot be safe, useful or fair for them. They end up missing the necessary language technology tools that could support service delivery. This marginalises millions of people and increases the technology divide.

What is your project doing about it – and how?

Our main objective is to collect speech data for automatic speech recognition (ASR). ASR is an important tool for languages that are largely spoken. This technology converts spoken language into written text.

The bigger ambition of our project is to explore how data for ASR is collected and how much of it is needed to create ASR tools. We aim to share our experiences across different geographic regions.

The data we collect is diverse by design: spontaneous and read speech; in various domains – everyday conversations, healthcare, financial inclusion and agriculture. We are collecting data from people of diverse ages, gender and educational backgrounds.

Every recording is collected with informed consent, fair compensation and clear data-rights terms. We transcribe with language-specific guidelines and a large range of other technical checks.

In Kenya, through Maseno Centre for Applied AI, we are collecting voice data for five languages. We’re capturing the three main language groups Nilotic (Dholuo, Maasai and Kalenjin) as well as Cushitic (Somali) and Bantu (Kikuyu).

Through Data Science Nigeria, we are collecting speech in five widely spoken languages – Bambara, Hausa, Igbo, Nigerian Pidgin and Yoruba. The dataset aims to accurately reflect authentic language use within these communities.

In South Africa, working through the Data Science for Social Impact lab and its collaborators, we have been recording seven South African languages. The aim is to reflect the country’s rich linguistic diversity: isiZulu, isiXhosa, Sesotho, Sepedi, Setswana, isiNdebele and Tshivenda.

Importantly, this work does not happen in isolation. We are building on the momentum and ideas from the Masakhane Research Foundation network, Lelapa AI, Mozilla Common Voice, EqualyzAI, and many other organisations and individuals who have been pioneering African language models, data and tooling.

Each project strengthens the others, and together they form a growing ecosystem committed to making African languages visible and usable in the age of AI.

How can this be put to use?

The data and models will be useful for captioning local-language media; voice assistants for agriculture and health; call-centre and support in the languages. The data will also be archived for cultural preservation.

Larger, balanced, publicly available African language datasets will allow us to connect text and speech resources. Models will not just be experimental, but useful in chatbots, education tools and local service delivery. The opportunity is there to go beyond datasets into ecosystems of tools (spell-checkers, dictionaries, translation systems, summarisation engines) that make African languages a living presence in digital spaces.

In short, we are pairing ethically collected, high-quality speech at scale with models. The aim is for people to be able to speak naturally, be understood accurately, and access AI in the languages they live their lives in.

What happens next for the project?

This project only collected voice data for certain languages. What of the remaining languages? What of other tools like machine translation or grammar checkers?

We will continue to work on multiple languages, ensuring that we build data and models that reflect how Africans use their languages. We prioritise building smaller language models that are both energy efficient and accurate for the African context.

The challenge now is integration: making these pieces work together so that African languages are not just represented in isolated demos, but in real-world platforms.

One of the lessons from this project, and others like it, is that collecting data is only step one. What matters is making sure that the data is benchmarked, reusable, and linked to communities of practice. For us, the “next” is to ensure that the ASR benchmarks we build can connect with other ongoing African efforts.

We also need to ensure sustainability: that students, researchers, and innovators have continued access to compute (computer resources and processing power), training materials and licensing frameworks (Like NOODL or Esethu). The long-term vision is to enable choice: so that a farmer, a teacher, or a local business can use AI in isiZulu, Hausa, or Kikuyu, not just in English or French.

If we succeed, built-in AI in African languages won’t just be catching up. It will be setting new standards for inclusive, responsible AI worldwide.

Vukosi Marivate is a Co-Founder of Lelapa AI. DSFSI is funded by the Gates Foundation, Meta, Google.org, ABSA (for the ABSA UP Chair of Data Science). Vukosi is a co-founder of the Deep Learning Indaba and Masakhane Research Foundation. Vukosi is a board member of the Partnership on AI and the Council for Higher Education in South Africa.

Ife Adebara is a Co-Founder and Chief Technology Officer of EqualyzAI. She receives funding from Gates Foundation, Lacuna and the University of British Columbia and she is affiliated with Data Science Nigeria.

Lilian Wanzare receives funding from Gates Foundation. she is affiliated with Maseno University and Utavu AI Foundation. .

– ref. African languages for AI: the project that’s gathering a huge new dataset – https://theconversation.com/african-languages-for-ai-the-project-thats-gathering-a-huge-new-dataset-266371

October 16, 2025

High food prices in east and southern Africa: four steps to boost production and make markets work better

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Grace Nsomba, Researcher at Centre for Competition, Regulation and Economic Development, University of Johannesburg

Countries in east and southern Africa have continued to experience high and volatile food prices despite good harvests in 2025. This is especially alarming as climate-related weather shocks will be deeper and more frequent.

