In reflecting on the rights of indigenous people in Africa, Angela N. Khaminwa remembers the story of a young man taken from the Belgian Congo in 1904 and placed on display at a US zoo. Unless traditional communities are recognized as an inherent part of national identity, she warns, modern day society risks a continuation of the gawking of a century ago.

Recently, I was half-surprised to learn about Ota Benga, one of the many twisted stories that characterize attitudes that Europeans held of Africans in the early 1900s. In 1904, Ota Benga, a young Twa, was taken from then Belgian Congo to the United States by an enthusiastic explorer. Treated as sub-human and a biological curiosity, he was ‘displayed’ at the St. Louis World Fair and later placed in the Bronx Zoo in a cage together with a parrot and an orangutan.

The image of a man caged and gawked at by children and adults is painful to visualize. However, despite the cultural changes embedded in the last 100 years, it seems that this gawking still occurs, albeit in less stark forms. People behave in strange ways when they think, or are convinced, that they are more culturally (and this is almost always equated with morally) advanced than others. The view of the traditional from the modern generates narratives wrapped up in generalizations, paternalism, and prejudice. The rush to modernization inspires a collective vision of a modern culture that pushes those who can’t - or won’t - assimilate to the margins of the national milieu.

An example of this marginalized existence can be gleaned from the Twa, the community from which Benga came. Today, many Twa are forced to self-exploit by relying on the gaze of others to survive financially. “An estimated 80% of Batwa earned capital from begging. Batwa are most able to support themselves when they mold themselves into the stereotypes expected of them. To remain docile, submissive and animal-like reaffirms the social hierarchies to which other groups have assigned them” (Refugees International, 2004).

Surviving socially is also problematic. Twa negotiate prejudice daily. “Many Ugandans … will not sit or eat with Batwas or allow inter-marriage. Batwas are often banned from collecting water from wells used by other groups. … Batwas are forced to remain in the margins of public places, and when selling goods must sit on the outskirts of markets, away from other vendors” (The Defender, 2002).

These types of experiences are not unique to the Twa. To various degrees, indigenous communities are subject to bias and discrimination which affects access to social services, inhibits chances at employment, and restricts participation in politics.

This exclusion replays the story of Ota Benga. In this redux, many are the gawking (and sometimes disinterested) observers barely recognizing, valuing, or protecting cultural worth. Core claims to land and natural resources have been muffled by reframing or misrepresentation. This leads to escalating social tension that pits modern and seemingly suave communities against traditional communities viewed as ill-equipped to handle modernity.

There are numerous basic questions that come to mind when considering the conditions of indigenous people. Firstly, are current definitions of indigenity appropriate to the African context? The ILO Convention (No. 169) concerning Indigenous and Tribal Peoples
in Independent Countries defines indigenous communities as: tribal communities in independent countries whose socio-cultural conditions distinguish them and who are regulated by “customs or traditions or by special laws or regulations” and/or communities who occupied a country or region at the time of colonization or present boundaries and who retain their socio-political institutions.

The latter definition allows us to differentiate between black and non-black Africans but is an inappropriate fit in the context of minority and indigenous peoples’ rights. The former definition emerges as the most fitting for the continent (including groups such as the Pokot in Kenya and Uganda, the Barabaig pastoralists in Tanzania, the San in Southern Africa, and the Hadzabe in Ethiopia). But there are still significant levels of ambiguity surrounding the term.

Secondly, is there pressure on indigenous groups to assimilate? There appears to be tension around the idea of the wholly traditional (read historic) and the partially traditional (read contemporary) world. Despite the fact that many cultures in Africa have evolved into distinctly modern cultures, their nature is to assimilate. Social pressures focus on conformity to a generalized idea of modernity. This leads to a strong in-group dynamic which views the outsiders (the indigenous communities) and their agendas suspiciously.

Thirdly, does the action of recognizing an indigenous group jeopardize national cohesion? The hesitancy of governments to address the issue of internal difference full-force may be due to a need to promote national cohesion because it may result in giving a community additional protection and thus be perceived as politically favouring a community.

Fourthly, does recognizing a group as indigenous narrow development? Indigenous groups are entitled to certain rights under international law including access to ancestral land and attendant natural resources. (For example, the rights of the peoples concerned to the natural resources pertaining to their lands shall be specially safeguarded. These rights include the right of these peoples to participate in the use, management and conservation of these resources.) These claims may be in direct collision with government (or special interest) plans.

These questions are key points to consider, and return to, when considering indigenity on the continent.

We may not all agree in the definition of indigenous or the categorization of communities as indigenous. Regardless of what label we place on ethnic communities that maintain traditional lifestyles and livelihoods, there is no doubt that many of these communities are vulnerable to labour and sexual exploitation. Dispossession, poor access to health services and appropriate education systems, exclusion from participation in development, denial of cultural and language rights, and extinction as areas in which indigenous groups are vulnerable are some of the results (African Commission for Human and Peoples’ Rights, Working Group Report, 2002).

In addition, as a 2004 report by the Special Rapporteur on Indigenous Peoples’ states, “Indigenous peoples bear a disproportionate share of the social and human costs of resource-intensive and resource-extractive industries, large dams and other infrastructure projects, logging and plantations, bio-prospecting, industrial fishing and farming, and also eco-tourism…”

It is clear that they require some form of government recognition of their disenfranchised position and subsequent protection and remediation. Indigenous communities must also play a role by proactively engaging with the government, realizing that changes on their part will be necessary to avoid chronic economic marginalization and underdevelopment.

The reverberations of engagement between the old and the new will never diminish. Modernity will continue to clash with the traditional as long as life progresses. We must recognize traditional communities as a valuable cultural resource that forms an inherent part of the national identity and should be promoted and preserved. If not, we will continue to gawk, uncaring, and in the process lose our humanity.

* Angela N. Khaminwa is a consultant based in Nairobi. Her area of interest is social inclusion, coexistence, and conflict.

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Drought and famine are not normal conditions for any group of human beings, but what is normal is people in the west being lied to about the causes, writes Judith Amanthis, who lists various IMF policies as being responsible for the food crisis in Niger.

The IMF and the World Bank, and the EU as well, are killing Africans in their thousands in Niger, Mali and throughout the Sahel region of Africa. By August this year in Niger alone, three million are threatened with death from starvation. Up to 800,000, especially children, have already died. Niger is the second most impoverished country on this earth. Starvation, according to one aid agency, is normal there.

Drought and locusts destroyed crops, it's true, but the rains were down only 11% from normal. There is some food in Niger. The problem is that large numbers of people, especially in the rural areas, are just too poor to buy it when their crops fail. Why? First, subsistence farming in Africa doesn't bring in much money, or any money. It has no western financial backers. Second, in March 2005 the Niger government, having secured Highly Indebted Poor Country status for Niger, implemented an IMF condition on further loans: it put a 19% VAT on basic grains whose price had risen by up to 89% over the past five years. Traders naturally sell to the highest bidder. In this case they sold grains to other West African countries. The free market knows no borders, colonial or otherwise.

Many of the rural people in the Sahel region are nomadic livestock farmers. In Niger the market in livestock has slumped. Farmers who would have sold cattle and other stock to bring in money to buy food are now unable to sell starving animals on a glutted market where prices have fallen by 25% over the past five years. Many villages are now almost entirely women, children and the old, because the men have gone to the urban areas or other African countries in search of food, work and money. African women and children are as usual forced onto the front line.

But the western picture of starving peasant women and their children is one-sided. In March hungry women and men in Niamey, Maradi and Tahoua came out in protest against food prices. Placards read, 'We're hungry. Help us'. So there are angry urban dwellers and workers as well, who are well-organised and prepared to risk imprisonment - the government's response to the protest, according to one source - to get what they need. The pattern is similar throughout Africa. The people's struggle to survive and pressurise their governments into acting for them rather than for the western powers gets left out of the news altogether.

One of the IMF's most shocking acts of war against Africans in Niger has been to demand another condition on aid: the sale of emergency grain reserves. Over the past five years, this policy has contributed to famines in other parts of Africa, notably Malawi in 2002 and again this year. In fact famine stalks large swathes of central Africa. The rationale? Cheap grain is not to flood the market before harvest time. For this reason, the Niger government’s ‘cheap’ grain came on the market too late and too expensive.

Long term drought and famine can never be normal for any group of human beings. What is normal is people in the west being lied to about the causes of Africans' suffering and what Africans are doing about it.

Western oil and forestry companies who have created climate change are as implicated as well. Western Europe and the US are responsible for 50% of the world's carbon emissions, and forestry multinationals are destroying the earth's 'lungs', including the great Congo River Basin forest, at 26 hectares a minute (37 football pitches). Greater heat and erratic rain in the Sahel region means the Sahara Desert is creeping south. Areas like northern Nigeria and Senegal are drying up as well. In erratic weather, locusts breed more heavily, but since the mid 1980s, the West African regional organisation, OCALAV, which was set up at independence in the early 1960s to control locust swarms and other plagues has been restructured. Its funding has been cut. African governments which have restructured entire economies to make life easier for multinationals can no longer pay for services vital to the people's survival.

These same governments - eight throughout the Sahel and West Africa - have welcomed US military personnel into their armies so that young African men can be trained to protect western imperialism in the 'war on terror'.

As for cross border and selective use of pesticides, first, it's unaffordable by African governments, and second, it's unmanageable. Inter-governmental co-operation has broken down in the age of G8 grotesqueries. Live 8 put money in western multinational and individual bank accounts, period. Killing locusts at the hopper stage, before they take flight - often across colonial borders – and devour people's crops, is essential. Whatever the pros and cons of using pesticides to control locust swarms, ordinary Africans have, over a period of hundreds of years, had control of their environment stolen from them, and with genocidal consequences.

In June this year, President Tanja of Niger met with George Bush. As well as the Sahel region’s strategic importance in the ‘war on terror’, Niger is the world’s third largest uranium exporter. A new generation nuclear arsenal is in the US pipeline and Tanja is handing Africa’s uranium to US arms manufacturers on a plate.

In early August, Tanja was vilified in the western media for denying that millions of people were starving and for complaining that only a fraction of the promised aid from the west had arrived. At the same time the UN congratulated the government of Mali for dealing better with the imminent death by starvation of millions more Africans. The argument is clear: if some African governments are efficient enough to keep the lid on wholesale famine, the problem must be down to an individual, to who holds presidential office. What wasn't mentioned was that the free food handed out by the UN and the government to people in Mali was, according to a BBC World Service report, only obtainable in one particular area if you worked for an Oxfam water development project. The reporter asked a woman who was digging a hole to conserve rain water if she was happy to be getting food. She and everyone else working with her laughed uproariously.

* This article is from Kilombo, the African Liberation Support Campaign Network's journal.

* Please send comments to [email protected]

The management structure of many non-profit organisations is dominated by men and often functions as a reflection of wider inequalities in society, states Shola Oshodi. Managers – mainly men – have often paid lip service to redressing imbalances and even when programmes have been developed they have been implemented as an adjunct to other factors or programs. In this context, Oshodi calls for a more gender fair culture within the non-profit sector.

In recent times the words gender and empowerment have become more and more a part of the development discourse. Different meanings, contexts and perceptions have been ascribed to it by different people depending on which side of the divide one is on. It has become a major issue that international or transnational NGO donors have now made part of their criteria in funding other organisations and their programs. But can one really say that gender and empowerment are reflected in these organisations themselves? Can the non-profit sector successfully become engendered without empowerment?

The importance of gender and empowerment in NGO’s cannot be overemphasized. Over the years these two terminologies have, to some extent, brought about a new awareness and raised the interest and determination of people in development to deal with age-old traditions, mindsets and assumptions that have stereotyped and affected more than half of the world’s population. Although these issues are currently being dealt with, more needs to be done if the desired objective of equality and justice for all is to be achieved, especially as it relates to the nonprofit sector as an institution.

Organisational culture, according to Kelleher et al (1996), “is the pattern of shared beliefs, and values that has worked to solve important organizational problems in the past” [Grabbing the tiger by the Tail, (CCIC, 1996), P.42]. These values and beliefs include and are not limited to patriarchy, bureaucracy, work behavior, workplace politics, symbols, power and masculine principles. These values and beliefs were typical of the first set of NGO’s, which came to shape and govern the way nonprofit business is conducted today. These stem from the society in which the founders and leaders grew up. The prevailing organisational culture today is predominantly what is obtainable in the larger society, and this is patriarchal and hegemonic and seeks to promote male interest over all others. Given the above definition one can by the same token say that organisational culture has also worked against solving important organisational problems of gender and empowerment within the non-profit sector. Men occupy most of the top positions in the non-profit sector in a similar way to what can be found in the private and public sector. It is a reflection of the bureaucratic and patriarchal culture of the larger society.

The structure of organisations have also not helped matters as most of the “substructure of organisations remains essentially patriarchal: designed by men, led by men in ways comparable with men’s interest” [Grabbing the Tiger by the Tail (CCIC, 1996), p. 13]. Such structures range from the composition of the management team to board membership. Therefore, the management of non-profits - mainly by men - leaves one with a big question of how can men with mindsets and stereotypes that see women as subordinates and lesser equals actively plan and execute development programs for women. These policies or activities cannot effectively tackle issues that relate and dwell on the subordination and disempowerment of women.

Prevailing organisational culture and structure have coloured and brought about several inimical attitudes on the part of players in the non profit sectors in handling the issue of bringing a gender perspective into their organisation and work. “It is an inconvenience to some, … others nod in agreement, but postpone taking the responsibility, … yet others give in to denial that NGO’s might even perpetuate social inequalities” [Clayton Andrew, NGO’s Civil Society and the State: Building Democracy in Transitional Societies, (1996),P72]. In general, they pay lip service to gender issues in their organisation while others pay little or insignificant attention. On the whole, it has been shown that even those who have made it part of their organisation’s objective, most of the time treat it as an adjunct to other factors or programs they believe are more important.

In fact women’s movements have had to spearhead and place the issue of gender and empowerment at the forefront of the development discourse, leaving these movements with the responsibility of negotiating and bargaining with men and powerful masculine institutions. Right from the 18th century till today, the women’s movement “have organised against inequalities based on sex and demanded legal reforms aimed at removing patriarchy within the family and society” [New C, cited in Jackson and Pearson, Feminist Visions of Development, (1998, London and New York) P75]. This has been done by seeking legislative reform and through lobbying of international bodies like the UN to advocate for women’s rights.

In addition, these movements have succeeded in moving women’s interest into the public arena of politics, economics and power institutions through the reframing of issues into rights for women while at the same time advocating for women’s right to occupy positions of power in terms of political and economic decision making within the society.

If one examines NGOs, would NGO’s themselves be truthfully labeled as organisations that further the pressing issues of gender and empowerment through the setup of their own organisations? NGO’s have often allocated resources and implemented various programs to help women, but often these were actually designed and implemented by men. Furthermore, as a way of upholding the prevalent status quo between the sexes, they have sought to remove and substitute the word “women” with gender.

It is highly important that the terminology gender should be used together with the word women to make NGO's in the development circle grab the bull by the horn instead of providing them with a term under which they hide and embellish their unwillingness - intentionally or otherwise - to bring about equality and justice within the development world.

Gender issues should not only be tackled from the feminine perspective, but also from the masculine, in terms of re-educating men to change their perception of women’s role /position which should in turn bring about a change in the nature of men’s participation which would better foster the empowerment of women. Rowlands, (1998) notes that eliminating male bias and moving women out of the condition of near-universal subordination that they still currently occupy, will require cultural, economic and political changes [Afshar Haleh, Women and Empowerment (1998), P17].

Although there have been various attempts to treat gender and empowerment as separate and distinct terms in development, both are interrelated. One cannot function or successfully be achieved without the other. For some time now the focus has been on the number of women employed as against men without a correlation of the type of job/positions women are employed in or occupy in the non-profit sector. I sincerely believe that the issue of gender cannot be fully treated without empowerment. An organisation, in complying with the request on the need to ensure some sort of gender fairness, may still perpetuate bias, inequality and injustice by employing women at the lower cadre of the organization.

