Category: Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Richard Calland, Emeritus Associate Professor in Public Law, UCT. Visiting Adjunct Professor, WITS School of Governance; Director, Africa Programme, University of Cambridge Institute for Sustainability Leadership, University of Cambridge

With the Trump administration slashing US Agency for International Development budgets and European nations shifting overseas development aid budgets to bolster defence spending, the world has entered a “post-aid era”.

But there is an opportunity to recast development finance as strategic investment: “country platforms”.

Country platforms are government-led, nationally owned mechanisms that bring together a country’s climate priorities, investment needs and reform agenda, and align them with the interests of development partners, private investors and implementing agencies. They function as a strategic hub: convening actors, coordinating funding, and curating pipelines of projects for investment.

Think of them as the opposite of donor-driven fragmentation. Instead of dozens of disconnected projects driven by external priorities, a country platform enables governments to set the agenda and direct finance to where it is needed most. That could be renewable energy, climate-smart agriculture, resilient infrastructure, or nature-based solutions.

Country platforms are a current fad. They were the talk of the town at the 2025 Spring meetings of multilateral development banks in Washington DC. Will they quickly fade as the next big new idea comes into view? Or can they escape the limitations and failings of the finance and development aid ecosystem?

The Independent High Level Expert Group on Climate Finance, on which I serve, is striving to find new ways to ramp up finance – both public and private – in quality and quantity. I agree with those who argue that country platforms could be the innovation that unlocks the capital urgently needed to tackle climate overshoot and buttress economic development.

The model is already being tested. More than ten countries have launched their platforms, and more are in the pipeline.

For African countries, the opportunity could not be more timely. African governments are racing to deliver their Nationally Determined Contributions. These are the commitments they’ve made to reduce their greenhouse gas emissions as part of climate change mitigation targets set out in the Paris Agreement. Implementing these plans is often being done under severe fiscal constraints.

At the same time global capital is looking for investment opportunities. But it needs to be convinced that the rewards will outweigh the risks.

Where it’s being tested

In Africa, South Africa’s Just Energy Transition Partnership has demonstrated both the potential and the complexity of a country platform. Egypt and Senegal also have country platforms at different stages of implementation. Kenya and Nigeria are exploring similar mechanisms. The African Union’s Climate Change and Resilient Development Strategy calls for country platforms across the continent.

New entrants can learn from countries that started first.

But country platforms come in different shapes and sizes according to the context.

Another promising example is emerging through Mission 300, an initiative of the World Bank and African Development Bank, working with partners like The Rockefeller Foundation, Global Energy Alliance for People and Planet, and Sustainable Energy for All. It aims to connect 300 million people to clean electricity by 2030.

Central to this initiative are Compact Delivery and Monitoring Units. These are essentially country platforms anchored in electrification. They reflect how a well-structured country platform can make an impact. Twelve African countries are already moving in this direction. All announced their Mission 300 compacts at the Africa Heads of State Summit in Tanzania.

This growing cohort reflects a continental commitment to putting energy-driven country platforms at the heart of Africa’s development architecture.

Why now – and why Africa?

A well-functioning country platform can help in a number of ways.

Firstly, it can give the political and economic leadership a clear goal. The platform can survive elections and show stability, certainty and transparency to the investment world.

Secondly, national ownership and strategic alignment can reduce risk and build confidence. That would encourage investment.

Thirdly, it builds trust among development partners and investors through clear priorities, transparency, and national ownership.

Fourthly, it moves beyond isolated pilot projects to system-level transformation – meaning structural change. The transition in one sector, energy for example, creates new value chains that create more, better and safer jobs. Country platforms put African governments in charge of their own economic development, not as passive recipients of climate finance.

The country sets its investment priorities and then the match-making with international climate finance can begin.

Making it work: what’s needed

Developing the data on which a country bases its investment and development plans, and blending those with the fiscal, climate and nature data, is complex. For this reason country platforms require investment in institutional capacity, cross-ministerial collaboration, and strong coordination between finance ministries, environment agencies and economic planners. And especially, in leadership capability.

African countries must take charge of this capacity and capability acceleration.

Second, development partners can respond by providing money as well as supporting African leadership, aligning with national strategies, and being willing to co-design mechanisms that meet both investor expectations and local realities.

Capacity is especially crucial given the scale of Africa’s needs. According to the African Development Bank, Africa will require over US$200 billion annually by 2030 to meet its climate goals. Donor aid will provide only a fraction of this. It will require smart, coordinated investment and careful debt management. Country platforms provide the structure to govern the process.