Yet the region does not lack the potential to expand agriculture. Parts of the region have abundant arable land and water resources.

The G20 Food Security Task Force convened by South Africa as part of its G20 presidency has recognised the wide and persistent extent of hunger and malnutrition in most sub-regions of Africa. The task force highlighted excessive price volatility and food inflation despite sufficient global food production.

It affirmed:

the commitment to facilitate open, fair, predictable, and rules-based agriculture, food and fertiliser trade and reduce market distortions.

Evidence from the African Market Observatory, however, points to action – not words – being required. The prices for food products such as maize meal, rice and vegetable oil are very high across the region. So are those of inputs such as fertilizer.

The African Market Observatory provides market information, including prices, for key food products at the wholesale and producer levels in east and southern Africa. This data is essential in evaluating whether prices are fair and markets are working well for smaller producers and other market participants.

Countries in east and southern Africa have a combined population of over 600 million. As a whole the region is a substantial net importer of staples such as wheat, rice and vegetable oil. This despite the potential for the region to expand production.

But to expand production, countries would need to develop sustainable agro-industrial strategies. Such strategies include initiatives to improve yields, value-adding and the creation of fair regional markets. Improved water management and farming methods are essential along with investing in storage, logistics and processing.

Countries would also need to address the issue of agricultural commodity markets in the region. The variance in commodity prices across the region are evidence that markets are working very badly.

Prices vary across countries

Maize prices vary tremendously across the region, with extremely high prices in Kenya and Malawi. This should not be the case. When production from other parts of the region is taken into account, the region has more than enough maize to meet demand. There have been good rains this year after El Nino affected countries like Malawi and Zambia in 2024.

Prices in Kenya have been above US$450/tonne while prices in Zambia from April to June 2025 after the harvest were around US$200/tonne. Tanzania and Uganda have also had good harvests with prices under US$300/tonne in producing areas. Transport costs can account for around US$80/tonne of the difference, at most (less from Uganda and Tanzania).

Zambia maintained export restrictions until August, which meant farmers received low prices and the traders who bought up the harvest made windfall profits when the restrictions were lifted.

There have been similar differences in soybeans between what farmers receive and prices paid by customers. Soymeal from beans is essential for animal feed to expand poultry and fish farming to improve nutrition of low-income households.

An inquiry in 2024 by the Competition Authority of Kenya into animal feed identified obstacles in cross-border markets. The government opened up to soymeal imports from India to provide an alternative source and prices fell 20% in early 2025. Kenya is surrounded by countries that could and should be ramping up their own soybean production for expanded regional trade.

Solutions

It bears repeating, east and southern Africa is the best area in the world to expand production of crops such as maize and soybean. The expansion would mean some of the lowest instead of the highest prices internationally and lay the foundation for downstream food processing.

The G20 ministers adopted the African philosophy of ubuntu, “I am because you are”, to envision food systems which recognise interdependence across communities, borders and generations.

It means a complete change from the current situation where countries practise “beggar thy neighbour” policies such as restricting trade when a neighbour is facing drought.

Market monitoring is a crucial part of rebuilding cooperation instead of division. The G20 points to the Agricultural Market Information System, an inter-agency platform to enhance food market transparency and policy response for food security launched in 2011 by G20 Ministers of Agriculture. The platform provides data on global food supply and prices. But the platform has no data on markets in sub-Saharan African countries except South Africa and Nigeria.

Without data, countries can’t address hunger and food insecurity. As shocks become more frequent and severe, this work needs to massively accelerate.

Our analysis of market outcomes and factors influencing prices points to a straightforward set of measures.

First, regional monitoring of food markets is essential to guard against market manipulation. Monitoring needs to cover pricing, trade flows and associated barriers, and changes in market structure for a more robust understanding of markets. It is especially important in light of climate-related shocks.

Second, improved governance of food value chains to address food security and supply needs to be accompanied by enforcement of clear rules against abuse of company power that transcends national borders. Competition authorities need to be effective referees.

Third, investments in infrastructure such as storage facilities and appropriate irrigation are essential to adapt to the effects of climate change, improve resilience and yields, and safeguard against volatile markets.

Fourth, financing should be mobilised for small and medium scale producers who form the backbone of agricultural production across the region.

A critical question, of course, is about the political will to take these measures forward.

Grace Nsomba acknowledges funding from the Shamba Centre for Food and Climate, Open Society Foundation, COMESA Competition Commission and Competition Commission South Africa for research on food and agriculture markets.

Simon Roberts acknowedges funding from the Shamba Centre for Food and Climate, Open Society Foundation, COMESA Competition Commission and Competition Commission South Africa for research on food and agriculture markets.

– ref. High food prices in east and southern Africa: four steps to boost production and make markets work better – https://theconversation.com/high-food-prices-in-east-and-southern-africa-four-steps-to-boost-production-and-make-markets-work-better-266498