There is a need for development managers especially in sub-Saharan Africa to work towards transforming the formulation and execution of development policies from the way it stands now into more “feminist values of openness, fair treatment, clear lines of accountability, unity and shared responsibility and above all a commitment to people trust” [Kelleher et al, Grabbing the tiger by the Tail, (CCIC, 1996), P41]. Empowerment for women may well stem from the involvement and leadership of women at all levels rather than the inclusion of women for the sake of “number equality” as many people think or advocate. As rightly pointed out by Fowler, (1997) this would be further aided by a gender fair culture within NGO practices [Fowler Alan, Striking a Balance: A guide to Enhancing the Effectiveness of Non-Governmental Organizations in International Development (1997, London :Earthscan), P79].

* Shola Oshodi-John is the Programme Coordinator for the Civil Liberties Organization, Nigeria’s foremost human rights and membership based organization. She has worked with international organizations and women’s groups within and outside Nigeria for the past six years with a focus on international development, gender and public policy and non-profit management.

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Do African presidents have a life after they leave office? asks Henning Melber. For many years in post-independence Africa, the image of African leaders was of ‘Big Men’ who could only be removed from office by their own death. But a recent shift shows an increasing number of leaders who hand over presidential powers voluntarily. In June this year the African Statesmen Initiative was launched in Mali’s capital Bamako with several elder statesmen committing to democratic ideals. The positive trend does not necessarily mean that anti-democratic tendencies have been banished, writes Melber.

Retired African Heads of State seem to emerge in ever-bigger numbers as a new species on the continent. Opting out of office more or less voluntarily, they are seeking an active role and requiring a defined task for their remaining years. “Is there life after presidency?” asked BBC Africa Live of its web site visitors in mid-2005. The numerous responses showed not only a strong interest in the issue but also offered the whole panorama of possible views, including the few selected ones below:

- “Presidents are people too. The life after presidency should be retirement.” (Ghana)
- “Former presidents should be respected because of what they did for a country. However at the same time, when Mugabe becomes a former president, my views will change.” (Zimbabwe)
- “There is always life and prosperity for presidents in Africa because most of them are thieves.” (UK)
- “Oh yes, there is life after the presidency. In fact a far better life … compared to the presidency. For example, you get to sleep peacefully at night (don’t have to worry about whether your army is plotting to oust you the next morning); you become a well respected statesman (provided you left office voluntarily … poor Charles Taylor), and the lot. Life after the presidency in Africa is like life after death – although no one has ever died (please, don’t count Jesus) and come back to give account of what it is like at the other end. However, the good news is that Africa is on the right path. At least we are beginning to count Africa’s former presidents who left office constitutionally. And it should send a very strong positive message to sitting-presidents that … yes, there is in fact very good life after the presidency, given you kept your promises to the best of your ability.” (Liberia)

By the end of the 20th century the notion of the ‘Big Men’ was still considered to be part of a neo-patrimonial system, in which ‘disorder’ was qualified as ‘political instrument’. Patrick Chabal and Jean-Pascal Daloz maintain in their provoking book ‘Africa Works’ that the “ultimate ambition of those who have power is most often to establish their standing as Big Men. Such standing is, by its very nature, subjective and can only be achieved within a context of personalized relations where clients, or dependants, will ensure its recognition. It is not, therefore, sufficient to be acknowledged as the supreme political ruler. It is also necessary to be recognized as the primus inter pares among all Big Men.”

African rulers, according to the dominant perception up until the early 1990s, do not vacate their office alive. The 1990 presidential address to the African Studies Association of the U.K., delivered by A.H. Kirk-Greene and published in ‘African Affairs’ (no. 359, 1991) presented some striking arithmetic to illustrate the point. By then, the mean duration in power of leadership in 17 African states (a third of the continent) was 25 years. The ‘for life’ image associated with African rulers contrasted however with the brevity of the rule of others, with no fewer than twenty in office for less than a year. At the end of 1988 the continental average duration of office for the 158 African leaders recorded as head of government in 50 states since 1960 was calculated at 3.1 years. But the assumption pertained that the shorter periods in office were attributed almost exclusively to the incumbents’ departure from this world. A.H. Kirk-Greene therefore concluded: “If my question of ‘What Happened to the President Afterwards’? has been overlooked in the literature, this may largely be due to the indisputable fact that, unless one is talking of a meta-physical after-life, in nine cases out of ten it is a rhetorical question; there was no Afterwards.”

But soon thereafter, this notion was challenged on the basis of the empirical reality. Instead, it was suggested that the question requires rephrasing, since the (former) heads of state were not as passive as the ‘what happened to’ formulation implied. The more apposite question for many may be ‘What did the President do Afterwards?’ rather than what happened to him. Indeed quite a number of them – in contrast to the widely held perception – did have a life after their term(s) in office. As a presentation by J.H. Polhemus to the 15th annual conference of the African Studies Association of Australia and the Pacific in 1992 concluded: “…a substantial number of individuals, … notwithstanding a wide variation in style, personality and psychology, had the unusual qualities required to become a head of state or government and … on leaving office, faced the questions of what to do with what remained of a life which had to that point been characterized by power, purpose, and not to put too fine a point on it, position and privilege.”

The recent shift in trends in presidential transitions on the continent is highlighted by the increasing number of those who more or less voluntarily hand over presidential powers while still being in rather good physical shape and mental health. A recently compiled overview for the book volume on ‘Presidential Transitions and the Role of Ex-Presidents’ (to be published by the Human Sciences Research Council in South Africa before the end of 2005), registered a total of 204 African presidents in office between 1960 and 2004. More than half of them were overthrown, which confirms the earlier assumptions. Only 25 cases (or 12%) were classified as voluntary retirements. But significantly so, 17 (or three quarters) of these took place since 1990 alone, and since 2000 there were eight such cases, amounting in the last five years to one third of all voluntary departures from office in the 45-year period recorded.

In the light of such an emerging new trend, the question posed by Polhemus in his 1992 paper remains more valid than ever. He asked whether an increasing number of “African heads of state will follow the eminent person path upon their retirement from political office, rising above narrow national politics.” As he suggested: “For some it would seem to be an attractive way of putting their talents to good use and minimizing the pangs of withdrawal from a life of prominence and importance.”

The birth of an African Statesmen Initiative, launched in Mali’s capital Bamako in the presence of 15 former heads of state in June 2005, is an almost logical result of the needs to (re-)define the role of ex-presidents. With the support of several international institutions the elder statesmen (indeed still all men) agreed on a remarkable document with far reaching statements in terms of their political ideals. The ‘Bamako Declaration of the African Statesmen Initiative’ adopted on 8 June stated among others:

“We believe that democracy is the sole form of government that permits the development of the range of national institutions needed to ensure sustainable peace, security, economic growth and social well-being. We applaud the spread of democratic values and respect for the rights of citizens in a growing number of African countries. We commit ourselves to continuing to use our good offices to foster dialogue and the peaceful resolution of the continent's conflicts, and to promote human security and democratic models of government that offer citizens the opportunity to choose their leaders freely and participate fully in the political life of their countries.”

The document went further to say:

- “We welcome the future participation of outgoing heads of state and government in efforts to promote democratic principles, good governance, and human security and development through individual and collective action.”

- “We affirm that changes of power and political succession should always be based on constitutional rule and democratic principles.”

- “We affirm the special responsibility of former heads of state and government to support the development of strong, well functioning legislative and judicial bodies, as well as other public institutions to ensure public accountability.”

These are clearly new tones, though one is curious to see how big or small the discrepancy between rhetoric and reality this time turns out to be. The Organisation of African Unity (OAU) was often referred to as little more than a self-serving club for African presidents. Its existence was premised upon the mutual convenience of ‘non-interference in the affairs of sovereign states’, a doctrine that provided cover for authoritarian and despotic regimes throughout the continent.

In contrast, the launch of the African Union (AU) in 2002/2003 resulted in the subsequent institutionalisation of a visible (though not yet always consequently applied) political will to exercise more collective responsibility over the policy of member states, whose systems and their (lack of) delivery fail to respect the minimum standards as defined in the new AU Constitution. This includes sanctions against those who claim to represent their countries without a minimum of legitimacy. It is an indication that the present generation of African leaders – one which is more subject to pressures for democracy at home and for ‘good governance’ internationally – will be more prepared to police regimes which offend against international norms, rights and laws.

This also offers, as the African Statesmen Initiative signals, a more constructive role for retired presidents to make a continued positive contribution on the continent, including an active participation in conflict mediation and other forms of political negotiations and diplomatic brokerage. They might also pursue a variety of advocacy roles on other burning issues, such as further awareness creation concerning HIV/AIDS or lobby work to mobilize for meeting other challenges on the continent to achieve a more decent living and secure a better future for its people.

But notwithstanding the odd light at the end of the tunnel, progress is uneven. While recent interventions concerning political leadership issues in Togo and the Ivory Coast show the political will to collectively pursue the notion of ‘good governance’ in certain cases, the continued passivity with regard to Zimbabwe and the rampaging dictator Mugabe remains a scandal.

In Botswana, Ken Good, a Professor of Political Studies at the local university for 15 years, presented in March 2005 to a departmental seminar a critical analysis of the presidential succession in the country (drafted as a chapter to the book currently in print). He was served with an arbitrary notice from the authorities declaring him a prohibited immigrant on the grounds of being considered a risk to national security. Upon intervention and appeal, the Constitutional Court ruled that the President has the power vested in his office to do so without offering any further reasons. After this verdict, the 72-year old was handcuffed in court, prevented from talking to his lawyer and deported the very same day. He was denied the chance to say good-bye to his teenage daughter.

Only two weeks later, on 13 June 2005, five African Presidents met their fellow Head of State George W. Bush in Washington, DC. The US President welcomed the same Festus Mogae of Botswana, who had just abused his presidential authority to get rid of an unwanted academic, together with John Kufuor (Ghana), Armando Guebuza (Mozambique), Namibia’s President Hifikepunye Pohamba and Mamadou Tandja of Niger to the White House. According to the official announcement, this initiative was to “highlight the value that the United States places on supporting democracy across Africa. President Bush looks forward to recognize these countries’ successes at holding free and fair elections last year”.

The question still begs to be answered of whether this illustrates progress in democratic transition on the one side (of the invited guests), or a lack of democratic sensitivity on the side of the host. As so often, the answer might lie somewhere in between, if one considers the way elections were conducted not too long ago in the North American federal states of Florida and Ohio, which were to a large extent decisive in the ‘democratic’ process to a) bring the current president into office, and b) to keep him there. After all, political office bearers all over the world tend to be not as different or remote from each other as the geographical distance might suggest.

* Dr. Henning Melber is Research Director at The Nordic Africa Institute in Uppsala/Sweden. This essay is a revised part of an introduction to a book volume on Presidential Transitions and the Role of Ex-Presidents in Africa, co-edited with Roger Southall and to be published by the Human Sciences Research Council in South Africa.

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Human rights organisations have documented a global crackdown on civil liberties since the war on terror began, as governments implement legislation related to the monitoring of citizens, powers of arrest and detention without trial. The age-old battle between repression and freedom is nothing new, write Tristen Taylor and Simon Delaney, and nowhere is this tension more apparent than in the fundamental right to protest. In South Africa, a much-hailed constitution should guarantee that right, but in reality a complex web of laws govern who can gather where and when. What is usually overlooked, they argue, is that either individuals have the right to assembly because it is an intrinsic human right or because it has been granted to them. If it is the later then its time to be afraid…

Protest is at the heart of working for change; nothing disturbs the great and powerful like people on the streets. Marches bring forth visions of another storming of the Bastille or the Rose Revolution redux. Nerves are stretched as tens of thousands move with one voice against a government, corporation or even an individual. When people gather and demonstrate, they are tapping into the awesome potential of ordinary people working together; they are no longer divided and atomised.

Hardly surprising then that governments, throughout recorded history, have sought to limit the ability of people to gather; to restrict the right to assembly; to deny the freedom to congregate. In the unrelenting war between repression and freedom - a conflict that has been going on at least since “freedom” was inscribed - kings, queens, dictators, presidents and other assorted overlords have used all means possible, legal or otherwise, to prevent the people from mobilising, and especially in public. And for good reason.

One thousand potential revolutionaries sitting in their homes, isolated and separated from potential comrades, are (and cannot be more than) bitter individuals with nothing to do besides rage in utter impotence at the TV, radio or newspaper. One thousand activists chanting as they run towards the guarded gates of political and economic power are not only a problem, they could be the beginnings of major change and the end of privilege for the few. At minimum, some bureaucrat's day will be ruined.

Across the globe, demonstrations are being banned, limited, and herded into “free speech” cages. Demonstrators are being greeted with batons, rubber bullets, arbitrary detention, water cannons, tear gas, cavalry charges, tanks, live ammunition, and man's best friend mentally and physically tortured into hate with fangs and fur.

But not in South Africa. South Africa has a constitution that protects the rights of its citizens. We are enlightened and progressive. Right?

The South African Constitution states, in the Bill of Rights (Chapter 2, Section 17), that “Everyone has the right, peacefully and unarmed, to assemble, to demonstrate, to picket and to present petitions.” The supreme law of the land, what is supposed to be an expression of the most fundamental rights a human being can have, says that you (and all your friends) can get together and protest against (or for), well, just about anything, as long as you're not carrying an AK or stomping on other human beings.

Yet, affirming (or granting, depending on your point of view) a right to assembly is not the same as enabling or allowing individuals to exercise that right. In other words, there's more to the story than a constitution. For example, Article 125 of the Constitution of the USSR states:

“In conformity with the interests of the working people, and in order to strengthen the socialist system, the citizens of the U.S.S.R. are guaranteed by law: a) freedom of speech; b) freedom of the press; c) freedom of assembly, including the holding of mass meetings; d) freedom of street processions and demonstrations.”

And, further to that, it addresses (also in Article 125) the practical difficulties in the exercise of these rights:

“These civil rights are ensured by placing at the disposal of the working people and their organizations printing presses, stocks of paper, public buildings, the streets, communications facilities and other material requisites for the exercise of these rights.”

The irony is as bitter as regret. Under Uncle Joe's leadership, saying or writing what you wanted was apt to get you sent to Kolyma and a cold, hungry death. As for demonstrating against the Soviet Government, nine grams to the back of the head.

South Africa, to point out the obvious, is not the USSR under Stalin. However, the example of the USSR shows there can be a major and fundamental discord between a state's promises and its actions.

While dissent in South Africa isn't rewarded with ten years in a gulag, the Constitution is not matched by what is in South Africa's law on gatherings. How, where, when and why individuals gather is limited and defined, both in theory and practice, by the Regulation of Gatherings Act (RGA) No. 205 of 1993 (commenced 1996). This act defines the shape, size and location of protests. For example, if sixteen (or more) individuals want to protest at the same location they have to receive permission from the police; if they don't, the demonstration is unlawful. Under fifteen, no permission is needed, unless, of course, the protesters want to demonstrate within 100 metres of a court building, or near the Union Buildings or parliament; permission is needed to approach your elected representatives. Wear a mask (for example, dress up as a clown or Father Christmas) and you are liable to be arrested for contravening the Gatherings Act or the Prohibition of Disguises Act No. 16 of 1969.

As for demonstrating on private property (in a shopping mall, for example), that requires the owner's permission (the Trespass Act of 1959 supersedes the RGA). So, for example, demonstrating against a company that's located in mall is a hard task. Most owners will order demonstrators to leave, refusal to do so is grounds for arrest (trespassing). South Africans have the right to protest, but not on private property, not within 100 metres of a court building, not where the President lives, not if it disrupts traffic, and definitely not in a clown suit.