Seizing the opportunity

Country platforms represent one of the most promising innovations in climate and development finance architecture. Properly designed and led, they offer African countries the opportunity to take ownership of their climate and development futures – on their own terms.

Country platforms could be the “buckle” that finally enables the supply and demand sides of climate finance to come together. It will require commitment, strategic and technical capability, and, above all, smart leadership.

– Development finance in a post-aid world: the case for country platforms
– https://theconversation.com/development-finance-in-a-post-aid-world-the-case-for-country-platforms-257994

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Daniel Cash, Reader in Law, Aston University

For governments, a credit rating is more than a financial signal. It is a verdict that can influence the cost of borrowing, access to markets and, ultimately, the ability to provide for their citizens.

Rating decisions are made behind closed doors in a private process that isn’t open to assessment or scrutiny.

For African countries, this opacity can be especially damaging. When rating decisions lack transparency, it’s impossible to challenge potential biases or inconsistencies in methodology that put developing economies at a disadvantage. The result is higher borrowing costs that drain resources from healthcare, education and infrastructure investment.

Africa’s new credit rating agency has the chance to change this. The African Credit Rating Agency is an initiative under development by the African Union and its partners. It is more than a new entrant; it is an attempt to rethink how financial authority is earned, exercised and scrutinised. The new agency plans to introduce transparent governance structures that could revolutionise rating methodology.

As a researcher who has looked closely at the working of rating agencies, I believe this opportunity to bring transparency to financial governance isn’t just about better ratings. It’s a step towards economic sovereignty.

Success for the African Credit Rating Agency shouldn’t be measured by whether it displaces the “big three” rating agencies (Standard & Poor’s, Moody’s and Fitch). The real question isn’t whether an African agency can compete, but rather whether it can show the world how to rate credit differently.

A flawed process

The three big agencies do publish their methodologies – their criteria and risk models. This creates an illusion of transparency. Yet the final judgments emerge from committee meetings that produce no public record, no accountability, and no right of meaningful appeal.

These rating committees typically comprise five to 10 analysts who meet in closed sessions to make each sovereign rating decision. S&P, Moody’s and Fitch each operate internal rating committees for every sovereign rating decision. The deliberations, dissenting views, and specific reasoning behind final votes remain confidential. Only a brief summary is provided with a rating decision.

Research has shown that credit rating agencies are more accurate at assessing the creditworthiness of advanced economies than developing economies. There have also been studies on the discrepancy between what is expected when the public methodologies are applied and what the agencies actually rate. These studies have been done for economies like Hong Kong and China, but no equivalent research has yet been undertaken for African sovereigns.

This discrepancy exposes an accountability void. When methodology-based predictions miss the mark, we must question what happens in those committee rooms. Especially when African nations are being assessed by analysts stationed continents away, with limited understanding of local economic and political realities.

The African Credit Rating Agency could make three changes to the way ratings are done:

• through public deliberations

• by forming hybrid committees

• with technological intervention.

First, it could release committee transcripts within 30 days of each decision. This would give markets and governments unprecedented insight into rating rationales. This isn’t radical – central banks already publish meeting minutes, and courts publish opinions with dissenting views.

Second, it could pioneer panels that include not only rating analysts, but regional economists, sectoral specialists, and even civil society observers. All with recorded votes. This diversified expertise would disrupt “group think” while capturing nuances of African economies that traditional agencies overlook.

I have examined this idea from the perspective of injecting climate and sustainability-related expertise into credit rating committees. I believe this is a crucial step to take to evolve the concept of the credit rating committee.

Third, the agency could use artificial intelligence to analyse patterns across committee discussions, flagging potential regional biases or inconsistent methodology application. It might be able to use secure digital ledgers to create unchangeable records of decisions.

Why the big three keep it closed

The industry thrives on privacy – protecting proprietary methodologies and shielding decisions from external challenge. And the natural oligopoly (a market dominated by a few large players due to high entry barriers, reinforced by market preference for predictability) helps it stay that way.

The sovereign credit ratings of the three big agencies are built on quantitative and qualitative factors. But research shows that sovereign ratings are subjected to qualitative understandings. This puts developing economies at a disadvantage when agencies demonstrate pro-western biases because they lack data or knowledge.

