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Daily Maverick
03-07-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
African Union's dependence on donor funding is a legacy of rampant colonial plunder
Mo Ibrahim, the prominent Sudanese-British billionaire, ignited a potent debate at his annual governance weekend in Marrakesh, Morocco, an unofficial gathering of African luminaries. Ibrahim criticised the African Union's (AU's) 70% dependence on external financing during his conversation with the former AU commission chairperson Moussa Faki Mahamat: 'You call them colonisers, but when they give us money, they're partners… This is a farce; either you're serious, or you forget it.' He was ostensibly championing African sovereignty. However, this perspective, while nominally highlighting a crucial contradiction, suffers from a fundamental conceptual flaw in its assessment of such financial assistance. These contributions, regardless of their framing as development partnerships, are not benevolent donations from the West; they are, in essence, a protracted form of restitution for centuries of systemic exploitation. The historical timeline of Africa's subjugation dates back to 1415, with Portugal's occupation of Ceuta, Morocco, initiating a predatory colonial expansion that culminated in the infamous 'Scramble for Africa' in the 19th century. The Berlin Conference of 1884-1885 formalised the partition of the continent among European powers, heedless of existing cultural, ethnic, or social boundaries. This exploitation, which extended well into the latter half of the 20th century, left indelible scars and profound economic dislocations that continue to plague the continent. Slave trade The transatlantic slave trade, a particularly brutal manifestation of Western colonialism from the 15th to 19th centuries, forcibly transported more than 12.5 million Africans to the Americas between 1501 and 1866. This inhumane trade was not merely economic exploitation; it was underpinned by an intellectual scaffolding designed to rationalise the subjugation of black people as inherently inferior, solidifying the notion of white racial supremacy. This deliberate construction of racial hierarchy created a cohesive ideological framework that justified domination and exclusion based on race, becoming an integral part of the modern global system, permeating international relations, economics, politics and culture, with repercussions still felt today. These were not isolated historical events but systematic processes that birthed modern racism as an ideology and institutional practice. The colonial project relied on these conceptions not only to legitimise human trafficking, but also to solidify a global structure in which Africa occupied a subordinate position. The scale of this historical plunder is staggering. One conservative estimate suggests that the British Empire alone had extracted more than £35-trillion (in current terms) from its various colonies across the world, alongside an abundance of cheap or completely unpaid labour and vast quantities of commodities such as rubber, sugar and oil. Continuing extractive dynamic The outflow of wealth from Africa persists even after the end of direct colonial rule. A modern study revealed that between 1970 and 2010, $814-billion (in 2010 US dollars) flowed out of sub-Saharan Africa through capital flight, illicit financial flows, resource mispricing, and debt servicing. This figure significantly surpasses both official development aid and foreign direct investment to the region, underscoring a continuing extractive dynamic. Beyond direct financial losses, colonialism inflicted immense opportunity costs, impeding Africa's natural development. While Europe's net foreign assets reached 70% of its GDP by 1914, Africa suffered a lost annual growth rate of 0.9% to 1.3% during the colonial era. This is in addition to the destruction of indigenous economic systems, land ownership structures, impeding industrial development, enforcing monoculture economies, fragmentation of trade zones by creating artificial political and economic boundaries, and the suppression of independent scientific, economic and intellectual advancement. Furthermore, the pattern of European colonial exploitation versus developmental investment was not uniform. Britain, the largest colonial power, allocated a mere 16.9% of its capital exports to all its colonies (excluding Canada, Australia and New Zealand), which is less than the 20.5% directed to the United States alone. Any claim about a beneficial contribution of colonial powers in the development of their African colonies is, at best, a fallacy. Even anthropometric studies indicate a decline in the height of African people by at least 1.1cm during colonisation, signalling worsened health and nutrition due to land grabbing, forced labour and disease, reflecting a decline in the biological standard of living with long-term economic implications. Furthermore, European colonialism arrested the natural evolution of African social and political systems. African societies were denied the gradual development necessary for the maturity of stable governing institutions and the internal construction of political and social legitimacy. Colonial powers deliberately dismantled traditional structures and local governance systems, replacing them with authoritarian, externally imposed authorities serving colonial interests. Political instability This severed the organic interaction between society and the state, a vital foundation for long-term political stability. The direct consequences are evident in the recurrent civil wars, coups and political instability that have plagued African nations throughout the 20th and 21st centuries, leaving a legacy of