The right to demonstrate is, at best, a qualified right.

A close look at the responses from the Johannesburg Metropolitan Police Department (JMPD) to notices that social justice movements have filed of gatherings that they intend to hold, shows a number of violations of the RGA with regard to processes followed by the JMPD after receiving notification of a gathering. This is evidence that there is a discord between the theory (the Constitution) and the State's actions.

Some of these relate to the JMPD's abuse of Section 3 (2) of the RGA, which states, "The convenor shall not later than seven days before the date on which the gathering is to be held, give notice of the gathering to the responsible officer concerned: Provided that if it is not reasonably possible for the convenor to give such notice earlier than seven days before such date, he shall give such notice at the earliest opportunity: Provided further that if such notice is given less than 48 hours before the commencement of the gathering, the responsible officer may by notice to the convenor prohibit the gathering." Records show that this section is used to refuse any gatherings that do not comply with the seven day notice period, without due consideration being given to possible reasons for late notification (Prishani Naidoo, Establishing A Historical Record Of Violations Of The Regulation Of Gatherings Act & The Right To Freedom Of Assembly Amongst Social Movements in Johannesburg, unpublished draft, 2005).

The power to issue blanket prohibitions on demonstrations that meet the 48 hours notice leaves officials with unbridled discretion. Such discretion is regularly abused in the service of the State’s alleged interest in maintaining order, or more perversely, in silencing the political views of marginal groups. Unbridled official discretion is generally viewed as an unjustifiable impairment of the right to assemble.

The RGA thwarts many a convener who, in fact, complies with the seven-day notice period. Despite the provision of notice by many conveners ten days in advance of a demonstration, a number of provisions in the RGA have had the unintended consequence of aiding and abetting the authorities desire to prohibit protests. In short, responsible officers can comply timeously - if not substantively - with response, meeting and prohibition requirements and still not give the conveners sufficient time to have a banning order reviewed in the Magistrates Court or in High Court prior to the appointed date for the demonstration. The courts have found that the applications for review do not meet the standards for urgency set out in the rules of court. Failure to satisfy this standard means that judicial review cannot take place before the scheduled demonstration (Stuart Woolman, Constitutional Law in South Africa, in Chaskalson, M. et al, unpublished draft, 2000).

In addition, JMPD officials often do not comply with the RGA's stipulation that it should respond to a notification within 24 hours of receiving it if JMPD intends to hold a meeting about the gathering or to seek to prohibit it. Section 4 (3) states "If a convenor has been notified in terms of subsection (2) (a) or has not, within 24 hours after giving notice in terms of section 3 (2), been called to a meeting …, the gathering may take place in accordance with the contents of the notice …"

Records from both the JMPD and social justice movements show the violation of the RGA through the response to notices well after 24 hours. Often this works in conjunction with the seven-day notice period required of movements against the right of movements to seek the intervention of a magistrate to overturn the prohibition of a gathering. If the JMPD responds after the 24-hour period with the request to meet with a movement and then proceeds to prohibit a gathering, it may be impossible for a movement to apply to a magistrate within the necessary time period to get permission for a march to proceed on the intended day. However, with responses beyond this 24-hour response period, the possibility for overturning a prohibition timeously by following all legal routes is reduced.

Section 5 of the RGA states, "(1)When credible information on oath is brought to the attention of a responsible officer that there is a threat that a proposed gathering will result in serious disruption of vehicular or pedestrian traffic, injury to participants in the gathering or other persons, or extensive damage to property, and that the Police and the traffic officers in question will not be able to contain this threat, he shall forthwith meet or, if time does not allow it, consult with the convenor and the authorized member … in order to consider the prohibition of the gathering."

There are a number of suggestions in the evidence outlined below that the JMPD has been in violation of this section. Firstly, there is a lack of any significant records of "credible information on oath" preceding the calling of such meetings. In the two cases where there are such records, it would appear that the information on oath has been forthcoming after the meeting in order to prohibit the gathering. Secondly, it would seem that the meetings have become common practice in attempting to prevent gatherings from taking place rather than being spaces in which the authorities should be trying to facilitate the peaceful occurrence of the gathering in question. The prohibition letters following several of these meetings verify this as they contain the same language and represent no attempt on the part of the JMPD to assist the convenors in facilitating the gathering. This would also suggest that the meetings do not take place in "good faith" as the RGA prescribes.

The actual prohibition letters from the JMPD also constitute several violations of the RGA, through their identification of the potential adverse effects a gathering may have on traffic and their allegations of past indiscretions by people associated with the convening group as reasons for prohibition. According to Stuart Woolman, "These pro forma banning orders violate the RGA in three discrete ways. First, The RGA's 4(4)(b), actually acknowledges that gatherings will, inevitably, disrupt traffic and contemplates an agreement between the responsible officer, the convenor and the police that will ensure that 'vehicular or pedestrian traffic, especially during traffic rush hours, is least impeded'. Second, reasonable suspicion 'of lawlessness and damage to property' - the language used in these pro forma prohibitions - is not the standard set out in the RGA for the prohibition of a gathering. RGA's 5(1), demands 'credible information on oath…brought to the attention of a responsible officer.' Third, the orders fail to recognize that the time, place and manner of an assembly are often its most essential features. The disdain shown for these critical elements of an assembly constitutes a violation of RGA's 2(d)'s requirement that the responsible officer ensure that all discussions demonstrate the state's willingness to negotiate in 'good faith'." (Stuart Woolman, ibid)

There is also some evidence of the JMPD's violations of the RGA during gatherings through the fixing of the times that marches are permitted to last, intimidation by police, arbitrary arrests, and so on.

Local authorities such as the JMPD appear to discriminate between social movements based upon the content or viewpoint of the protest. Protests that challenge the status quo on land redistribution are generally prohibited. Protests mounted by members of the tripartite alliance – say COSATU – with respect to fair labour practices are generally allowed to go ahead. Prohibitions or restrictions based upon the viewpoint of the protester are patent and unjustifiable violations of the right to assemble.

Furthermore, the police are often ignorant of the RGA. Some policemen and women (especially those from stations and not specialised public order details like JMPD) are not versed in the RGA - inspectors, in the middle of protests, have been known to stare at copies of the RGA with puzzlement and fear - and will often react to demonstrations as if it were the 1980s and Riotous Assemblies hadn't been substantially repealed.

In amongst the legal talk, filing of notices, and meetings with police, what is usually overlooked is the most fundamental issue of all. Either individuals have the right to assembly because it is an intrinsic human right (they have it in virtue of being human) or individuals have a right to assembly because it has been granted to them (by the state, for example). If it is the former, then human beings can get together, without restriction, just because they are human. This is inalienable, and not for debate. Private property, it could be argued, is not an intrinsic right (just because human beings are human, they do not have the right to own land, which could equally be seen to be the property of all or even none), and thus private property cannot be used to restrict the right to assembly, as only other intrinsic rights can have a moral bearing on an intrinsic right.

However, the law sees it being the latter case. The law grants the right (and the conditions thereof) and the agents of the law permit (or not) that right. If this interpretation is valid, then be afraid, for he who giveth can also taketh away.

* Tristen Taylor is the Apartheid Debt and Reparations Campaign Coordinator at Jubilee South Africa. Simon Delaney is a lawyer at the Freedom of Expression Institute. He is a specialist in the Regulation of Gatherings Act.

* Please send comments to

Violent clashes have resulted in at least one hundred deaths in Sudan’s capital Khartoum, following news that the head of the Sudan People’s Liberation Army and newly appointed vice president of the country John Garang had died in a helicopter crash. Who was John Garang? Would a fledgling peace process that ended one of Africa’s longest wars survive his death? And what does his death mean for the crisis in Darfur. Abdelbagi Jibril provides some answers.

Dr. John Garang de Mabior was born on 23rd June 1945 into a poor family in Wagkulei village, near Bor in the Upper Nile region of South Sudan. He belongs to the Dinka tribe, which is the largest ethnic group in the Sudan that accounts for about 12 per cent of the country’s entire population. He died on Saturday 30th July 2005 barely three weeks after he was sworn into office as the President of Southern Sudan and as the first-ever Southern Sudanese First Vice-President of the Republic of Sudan.

Garang was a nationalist statesman, visionary son of Africa and a man of special qualities and talents. His legacy will be a radical change in Sudan’s political structure and power relations, whether the people of his home region decide to remain part of a unified country or choose to go their own way and create a new African flag and nation when they exercise their right to self-determination in 2011. Garang’s name will be imprinted on Sudan’s and Africa’s collective memory as one of the country’s greatest politicians and social justice campaigners, only comparable to - if not superseding - Imam Mohammed Ahmed Al Mahadi, who unified Sudan and liberated its people from Turko-Egyptian colonial rule and established the Mahadist State in the 1880s as one of the first modern states on the continent ruled by Africans themselves.

Garang lived a life of revolt and rebellion against injustice and marginalization. During his early adulthood in the 1960s he joined the first Southern guerrilla movement known as the Anyanya One, which was led by General Joseph Lago. After the Addis Ababa Accord that granted Southern Sudan wide regional autonomy on internal matters and ended the first civil war in the South in 1972, Garang joined the Sudanese military as a junior officer. He soon climbed the military ladder to the rank of Colonel. He was a successful army officer and established an academic record which was crowned with a PHD degree in agricultural economics from Iowa State University (USA).

In May 1983 Garang defected from the Sudanese army, established the Sudan People’s Liberation Army and Movement (SPLA/M) and started the second civil war in Southern Sudan, which became one of the longest lasting and deadliest wars of the later 20th century. Garang’s decision to establish the SPLA/M was a reaction to the attempts of the then military ruler of Sudan Marshal Gaffar Nimeri to abrogate the Addis Ababa Accord. It is estimated that at least 2.5 million civilians perished in this war either because of fighting or as a result of war-induced famine and disease. As such the death toll in this war was one of the highest of any other war since WW II. It is also estimated that more than four million were forced to flee their homes in Southern Sudan and settle in other parts of the country or cross international borders as refugees. The SPLA/M can accurately be described as a continuation of the Anyanya Movement that instigated the first civil war in Southern Sudan from 1955 to 1972. However, the SPLA/M has added a new dimension to the North-South conflict in the country by espousing a nationalist vision that called for a new and democratic Sudan where all its citizens were accorded equal treatment without discrimination. The SPLA/M was opposed to religious and cultural domination of the country by elites of the north and called for a new Sudan free from the ills and social injustices inherited from its history and replete with the legacy of slavery and exploitation.

Garang was a pan-Africanist, charismatic, independent-minded and a well-informed leader. He successfully led a guerrilla movement for more than 20 years since May 1983 and survived numerous moments of serious trouble including threats to his life, challenges to his leadership and secessionist elements within the SPLA/M. Some of his strong points were his pragmatism, independent mind, unshakeable conviction about the unity of the country and relentless resistance to attempts to transform Sudan into a Muslim and Arab-centric state. His resilience conferred on him the respect of his enemies and political opponents in Sudan and the confidence of regional and international observers.

Garang’s untimely death will have serious repercussions for the political future of the country. He was able to resolve serious difficulties within his movement and reconcile diverse, often antagonistic, viewpoints and personalities. This placed him in a unique position of strength and enabled him to reach a well-calculated agreement with the government of Sudan. He played a role in earning regional and international support for the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) that was signed by the SPLA/M and the government of Sudan in Nairobi on 9th January 2005.

The CPA is a complicated agreement that includes many technical details and it has been said that the Satan always hides in the details. It is clear that full compliance with the provisions of the CPA may not be possible under certain circumstances depending on the political dynamics in the country. Other things like the lack of political will or resistance from elements within the two parties could also complicate things. Here inventive imagination is required to find a way out of such possible hurdles.

It seems that practical difficulties in implementing the CPA started immediately after the arrival of Garang in Khartoum on 9th July 2005. It was reported that heavily armed SPLA/M troops bound for Khartoum from eastern Sudan were stopped by the national army about 1000 km from the city and were not allowed to continue. These troops were supposed to create a joint protection force, with an equal number to be provided by the government. To the great surprise of many observers, this important incident has not developed into a major crisis between the two parties.

The announcement of the death of Garang was followed by sporadic violent clashes that especially targeted people from northern Sudan in the major cities of the country such as Khartoum, Juba, Wau, Bor and Port Sudan. In Khartoum alone it was reported that more than 100 individuals were killed on Monday and thousands of private vehicles were destroyed and shops vandalized. It was also reported that several people from Southern Sudan were killed in Khartoum on Tuesday 2nd August in what seems to be retaliation for the killing of Northerners on Monday. While this feverish reaction was a manifestation of the peoples’ love for Garang - reminiscent of the millions of peace-loving Sudanese people who gathered to greet him upon his arrival in Khartoum on 9th July 2005 - it was also a manifestation of their distrust for the government of Sudan and suspicion that Garang was deliberately assassinated. In the death of Garang, millions of Sudanese have seen the vanishing of their great hope for peace and radical change for a better life in the country.

The demise of Garang has put the implementation of the CPA in peril. There are two options at present: Either the new SPLA/M leadership go ahead and implement the agreement in good faith or they choose to abandon it, which will mean the outbreak of a new war. Judging from media pronouncements made by top SPLA/M leaders as well as the heavy pressure from regional and international powers on the two parties to honour their commitments, the possibility of implementation in good faith is more likely at present. The SPLA/M will gain tremendously from implementation of the agreement. First and foremost is the unprecedented guarantee that the people of Southern Sudan are entitled to exercise the right to self-determination and decide their own fate.

The new SPLA/M leadership is also aware that they were able to achieve through negotiations in two years what they failed to achieve in twenty years of fierce fighting. However, the agreement will inevitably be frozen or collapse altogether if it is proved that Garang’s helicopter crashed because of military attack or sabotage directly or indirectly designed by the government of Sudan, or caused by the Ugandan rebel Lord’s Resistance Army or Garang’s military rivals in the region. The later could instigate an all-round conflict in the South involving government-supported local militia groups which are currently mushrooming in the region, such as the South Sudan Defence Force led by General Faulino Matieb and others. Perhaps the most dangerous scenario after the death of Garang could be a serious split within the SPLA/M ranks that would bring an end to the CPA and embroil the whole region in total collapse and devastation.

The untimely death of Garang is problematic both to the government of Sudan and the SPLA/M. It is especially problematic for people in other trouble spots of Sudan, especially the rebel forces in Darfur and Eastern Sudan who considered him as their mentor and natural ally. He expressed his personal commitment to use his status as First Vice-President of Sudan and help efforts to resolve the crisis in Darfur and other parts of Sudan. The new SPLA/M leadership is aware of the strategic dangers that the conflicts in Darfur and Eastern Sudan pose to successful implementation of the CPA and also for maintaining and preserving peace and security in the South and Sudan in general, yet it is unclear whether they are prepared to assume Garang’s expected role in resolving the crisis in Darfur and Eastern Sudan. The challenge before the government of Sudan and the SPLA/M is that they need to implement the CPA in letter and spirit in the absence of Garang. They need to move fast in order to fill the vacuum created by his death and assure the people of the South and Sudan as a whole about their seriousness to pursue the search for peace and unity with the same vigour and enthusiasm that characterised the late hero.

* Abdelbagi A. M. Jibril is the Executive Director, Darfur Relief and Documentation Centre. He is a Sudanese national currently working as an NGO Expert based in Geneva (Switzerland). He finished his studies at the University of Khartoum, Sudan, Faculty of Economics and Social Sciences (1986). He has extensive field knowledge of development and human rights issues in Africa and a track record within the international system as a Permanent NGO Representative to the UN Office in Geneva.

* Please send comments to [email protected]

Despite concerns over political and corporate corruption combined with failures in accountability and transparency worries, the government of Uganda seems set on bulldozing ahead with the planned Bujagali Dam, write Muramuzi Frank and F.C. Oweyegha-Afunaduula. The dam would destroy the Bujagali Falls on the Nile and affect the livelihoods of about 6,800 people.