The impact of a credit rating downgrade for a sovereign borrower is usually multifaceted. Research shows that a single-notch downgrade can raise borrowing costs by more than 100 basis points, equivalent to an extra US$100 million annually on a US$10 billion bond.

Investors prefer fewer, stronger signals rather than many competing views. So there’s little incentive for established players to change. The African Credit Rating Agency, as a new entrant, can offer something the incumbents won’t: governance innovation that serves both markets and nations.

Radical openness will shake markets, at least at first. Committee members might face political pressure. Transparency alone doesn’t guarantee fair outcomes.

But the world already demands transparency from central banks and constitutional courts. Why accept anything less from institutions that shape sovereign destiny?

Next steps

By 2050, one in four people on Earth will be African. The financial architecture serving them must evolve towards systems that recognise the continent’s unique strengths.

Opening the rating committee to view represents more than technical reform – it’s about shifting who holds power in global finance. If it does this, the African agency won’t just deliver better ratings; it will model how global finance can be governed more justly.

– Africa’s new credit rating agency could change the rules of the game. Here’s how
– https://theconversation.com/africas-new-credit-rating-agency-could-change-the-rules-of-the-game-heres-how-257138

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Andrew Kweku Conduah, PhD Candidate, University of Ghana

Ghana’s national agenda often focuses on the country’s large number of young people. In fact a less noticed demographic transformation is reshaping society: the country’s older population is growing rapidly. According to Ghana Statistical Service estimates, people aged 60 and above are projected to make up over 12% of the total population by 2050, more than doubling the 2021 estimate of 6.8%.

And more of these older adults are ageing alone.

That’s because of Ghana’s transition from extended to nuclear family systems, coupled with rural–urban and international migration. Traditionally, older Ghanaians aged within multi-generational households, with care provided by children and extended family. But today, migration patterns have intensified, with over 50% of the population living in urban areas, leaving many elders behind in rural communities or isolated in city slums.

I recently conducted a study across six Ghanaian communities (urban and rural). Drawing from 52 interviews, I explored the emotional, social and economic implications of ageing alone.

The participants in the study echoed a common theme: the erosion of intergenerational family structures, leaving the elderly socially and emotionally isolated.

As a 73-year-old widow participant who lives in a city put it:

My daughter is in Canada. My son lives in Kumasi, but he rarely visits. I live alone, and if I fall sick, I just wait. Sometimes, I pray someone will notice.

Such stories are no longer anecdotal outliers. Nationally representative data from the Ghana Living Standards Survey and WHO SAGE Ghana Wave 2 also reveal an uptick in solitary living among older adults, particularly widowed women and those without formal pensions. Over 22% of older respondents in urban Ghana reported living alone, a sharp contrast to previous decades, where co-residence with adult children was the norm. Many older Ghanaians don’t have reliable caregivers.

As a PhD candidate in population studies at the University of Ghana, I focus on health-related quality of life among older adults. This article draws from my doctoral fieldwork in urban and rural Ghana, using qualitative interviews to uncover the lived realities of ageing alone.

The study highlights a gap in Ghana’s ageing policies: they overlook solitary elders who live without daily family support.

The paper calls for integrated social protection for older adults living alone. That would include subsidised healthcare, community outreach services, emergency care networks, and community-based mental health interventions.

What old people had to say

Focus group discussions revealed that older adults struggle with emotional loneliness, financial anxiety and health system constraints. Despite the presence of pension associations, many older adults feel forgotten. Spiritual activities and reading offer moments of solace, but limited National Health Insurance Scheme coverage, rising living costs, and declining family support deepen the hardship.

Focus groups revealed that older women were particularly vulnerable due to widowhood, land insecurity and declining support from children. Men, while respected, felt idle and underutilised. Participants spoke of finding strength in farming, faith and fellowship, but felt forgotten in national development planning.

Ghana’s National Ageing Policy (2010) promises integrated care, but older adults, especially women, are slipping into the cracks of urban anonymity.

Ageing here is not just biological, it is physical, psychological and economic. My broader research affirms that the majority of older adults in Ghana worked in the informal sector. They therefore have no access to formal pensions or post-retirement income security.

Participants in my most recent research shared how they felt:

I was a seamstress all my life. Now my eyes are failing. No pension, no money. I survive on cassava and prayer. – 66-year-old retired woman

Ageing in Ghana is like walking into a forest — you disappear quietly. No one sees you. — 69-year-old woman

This statement underscores the gendered experience of ageing, where women often face greater economic and emotional vulnerability due to widowhood, longer life expectancy, and social neglect.

