Category: Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Suleman Lazarus, Visiting Fellow, Mannheim Centre for Criminology, London School of Economics and Political Science

Forced labour in cybercrime might call to mind scam compounds in south-east Asia. A growing body of scholarship, journalism and policy attention has entrenched that stereotype. Images of fortified compounds, armed guards and confiscated passports are shaping how courts worldwide interpret cybercriminal participation.

But new research challenges that template. There are different kinds of coercion.

Physical coercion is visible: locked doors, armed guards, confiscated documents. Spiritual or psychological coercion is invisible: the fear of consequences no one can see, but many believe. One restrains the body. The other restrains the mind. The outcome is the same.

I have studied the sociocultural dimensions of cybercrime for over a decade, with particular expertise in online fraud, digital deception, cybercriminal networks, human trafficking and the experiences of fraud victims.

In my most recent work as a cybercrime researcher I looked at a cybercrime training academy in Nigeria, one of the underground schools that recruit and train young men in digital fraud. In a recent study on coercion I show how control, pressure and exploitation can operate within these illicit training spaces.

For the research I drew on three sources: conviction case files (court judgments, charge sheets, witness statements, exhibits); conversations with three officers directly involved in the investigation and prosecution; and courtroom observations of all 12 defendants’ proceedings.

I found that west African cybercrime is not always a free choice.

Understanding what drives recruitment into cybercrime academies is not a defence of fraud, which does great harm. It is a precondition for dismantling it.

What is a hustle kingdom?

Internet fraudsters use the term “hustle kingdoms” to describe their own illicit schools. Our analysis of Nigerian conviction case files, supplemented by ethnographic research and officer interviews, revealed that hustle kingdoms are semi-structured cybercrime academies, operating covertly in Nigerian and Ghanaian cities. They have hierarchies, curricula, and a governing authority known as the “chairman”. Learners are trained in hacking, romance fraud and business email compromise schemes. No upfront fees are charged. Instead, a percentage of scam earnings is extracted later, creating a debt-like arrangement from day one.

Recruits are typically young men aged 16 to 32, most with only secondary education. They enter through social networks, via friends, relatives, or opportunistic recruiters. One 18-year-old explained simply:

I did not pay any money to join the academy.

These academies did not emerge randomly. When formal routes to education and employment are blocked, young people seek alternatives. A sociologist, Robert K. Merton, calls this “innovation”: pursuing culturally endorsed goals, such as financial success, through illegitimate but accessible means.

Hustle kingdoms exploit that gap deliberately, offering free training where universities charge fees that most families cannot afford. Poverty, youth unemployment, and absent social welfare systems are the soil in which these schools grow.

Coercion without chains

These findings come from my analysis of 12 Economic and Financial Crimes Commission case files, specifically witness statements and court testimony in Nigeria. Hustle kingdom learners were not locked up, yet they could not leave. Movement was restricted to narrow, authorised purposes. Communication with the outside world was banned. Food was provided, but money and information about earnings were withheld. One 25-year-old recalled being told that food was free, calls were not permitted, and his percentage would only be disclosed after money was collected.

An 18-year-old learner is recorded in the case files as saying:

We were warned not to leave or contact anyone during the training. The chairman swore that both the person and their family would suffer lasting spiritual harm.

This is layered control, not visible captivity. Each mechanism reinforces the others. Isolation prevents learners from verifying whether threats are real. Financial dependency removes the practical means to exit. Spiritual intimidation seals the architecture.

The spiritual threats centred on juju, a traditional west African practice with deep roots in healing and community life. Within the hustle kingdom, however, it was deliberately weaponised.

The chairman invoked juju oaths to bind learners to compliance. Because belief in ancestral spiritual power is widely shared, these threats carry genuine coercive weight. Scholars describe this as “escapelessness”: the belief that nobody evades spiritual consequence. Similar dynamics have been documented in Nigerian sex-trafficking networks operating across Europe, including Italy and France.