autocratic institutions dominated by military or ethnic elites. In contrast, Europe itself was not immune to internal strife and political fragmentation during its own political development. The continent endured centuries of religious conflicts and devastating wars, such as the Thirty Years' War in the 17th century and the two world wars in the 20th century, before forging formulas for political and social consensus, including constitutional democracy and the rule of law. The crucial distinction, however, lies in Europe's ability to undergo these transformations from within its own societal and political fabric, accumulating historical experiences organically. Africa, conversely, was deprived of this process by colonial subjugation imposed through force and domination, rather than internal interaction or social and political negotiation. This distortion warped the paths of state-building, leading to the reproduction of oppressive structures post-independence, often under national guises but with fundamentally colonial tools. Although development aid is typically not classified as reparations, for the purpose of Mo Ibrahim's argument, let us regard it as such. Astronomical figures In 1999, the African World Reparations and Repatriation Truth Commission called for the West to pay $777-trillion, a figure equivalent to approximately $1.34-quadrillion in 2023. More recently, the Brattle Group, an international consultancy firm, quantified the cost of the transatlantic chattel slavery at $100-trillion to $131-trillion. Taking the most conservative estimate of $100-trillion as the cost of colonialism in Africa, the scale of redress required is astronomical. If external partners were to pay the entire AU annual budget of $650-million, it would take approximately 153,000 years to compensate for the colonial plundering. Even if we assume that all developmental and humanitarian aid to Africa, currently estimated at a maximum of $3.5-billion annually (disregarding the political and economic conditionalities that often ensure donors gain $2.15 for every $1 disbursed in aid) constitutes reparations, Europe would still need more than 28,500 years of sustained payments to compensate for the $100-trillion in colonial losses, assuming no inflation or interest. It's possible — only just possible — that the clamour kicked up by Ibrahim springs from the AU's move to designate 2025 the 'Year of Justice for Africans and People of African Descent Through Reparations'. No one genuinely expects Europe, or any former colonial power, to cough up reparations that could ever truly right the wrongs of colonialism's devastation. Those wounds run too deep, carved by centuries of fire, bullets, and blood — no sum could balance that ledger. Yet, the claims stand, unyielding, timeless and just. However, the mere whisper of reparations seems enough to rattle European investors, and Europe-based investors especially, as the global economy stumbles. Their reflex? To polish the meagre scraps of aid they toss our way, dressing them up as some grand atonement for a past they'd rather we forget. Ibrahim's comments were made in dialogue during his good governance event with the departing chairperson of the African Union Commission, Moussa Faki Mahamat, whose tenure from March 2017 to February 2025 was marked by significant controversy. While Ibrahim is keen to criticise the AU's sources of funding, he overlooked the widespread characterisation of his guest as a ' disaster ' for the organisation. AU staff accused Faki of corruption, cronyism and leadership failures, alleging a mafia-style cartel that operates with impunity within the AU. The greater problem for the AU, and the source of its ineffectiveness, lies not solely in its funding sources but fundamentally in the calibre of leadership exemplified by politicians like Faki. Profoundly problematic Perhaps Ibrahim was correct in one regard: his derision of the slogan 'African solutions for African problems'. This slogan is, indeed, profoundly problematic. Africa does not suffer from 'African problems' with a specific racial nationality or phenotypic characteristic. Rather, it confronts political, economic and social challenges within the context of an ongoing geopolitical exploitation — another reality that the 'wise men' convening in Marrakesh often conveniently avoid acknowledging, lest it affect their direct economic interests and investments. The Emirati role in the Sudanese conflict serves as a prominent case in point. Former colonisers, those whom Ibrahim disdains calling such, played a significant role in creating these problems. These problems require solutions commensurate with their nature: political, economic and social solutions made by policies tailored to address them. Crafting these solutions demands not merely financial resources but also the genuine exchange of expertise and true investment in developing Africa's human capital to forge them. There is no foreseeable future where European nations can simply be just 'partners' free from the shadow of their colonial history. African nations need to continue reminding Europe of its ongoing benefits of this historical exploitation. This historical reality may come as something of a disappointment to Ibrahim, but historical amnesia is a luxury only the beneficiaries can afford. The tangible and enduring impact of colonialism on our lived present is a stark reality, not merely an abstraction to be dismissed with Ibrahim's sarcasm. The past is not merely prologue; it is an active force shaping the present and demanding a more nuanced and historically informed understanding of Africa's path forward. DM
Business of Fashion
16-05-2025
- Business
- Business of Fashion
Redefining 'Made in Africa'