We are not dying yet. We want to matter again. – 70-year-old man

We have houses, but not homes anymore. – 75-year-old man

What next

The implications of this neglect are staggering. According to the World Health Organization, loneliness and social isolation among the elderly are associated with a 50% increased risk of dementia, depression and premature death. In Ghana, there are added challenges of inaccessible health facilities and cultural stigma about ageing. Yet most people aren’t talking about it.

Ghana introduced the National Ageing Policy in 2010 to promote the health, security and participation of older people in national development. But many elderly people still live without affordable healthcare, age-friendly infrastructure or a regular income.

What Ghana needs now is not another grand policy document. It needs practical, community-rooted and state-supported action.

Decentralised community geriatric care: Train district-level health volunteers in geriatric care, and equip them with basic tools to support older people in their homes.

Pension and informal sector integration: Extend Ghana’s pension framework to informal sector workers.

Public awareness campaigns: Reframe ageing in national media not as decline but as contribution, highlighting elder wisdom, resilience, and ongoing social relevance.

Urban planning for ageing: Incorporate age-friendly elements like ramps, benches, toilets and signage into development plans.

None of this is charity. It is a strategic investment. In 2021, Ghana spent less than 0.5% of its national health budget on elderly-specific care. That is fiscally short-sighted. Healthier, engaged older adults reduce family burdens, boost social capital, and can even contribute economically by training and mentoring others.

In the communities I visited, I encountered grassroots interventions worth scaling up: church youth groups providing weekly food support, pensioners’ associations checking in on members, and intergenerational community storytelling sessions that rebuild emotional bonds.

In Ghana’s Akan tradition, elders are considered living libraries. Their absence from the communal space is not just a social loss, it is a cultural erasure.

If the elderly are neglected, anyone may wake up on the wrong side of the demographic line one day, wondering if they too will be forgotten.

– Ghana’s older people feel left behind and ignored: how to care for them better
– https://theconversation.com/ghanas-older-people-feel-left-behind-and-ignored-how-to-care-for-them-better-257951

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Eric Y Tenkorang, Professor of Sociology,, Memorial University of Newfoundland

Intimate partner violence is controlling behaviour that results in harm to victims. This can be physical, sexual, emotional, psychological, economic or spiritual harm. Women are overwhelmingly the victims and survivors of intimate partner violence.

Globally, about one third of women have experienced some type of intimate partner violence. In Ghana too, one third of women have experienced physical and sexual abuse.

Research has linked women’s experiences of intimate partner violence to their socio-economic marginalisation, although it can happen to wealthy women too. Beyond the socio-economic reasons, some also make cultural arguments.

One such factor is lineage: lines of ancestry. Lineage is a major source of wealth, privileges and responsibilities in Ghana and more broadly in sub-Saharan Africa.

Some people trace their ancestry through maternal kin members. Women in these matrilineal societies wield socio-economic and cultural power because inheritance goes through the female line. As carriers of the lineage, women have some cultural value.

In a patrilineage, people trace their ancestry through men. Inheritance goes through the male line. Women cannot source wealth from the lineage. There is noticeable gender ordering and hierarchies in patrilineal societies. Male children are considered the carriers of the lineage.

Despite these two predominant lineage systems, there is also bilateral descent. In bilateral systems, kinship is traced to both maternal and paternal sides of the family.

Recent studies have suggested a link exists between lineage and intimate partner violence. But there is limited evidence as to why this might be the case.

One of my research interests is violence against women in African cultures and I have published extensively on this subject. For a recent study, my team collected survey data, including in-depth interviews, from the three ecological areas of Ghana – coastal, middle and northern. These reflect differences in ecology, culture and modernity.

About 1,700 women responded to our survey questions on lineage and intimate partner violence. Of these, about 30 women were followed up for an in-depth interview.

We found differences in experiences of violence between women depending on the lineage system they were part of. Awareness of this pattern could inform efforts to prevent violence and empower women.

What we found

A major finding was that women in matrilineal communities experienced lower levels of intimate partner violence than women in patrilineal communities or bilateral ones. Part of the reason is women’s access to resources.