Policy and justice implications

Comparing the case file evidence against existing frameworks on trafficking and coercion, we identified four areas where current responses fall short. Current criminal justice frameworks tend to draw a binary: either someone is a voluntary offender, or a trafficked victim. The hustle kingdom evidence does not fit neatly into either box. Learners entered with aspirations. They also faced escalating constraints that restricted exit, communication and economic autonomy. Participation shifted along a continuum, from initial aspiration toward gradual entrapment.

Treating individuals as fully voluntary offenders carries real costs. Sentences may be disproportionate to the actual agency. Victim-offender overlap goes unrecognised. Rehabilitation programmes designed for willing offenders miss the mark entirely. They assume the participant chose freely. A learner who entered under spiritual threat, financial dependency and restricted movement has a fundamentally different profile. The programme addresses the wrong problem.

The evidence supports more differentiated responses to cybercrime participation across west Africa:

Sentencing: Judges should weigh evidence of movement restrictions, communication bans and spiritual threats when assessing culpability, not dismiss them as cultural colour.

Rehabilitation: Practitioners must learn to identify coerced participants at the assessment stage. Spiritual intimidation is a real constraint on agency.

Prevention: Effective intervention must address structural drivers, including youth unemployment, blocked educational access, and the absence of social safety nets.

Law enforcement: Property owners who lease premises to cybercrime academies without due diligence are indirect enablers. Legislation should extend accountability beyond direct participants.

Why this matters now

Cybercrime is one of Africa’s most rapidly expanding criminal threats, generating estimated annual losses of US$3 billion continent-wide. Similarly, cybercrime enforcement is accelerating across Africa south of the Sahara. Classification decisions made today will harden into judicial precedent. If coercion is only recognised when it looks like a south-east Asian scam compound, constrained actors across west Africa will be sentenced as if they had chosen freely.

Understanding it better could make sentencing proportionate and rehabilitation effective. The structural conditions that feed recruitment into these academies also need to be addressed.

– Forced labour in West African cybercrime academies: how fear traps young men
– https://theconversation.com/forced-labour-in-west-african-cybercrime-academies-how-fear-traps-young-men-283661

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Ntshengedzeni Evans Netshivhambe, Lecturer, University of South Africa

Being an elderly person in South Africa presents a range of challenges. Apartheid shaped diverse experiences of ageing and elderly care along racial and ethnic lines. In the post-apartheid era, however, these patterns have begun to change.

Black elderly people are now more likely than before to live in old-age homes, particularly those who have pension funds from previous employment. There are also community centres that provide daytime care for elderly people through meals and social gatherings.

Hlanganani Malamulele Society for the Aged in Giyani, Limpopo province, is one of these daycare centres. It provides food packages and musical activities to support the elderly and help them cope with loneliness and stress. Giyani is a largely rural area in the northern region of South Africa, mostly occupied by the Tsonga people.

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Read more: South African study shows how unhealthy ageing takes its toll on health and income

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As a lecturer in indigenous African music at the University of South Africa, I was working with a musician, Agness Mabasa, and came to know about her regular performances for the elderly at this community centre. Mrs Mabasa performs on the xitende, lugube and tshihwana, which are all traditional bow instruments.

I was interested in understanding the impact of music on the wellbeing of the elderly people at the centre, particularly those who participate in choir singing and those who engage with the music as listeners.

Other researchers have highlighted the role of music in a holistic approach to promoting a good life for the elderly. Music has been found to act as a catalyst for participation, interaction and personal expression, helping people take an active role in their own wellbeing. In the African context, in particular, music is deeply rooted in the historical and cultural origins of health and wellbeing.

My research employed interviews, music and lyrical analysis, and a literature review to examine how gatherings at the Hlanganani centre contribute to the happiness, mood and overall wellbeing of elderly participants. They told me that singing, performing and listening to indigenous instruments together made them feel healthy and well. Music connected, entertained and comforted them.

Singing and remembering

The Hlanganani centre provides food parcels and activities like crafting and choir singing. I attended two performance sessions there and interviewed 30 people, mostly women, aged between 60 and 84, in 2022. We discussed the music in groups and in individual interviews.

