It was a cold afternoon in Mainz, Germany. I stared hard at my computer, thinking of the assignment I had to submit in a few days. This was not a regular academic term paper; it was a policy note, a 4-page policy note. It’s supposed to be straight to the point. I had figured out what I would write about but I didn’t understand why I hesitated to start.
My topic was also interesting. It was a policy note advising the Government of South Sudan on attracting investment in climate-resilient infrastructure. It was interesting because South Sudan is a unique case. It is Africa’s youngest country (it gained independence in 2011), has a history of instability and conflict, and has an almost 80% rural population. No doubt, this is a challenging investment climate. The task I had was, therefore, to look for opportunities in this situation and how the government can leverage them.
Again, this is an interesting topic. So, why was I hesitant? I don’t know, really.
When I started writing, I saw something that made me pause. I took a long pause. My second in-text citation stood out: “The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Netherlands, 20…”
In the first paragraph, I was explaining the climate change situation in South Sudan. For this, I needed data on the impact of climate change on the country so far, and I searched- I truly searched.
I searched for something from the country—something ‘original’. As an African Studies student, I am usually conscious of my sources. I try to decolonize knowledge in my own little way. The most ‘original’ documents I found were African Development Bank (AfDB) documents. Really, thank you, AfDB.
I searched because I definitely don’t want to write a policy note for the government of an African country and cite what a government parastatal of another country had to say about it. Of course, foreign sources are not prohibited, but this one did not look good. This brings me to the question I asked in the title of this post.
My Bachelor’s degree was in History and International Studies, so believe me when I say I have read and heard how some non-Africans who wrote about Africa distorted its history. It was in one of my first undergraduate classes that I learnt about Hugh Trevor-Roper’s famous infamous 1963 quote
Perhaps in the future, there will be some African history to teach. But at present there is none, or very little: there is only the history of Europeans in Africa. The rest is largely darkness, like the history of pre-European, pre-Columbian America. And darkness is not a subject for history.
I will not dedicate time and space to ranting about why a statement like this saw the light of the day, and in 1963, for that matter. You can take a moment to rant before you continue reading.
I would understand.
So, agreed, the unfortunate situation where foreigners bastardized Africa’s history happened. Thankfully, African historians are now rewriting African history as it ought to be. However, it is expected that Africans should (I would say must, at the risk of sounding imposing) also take the initiative to write their own present and future.
By ‘writing’, I mean in both literal and figurative contexts. Literally speaking, Africans should write about what should work for Africa. Africans should conduct scientific research for the purpose of Africa in the context of Africa. Africans should conduct other forms of research for their countries within the context of their countries’ realities. Africans should make policies for Africa in the context of Africa. Africans should publish up-to-date, comprehensive data about Africa.
When I speak of Africans writing about Africa’s present and future, I do not mean ‘Ige Ajanlekoko’ at ‘Arnold McDonalds University” or ‘Wamahiu Diallo’ at ‘Jerry Schmidt Institute of Development’. I mean ‘Naa Kapeni’ at Fourah Bay College and ‘Getachew Lumumba’ at Université Cheikh Anta Diop, etc. I know this is a tricky one, because you may guess who Omolewa Shobogun is, currently at the University of Bayreuth.
Recently, there have been debates about the possibility of emerging (democratic) developmental states in Africa. However, I have serious doubts about their viability for now. From Singapore to Japan, South Korea, and China, research and development (R&D) has been and continues to be a major priority of the Asian developmental states. Meanwhile, many African governments still struggle to dedicate up to 1% of their GDP to R&D. There is also very limited collaboration with the private sector (R&D collaboration with the private sector was a prominent strategy in many of the Asian developmental states).
The resulting situation is not hard to see: Many brilliant and innovative scholars and researchers turn to international bodies for funding. With international funding, there are two popular scenarios. The most popular one is the ‘japa’ scenario. In this scenario, a scholar or researcher receives funding and relocates to another country outside of Africa. The more these scholars stay outside Africa, the more detached their opinions will be. Then, it is only a matter of time before their opinions, solutions, and advisory become that of an outsider, lacking in context and missing on-the-ground practicalities.
The second scenario concerns the piper, the tune, and the one who pays. Whether or not the researcher or scholar stays back in Africa, the external funder determines the research regulations. And in many cases, it’s not just the same. It is not the same as what it would have been if the funding came from a local source. In many cases, the result is still published with the name of the funder, which brings us back to the frustration I shared at the beginning of this post.
It is important to know that the present will eventually become an element of both the past and the future. What and how Africa is doing now will soon be called “history” and it will also determine the future. It is a matter of time before we begin to see the effect of this brain drain and the effect of the names (of organizations) under which these works are published.
I hope it does not turn out that history repeats itself.
Quite frankly, hope does only a little. Proper planning and action are more beneficial in this case.
In my next post, I will write on the figurative contexts in which Africa must begin to write her present and future.
Thank you!
P.S: I aim to ensure that everyone reading my posts can easily understand Africa’s development process and improve their knowledge significantly. Please leave a comment to let me know if you found this easy to read and understand. Kindly suggest ways I can improve too.
This post does not attempt to oversimplify the diverse experiences of different African countries/societies. ‘Africa’ is repeatedly used in this context to convey a message that the author believes affects most African countries.
Omolewa Shobogun 