We also found that bride price payments elevated patrilineal women’s risks of experiencing intimate partner violence. Bride price payment is an exchange of resources from the groom to the family of the bride. This is in acknowledgement that marriage has taken place. Women in patrilineal systems were more likely to experience physical, sexual and emotional violence when bride price was fully paid than when it was partially paid.

Unlike patrilineal women, matrilineal and bilateral women only experienced emotional and physical violence when bride price was fully paid.

The backdrop

Ghana passed its landmark Domestic Violence Act in 2007. It criminalises acts that are likely to result in intimate partner violence. This opened the door to the establishment of a Domestic Violence and Victim Support Unit to prosecute perpetrators. Structures are also in place to provide support for victims of abuse.

But criminalising intimate partner violence offers only a partial remedy to the problem. This is particularly true when behaviours that lead to such acts of violence are deeply rooted in inequality, culture and patriarchy.

Despite recent efforts to bridge gender inequality, Ghana continues to lag behind other societies in this area. Ghanaian women are discriminated against socially and culturally. They are excluded from participating in major decisions related to their households and communities. They are also marginalised economically, creating less opportunity for upward mobility.

The patriarchal nature of Ghanaian society has not helped. It has worked in tandem with existing social arrangements to deepen inequality and further render women powerless.

In my view, part of matrilineal women’s reduced risk of experiencing intimate partner violence may be explained by access to maternal resources, where they benefit more than their patrilineal and bilateral counterparts.

This background also helps explain why bride price arrangements make a difference. Contemporary feminist analysis of the payment of bride price suggests it may be interpreted as “wife ownership and purchase”. This can be a tool for oppressing and controlling women.

These findings support the argument that bride price payment may have negative consequences for Ghanaian women. This is especially so for those in patrilineal cultures where the norms and expectations associated with these payments are stronger.

A path to safety

Establishing cultural reasons why some women are at greater risk than others of experiencing intimate partner violence is important for policy in Ghana and has implications for sub-Saharan Africa.

Our research findings point to the need to empower women by providing them with the resources they need to flourish and fight abuse. It shows lineage can be a conduit for resource exchange and distribution.

Also, public education can help correct narratives of ownership and purchase which are linked to intimate partner violence. Bride price payments should have symbolic, not commercial, significance.

– Violence against women in Ghana is deeply rooted in culture and family ties – study
– https://theconversation.com/violence-against-women-in-ghana-is-deeply-rooted-in-culture-and-family-ties-study-257947

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Anette Hoffmann, Senior Researcher at the Institute for African Studies and Egyptology, University of Cologne

During the first world war (1914-1918) thousands of African men enlisted to fight for France and Britain were captured and held as prisoners in Germany. Their stories and songs were recorded and archived by German linguists, who often didn’t understand a thing they were saying.

Now a recent book called Knowing by Ear listens to these recordings alongside written sources, photographs and artworks to reveal the lives and political views of these colonised Africans from present-day Senegal, Somalia, Togo and Congo.

Anette Hoffmann is a historian whose research and curatorial work engages with historical sound archives. We asked her about her book.

How did these men come to be recorded?

About 450 recordings with African speakers were made with linguists of the so-called Royal Prussian Phonographic Commission. Their project was opportunistic. They made use of the presence of prisoners of war to further their research.

In many cases these researchers didn’t understand what was being said. The recordings were archived as language samples, yet most were never used, translated, or even listened to for decades.

The many wonderful translators I have worked with over the years are often the first listeners who actually understood what was being said by these men a century before.

What did they talk about?

The European prisoners the linguists recorded were often asked to tell the same Bible story (the parable of the prodigal son). But because of language barriers, African prisoners were often simply asked to speak, tell a story or sing a song.

We can hear some men repeating monotonous word lists or counting, but mostly they spoke of the war, of imprisonment and of the families they hadn’t seen for years.

In the process we hear speakers offer commentary. Senegalese prisoner Abdoulaye Niang, for example, calls Europe’s battlefields an abattoir for the soldiers from Africa. Others sang of the war of the whites, or speak of other forms of colonial exploitation.

When I began working on colonial-era sound archives about 20 years ago, I was stunned by what I heard from African speakers, especially the critique and the alternative versions of colonial history. Often aired during times of duress, such accounts seldom surface in written sources.

Clearly, many speakers felt safe to say things because they knew that researchers couldn’t understand them. The words and songs have travelled decades through time yet still sound fresh and provocative.

Can you highlight some of their stories?