The Bujagali Dam project, which was proposed in the late 1990s, is one of the most controversial dam projects in the world, and according to the Uganda government is set to continue. The government in April this year announced that it had selected the Aga Khan’s Industrial Promotion Services (IPS) to build the Dam at Dumbbell Island 8 km from the Owen Falls Dam downstream of the river Nile.

According to government, it is “electricity loadshedding” which is driving it (government) to have this dam built as soon as possible, ostensibly to solve the problem. Therefore, this means that it is not the development effectiveness of the project that is driving the process. However, it is now well known that Bujagali Dam is not the least-cost option of the several dams that were proposed in Uganda’s Energy Master Plan ten years ago because it does not seriously factor in costs due to losses in tourism, environmental quality, culture and spirituality as well as socio-economic and socio-political stability. Moreover, it has been established that the cost of Bujagali Dam was skewed to make it appear as if it is twice as cheap as Karuma Dam further downstream of the Nile. Karuma in fact is cheaper and, if built, will not be environmentally, socially and culturally destructive. Even in terms of tourism, there will be virtually no destruction because the dam will not affect the Falls. Further the Karuma dam’s electricity will be cheaper.

Despite government determination to continue with the discredited Bujagali Dam project, many issues remain unresolved. Even the World Bank’s own transparency and accountability watchdogs, the International Finance Corporations (IFCs) Ombudsman and the Inspection Panel found in 2001 and 2002 respectively that the issues involved were critical and required attention. They recommended that if the project were to have development effectiveness, they should not be ignored. The issues of concern remain at the core of civil society action on the Bujagali dam. Unfortunately, they are being ignored and have been loosely explained away by Uganda’s Ministry of Energy in its March 22nd 2005 response to outstanding Bujagali environmental issues raised by National Association of Professional Environmentalists (NAPE) on February 28th 2005.

The issues, which Ugandans have repeatedly and increasingly raised, include the following:
- The political and corporate corruption in the dam process;
- The opportunity cost of Bujagali Falls based tourism;
- Resettlement and compensation related issues;
- Under-valuing of spiritual and cultural wealth of the Bujagali Falls;
- The Government’s failure to show that the price of electricity from the proposed Bujagali Dam will be affordable by the majority of Ugandans;
- The fluctuating cost of the building of Bujagali Dam, which a 2002 study by Prayas of India found to be too costly and not conforming to international standards in the dam construction industry;
- Ignoring the cumulative impacts of Kiira Dam, Nalubaale Dam and the proposed Bujagali Dam, which are close to each other;
- Ignoring comprehensive assessment of the available energy alternatives;
- Falling water levels in Lake Victoria, which unfortunately government has variously blamed on drought - ignoring the real possibility that the reason could be the construction of two dams parallel to each other and drawing water from the same source point;
- Deliberate exclusion of accountability and transparency from the Bujagali Dam process.

The World Bank’s private investment arm, the IFC, was to be the major lender for the project, but pulled out after AES withdrew in August 2003 due to the unresolved controversies surrounding the project. The Bank has not indicated whether or not it will get involved this time. Since the World Bank backed off from the project in 2002, the Ugandan government has proposed various funding mechanisms, from an infrastructure development bond to raiding the National Social Security Fund (NSSF) to pay for the dam. NSSF is a fund to which the country’s workers contribute monthly towards their social security after they have retired from active service.

It is now clear that if government is bent on pursuing the project, the already overtaxed citizens will have to shoulder the cost of the dam as this year’s national budget further vividly suggests. However, the recent debt relief extended to the poorest of the poor countries of Africa of which Uganda is one, might as well be another source of badly needed funds for this dam burden. Yet debt relief indicates that Uganda cannot sustain its economy nor bear the burden of further debt. The wise thing to do with the debt relief is to use the money, which would have been used for debt repayment, to provide social services and security to the citizens’ health and education.

Unfortunately civil society’s views continue to be dismissed by government as encumbrances to industrialization, poverty eradication, economic growth and availability of electricity. NAPE and others who have been raising these issues are not anti-hydropower or against development but work for sustainable development in Uganda’s energy sector, evaluation of technologies and the pursuit of the best energy option for Uganda.

* Muramuzi Fran is Executive Director of the National Association of Professional Environmentalists (NAPE); F.C. Oweyegha-Afunaduula is Coordinator of the Save Bujagali Crusade.

* Please send comments to [email protected]

Rafael Marques remembers three encounters during his journeying through Angola. The first sketch tells the story of Pedro, who uses his truck to take pregnant women on a four-hour, pot-holed journey to the nearest maternity hospital. In the second sketch, Almeida makes it big as a diamond digger but blows his fortune on the pleasures of life. Lastly, a train-track market in Viana, Luanda is described. “Angolans,” writes Marques, “continue to wait for something to happen. People are struggling for immediate survival, without the luxury of medium or long-term perspectives.”

Inspired perhaps, by having survived war and misery, Pedro cheerfully shared his story on how his truck had turned into a maternity hospital on wheels.

I met Pedro by the roadside, between the municipality of Cacula and Lubango, the capital of the southern Angolan province of Huíla. I was touring the south of the country by car. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere, in the evening, with his car broken down, and so I gave him a ride.

The road seemed like a long net of small and huge potholes – so awful that it took more than four hours to drive the 60 km between the two towns.

Along the way, Pedro told me a lively story about the state of the road. As the only fellow with a car in his community, for years now he has been taking pregnant women to the Lubango Hospital to give birth. He said no woman has yet made it to the hospital. All have ended up giving birth in his car due to the tortuous journey, and without a single fatality.

“It eases the burden on the maternity hospital”, he said.

On another car journey, to the east of the country, I came across Almeida Gonçalves, a young man who worked as an informal diamond digger. A single lucky stone had earned him US$250,000. I asked him how he spent his money. He shrugged his shoulders and said: “I had to spend everything on clothes, food and drinks. I did not know how to spend it on other things.”

All he had left was a motorbike – until that was confiscated by the police in an act of extortion. Yet his eyes still light up when he imagines he might strike it lucky once again.

In other circumstance, Almeida Gonçalves might well be an Angolan government minister – provided he could upgrade his tastes from motorbikes to top luxury cars. As a minister, he would be entrusted with the mission of depositing, in his personal bank accounts, incalculable amounts of state funds, as it is a common government practice.

As for Pedro, he might fare well as a provincial governor. He has the virtue of finding advantages in total chaos, in the absence of management. The former governor of Kwanza-Norte province Manuel Pedro Pacavira managed to do the same; after more than a decade of misrule, he has been rewarded with la dolce vita as ambassador to Italy.

The train of indifference

The third and last example in my sketch of Angola as it is today has to do with the informal market set on the railway tracks in Viana, Luanda. The train passes through, whistling. People, unconcerned and in no rush, remove themselves and their goods from the tracks, just enough to make space for the locomotive to get past. As the train moves on, people reclaim their places on the tracks just inches behind it, and set their businesses once again. At times one can see the rusty train in the middle of the market. Once it has passed through, it is as though the train had never used those tracks.

Angolans continue to wait for something to happen. People are struggling for immediate survival, without the luxury of medium or long-term perspectives. There is no leadership to show a different way out, to share his or her vision of the future.

Notwithstanding three years of peace, society has simply given up the quest for common ground. Each person has become an island in search of individual peace and stability. To do so, one has to pledge allegiance to the families who control the chaos that we call the state.

The social and civic dynamics of 2001-2003, which seemed to have the potential to build common interests and ensure the fair participation of all sectors in bringing about changes, have crumbled.

Nowadays, war is no longer an argument to excuse people’s inertia. By the same token, the regime’s repression is also not a justification for inaction.

During the most violent and difficult years of our history, several names and values emerged out of the struggle for independence, for peace, for freedom of the press and of expression.

Repression has been replaced by corruption, by evil laughter at someone else's suffering, as the source of the real personal power in our society. Such a notion of power mirrors our own lack of purpose.

The regime, stretched in two directions between the ruling MPLA and its leader, José Eduardo dos Santos, has exhausted its ability to reinvent itself and to do better for the country. It has become a family feud that sustains itself on the apathy of the society at large. It survives by swallowing up the opposition. The regime also enjoys comfort in the belief it has secured itself through means of patronage rather than by its own merit or civic and political achievements.

For some time now, President dos Santos has been a little more than a chess player who entertains himself. He plays against himself. When it comes to addressing social problems, he has notoriously little authority over the executive that he supposedly leads.

Meanwhile, his prime minister, Nandó, may as well not exist, except when he becomes the laughing stock of the independent media for his gaffes, and for the regular public beatings that his sons inflict upon defenseless citizens.

I see peace and the opportunity for a serious and transparent democratization process in just the same way as I see the train making its way through the market. I note:

- The absence of social solidarity in the struggle for the common good and people’s indifference to the anomalies of the State;
- The collapse of forces such as opposition and organized civil society that ought to stand between the people and the regime;
- The stagnation and even backward movement in the development of the independent media outlets, which ought to be instrumental in the setting of a new culture of democracy, tolerance and transparency;
- The vast gulf between the ruling class (the plundering elite) and the proletariat and peasant classes (reclassified as simply "poor" or "the rest of society" and put at the mercy of the poverty reduction strategy programmes of the international community – World Bank, et al.)
- A political culture of postponing political and social problems to the extreme limit (e.g. civil disarmament, reducing unemployment, dealing with resource use, violence and social exclusion in the Lunda diamond fields, and the oil-rich Cabinda province, et al.)
- The potential for social upheaval, aggravated by the worsening of people’s living conditions, in times of peace. Even the alternative forms of survival such as street vending are being brutally crushed by the police.

As an Angolan, I feel defeated by my own weaknesses and limitations. I live in torment for not being able to do more for the society, for the country I love. In anguish, I seek refuge in my loneliness to digest the bitterness for a lost battle in the pursuit of human dignity in Angola.

I assume defeat. I face the reality and I prepare myself for the triumph of my own consciousness and that of the society, against the evil that inhabits in and destroys us.

Agostinho Neto once said, to Angolans, “we shall come back...”

So be it.

* Rafael Marques is an Angolan journalist.

* Please send comments to

Simply joining the throb to make poverty history will never be sufficient to banish injustice, writes Issa Shivji. Rather, in order to make poverty history, the history of poverty must be understood.

The GG8 (Geldof & Group of 8) fanfare in Gleneagles, Scotland is over. Its slogan was `Make Poverty History`. Originally this was the slogan of well-meaning NGOs and concerned young people who could not stomach the outrageous poverty of millions in the South existing side by side with the filthy wealth of a tiny minority on this planet.

The richest 225 people in the world own a combined wealth equal to the annual income of almost half the population of the earth. 1.2 billion of humanity exists in subhuman conditions at less than a dollar a day when 4 per cent of the wealth of these filthy rich 225 persons would be sufficient to pay the additional costs to achieve and maintain universal access to basic education, health care, maternity care, adequate food, safe water and sanitation for the whole human race.

The statistics are not new. They have been well known. Now even the perpetrators of the system which produces and reproduces this inhuman system quote them – of course for their own purpose.

But as these things go, the politicians of the system (euphemistically called globalisation) co-opted the slogan. The fun-idols of the well-meaning but naïve, privileged youth of the North were accommodated as the likes of Geldof were knighted by the queen and appointed to Blair’s Africa Commission to rub shoulders with the presidents of the African poor.

The point is that while it is necessary to campaign to Make Poverty History and shame the shameless classes of exploiters and oppressors and win over the uncommitted, it is not sufficient. To make poverty history, we must understand the history of poverty.

Poverty is neither our fate nor God-given. It did not and has not existed from time immemorial. It was not invented by the West either. It was created by them, who invaded our countries and imposed their system which continues to siphon off resources from the continent.

The history of the plunder and pillage of the African continent through the slave trade and colonialism; neo-colonialism and imperialism is known - although these days not taught in our schools since they have become “international” academies. If this was only history, we could have perhaps forgiven, although, not forgotten. But it is not just history. It is our present. New forms of slavery and colonialism and imperialism packaged and labelled in different forms continue unabated.

The mainstream media and politicians including our globalisation-friendly presidents and prime ministers continue to beg for forgiveness of debt and go round with a begging bowl to alleviate poverty. Yes, indeed, even preparation of Poverty Reduction Strategy Papers (PRSP) comes as a condition of aid. And as a further condition of aid we hire 1000-dollar a day consultants to help us draft those papers, all part of “aid”.

Meanwhile, we shower praises and send congratulatory messages to Mr Tony Blair for taking upon himself to chit-chat with his fellow G8’s on African poverty.

What is in there for the Blairs, Browns and Bushes of this world at this time to Brownwash (courtesy World Development Movement, WDM) African aid, debt and poverty? As I said, there are many a well-intentioned people in the North who have been campaigning to Make Poverty History. But also there are those – who are usually painted by the mainstream media with the brush of anti-this or anti-that minority “bent on violence” - who have and are going beyond it to understand the history and politics of poverty.

Martin Curtis, the head of WDM and a well-known British historian, says that the British Government has a political and an economic goal behind taking up the question of African poverty. The political goal is to maintain a big power status for Britain. “This boils down to invading a country from time to time, retaining nuclear weapons to make sure we can obliterate most of the world several times over, and professing our total support for US foreign policy.”

“The economic goal is to organise the global economy, and particular regions, so that the Middle East, southern Africa and South East Asia work in the interests of Western and British corporations.” Only ignoramuses would challenge this analysis.

The neo-liberal policies thrust upon African countries are clearly to integrate the continent further in the web of exploitative relationships and thus profit from the enormous resources of the continent. The US has now significantly moved its attention to Africa’s oil, as Middle East sources become more unstable due to the political resistance of the Arab masses which continue to simmer to a boiling point.

Britain’s interest is to develop African markets not only to dump its goods but also to sell services, the so-called invisibles. It thus firmly supports the privatisation and commoditization of water, energy, heath care, education, and land. We have had a taste of what this means for the “poor” in Tanzania.

A British secret Foreign Office file from 1968 says: “We should bend our energies to help produce a world economic climate in which our external trade, our income from invisibles and our balance of payments can prosper.”

In effect therefore it should not come as a surprise to anybody when Blair wields the carrot of aid and debt relief with one hand, while using the stick of World Bank-IMF-WTO rules and conditionality on liberalising and privatising the economy, with the other.

The Geldof-type Live Aid Bands and musical shows assuage the conscience of the wealthy inhabitants of the North while giving political legitimacy to the military interventions and political interferences of Western leaders in the lives and affairs of the African people – ninety per cent of whom have now been labelled “poor” and therefore disabled to resist and fight for their own salvation.

No need to cite another string of statistics. Just one may suffice. The 2002 Human Development Report of UNDP computes that developing countries lose more than twice in debt servicing what they get in net foreign investment, aid and grants to NGOs combined.

The Bob Geldofs of this world need to pay heed to their fellow campaigners like Martin Curtis when they say:

“We should not only be ratcheting up campaigning on individual issues. We also need to unite in a campaign to fundamentally change the system.”

Our own media and NGOs and the angry youth need to understand this message even more and not simply get subsumed in the globalisation mania in return for a few “trinkets” thrown on our NGO tables.

* © Issa Shivji. Issa Shivji is Professor of Law at the University of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

* Please send comments to

Charles Abugre sees Africa as a beautiful, welcoming and sharing person. But that person also has a wound that is still festering, has scars around its edges and is constantly poked by external factors and by the self. Abugre traces the history of this wound and the path to healing, in the process laying out a vision of what a healthy African state might look like.