The author has shared a Podcast. You will need to accept and consent to the use of cookies and similar technologies by our third-party partners (including: YouTube, Instagram or Twitter), in order to view embedded content in this article and others you may visit in future. Africa is experiencing an exciting shift, creatively and commercially, with growing global attention on its rapidly expanding middle-class population. Yet, local fashion entrepreneurs must navigate unique operational challenges and misconceptions about the quality and reputation of 'Made in Africa.' Pink Mango's Maryse Mbonyumutwa entered apparel manufacturing in Rwanda to address both economic and social sustainability. '[Africa] is sustainable by nature, as we've not fully industrialised yet,' he says. Laduma Ngxokolo, founder of South African luxury knitwear brand MaXhosa Africa, drew inspiration from his culture's traditional designs: 'How do we take local traditional aesthetics and modernise them?' he asked. To celebrate African creativity, Reni Folawiyo founded the concept store Alara in Nigeria. 'I started Alara from a very emotional place to elevate African creators, both on the continent and the diaspora,' Folawiyo says. 'The idea of elevating but also empowering remains in everything we do.' On this episode of The BoF Podcast, an illuminating conversation unfolds on stage at BoF CROSSROADS 2025, where Mbonyumutwa, Ngxokolo and Folawiyo, alongside Sudanese-British writer Rozan Ahmed, discussed Africa's unique contributions to fashion, the opportunities in sustainable manufacturing, and how they are redefining what it means to produce, create and sell in Africa. Key Insights: Africa's potential lies in sustainable manufacturing and social responsibility. Mbonyumutwa explains, 'Africa is here to offer social sustainability ... to make sure that now when we talk about environmental sustainability and social sustainability they are aligned.' Local retail can powerfully celebrate and elevate global African creativity. Folawiyo's vision for Alara was clear. 'I started Alara in a very emotional place. I wanted to celebrate African creators, both on the continent and in the diaspora. I wanted to elevate their work, because I hadn't seen it done anywhere else,' she says. 'It was a self-empowerment, self-determination moment and I wanted it to be celebratory.' 'Made in Africa' must represent prestige, not affordability. Ngxokolo says, 'It's not cheap, yet there's a perception that anything that is made in Africa should be reasonably priced or cheap. We put in our heart and souls into our work and present it to the world so that it sits next to their level of brands.' Additional Resources:
The Guardian
19-02-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The Long Wave: Elmiene's songs of hope in the shadow of war
Hello and welcome to The Long Wave. This week I spoke to the Sudanese-British singer-songwriter Elmiene, a soul and R&B sensation who took the music industry by storm after just one viral video. We talked about his songs, the war in Sudan, and how to navigate the loss of home and face the reality of displacement. But first, the weekly roundup. London theatre to stage 'forgotten' play | Alterations, by the Guyanese writer Michael Abbensetts, is to be performed at the National Theatre in London nearly five decades after its opening night in 1978. The tale, which follows a Caribbean tailor who tries to establish himself on Carnaby Street, will be directed by Lynette Linton. DRC snubbed by AFC? | Arsenal have been accused of snubbing the Democratic Republic of the Congo by not meeting its foreign minister to discuss the English football club's 'bloodstained' Visit Rwanda sponsorship deal. Thérèse Kayikwamba Wagner visited London last week to raise concerns about Rwanda's support for the M23 militia that is seizing parts of eastern DRC. Jamaica tackles youth violence | The largest island in the English-speaking Caribbean has been struggling with a sharp increase in gang-related violence. Experts are calling for an anti-crime strategy to address the social and economic factors that contribute to children getting swept up in gangs. USAid freeze hits HIV care in Zimbabwe | Trump's executive order suspending foreign assistance has forced clinics in Zimbabwe to close and led to the dismissal of HIV nurses. Though the Trump administration gave a reprieve to some HIV and Aids services after public outcry, healthcare workers in the country remain unclear about what is exempted. English town remembers Malcolm X | The US civil rights leader's visit to the English town of Smethwick in February 1965, less than two weeks before his assassination, is to be commemorated in street art. Malcolm X's trip to the West Midlands followed what was described as the most racist election campaign in British history. The first thing I say to Elmiene is that I still haven't been able to get through the video for Open Light. On this track, he eschews glossy, scripted visuals and simply filmed his cousin's wedding in Cairo. Seconds into scenes of dancing and familial togetherness, I broke down. War erupted in Sudan almost two years ago, and my family, Elmiene's and millions of others were fractured and scattered as people fled. Open Light's images of togetherness are a powerful reminder of everything that has been lost. The song is from Elmiene's latest EP, For the Deported, which is dedicated to those families and all who have been made refugees or displaced by war. The 23-year-old singer grew up in Oxford, UK, but is still profoundly connected to Sudan and his extended family. Despite our two-decade age gap and the differences in our backgrounds – I was born and raised in Sudan – the similarities in our formative experiences are almost identical. Elmiene grew