The book is arranged around the speakers. Many of them fought in the French army in Europe after being conscripted or recruited in former French colonies, like Abdoulaye Niang. Other African men got caught up in the war and were interned as civilian prisoners, like Mohamed Nur from Somalia, who had lived in Germany from 1911. Joseph Ntwanumbi from South Africa was a stoker on a ship that had docked in Hamburg soon after the war started.

In chapter one Niang sings a song about the French army’s recruitment campaign in Dakar and also informs the linguists that the inmates of the camp in Wünsdorf, near Berlin, do not wish to be deported to another camp.

An archive search reveals he was later deported and also that Austrian anthropologists measured his body for racial studies.

His recorded voice speaking in Wolof travelled back home in 2024, as a sound installation I created for the Théodore Monod African Art Museum in Dakar.

Chapter two listens to Mohamed Nur from Somalia. In 1910 he went to Germany to work as a teacher to the children of performers in a so-called Völkerschau (an ethnic show; sometimes called a human zoo, where “primitive” cultures were displayed).

After refusing to perform on stage, he found himself stranded in Germany without a passport or money. He worked as a model for a German artist and later as a teacher of Somali at the University of Hamburg. Nur left a rich audio-visual trace in Germany, which speaks of the exploitation of men of colour in German academia as well as by artists. One of his songs comments on the poor treatment of travellers and gives a plea for more hospitality to strangers.

Stephan Bischoff, who grew up in a German mission station in Togo and was working in a shoe shop in Berlin when the war began, appears in the third chapter. His recordings criticise the practices of the Christian colonial evangelising mission. He recalls the destruction of an indigenous shrine in Ghana by German military in 1913.

Also in chapter three is Albert Kudjabo, who fought in the Belgian army before he was imprisoned in Germany. He mainly recorded drum language, a drummed code based on a tonal language from the Democratic Republic of Congo that German linguists were keen to study. He speaks of the massive socio-cultural changes that mining brought to his home region, which may have caused him to migrate.

Together these songs, stories and accounts speak of a practice of extracting knowledge in prisoner of war camps. But they offer insights and commentary far beyond the “example sentences” that the recordings were meant to be.

Why do these sound archives matter?

As sources of colonial history, the majority of the collections in European sound archives are still untapped, despite the growing scholarly and artistic interest in them in the last decade. This interest is led by decolonial approaches to archives and knowledge production.

Sound collections diversify what’s available as historical texts, they increase the variety of languages and genres that speak of the histories of colonisation. They present alternative accounts and interpretations of history to offer a more balanced view of the past.

– African prisoners made sound recordings in German camps in WW1: this is what they had to say
– https://theconversation.com/african-prisoners-made-sound-recordings-in-german-camps-in-ww1-this-is-what-they-had-to-say-254127

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Tinashe Mushakavanhu, Research Associate, University of Oxford

In southern Africa townships were built as segregated urban zones for black people. They were created under colonial and white minority rule policies that controlled movement, confined opportunity, and kept people apart.

I grew up in a different historic black township in Zimbabwe, but Mbare was the first of its kind. It holds a unique place in the nation’s imagination.

Mbare was originally named Harare. But in 1982 that name was reassigned to the capital city that houses it. In its storied past, it was once the heartbeat of black urban life. At its centre is Rufaro Stadium, where Bob Marley and the Wailers famously performed at Zimbabwe’s independence celebrations.

The township was a hub of cultural energy, sports, and political activism, and the community beer hall served as a vital gathering point. Today, many of these beer halls stand derelict.

These once-thriving communal spaces reflect a broader neglect of civic infrastructure in post-independence Zimbabwe. Yet out of these ruins, new life is taking shape.

One of the most influential figures in Zimbabwe’s artist-run spaces movement, Moffat Takadiwa, has transformed one of these former beer halls into the Mbare Art Space. The dynamic arts hub reclaims the building’s original spirit of gathering, creativity and public engagement.

Operating under a long lease from the Harare City Council, this nonprofit initiative is part of a wider urban renewal and adaptive reuse project aimed at reimagining the city’s cultural infrastructure.

My ongoing work in archival research includes mapping and visiting historical and cultural spaces like this. Here Takadiwa saw the potential for not just studios and an exhibition venue, but also for dialogue and community regeneration.

Transforming spaces

Beer halls were established by British colonial authorities in Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) as part of a strategy of social control over the African urban population. They were designed to regulate leisure, restrict political organising and generate revenue through the sale of alcohol. By centralising drinking in state-run facilities, colonial administrators aimed to monitor and contain African social life while profiting from it.