Thanks to the recent incredibly successful mobilisation by the Make Poverty History (MPH) coalition, never before has Africa been so much in the public conscience in the United Kingdom. But as what? Tony Blair’s imagery of Africa is that of a scar on the conscience of the rich world. A scar is an ugly tissue left after a wound has healed or is healing. It acts as a reminder of a past painful experience. If the sight of it abhors you, look away or otherwise help to make- it-over in one form or the other to improve the aesthetic effect. There are some that feel strongly that the imagery of Africa presented through our airwaves and TV screens, and the justification that the pundits make for action under the MPH agenda is one of making-over an otherwise ugly, disturbing blemish that is also an unwelcome reminder of the past. My eight year old, who has not been back in Ghana in three years, asked me, “Dad, why are all Africans so poor and so miserable?” Her conscious has clearly been touched!

I do not suggest that the MPH’s agenda of debt cancellation, more and better aid, and trade justice is driven by make-over objectives. I believe that for the majority in the MPH coalition, it is about redressing injustice. If it is, then imagery and analysis matters.

My image of Africa is a beautiful, welcoming and sharing person bearing a gaping and bleeding wound that threatens her/his happiness and life. Africa’s wound is old (historically rooted) and still festering. There are scars around its edges suggesting partial but superficial healing. The wound is constantly poked both by external objects as well as self. As a result, it is still gashing. Stopping the bleeding is a first aid priority to protect life, before healing is possible. To heal, we must get the diagnosis right and recognise the age of the wound, how it was caused and what continues to exacerbate it.

We must help Africa to stop bleeding, first and foremost. Africa is presented as a continent with insufficient resources to feed itself, to treat itself, to exchange abroad and to pay its debt. This is true. But did you know that over the past 30 years Africa has been a net capital exporter (creditor) - transferring more capital abroad than received in aid loans and foreign direct investment? Some estimates suggest that Africa’s accumulated stock of capital transferred abroad between 1970 and 2000 amounted to over $280 billion through balance of payment financing, debt servicing, official reserves held abroad and trade mis-invoicing.

Debt, a phenomenon of the 1980s (brought about by Structural adjustment Programmes imposed by the IMF, the World Bank and rich countries) was particularly debilitating. Some estimates suggest that of every one dollar received in loans, 80 cents went right back out the same year in debt servicing. The remaining 20 cents will induce outflows equivalent to about a further 40 cents. Debt became a means of inducing capital flight and sucking out more resources than was originally provided. Further it was an instrument for making African countries implement policies prescribed my rich countries against the will of many African people.

Africa bled and continues to bleed from two further mechanisms: tax avoidance and tax competition and import penetration. A favourite policy of the aid providers over the past 20 years has been to encourage poor countries to reduce tax obligations on foreign investors. Consequently, across Africa, governments offered mining companies tax holidays ranging from 20-35 years. Ghana’s Ango-Ashanti will not pay tax for over 25 years. In addition, they are allowed to hold as much as 80% of the foreign exchange earning abroad in their own accounts, thereby denying Africans the foreign exchange earned by these companies. Sadly, much of this capital ends up in tax havens. The Tax Justice Network suggests that the stock of capital held by tax havens, a large part of which is from developing countries, exceeds 11 trillion dollars. If the returns to this capital were to be taxed at an average of 30%, they suggest that every year, this could generate well over $250 billion.

Losses from declining terms of trade have been regularly documented by UNCTAD, often amounting annually to tens of billions of dollars. What has not been estimated until recently are the losses that African countries have incurred simply by opening up their markets. Africa was made to cut down their rates of protection at a pace three times as fast as the countries of the OECD. This has left the continent too open and too dependent and with an ever declining share of international trade. Christian Aid recently calculated that over the past two decades, Africa lost in income terms and accumulated value well over $270bn from the negative growth effects of trade liberalization. This amount alone more than matches the accumulated value of grants, loans and net FDI into the continent.

To stop the bleeding, we should stop pushing African countries to reduce taxation on foreign companies, especially in the area of natural resources and financial services. We should address the issue of commodity pricing and commodity terms of trade and we should tighten the rules regulating the operation of companies to tackle trade mis-invoicing. Finally, we should stop encouraging or forcing African countries to open up their markets even further. We need to make it clear to the G8 that Africa is too open for the size and structure of its economy and probably needs to reverse the situation, especially in manufacturing and some agricultural products, to have any chance at all of recovering.

The media answer to the cause of Africa’s poverty is bad governance, by which is meant either corruption, or the lack of visionary leadership or caring leadership. All these are a part. The problem goes deeper than that. Africa has not lacked visionary leadership and Africa’s leaders have not always been corrupt. Visionary leaders became victims of cold war reprisals. Did you know that in the first 10 years of Africa’s independence 27 leaders were removed by military coups and other violent means? Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana and Patrice Lumumba of the Congo were notable visionaries. Africa did not at the time know about coups. Most were orchestrated by Western intelligence. Removing leaders by coup d’etat became implanted early in Africa’s post-colonial experience.

But the current crisis of governance is rooted not simply in corruption but the increasing irrelevance of the state to citizens. In the first 20 years of independence the relevance of the African state was clears to its citizens – build unity around a nationalist project; deliver improvement in wellbeing through investing in health, education and production. Consequently Africa experienced its greatest economic and social progress in the 1960s and 1970s before the intervention of structural adjustment. Economic growth in SSA averaged 2.4% in the 60s and 4.0% in the 70s, compared to post structural adjustment growth of 1.4% in the 1980s and 2.1% in the 1990s. The same is true in basic social services. The attempt to transform the state into a facilitator (getting the environment and prices right) rather than an interventionist has led to massive inequality, exclusion and conflict. Rapid market opening has exacerbated these contradictions by displacing basic local production.

To address governance, governments have to first be relevant to the aspirations of its poorest - which means mobilising taxes from the rich and investing them in economic and social development. It means not just building roads and ports but providing teachers, extension services, price and storage support to producers and investment and R&D to help promote science in the interest of production. Budget tracking and transparency is useful only in the context of citizens seeking to defend resources for themselves. Such a state will look completely different from what the IMF, the World Bank and DFID have in mind and might look quite similar to what it was in the 60s and 70s. At least we have lessons of China and India to go by.

This new form of state and new form of accountability cannot happen when aid agencies and powerful governments use any excuse to direct and dominate decision-making in Africa. Aid-directed governance leads to reverse (de facto) accountability where governments account to donors rather than their own citizens. That is why we should oppose conditionality, including governance conditionality. They either don’t work (according to the World Bank's evaluation department) or they dominate and over-ride domestic politics which is the same as the neo-colonialism named by Kwame Nkrumah.

* Charles Abugre is currently the head of policy and advocacy at Christian Aid. He has been a development activist in Ghana and many parts of Africa and Asia. He writes in a personal capacity.

* Please send comments to [email protected]

If someone had said to me four years ago that a new electronic newsletter on social justice in Africa would reach a readership three years later of more than 80,000 people every week, most of them in Africa, and that this could be done without forming an alliance with media magnates or multinationals, I would have told them they were insane.

And yet that is exactly what Pambazuka News has succeeded in doing. Almost without realising, Fahamu has become a publisher of news and with a constituency that not only consumes what we produce, but also actively feeds information to the newsletter on a regular basis.

How did this come about? What were the features that led to this modest success? And are there lessons for others from these experiences? Answering the first two questions is relatively straightforward. How far our experiences can be generalised for African publishers seeking to harness information and communications technologies (ICTs) is more difficult to answer: we have used publishing as a means to an end, rather than as an end in itself. And that, perhaps, provides a clue to what others might take from our experiences.

The context

Pambazuka News was the serendipitous offspring of a programme established to harness ICTs for strengthening the human rights movement in Africa. Its birth was intimately intertwined with an attempt to develop distance learning materials for civil society organisations in Africa.

In 1997, Fahamu set out to examine how developments in information and communications technologies can be harnessed to support the growth of human rights and civil society organisations in Africa. Like many others, we saw the potentials opening up with the growth in access to the internet.

Although less well developed than in the industrialised world, access to the internet has spread rapidly in Africa. In 1996 only 16 countries had access; by 1998, 49 of the 54 countries were online, with most African capitals having more than one internet service provider. By 2001, all African countries were online. According to Mike Jensen, the number of computers permanently connected to the internet extended beyond 10,000 in 1999, but this probably grossly underestimated the actual numbers, given the widespread use of .com and .net addresses.

Since the early 1990s, Africa has witnessed a flourishing of numerous organisations of civil society, including non-governmental organisations, membership organisations, professional associations, religious groups and movements. The period has also seen a significant growth in the number of organisations concerned with promoting and protecting human rights. Human rights activism is not, of course, new to Africa. It has been a feature of all democratic struggles in the region both during and since colonial times. However, it has largely been during the last decade that there has been a proliferation of self-proclaimed human rights organisations whose explicit purpose is to investigate, monitor and report on violations or abuses of human rights and to campaign, lobby and advocate for these rights. Our view was that the ability of the African human rights movement to open, maintain and expand an environment in which basic freedoms are respected will depend largely on the establishment of a critical mass of organisations that have the necessary skills both to promote and protect human rights.

Could the new technologies be harnessed to strengthen this movement?

When we first started, the idea seemed simple enough (if rather naive): given the development of the worldwide web, we should be able to produce web-based distance learning materials and establish a web-portal to bring together relevant information resources for this constituency. Human rights organisations would in this way, we thought, be able to access the material as they needed. But before we could launch such a website, we needed to know what kind of training such organisations needed.

Understanding needs

In 1998, we undertook surveys involving more than 100 human rights and civil society organisations in eastern and southern Africa. We wanted to know how such organisations used the internet, what kind of technology they had access to, what their training priorities were, and the way they managed their organisations. We were able to visit the offices of about 60per cent of the organisations interviewed, enabling us to inspect their ICT infrastructure and to test out the problems of accessing the internet.

Although most organisations had access to email, access to the web was found to be much more problematic: organisations expressed frustration with how long it took to download web pages because of low bandwidth, and irritation with the number of times they had to dial in to re-establish connections over the telephone lines. One of the biggest constraints to accessing the internet was found to be the cost of going online: the average cost of using a local dialup internet account for 20 hours a month in Africa is about $60 (including call charges). To understand the relative scale of these charges, $60 is higher than the average African monthly salary.

We found that many of these organisations had difficulties accessing training. In part, this was due to the relatively high cost of course fees. In addition, faced as they are by the day-to-day demands of activism in a frequently hostile political environment, with deteriorating economic conditions, and ever-increasing public demands on a small number of committed and experienced staff, many of these organisations have difficulties in giving priority to capacity building either within or beyond their own institutions. We found that most training undertaken by human rights and civil society organisations in the region was in the form of short workshops. In-depth training was rarely possible without long absences from work, and therefore relatively few have attended longer, residential courses. Given the fragility of many of these organisations, many said that prolonged absences of key staff threatened their viability.

Our survey confirmed the findings of previous studies on the training needs of human rights organisations in the region , . Their priorities included: skills training in fact-finding, investigation and monitoring; knowledge and application of international and regional standards and mechanisms, especially in the field of social and economic rights; strategies for human rights litigation, reporting complaints and adjudication; provision of paralegal services; campaigning and lobbying; documentation techniques and uses of documentation; monitoring of elections and trials; popular education and human rights education.

Because of the problems of access, relatively few organisations at the time had much experience in using the internet for systematic research beyond investigations using the most common search engines. Few had experience of using the internet in their advocacy work. However, most organisations did have computers with a modem, which they used mainly to collect and send emails. Most had at least one computer with a CDROM drive, with 32-64MB RAM capacity as the norm. Except in South Africa, the ratio of computers to staff was about 1:4. The operating systems that were common at the time were Windows 95 and Windows 98. Few computers had sound or video cards.

Most organisations stated that they would be interested in participating in distance learning courses, provided that they did not have to rely on the web.
Our research pointed out clearly what kind of training was required. But how could that be delivered using ICTs?

Developing interactive course materials using ICTs

Any strategy based on offering courses via the worldwide web was doomed to failure, given the difficulties of using what one wag called the 'worldwide wait'. Furthermore, any technologies we developed were going to have to be workable on what were, even then, low specification machines. If the web was not going to be practical, then we would need to develop materials that provided similar interactivity offline. Using some kind of interactive programme stored on CDROM seemed the obvious solution.

If we were to develop distance learning course materials, how would we enable interactions between course participants? How would they communicate with each other and with their course tutor if online discussion via the web were not a practical route? Given the ubiquity of email, it was clear that we would need courses organised to use that form as the principal means of communications.

We designed our courses with three phases. In the first phase (usually lasting about 10 weeks), participants are provided with carefully designed interactive CDROM that helps them to learn the subject at their own pace. They are connected to each other and to the course tutor via an email list where they discuss issues arising in the course of their studies, and where they hold asynchronous discussions on topics set by the tutor. During this phase, they are required to complete and submit via email as attachments a series of assignments. Their work is formally assessed by the course tutor.

In the second phase, those who have completed the first phase satisfactorily are invited to attend a 3-4 day workshop held at a convenient location. As a result of what participants had learned in the first phase, there should be a considerable homogeneity in the participants' knowledge and understanding of the subject. The depth to which the subject can be treated is therefore much greater than would otherwise be the case.

In the third phase of the course, participants are required to carry out a practical project, putting into practice what they have learned during the first two phases. They are mentored through this work by their course tutors. They prepare a written report on their project that is then formally assessed.

There were a number of challenges in developing appropriate learning materials. We commissioned authors to write the materials based on an agreed framework of learning objectives and outcomes. Authors were provided with guidelines on, and examples of, the range of interactive exercises and 'tricks' that they could use as part of their courses. They produced their manuscripts electronically in Word or other similar formats. The manuscripts, based as they were on extensive courses that spanned several months, were always substantial in length. The first challenge we faced was to work out how such large quantities of material could be transferred to an interactive medium that could be stored and delivered on CDROM.

After extensive research, we had decided that we would use Macromedia Director as the medium for delivering the course materials. Although this required somewhat complex programming, and although other software programmes are available for this purpose, we chose Director principally because it gave us the flexibility for producing the range of exercises and interactivity that we knew would be required. However, we were also concerned that we should not be imprisoned by the choice of software or platform: what if tomorrow the web became a practical route for delivering our course materials - would that mean we would have to start all over again? What if tomorrow we wanted to move the material on to another platform - for example, on to palmtop computers (PDAs)? How could we 'future-proof' our developments?

The route we eventually pursued was to separate the content of the learning materials from the formatting: we did this by parsing the word documents into XML. The XML was then fed into Director dynamically. This allowed us to work on the manuscript whenever we needed to, using word processing software to edit and revise the manuscripts as required. With a library of interactive exercises developed over time, it became a relatively straightforward procedure to call these up as and when required. This approach resulted in a considerable speeding up of the process of production

At the same time, we felt that any technology we used should enable us to maintain Fahamu's essential design principles: namely, strong designs which run through our publications; inspiration from African art; simplicity; usability; focus on learning/content; use of space; clean; minimal text; consistency; and ease of navigation. We applied this approach to a series of courses that we made available, in the first instance, to southern African organisations.

Pambazuka is born

But learning is more than about studying. It is also about reading, reflecting, commenting on and contributing to a discourse on issues that matter. It is about sharing experiences, and about gaining an authority of those experiences. One of the most powerful mediums for that - at least potentially -is, of course, the internet. There are numerous sources of information; there are numerous opportunities for dialogue and engaging in discussion. But what happens to a community that is unable to access these? People often speak of the 'digital divide' as if this were simply a technical divide. It is deeper than that. It is also a social division that prevents the experiences of the greater part of humanity from being heard, and which, therefore, under-nourishes the discourse of those who do have access to the technology.

If the constituency we have worked with does not have access to the web, would it not be possible to bring the web to them? Would it not be possible to provide them the means to share experiences and information with others on the internet? One of the outcomes of the initiative described above was that we began receiving requests from human rights and other civil society organisations for assistance in finding information on the web, and with disseminating information about their own work. Initially, we responded on a case-by-case basis, sending off the results of searches or disseminating by email information we had received from others to those on our modest contacts list. But soon the demand became overwhelming. We simply could not respond to all the requests we received.