up in a community of five aunties and 15 cousins, 'all in Oxford doing our thing. We never left Oxford because our parents didn't understand the concept of a holiday that wasn't in Sudan, so it was either Oxford or Khartoum.' I tell him that it's uncanny how similar Sudanese people are all over the world: growing up in big communal clusters, part of a constant stream of weddings and meals and social events and, no matter how far away we lived, with Sudan as the centre of our identity and emotional hinterland. Elmiene captures that sense of yearning through the medium of soul music and a voice so powerful yet gentle that it feels like a physical consolation. It is a testament to his raw talent that he blew up three years ago off the back of a cover of D'Angelo's Untitled, filmed on a phone by a friend in front of his family's garage. The video ends abruptly, he says, because his friend's battery died. Elmiene's rendition of the neo-soul classic went viral and he began to get attention from music industry titans. He cobbled together the train fare to London, crashed on a friend's couch and within weeks he was on his way to stardom. Elmiene has since featured on NPR's Tiny Desk, been shortlisted for the Brits' rising star award and is now in Los Angeles recording his next album. The singer credits his rapid success to being 'just a nerd'. Growing up he was immersed in the back catalogues of veteran soul and R&B singers such as Luther Vandross, Donny Hathaway, Sam Cooke and Raphael Saadiq. 'I just knew that whatever this was, I loved it,' he says, admitting to being 'an absorbent sponge'. To this day, he feels 'an endless pull of soul and R&B. When I start melodies, I just have a massive bank, like some weird [musical] AI.' Tribe and kinship The rest is down to Elmiene's mum. He is an only child to a single mother, a Sudanese immigrant who was temperamentally independent enough to support her son's unconventional career path. They made up this 'weird little duo,' he says. As parties and events in the broader community swirled around them, they would prefer to 'stay home, have our fuul and watch Turkish dramas'. He speaks fondly of his mother, describing her as 'a special one'. While his cousins had faced the 'classic Sudanese pressure' to become doctors and engineers, Elmiene's mother simply encouraged him to do what made him happy. 'I'm so lucky,' he says. Sign up to The Long Wave Nesrine Malik and Jason Okundaye deliver your weekly dose of Black life and culture from around the world after newsletter promotion Elmiene's music and identity is grounded in that sweet spot of being close enough to tribe and kinship that you can appreciate its profound value, but distant enough to be able to imagine a different way of being, especially in exile. In Golden, a track that was played at the late Virgil Abloh's final Louis Vuitton show, one verse exemplifies the risks of nostalgia for a homeland and not leaning into reinventing oneself: Nowadays it seems that all my blades have been blunted; Cuttin' through life, my path all rugged. Making mistakes 'cause my sight is clouded, All of my senses have been runnin', 'Cause I always fall in love with last year. It's hard for me, particularly in the shadow of war, not to be in love with the past and the time before the conflict. A time when I took for granted the comforts of having a home, wedding gatherings, teas in the yard and the effortless sprawling flow of being part of a Sudanese family. As we share stories about our relatives' plight since April 2023, I realise that we also share a constant survivor's guilt. Elmiene says: 'I'm here in LA or New York and at the same time my grandmother's hearing bullets and grenades.' He asks himself: 'Is this where I should have been? What am I doing being a fucking musician? I feel like a clown sometimes.' When the war erupted, I had a similar sense of irrational self-reproach for being safe while others so close and dear were not. 'The pursuit of peace' I say to Elmiene that though he may feel as if his career is trivial in times of war, it has profound value. As a journalist, it has been hard to draw proportional global attention to the conflict, and I think the way that people process Sudan is compromised by the fact that our art, culture, peacetime joy and character have not been foregrounded. There is a human interface in Elmiene's music that not only helps Sudanese people process a massive trauma, it also allows the world to know the country beyond the headlines. In his words: to show 'there exists a world in east Africa where we speak Arabic and we're black as well'. It strikes me that this is the main difference between us. To Elmiene, For the Deported is an endeavour of finding somewhere to put his love for Sudan. I feel that I am constantly carrying that love, unable to convert it into anything but melancholy. Elmiene takes on a sort of kindly and sage role in our conversation. I ask how his music enables him to process what has happened to Sudan. He says his work centres on 'the pursuit of comfort and peace in yourself. It all stems from the fact that our comfort – the place where people looked, spoke and acted like us – doesn't exist any more. Now that we're living in someone else's comfort, we can only find it in ourselves. I'm trying to find comfort in myself, and hopefully through that someone else might do the same.' I sat in silence after we said our goodbyes, trying to absorb that message. Then I attempted to watch Open Light's wedding scene again. This time, I made it through to the end. Though there were tears, I managed, in glimpses, to see not all that is gone, but all that still exists. To receive the complete version of The Long Wave in your inbox every Wednesday, please subscribe here.