Situated in a repurposed colonial-era beer garden, Mbare Art Space turns a former site of segregation into a vibrant centre of artistic and communal revival. It redefines a legacy of constraint and control as one of creative freedom and empowerment. The place is now an artists’ haven with studios, office space, an exhibition hall and a digital hub.

Takadiwa’s vision is informed by global precedents, notably inspired by US artist Theaster Gates, whose work includes the transformation of a derelict bank on Chicago’s South Side. It became the Stony Island Arts Bank – a hybrid space for art, archives and community engagement.

Takadiwa opened Mbare Art Space in 2019 with a vision to support emerging artists through mentorship and access to resources. True to his artistic philosophy – resurrecting abandoned, often overlooked materials suffering the effects of urban decay – he revitalised a neglected site. Most of the artists working from this space follow his lead, upcycling and recycling found materials into compelling visual forms that speak to both history and possibility.

When I arrive, Takadiwa is on his way out, but offers me a quick tour of his studio, where works in progress for his upcoming participation in the São Paulo Biennale are taking shape.

Known for his lush, densely layered sculptures and tapestry-like works made from found objects – computer keyboards, bottle tops, toothbrushes, and toothpaste tubes – Takadiwa has garnered international acclaim. His works are collected by US rapper Jay-Z and major institutions like the Centre National d’Art Plastique in Paris, the European Parliament’s art collection in Brussels, and the National Gallery of Zimbabwe in Harare.

Collaboration

What Takadiwa is building is not just an arts centre – it’s a new model space rooted in history and responsive to the present. The site itself becomes an ongoing installation, activated by the artists, curators and community members who inhabit it.

Tafadzwa Chimbumu, the operations manager, takes over the tour, guiding me through the rest of the precinct. The site retains the bones of its beer hall architecture, but it bursts with new life. Colourful murals adorn the walls. Tents draped over smaller buildings animate the exposed brickwork.

Plans are underway to establish a library here, a resource where researchers and artists can engage with Zimbabwe’s under-documented art history. Much of this history is scattered across archives and unpublished dissertations, rather than in widely available books. The aim is to bring these materials together and make them more accessible to the public.

Mbare Art Space is also becoming an exciting hub for collaboration and education. Community workshops, for example, are led by resident artists. Local schools take part in art education initiatives. Through community outreach and educational programming, the centre is extending its impact beyond its immediate geography.

As it looks to the future, Mbare Art Space is focused on expanding its artist-in-residence programme, inviting both local and international artists to immerse themselves in the context of Mbare and Zimbabwe.

Ultimately, what the space offers is something intangible – a feeling, a memory, a vision of what is possible when history and imagination meet in a shared place.

– Mbare Art Space: a colonial beer hall in Zimbabwe has become a vibrant arts centre
– https://theconversation.com/mbare-art-space-a-colonial-beer-hall-in-zimbabwe-has-become-a-vibrant-arts-centre-256528

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Julie Reid, Professor, University of South Africa

Big tech sharing economy platforms like Airbnb and Uber are marketed as trustworthy, but a new book by a South African media scholar argues that they are highly vulnerable to scammers who spread delusive speech (a form of disinformation, designed to deceive by criminal intent).

Julie Reid draws from first-hand accounts and over 600 cases from around the world of victims lured into scams or physical danger by fake Airbnb reviews and listings, providing a detailed case study. We asked her five questions about her book.

How do the scams work?

Airbnb is the world’s largest accommodation-sharing platform. It connects property owners who want to rent out their homes with travellers looking for alternatives to traditional hotels. The company recently expanded its offering and now facilitates the booking of other services like personal trainers or caterers along with accommodation rentals.

Airbnb scams happen in several ways. The most obvious is the phantom listing scam. The scammer constructs a fake but attractive listing on Airbnb and accepts payments from unsuspecting guests. It’s only when guests arrive at the address that they discover the property doesn’t exist. Scammers have also learnt to navigate around Airbnb’s review system. Fake positive reviews are produced by scam host networks, making them appear to be authentic.

Bait and switch scams are also common. Here the scam “host” contacts the guest on check-in day claiming the reserved property is suddenly unavailable. They offer alternative accommodation, which the guest later discovers is not as good as the original property they’ve paid for (which is often fictional). The guest pays for a premium rental but is forced to stay in a property that might be unsafe, unclean, or missing amenities.