To make the process of response more manageable, we compiled the information in the form of a newsletter, with a number of categories that reflected the subjects that appeared to be of concern to the constituency. To make the newsletter more interesting, we included editorial commentary and opinion pieces from activists in the region and elsewhere.

The newsletter is sent out as an email, with text only format so that even those without HTML enabled email programs can read the content with ease. Each section contains a five-line summary of the item, with a URL pointing to the relevant website. Stories or information announcements sent to us directly are stored on the Pambazuka online database (there are currently some 20,000 such news items and editorials available free online). The newsletter receives more than 200 postings from other newsletters, websites, and various sources each week from that we draw on for the different sections. And each week, there is a vibrant debate on critical issues related to social justice in the region and in response to editorial materials.

By forming strategic alliances with other organisations , we were able to expand the reach of the newsletter. In December 2001, it was named Pambazuka News (pambazuka in Kiswahili means to awaken or arise - as in the breaking dawn). From an initial base of a few hundred subscribers, Pambazuka News has grown to nearly 17,000 subscribers at time of writing, and a readership estimated at 80,000. The newsletter is also reproduced in its entirety at allAfrica.com, with a potential readership probably in the hundreds of thousands.

Our last subscriber survey in March 2003 indicated that about 60% of our email subscribers were based in Africa. Response from subscribers on the extent to which they forwarded and printed out the newsletter led us to extrapolate that the newsletter, or parts therof, reached more than 70,000 people on a weekly basis. Approximately 35% of subscribers worked in the NGO sector, 18% in universities, 11% in international agencies and 7% in government, although this number is likely to have increased due to the work we have done targeting parliamentarians in Africa. The survey revealed that about 20% of readers were directors or senior managers, 15% programme staff and 11% held media-related positions. We don't have reliable information on gender distribution of our readers, but we know that the number of subscriptions from women's organisations has increased substantially as a result of our involvement in the campaign on the protocol on the rights of women in Africa.

Several other factors need to be considered when taking into account the readership and reach of the newsletter. Firstly, we know from our survey that subscribers commonly print out the newsletter for distribution to their networks, indicating that information distributed in the newsletter reaches people in Africa that do not have internet access. Secondly, editorials from Pambazuka News have frequently been republished in print publications, again indicating a cross-over to a wider audience. Lastly, information distributed by Pambazuka News has been used by community radio stations in Africa in their broadcasts in two cases that we know of, again indicating how the newsletter has reached a broader audience.

According to website statistics for the pambazuka.org domain, there have been a monthly average of nearly 200,000 requests over the last six months, These figures indicate a clear upward trend, reflecting the 30% increase in the number of subscribers to the newsletter. It is difficult to draw any conclusions from the actual domain statistics. Individual country domains show low web usage, but many users in Africa make use of yahoo.com or hotmail.com email accounts which could account for the 26.34% of visitors from the .com domain.

The significant growth of Pambazuka News over the last 12 months has been associated with the extent to which the newsletter has been used as a tool for advocacy in the region. We have supported the campaign for the ratification of the Protocol on the Rights of Women in Africa, coalition of some 17 regional organisations, producing two special issues profiling important aspects of the protocol. These have been successfully used as campaigning tools at meetings of the African Union. In July 2004, an edition of Pambazuka News was delivered to parliamentarians of the inaugural Pan-African parliament in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. This edition was also produced as a pamphlet and in PDF version and entitled 'Not Yet a Force for Freedom' . We also developed and hosted a petition on the Pambazuka News website in support of women's rights. This has also involved the development of an SMS function that enables people to sign the petition by SMS and receive SMS updates about the campaign. The numbers of signatories to this petition is approaching 4000. News about the petition has been covered by VOA, BBC, Reuters, SABC, UN-IRIN and African radio and newspaper outlets in at least 20 countries.

In addition, Pambazuka News has supported the campaign for the Remembrance of the 10th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide by producing a special issue that profiled the genocide through a series of ten editorials. Pambazuka News also acted as a forum for the distribution of news and information on the commemorations .

Since its origins, we have stored each news and editorial item on an online database, mainly because this provided an effective resource for production. Over time, we had accumulated so much valuable information that we decided to make the full content of the database available online. The new website was launched in July 2003. The database and the newsletter archives are fully searchable, and access is free. We are as yet unclear what the impact of this has been: we know that there are still difficulties within our primary constituency in Africa in accessing the web. Making the database available means that it is those with easy web access who benefit most.

Lessons

We are reluctant to offer our experiences as a 'model'. We have not been 'successful' in the sense that the term is often used today: we have not made millions, we have not reached millions, and still less, we have not (yet) managed to transform the lives of millions. But we believe that there are certain features of our approach that others may find useful.

The revolution in information and communications technologies (ICTs), and in particular the internet, has potentially transformed the way people can organize, relate, discuss or debate with each other, and the way they exchange, find, retrieve, and disseminate information - even the way in which information itself is produced. Our work has been driven by a purpose outside of and beyond technology. We have sought to contribute to the building of a movement for social justice. ICTs are, we believe, only one means to that end.

We publish not because we are or want to become publishers: publishing is only the means for supporting a particular movement. Although we have devoted much energy to developing the technology that we needed, we are not a technology company. We see technology as a manifestation of social relations, rather than as an end in itself. Our work has been guided by the desire to support a particular movement. As with the products of all previous technological revolutions, the technology itself is not 'neutral'. It serves the interests of those who exercise control. All technological developments have the potential for either contributing to the emancipation of humankind, or serving the self-interest of a minority (often with socially destructive consequences). The extent to which the technology may be used for either purpose depends both upon the power of those who control it and the extent to which organized civil society concedes that control or itself harnesses the technology. Our work has essentially been an exploration of how the movement for social justice can harness that technology.

Firoze Manji is Director of Fahamu and Editor of Pambazuka News

Please send comments to [email protected]

AllAfrica.com

http://www.allafrica.com/

AMARC (World Association of Community Radio Broadcasters)

http://www.amarc.org

ARTICLE 19

http://www.article19.org

CREDO

http://www.credonet.org/

Highway Africa

http://www.highwayafrica.ru.ac.za

International Federation of Journalists

http://www.ifj.org/

International Press Institute

http://www.freemedia.at/

International Freedom of Expression Exchange

http://www.ifex.org/

MediaChannel

http://www.mediachannel.org

Media Institute of Southern Africa

http://www.misa.org

Network for the Defence of Independent Media in Africa

www.ndima.org

Panos Institute

http://www.panos.org.uk/

West African Journalists Association

http://www.ujaowaja.org/

It is commonplace to claim that liberal democracy and Africa are not good bedfellows, and how apt! Implementing liberal democracy in Africa has been like trying to force onto the body of a full-figured person, rich in all the cultural indicators of health Africans are familiar with, a dress made to fit the slim, de-fleshed Hollywood consumer model of a Barbie doll-type entertainment icon. But instead of blaming the tiny dress or its designer, the tradition has been to fault the popular body or the popular ideal of beauty, for emphasizing too much bulk, for parading the wrong sizes, for just not being the right thing. Not often is the experience and expertise of the designer or dressmaker questioned, nor his/her audacity to assume that the parochial cultural palates that inform his/her peculiar sense of beauty should play God in the lives of regions and cultures where different criteria of beauty and the good life obtain. This insensitivity is akin to the behaviour of a Lilliputian undertaker who would rather trim a corpse than expand his/her coffin to accommodate a man-mountain, or a carpenter whose only tool is a huge hammer and to whom every problem is a nail. The history of difficulty in implementing liberal democracy in Africa attests to this clash of values and attempts to ignore African cultural realities that might well have enriched and domesticated liberal democracy towards greater relevance. This call for domestication must however not be confused with the ploy by opportunistic dictatorships that have often hidden behind nebulous claims of African specificities to orchestrate highhandedness and intolerance.

It is important to revisit through non-prescriptive scholarship how civil society and ethnicity and belonging actually relate to democracy in Africa. Such scholarship should examine to what extent overstressing individual rights and underplaying the rights of cultural and religious communities could well be a key problem with the current democratisation process. The future direction of democracy may well be in a marriage or conviviality between individual aspirations and community interests, since Africans continue to emphasise relationships and solidarities over the illusion of autonomy. For democracy to succeed in this context, it must recognise the fact that most Africans are primarily patriotic to their home village, to which state and country in the modern sense are only secondary. It is in acknowledging and providing for the reality of individuals who straddle different forms of identity and belonging, and who are willing or forced to be both 'citizens' and 'subjects', that democracy stands its greatest chance in Africa.

Within this complex I would argue that while the media and journalists may be largely to blame for their highly unprofessional and unethical journalism in liberal democratic terms, other factors have contributed in no small way to such journalism. Evident from this discussion of the relationship between the media and democratisation in a multiparty context is the inadequate attention given to the quality of democracy needed and the quality and role of the media that should foster such democracy. Almost everywhere, liberal democratic assumptions have been made about the media and their role in democratisation and society, with little regard to the histories, cultures and sociologies of African societies.

The difficulties of the media in action must be understood not only as failures, but also, and more importantly, as pointers to the very inadequacies of the liberal democratic model in Africa. If African philosophies of personhood and agency stress interdependence between the individual and the community and between communities, and if journalists each identify with any of the many cultural communities all seeking recognition and representation at local and national levels, they are bound to be torn between serving their communities and serving the 'imagined' rights-bearing, autonomous individual 'citizen' of the liberal democratic model. A democracy that stresses independence, in a situation where both the worldview and the material realities emphasise interdependence, is bound to result only in dependence. The contradictions of and multi-facetted pressures on the media are a perfect reflection of such tensions and a pointer to the need for domesticated ideas of democracy in Africa.

If democratisation requires fundamental changes, as it should, such changes usually entail a challenge to vested interests, be these local, national or foreign, private or public. Contrary to some optimistic accounts, media that have facilitated genuine democratisation may appear rare in Africa. It is however clear that media which decide in earnest to play an active and positive role in this process will find themselves in a hostile environment if prevailing attitudes and practices are not in tune with the spirit of change. For to democratise means to question basic monolithic assumptions, conventional wisdom about democracy, media, government, power myths and accepted personality cults, and to suggest and work for the demystification of the state, custom and society. To democratise in Africa is to provide the missing cultural link to current efforts, links informed by popular ideas of personhood and domesticated agency. To democratise is to negotiate conviviality between competing ideas of how best to provide for the humanity and dignity of all and sundry. To democratise is above all to observe and draw from the predicaments of ordinary Africans forced by culture, history and material realities to live their lives as 'subjects' rather than as 'citizens', even as liberal democratic rhetoric claims otherwise.

The mere call for an exploration of alternatives is, as we have seen almost everywhere on the continent, bound to be perceived as a threat and a challenge. In particular, such a call would receive a hostile hearing from those who have championed the cause of one-dimensionalism nationally and internationally - that is, those who benefit from the maintenance of the status quo, and who stand to lose from any changes. They cannot withstand the challenge, stimulation and provocation that democracy (as the celebration of difference and diversity) promises. They want life to go on without disturbance or fundamental change. And they are well placed to ensure this, thanks to their power to regulate media ownership and control, the power to accord or to deny a voice to individuals and communities. Only well-articulated policies informed by public interest broadly defined to include individual and community expectations, and scrupulously respected, would guarantee against such abuse and misuse of office and privilege.

The future of democracy and the relevance of the media will depend very much on how well African states design policies that negotiate the delicate balance between public interests and private concerns. In the process they must enable the harnessing and interplay between old and new information and communication technologies towards this end. It is a future that could well be bright for communication and democracy in a broad and participatory sense. For, as Alec Russell has quite aptly observed, one of the enduring mysteries and marvels of Africa is the ability of Africans to pick up again from any setback, including even the most appalling of disasters. Such determination, demonstrated through the creative appropriation of various worldviews, values, influences, and information and communication technologies, implies that Africans have simply refused to celebrate victimhood.

* Francis B. Nyamnjoh is author of Africa's Media, Democracy and the Politics of Belonging. London: Zed Books.(May 2005). 320 pages. Cost: Hardback: GBP 60.00 $85.00; Paperback: GBP 18.95 $29.95

Review of Pradip N. Thomas and Zaharom Nain (eds), Who owns the media? Global Trends and Local Resistances, Southbound (Penang), Zed Books (London), World Association of Christian Communications.

A couple of years ago I was threatened with arrest as I tried to go through the turnstiles at a major sporting event in South Africa. My offence was that I carrying a bottle of soft drink that was not produced by the company sponsoring the event, the US corporation Pepsico.

So what does this have to do with the media? In our globalised world, absolutely everything.

The event was the cricket World Cup, a tournament most enthusiastically supported in the Indian sub-continent. At the time, Pepsi did not even market its products in South Africa (although they were available at an exorbitant price inside the stadium). The issue was advertising. Pepsi’s sponsorship was an opportunity for it to promote its product to a billion thirsty, cricket-loving Indians. I, with my non-approved soft drink – actually it was just orange juice diluted with Cape Town tap water – might attempt ‘ambush marketing’, displaying the forbidden concoction to the cameras (and presumably shaking the Pepsi empire to its foundations).

The episode was absurd, of course. But it tells us something about how the media work – and that Africa is not immune to these global trends. Progressive media analysts are sometimes fond of talking about the “commoditisation” of news and other media content. But it is really we, the audience, who are the commodity. In this example, one US company, News Corporation, was engaged in a contract with another US corporation, Pepsico, in relation to an event taking place in Africa. News Corp, the broadcaster, was selling Pepsi its predominantly Indian audience.

The timeliness of this book lies in the fact that the rapid consolidation of media ownership into the hands of a small number of corporations – mainly US-based – has been one of the most striking aspects of globalisation. The extent of the reach of these corporations can hardly be exaggerated. Even as I write these dissenting words, I am using software developed by one of these global media corporations. My message will be transmitted using cable or airwaves owned by these same corporations.

The rapidity of these developments is important to note, especially for those readers who may feel that corporate control of the media is an issue of marginal significance for Africa. As Robert McChesney points out in his chapter, none of the nine corporations that dominate the global media market existed in their present form 15 years ago.

When it comes to the question of media ownership, African journalists and media freedom activists typically only look at one dimension: state ownership of the broadcast media. (This is a mea culpa; I was for some years head of the Africa programme at a freedom of expression organisation, where we did precisely that.) Fifteen years ago, as those global media corporations were beginning to form, this was indeed the dominant question in Africa. How could we wrest control of public media from the government of the day? How could we create space for the private media?

The second task has been achieved more successfully than the first. There is still a need to develop a genuine public service model of broadcasting in Africa. But at the same time, the question of who owns the private media (sometimes erroneously described as the “independent media”) becomes increasingly urgent.

This is addressed from slightly different perspectives in three good chapters on Africa in this book. William Hueva, Keyan Tomaselli and Ruth Teer-Tomaselli review the political economy of the media in Southern Africa since 1990. This focuses, inevitably, on the role of South African corporate media in the sub-region.

Mohamed Musa and Jubril Mohammed have written a largely historical review of the development of the media in Nigeria. This provides textured detail on the impact that ownership has on the political character and content of the media.

Francis Nyamnjoh attempts to situate media ownership issues in Africa in the context of globalisation. He concludes that ownership still mainly rests with governments or global corporations, with local capital squeezed between the two. He does not further explore those situations – such as Nigeria, Kenya and South Africa – where local capitalist ownership of the media is far more developed, not necessarily to beneficial effect. His conclusion, however, is encouraging. He stresses the skill of Africans in developing alternative means of political communication, outside the technological and ownership constraints of the modern media sector.