Scam hosts use misleading, plagiarised, or AI-generated property images and fake descriptions along with fake personal profiles and aliases.

Delusive tactics also redirect guests away from the secure Airbnb payment portal to alternative payment methods. The scammer disappears with the money.

But the danger isn’t limited to financial crimes. The platform’s business model is premised on staying in a stranger’s private property, which can put guests’ personal safety at risk.

Criminal hosts can lure targets into dangerous environments. Once checked in, guests are isolated from public view, housed in a property to which the host has access.

I’ve assessed multiple cases where Airbnb guests were assaulted, robbed with no signs of forced entry, raped, murdered, made victims of sexploitation, extortion or human trafficking, or held hostage.

How does the disinformation work?

I consider delusive speech a subset of disinformation because it presents intentionally misleading content at scale. But it differs from disinformation in its intentions. It isn’t done to promote a particular cause or gain ideological, military, or political advantage. Delusive speech is motivated purely by criminal intent or nefarious financial gain.

Read more: The sharing economy can expose you to liability risks – here’s how to protect yourself

Delusive speech works by hiding in plain sight on platforms we think we can trust, like Airbnb, Booking.com, Uber and others. Often, it’s indistinguishable from honest and genuine content. When users browse Airbnb listings for holiday accommodation, they’re presented with numerous options. A fake property listing looks, sounds and feels exactly the same as a genuine one.

This happens on a platform that has built its brand narrative around the concept of trust. Scammers exploit these digital contexts of pre-established trust. When users log on to popular e-commerce or sharing economy platforms, they’re already primed to pay for something. It becomes relatively easy for scammers to delude targets into parting with their money.

What can Airbnb do about it?

Airbnb already has several trust and safety mechanisms in place. They include rapid response teams, an expert Trust and Safety Advisory Coalition and travel insurance for guests. The company claims to be trying to stop fake listings with machine learning technology.

Sadly, none of these mechanisms work perfectly. While Airbnb promises to verify properties and host identities, my analysis exposes flaws in these systems. Scammers easily bypass verification tiers through aliases, forged documents and AI-generated material. Airbnb has admitted it needs to address the failures of its verification processes.

Read more: How to stay safe in cyberspace: 5 essential reads

My analysis uncovered how scammed guests are routinely denied the opportunity to post reviews of problematic rentals. Opaque terms of service and content policies allow Airbnb customer service agents and executives to justify censoring negative but honest guest reviews.

This means dangerous and fraudulent activity goes publicly unreported and unreviewed, leaving future guests vulnerable. I argue that Airbnb’s review curation mechanisms should be revamped according to internationally recognised human rights frameworks that protect freedom of speech. This would allow for more honest accounts of guest experiences and create a safer online environment.

Perhaps the most common complaint I encountered was that Airbnb doesn’t remove offending listings from its platform, even after a scammed guest provides evidence that the listing was posted by a fraudster. Airbnb must develop an urgent protocol for swiftly removing offending listings when discovered, to protect future guests from falling victim to the same scam trap.

What can users do to protect themselves?

Travellers can protect themselves by being extra cautious. Ask around. Seek recommendations from people you know and trust, and who can verify that the property you are booking actually exists and that the host is trustworthy.

If that isn’t an option, consider an established hotel instead, but book directly with the hotel and not via third party sites like Booking.com where listings can easily be faked. Check on Google Street View to make sure the property is where it claims to be.

Either way, have a Plan B in case things go wrong. Prepare ahead of your trip by deciding what you will do if you find yourself in an unsafe situation. And always, always, buy travel insurance.

Is it part of a bigger problem?

I assessed several digitally initiated scam categories in this book. While my main case study focused on Airbnb, the problem of delusive speech online isn’t unique to this platform. Delusive speech is now carried by all major tech platforms integral to everyday life.

Read more: How Airbnb is reshaping our cities

In the book, I also highlight how scammers operate in every corner of the internet, including dating apps like Grindr, Tinder and Hinge; ride-sharing services like Uber, Lyft and Bolt; travel sites like Booking.com and Hotels.com; and social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram and YouTube, among others.

I hope that these examples will boost awareness of the risks of using these apps and sites.

– Airbnb scams: new book explores thriving criminal activity on big tech platforms
– https://theconversation.com/airbnb-scams-new-book-explores-thriving-criminal-activity-on-big-tech-platforms-256806