However, those interested in future trajectories of the African media would be well advised to read some of the other chapters in this book. Slavko Splichal’s review of the media in East and Central Europe, for example, presents a picture that may be close to the Africa of a decade from now. Government-controlled state media remain major players. Alongside them are corporate media owned by members of the oligarchy. These owners are either political players using the media to bolster their position or capitalists with political ambitions. Does this media landscape mean that ordinary East Europeans receive good, accurate information through the media? My own recent research in two former Soviet republics suggests a decisive No.

Splichal calls this phenomenon Italianisation – referring, of course, to the ascent of Silvio Berlusconi, media capitalist and now Prime Minister. Might Italianisation be what the future holds in some African countries? It is certainly possible and underlines the need for some hard thinking about the alternatives.

? Richard Carver is director of Oxford Media Research.
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In December 2003, with generous donor funds, we set out to cover the World Summit on the Information Society (WSIS) in Geneva, Switzerland. Eighteen journalists drawn from the several African countries sought to report on what we considered to be a critical event for the developing world. We thought we should hear the voices of the powerful and the marginalised as they contested the definitions and implications of the so-called "Information Society" and transmit the information to our audiences across the continent. Under the rubric of Highway Africa News Agency (HANA) we had set up a subscriber list of over 150 individuals, organisations and networks based in Africa. We saw our role as:

* to report the proceedings, issues, personalities, positions in the World Summit on the Information Society (WSIS) to African audiences via the media networks and individual subscribers;
* to report the proceedings, issues, personalities, positions in WSIS from an African perspective.

We did that and more and our stories are on www.highwayafrica.ru.ac.za

The gist of my article, however, is not about what we did but of the challenges that we now encounter as we try to set up a news agency dedicated to reporting on "Information Society" issues and on Information and Communication Technologies (ICT). These challenges are fundamentally ideological. They relate to how do you create viable and sustainable media that is different from mainstream commercial media in terms of its focus.

What kind of media for what kind of society?

To make my point clear I should go back to the vision for HANA. My dream for the news agency is:
- to create a virtual platform for reporting on developments in technology and how these relate to our societies (read the poor and marginalised);
- to interrogate ICT policies and practices from the point of view of the public (the poor and marginalised);
- to create a space for ordinary voices to be heard and also for their views to be mainstreamed.

Now to go about making the above a reality is a challenge. Donor funds can only take you for a couple of years until the demand comes in for sustainability. It is this issue of sustainability that is killing ideological media. The world over both commercial and non-commercial media are grappling with how revenue and profits can be generated online. Various business models are punted on a daily basis but the reality is that most "successful'' online news publishers rely on their printed newspaper. The profits of the shareholding company sustain them through the start-up years (it literally takes years to develop a profitable online news publishing business). In any case not much of the content generated is new. Various sources of content are identified and the result can be a myriad sites carrying virtually the same stories.

So faced with problem how do we create viable pro-poor media? I think we need five key ingredients:

- clear ideological vision
- individual commitment
- partners who share same vision
- some money
- hope

In this so-called post-modern world and its fear of any claims to 'truth', 'ideology' and what post-modernists term meta-narratives when they refer to Marxism and other 'isms', there is such a fear of taking a clear ideological stance. All Marxists seem to have disappeared into something loosely calling itself left-leaning. But our media have to state their position clearly and my dream is to have an agency that proudly proclaims 'We support workers; We support the poor; We support the marginalised.' The use of the ritual of 'objectivity' is often used by journalist and the media when they do not wish to state their political leaning. The result is an attempt to play god and pretend to be above the social, political and economic contradictions of our societies.

The e-mail bulletins, independent online news sites and other small media are normally driven by the zeal of one individual. That commitment is an essential ingredient in the creation and sustaining of pro-poor media. But an individual can only do so much, hence the need for partners (strategic and financial) that buy into that vision and help drive it. Empathetic sponsors are crucial in making the dream take off. Someone has to pay for the editor's living expenses, some equipment and all that.

Above all else, driving a vision for viable media needs a huge dose of hope. The hope is for a changed world and for equally transformed media.

When all five - ideological vision, commitment, partnerships, money and hope - come together we can build media that truly speaks the language of our people's dreams.

I hope the Highway Africa News Agency will go some way in speaking that language.

* Chris Kabwato is the Director of Highway Africa, a programme of the School of Journalism and Media Studies at Rhodes University, South Africa.

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There is a general opinion that publishing in Africa is developing. This view is based on evidence that more books are being published today than two decades ago and on the proliferation of indigenous publishing houses. This is indeed the case, but the development has been more quantitative than qualitative and this is not good enough to measure development of a publishing industry. Publishing in Africa remains an enclave industry serving foreign multinationals and their 'joint ventures', which are actually comprador companies, established to legitimise the former's presence and exploitation. More of the same textbooks covering the same core school subjects are published annually. There is little or no publishing of books of interest and relevance to the majority of the people. Not even the do-it-your-self books, covering all aspects of agriculture and animal husbandry, all aspects of health promotion and disease prevention; building construction, carpentry, brick laying, and so on that people need to improve their surroundings and their incomes. The few that are published are invariably in foreign languages.

Behind the backwardness of the publishing industry is a history of inappropriate educational and cultural policies, absence of national book policies including ineffective copyright laws, high duties and taxes on paper and other printing inputs, no or under funding of libraries. Book production and distribution cannot prosper in societies where reading is limited to functionality - passing school and professional examinations. In order to put the question of publishing and development of a 'reading public' in its proper context it is necessary to look at the economic and social conditions in which it is taking place. In the final analysis, publishing is as much about access to and management of resources - financial and human - as it is about political and social decisions that favour or obstruct all round development of society.

Legacies of colonialism and capitalism have never stopped exerting deleterious influence on African countries' economic and social development. The modest gains in the social sector - education and health - that were made in the first two and a half decades of independence were wiped out by the structural adjustment policies of the World Bank. 'While the record since Jomtien (Education for All) has been uneven across sub-Saharan Africa, the region in fact had made faster progress over the 1960s and 1970s in increasing primary enrolment than Asia and Latin America, tripling the number of children in primary school.' [1] The World Bank that was responsible for wrecking Africa's education, has turned around, is now 'funding' education and deciding through its army of consultants what education is to be given to Africans. 'At a meeting with African vice-chancellors in Harare in 1986, the Bank argued that higher education in African countries in Africa was a luxury: that most African countries were better off closing universities at home and training graduates overseas.' That position was later modified but the Bank was still 'calling for universities in Africa to be trimmed and restructured to produce only those skills which the "market" demands.'[2] This explains why the Bank is interested in African education; it is in order to control it. Who would deliver good education to African youth if the best of the product of World Bank's enlightenment would be primary school leavers or imported expatriates? Would such education policies not produce drawers of water and hewers of wood, the old debate between Booker Washington and W.E.B. Dubois?

Readers of Pambazuka will be familiar with the literature on the impact of neo-liberalism on African economies and the appalling poverty that it has created in its wake. The impoverishment of working people through massive lay offs, wages that can only pay for a week's, peasants whose labours are made nought by subsidies that European and American farmers receive; are these the conditions for development of a publishing industry? If a substantial percentage of revenues to be gained by the eighteen countries that were considered deserving of debt cancellation at the recent G8 summit is invested in improving education there will be more textbooks in schools. But as already pointed out there will be more of the same books and printing rather than publishing will be the beneficiary.

History of African Publishing

European missionaries introduced publishing in Sub Sahara Africa for the purpose of providing reading material intended to make Christians out of the African people. One hundred years since then is a very short time when compared with the history of publishing in Western Europe and America. If for example African publishing had already been developed by 1900, this period would still be shorter than the time it took publishers in the United States in the 19th century to respect copyright and to stop pirating books published mostly in the United Kingdom. Publishing in Africa (still by foreign companies), started in earnest after independence as governments of newly independent African countries poured money into education in order to fulfil one of the key objectives of the independence struggles. Indigenous African publishing is an even more recent phenomenon, and with few exceptions it is still fledgling, with companies that are struggling to survive and many going under a few years after they are established.

The state of current African publishing

One problem of writing about African publishing is the absence of data on the subject. UNESCO carries scant and unreliable data on publishing in Africa because African member governments rarely ever submit such information, which is not surprising given the little interest most of them have in publishing or in UNESCO for that matter. But even limited data that is available on publishing in South Africa (considered most developed on the continent) and Nigeria (1995) when compared with the same data for Norway, a small Nordic country, exposes the weakness of publishing in Africa. Norway with a population of 4.55 million inhabitants published 7,265 titles while South Africa with more than 42 million published only 5,418 titles. Nigeria with a population of over 120 million inhabitants published 1,314 titles. That Africa with fifteen per cent of the world's population produces around two per cent of the total number of world book must be accepted at face value.
Of the books published in Africa, up to 95 percent are school textbooks. The disjunction between book production, book sales and creation of a reading public starts here. Leaving out illiterate populations, an average of 40 percent across the continent, the remaining out-of-school reading public cannot support a meaningful publishing industry. When this group is further disaggregated into subject interest sub groups, the resulting numbers of book buyers becomes too small to support more than a few titles, in short print runs and on a limited number of subjects. Implications of this fact are clear; high unit costs, high prices, absence of variety and stimulation of the market, stagnation and, or exit of publishing companies from non-textbook publishing. Authors earn little or nothing from writing, so that authorship suffers.

This is the reason for the obvious underdevelopment of the publishing industry even for a country such as Nigeria, despite its production of tens of millions of books for its huge student population and expenditure of billions of naira annually. It is also partly the reason for there being no incentives to publishing books other than textbooks. The profitability of educational publishing, which, it has been argued would lead to supporting general publishing including fiction, tends on the contrary to be the noose that is strangling it. The multinationals are only interested in profits and repatriating them. For even the famous Heinemann African writers' series, which enjoyed great prestige, was abandoned by Heinemann's new owners because it was not profitable enough. No great loss, as two prominent African writers, Nobel Prize winner for literature Wole Soyinka and Ayi Kwei Armah called the series, 'a neo-colonialist writer's coffle formed by Europeans but slyly miscalled African.' [3]

The impression should not be created here that because textbook publishing is the core of African publishing, there are adequate textbooks to meet demand for school books. Far from it. It has been suggested that a 1:3 book pupil ratio is acceptable given available resources, but even where, as in Tanzania, substantial funds were donated to invest in textbook provision through open tender system, after eight years (1995 and 2003) the project evaluation team found in one school visited (only 120 miles from Dar es Salaam) the appalling ratios of 1:40 in one subject and 0:40 for two other subjects. The Ministry of Education reports book student ratios of between 1:4 and 1:7 but reality on the ground is a different picture. Admittedly, for the sons and daughters of well to do families, the situation was different as many books that were meant to be distributed free to schools for use by all pupils were diverted to bookshops where they could be bought for private use on a 1:1 ratio.

Multinationals in textbook publishing in Africa

The situation varies from country to country, but multinational publishing companies take the biggest share of the educational book budgets in all sub-Sahara African countries. Here again statistics are not easy to come by but in South Africa, for example, Maskew Miller an indigenous white owned South African company (est. 1893), which merged with Longman (also South African) in 1983 and is now part of Pearson Group (the largest publishers in the world based in the USA), reports that they publish approximately one out of every three textbooks in South Africa [4] With several other companies, the group exercises enormous influence in South Africa's education and society generally (because they also own the influential Financial Times, Financial Mail, Business Day and TV). Other multinational publishing companies present in South Africa are Heinemann, Macmillan (which landed the hugely popular Nelson Mandela's biography) Oxford University Press, Cambridge University Press, and Stoughton Educational. OUP in South Africa as in the UK and elsewhere enjoys a not-for- profit status and does not pay taxes though it is one of the most profitable publishing giants in the UK and worldwide. Sixty percent of educational publishing in South Africa (which is 80 percent of the entire publishing industry) is controlled by multinationals with the remaining 40 percent being shared between white owned (30 percent) and black owned (10 percent) companies respectively. [5] Total net turnover for the three categories of publishing (educational, trade and academic) for 2003 is given as R1,609,500,231 which is equivalent to US$227,834,072. Sixty percent of that which is the share of the multinational translates into US$ 136,700,443. [6] Not an insignificant sum and from only one country!

All of the above multinational companies with the exception of the last one are also present in most other African countries. Their share of the markets in those countries is not very different from what it is in South Africa even in countries such as Kenya where there is a stronger local publishers' presence than in other countries. Their share of secondary and tertiary level books is even bigger. In some other countries, such as Botswana, Lesotho and Swaziland, Macmillan does nearly all the publishing and supply of books as there is no local publishing there to the best of our knowledge.

Other issues in African publishing: New technologies, ICT, POD, Internet, e-books and e-commerce

African publishing has benefited greatly from new technologies especially in the origination of PDF files through Desk Top Publishing. Information and communication technology makes possible easy communication between all stakeholders in the book chain. Print On Demand has made it possible to publish books that would never have seen the light of day for lack of financial resources to offset print large editions whose markets were not assured. African Books Collective, (the marketing and distribution organisation owned by a group of African publishers and based in Oxford), with the agreement of their member publishers prints only the number of copies that they either have orders for or they know they can sell. This service helps the African publisher save money on freight charges and the hustle of handling of shipments. For ABC it ensures uniform quality of books according to western market demand, improves visibility, saves costs on warehousing and insures availability.

The internet has revolutionised access to information and to research for African academics. Although some African publishers have their own websites it is not certain that much business is generated via that channel especially internally, and for textbook publishers who have trade representatives on the move visiting bookshops. Outside the main cities and towns there are no ISPs and access to the internet is practically impossible. The same can be said of e-commerce. Although no doubt there is potential for it, problems of payment where credit cards systems are not yet in place or are just beginning and the cost of security software and management of such a system is high it will take time before this is a realistic and viable method of trading.

Publishing in African languages

Publishing in African languages is closely tied to the question of language of instruction in schools. All over Africa education is given in the languages of the former colonial masters. Naturally this works in favour of the foreign languages to the detriment of African languages. Proponents of African languages as languages of instruction are not against English or any foreign language that is currently in use in Africa. The issue is at the very heart of the question of emancipation of African people from the racist and colonial notions that African languages are too primitive to be used in any intellectual pursuits. For the British, the English language in addition to everything else is a multi billion dollar business annually. African languages could also be big business.

The same excuses that are being made today about the inadequacy of African languages for education vis-a-vis the colonial languages were made in the 16th century when Latin occupied the position that is today occupied by English. When England had adopted English and was making fast progress in spreading education, France lagged behind because education there was still in Latin. Likewise, far from being agents of development foreign languages act as hindrances to creation of literate and reading publics and keep the majority of African citizens from participating in one of the most important field of enlightenment. Missionaries had obviously a better understanding of the importance of African languages than African educationists and their foreign mentors. Fewer than 10 percent of African people can comfortably read books in these foreign languages, and that is probably generous. Without a strong reading culture, without access to books through bookshops and libraries and given the high prices of books, only a fraction of this group would actually be buying books. So, even in those languages, publishing in any meaningful scale is not possible. This is further justification for publishing in African languages where at least there is guarantee of a large population of potential readers who are also masters of their languages.

After noting how other countries developed via the 'scientification' of their languages, Professor Ali Mazrui has posed the question, 'Can any country approximate first rank economic development if it relies overwhelmingly on foreign languages for its discourse on development and transformation? Will Africa ever effectively "take off" when it is so tightly held hostage to the languages of the former imperial powers?'[7] There is urgent need to recognise this educational and cultural imperative and to invest in developing African languages to meet those challenges. The alternative is that publishing will continue to serve only the English speaking elite, and for that reason it will not grow to the same extent as that of the publishing industry of a small country's like Norway whose output is three or four times that of Nigeria, almost twenty times its size.

Marketing and distribution

Although editorial and production functions including printing are responsible for the book's existence, marketing and distribution are responsible for getting them to the readers. This regrettably is the weakest aspect of African publishing. Most publishers have limited knowledge and experience, which is compounded by the absence in most countries of an established book trade, bookshops and other commercial outlets. Transport infrastructure is weak especially during the rainy season when most roads are impassable. Postal services are unreliable and costly. Export of African books to European and American markets was practically non-existent until the African Books Collective was founded in Oxford and started trading in 1989. Overseas dealers in African books would make yearly visits, buying books at local prices with local discounts and then transporting them and selling them at high prices in their countries and pocketing the profits. Furthermore, contrary to expectations (naive for sure) western scholars and librarians are not all that interested in scholarship emanating from Africa. Western scholars come to Africa to do research and publish their books through publishers in their own countries. Libraries of African studies centres are the first to have their budgets cut and in post 9/11 US, African studies are losing popularity. The shift now is to Arab studies, language and religion.

The book selling business faces the same problem of financing as publishing. Access to bank loans is impossible without collateral in the form of buildings or guarantees. High interest rates are forbidding; at the worst period of SAP they were twice the trade discounts that publishers offered. In some countries for many years state monopoly of book distribution destroyed nascent bookshops in up-country stations (owned by missionaries) which were supplied from the major bookshop in the chain located in the capital acting as distributor. There are signs now that bookselling may be picking up but it will take time before book readers can access books through at least one bookshop in the district.

Copyright, policy and the publishing environment

The publishing environment in Africa is constrained by low literacy, by a weak reading culture, by lack of finance and by a weak system of distribution. Many of these can be traced to the absence of effective national book policies in Africa. Copyright is one of the areas where much needs to be done. Protection of works by local authors is only one aspect of copyright; but understanding and exploiting openings within the international copyright system and practices could allow countries to access foreign books for their educational needs more cheaply than through conventional rights purchases. Removal or reduction of high duties and taxes on paper and other printing materials could reduce printing costs considerably and result in lowering prices to more affordable levels. Training facilities for staff for the publishing and printing industries are a responsibility of governments through polytechnics but professional organisations can and must work hand in hand with government. So far APNET has been offering training opportunities to publishing staff from member National Publishers Associations. Some universities also offer degrees in publishing.

Banks could be encouraged to lend to publishers and other enterprises in the book chain. Indeed governments could even borrow at concessionary rates from international financial institutions and through guarantees enable them to borrow at lower interests than the market rate. Even simple steps such as lowering postal rates for printed matter would facilitate movement of books internally and help the book trade especially in the rural areas where there are no bookshops but postal services exist. Promoting reading through establishing libraries and organising national prizes for writers, illustrators and other distinguished persons in the book chain, as well as encouraging competitions in schools in book related activities are necessary if any society wishes to revolutionise learning and advance culture. However, all these can successfully be accomplished by governments that recognise the strategic importance of the publishing industry; that realise education, in addition to classrooms, teachers and textbooks is also libraries, bookshops, journals, magazines, newspapers, the Internet and other forms in which knowledge is packaged.

Notes.
[1] Novicki, Margaret A., Boosting Basic Education in Africa,Africa Recovery, Vol.II#4, (March 1998) p.8
[2] Brock-Utne, Birgit., Whose Education for All: The Recolonisation of the African Mind, London, Falmer Press, 2000, p.218
[3] Quoted from, Gedin, Per., Publishing in Africa: The View from Outside, in Development Dialogue 1984:1-2 p.103
[4] Business Day, Publishing in South Africa
[5] Communication with South African publisher, Brian Wafawarowa, New Africa Books
[6] Galloway, Francis., Trends in South African Book Publishing Industry Since the 1990s, Department of Information Science, University of Pretoria.
[7] Altibach, Philip G., and Hassan, Salah.,The Muse of Modernity: Essays on Culture as Development in Africa, Africa World Press, Trenton NJ 1996.

* Walter Bagoya is director of Mkuki wa Nyota publishers, Dar es Salaam

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Each week in Pambazuka News carries stories about Media and Freedom of Expression. These tend to follow a predictable pattern: journalist arrested or killed, newspaper shut down, repressive laws hamper media freedom, state media displays appalling bias...

These are all important issues and they preoccupy African journalists and media freedom activists on a daily basis. Given the importance of a free flow of information in the struggle for social justice, these are things that concern broader sections of society too. But these are not the only significant issues that need to be addressed.

Who owns and controls the media in Africa? What is the impact of multinational media companies on Africa? What are the alternatives to the current choice between state-controlled media and media owned by private companies? What is the future of community media? Of alternative electronic media? Of book publishing?

Freedom of expression and freedom of information are important human rights because they provide a key to mobilising in defence of other rights. The Indian economist Amartya Sen has written that famine does not occur in countries with a free press. This is scarcely an exaggeration - the point being that the media act as a means of allowing information to flow and thereby holding governments to account.

Yet this classic "fourth estate" view of media freedom is looking distinctly tattered. In the United States, where the approach evolved, the private media have become concentrated into a small number of immensely powerful global media corporations, which have no interest in holding anyone to account. In Africa, the remnants of the old one-party media apparatuses are still going strong. Locally owned private media are emerging, but they too serve their own sectional interests.

In this issue, Richard Carver brings together articles that address these and other questions from a variety of different perspectives.

"Community radio is participatory radio with a social development purpose"
The World Association of Community Broadcasters (AMARC)-Africa

A colleague of mine told me an interesting story recently. She works with a project that has to do with the establishment of three rural community radio stations--one in Mang'elete, Kenya, one in Terrat, Tanzania and one in Kagadi, Uganda. The aim of the project was to enable the communities involved to analyse and debate development issues from their own perspectives, thus providing a linkage between local-level experiences of development on the one hand and the national-, regional- and international-level policies that shape those experiences. Beyond production of content, all three communities also own and manage their stations.

The Kenyan station, Mang'elete Community Radio, was the last to go on-air due to the protracted wrangling to get a licence and a frequency for the station. Under the former government, little movement was initially possible. The former ruling party was clear about not wanting independent electronic media to go beyond the capital city.

The regulator, in a more open and reasoned fashion, had concerns about the definitions of a 'community,' definitions of a 'community radio station' and so on. The preconceptions were many. That, in Kenya, a 'community' could only be understood to be an 'ethnic' community. That no 'community' at the local level, however well-organised and prepared to run a station, would be able to withstand the political (disguised as ethnic) pressures that would inevitably be brought to bear on it to slant its coverage to the advantage of one political faction or party over another. And so on.

Finally, after much negotiation and some political intervention, the station got its licence and frequency. The story my colleague told me has to do with what happened since. Once the station went on-air, its value to those politically-inclined sharply rose. It started raising money through community service announcements. The women's group which had initiated it found themselves quickly shunted aside as men sought to gain control of management and programming. The men quickly factionalised. The coordinator was accused of nepotism and corruption. In short, it was a mess.

My colleague, whose role was merely to facilitate fundraising, training and technical support for the three community radio stations was forced to step in, together with colleagues from the other two stations in Tanzania and Uganda. Attempts at reconciliation failed. She finally, with the help of the local provincial administration, ordered the station off-air to enable sanity to prevail again. Finally, two months later, all has been resolved. Women are back in charge of the management committee, with a clearer sense of how to manage personal and political interests. A temporary caretaker has been found to run the station pending conclusion of inquiries into the financial allegations. And valuable lessons have, hopefully, been learnt about the difficulties of 'participation.'

I thought about her story earlier this year, reading reports on the elaboration and implementation of projects under Kenya's new Constituency Development Funds (granted to all constituencies for spending on development under the constituency's representative to parliament). When she had first called me, at the height of the crisis, I was tempted to throw the baby out with the bath water. That is, to take the story as yet another example of why 'participation' does not work. Sad, but true--it is so easy to become cynical and jaded. But another colleague cautioned both of us, reminding us that people's experiences of genuine control--at any level--are still too fragile, too new to dismiss what first, inevitably, happens when their control is genuinely facilitated.

So perhaps it is unsurprising then that since the reports on the CDF projects were done, much critique has arisen. The Law Society of Kenya pointed to their unconstitutional nature given that they are monitored by parliament, whose members serve as the chairs of the CDF committees. The reports themselves pointed to problems in the make-up of some CDF committees--as usual, accusations of nepotism abounded. The reports also showed the disparity of approaches to project prioritisation. The more rational committees opted for projects that already existed but had been stalled or for projects determined by constituency-wide consultations on project priorities. The less rational committees opted for projects in the personal and political interests of the committees' chairs.

None of these are insignificant problems and they do have to be addressed. Particularly if we understand the CDF projects to be a short-term, interim step towards decentralisation and devolution. Constitutional or not (and they should be brought in line with constitutional principles), the CDF projects are an experiment. As is Mang'elete Community Radio. Experiments from which we all should take pointers as to how to most effectively involve our 'communities' not only in a determination of our own development interests, but in the management of those interests. That implies that our parliamentarians should stop seeing them as their own personal property but rather as their opportunity to enable informed and genuinely bottom-up 'participation.'

Is that too tall an order?

* L. Muthoni Wanyeki is the Executive Director of the African Women's Development and Communication Network (FEMNET)

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'One of the worst outcomes of injustices is poverty,' says Wangari Maathai, 2004 Nobel Peace Prize Winner. 'It robs human beings of their dignity.' Professor Maathai spoke at the Africa Diaspora and Development Day in London on 2 July 2005 where thousands of Africans met to discuss their own future, while across the other side of London, a largely white, apolitical road show known as Live8 was busy telling Africans what they really needed. 'When people are poor and when they are reduced to beggars, they feel weak, humiliated, disrespected and undignified,' said Maathai. ' They hide alone in corners and dare not raise their voices. They are therefore, neither heard nor seen. They do not organize but often suffer in isolation and in desperation. Yet all human beings deserve respect and dignity. Indeed it should be unacceptable to push other human beings to such levels of indiginity. Even before any other rights, perhaps it may be time to campaign for all human beings to have the right to a life of dignity: a life devoid of poverty in the midst of plenty because such poverty demonstrates gross inequalities. As long as millions of people live in poverty and indignity, humanity should feel diminished. A time such as this gives all of us, and especially those in leadership, the opportunity to reduce poverty. There is a lot of poverty in Africa. This is largely due to economic injustices, which must be addressed not only by the rich industrialized countries but also by leaders in Africa.' For the full text of her speech, click on the link below.

Even those who remember the word "Ujamaa", and know it was the philosophy behind Julius Nyrere's attempt to collectivise agriculture in the 1960s, probably wonder whether it has anything more than academic relevance to today's debates about development. In this interview with BBC Newsnight’s Paul Mason (reproduced here with permission of Paul Mason) Marie Shaba, chairperson of the Tanzanian Association of NGOs, discusses how the G8 can assist Africa’s development.

PAUL MASON: What's the one principle that drives you as an activist?

MARIE SHABA: Justice - I've seen a lot of injustices in my life. I was born in the 1940s - as a young person I've seen the struggle for independence not only for Tanzania but for the whole continent and that's what's been driving me.

PM: What are the biggest problems facing you that the G8 could actually do something about?

MS: One of the most important things they have to do is keep their promises - we are dealing here with a human race, and when you make a promise and you want the support of somebody, then you have to fulfil your promise. Africa has gone through so much and not been able to get its fair deal in trade in governance, everything. The G8 has to recognise and accept that.

PM: Give me a concrete example of the kind of poverty you have to deal with?

MS: These days we have a very strange kind of impoverishment: most of our industries - the parastatals - have been privatised. And you find women who used to be the backbone in agriculture, especially for food security, have all gone into towns now - because with the Structural Adjustment Programmes a lot of subsidies were taken away from the farmers so most of the men left the women in the village - and without subsidies women could not farm even for subsistence. So most of them are moving into towns. And this is a great phenomenon in my country, because then you have to depend on food from others - and you have no respect if you depend on food from others.

So what is happening you find women now: they are employed in the flower industry in Arusha. They employ a lot of women because they are cheaper, they are careful in the way they handle flowers, but they are not protected health-wise, and they deal with a lot of pesticides, they suffer a lot of diseases: they are like human beings saturated with pesticide in their bodies. And when you are sick they just chuck you out, employ another one. And if this woman falls sick and dies, she leaves behind orphans. So in our country we are saying "for every rose that somebody in Europe wears there is the life of an African woman". So this kind of impoverishment is quite severe and it's frightening, and its all because of liberalisation.

PM: What are people doing for themselves? When people in this country (the United Kingdom) faced problems like that, in the 19th century, they got organised to do something about it...

MS: We come from a different background: immediately after independence we had our own brand of socialism - and the main part was to have a human rights culture: that's what Ujamaa meant. And self-reliance. We had a one-party system so our mindset was totally different - there was a lot of trust, faith that the government would take care of people. That they would enter contracts for the interests of the people. But after 1987 when Structural Adjustment came in, we began to see different behaviour - and a lot of people didn't realise what was happening.

PM: So what are people doing now?

MS: We are organising - the NGOs have been in the forefront: education, to make people realise they have the power to change things through elections, through organising in groups, support each other. If people are not organising, we wouldn't be here. It means people are organising to find solutions - especially women in the informal sector. They cushion the impact of some of the economic policies, because in the informal sector they sell goods from small producers, and at the end of the day they survive: if it were not for these small producers - the so-called illiterate women, we'd be telling a different story.

PM: A lot of people here ask: why can't Africans help themselves - why can't they do what South Korea has done and go from farming to industry in one big leap?

MS: That's blaming the victim - we are here not because we are lazy, unintelligent. If I was the leader of Tanzania, and the economy was down, and here is somebody who says: "I can give you money, BUT" .... the choice is: do you refuse and let your people die, or to agree and hope things get better? That's what happened to most of our leaders; they've been hoping things will change - so its blaming the victim.

PM: If the G8 could only do one thing what would it be?

MS: Fair trade!

PM: But that's not even on the agenda of the G8...

MS: We are wondering why. Because with charity - we are all so fatigued as recipients of charity, begging, when we know we can do it ourselves. The capitalist system is so strong and been there so many years - and they keep on changing their strategies. But it’s just what Emma (Thompson) was saying: capitalism is there to maximise profits. And this means we need to rearrange our mindset.

PM: What is the mood in some of the shanty towns and villages you work in? Do people know about the G8 and the international debate that's going on about African poverty?

MS: No. A lot of people blame the government. That's the immediate thing they can see - they don't understand the intricate issues behind it all. For example our president is on the Africa Commission, and Blair is the chair of G8, so they might be aware that our issues are being discussed - but not much.

PM: So there's no big feeling on the streets - that the G8 must do something, and this is the big chance?

MS: What people are saying is they blame it all on the (African) leaders - so its up to people like us to say we shouldn't blame our leaders because we will just fight each other and let the G8 countries off. Civic education is a process: you (Britain) have been there for a long time; we've been independent only since 1961 and there are a lot of things happening that are happening too fast: but slowly the picture is beginning to unfold.

PM: If it all goes well at Gleneagles, and you get everything you want, what kind of a difference could it make? What would we see in 10 years time?

MS: It will bring back self-confidence. Right now, as Africans, I think we have lost self-esteem - we feel like we are the poorest of the poorest, like we can't even think for ourselves; like everything has to be thought out somewhere in Europe - even how to govern ourselves. So there is lack of self-esteem. But should we get the solidarity and confidence of other people, we have all the resources we need. We are blessed with all the resources: human, material, land - everything. So the support we need should go to strengthening the structures for continuity and transparency, so that more people will know what's happening - and what opportunities are there. That's more important than giving us money to settle things.

And another thing, with trade, would be to help us compete: we need a lot of preparation - and we need to start it locally, or maybe regionally before we can even compete abroad - so we need that space. That's what the G8 can do: give us space to develop at our own pace.

* This article first appeared on the blog NewsNi8gt and is reproduced here with permission of Paul Mason. Visit http://paulmason.typepad.com/newsnig8t/ for more information.

* Please send comments to [email protected]