My first visit began with the elderly choir performing two choral pieces as a gesture of welcome. Members explained that some serve as choir conductors, composers and lead singers. I learned that participation in choir activities has given them opportunities to travel for performances and competitions, which motivate them to remain actively involved in the choir. Participants also reported that attending and participating in musical performances together positively affects their mood and overall sense of well-being.

One told me:

Through singing and dancing, our bodies become more active and engaged.

Another said:

We rarely fall ill when we look forward to coming to the centre to connect with others, sing and listen to music.

Mrs Mabasa entertained the group with performances on indigenous instruments. She also told stories about memories and experiences connected to the songs she performed. Most of these were community songs that reflected on the participants’ earlier lives and shared social experiences. Some songs evoked memories of their youth, bringing smiles and laughter to the elderly audience. The songs’ themes included experiences of marriage in earlier times, and the realities of living with in-laws.

One of the songs she plays is Ni Landa John a Xitandani, the story of a woman waiting for her husband who has gone to seek work far away. It’s an experience many of her audience have shared. Another song she performed during my visit was Nonyana Wa Dura, Ntlhanu Wa Makume, with humorous lyrics about the high bridal price of women at the time when many of the audience were teenagers.

Through these musical performances and narratives, the songs revived memories among the elderly and created moments of joy and social connection, encouraging them to look forward to attending the centre each day.

Said one:

When we sing and listen to these traditional songs, their melodies stay with us even after we leave the centre.

During the interviews, many elderly participants stated that the centre contributes positively to their emotional well-being and helps them maintain a happier state of mind. They explained that when alone at home, they often spend long periods reflecting on personal challenges and difficulties.

The centre owner told me:

Many elderly individuals grapple with concerns beyond their control, leading to stress and anxiety.

However, when they gather with their peers at the centre, they feel emotionally supported, develop a stronger sense of belonging, and enjoy social interaction.

One told me:

Boredom is no longer our greatest concern because, as individuals with few or no remaining relatives, we often find ourselves overthinking and feeling like a burden to others. Some people are even reluctant to cook for us, but at the centre, we receive proper meals and care.

The participants also indicated that remaining alone at home may leave them vulnerable to crime, like theft of their pension money.

Music uplifts and connects

The findings demonstrate that a centre like Hlanganani (which means “come together”) can play an important role in improving the well-being of elderly people, particularly those living in communities affected by poverty and high unemployment rates.

The study further shows that music, especially music that has formed part of the elderly participants’ lived experiences over time, contributes to emotional well-being and an improved quality of life. Through musical participation, shared memories and social engagement, the elderly can experience comfort, joy and a renewed sense of community.

– How traditional music helps the elderly in a South African care centre
– https://theconversation.com/how-traditional-music-helps-the-elderly-in-a-south-african-care-centre-284164

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Nana Kesse, Assistant Professor of History, Clark University

The transatlantic slave trade was a multilayered, highly commercialised global enterprise that lasted from the early 1500s to the mid 1800s.

The events over this period are far too complex to fit into a straightforward perpetrator-victim narrative. While the trade catastrophically dehumanised and commodified over 12.5 million Africans, it was not just an external conquest.

Europeans lacked the geographical knowledge, immunity to endemic tropical diseases, and the military power to venture into the African interior. So they became dependent on African states and merchant elites for the supply of captives.

By controlling coastal ports, regulating market access, and managing the interior trade routes that brought captives to the coast, these African brokers enabled and shaped the European trade in human beings.

Yet, this internal participation was rarely uniform. While certain powerful African societies and groups largely procured captives from weaker communities through warfare or raids, a few centralised African states chose neither to fully participate in nor completely abstain from the slave trade.

One such society was the Kingdom of Appolonia (today known as the Nzema State) in the southwestern Gold Coast (present-day Ghana). Throughout the four centuries of Atlantic slavery, Appolonia traded only 352 captives while other Gold Coast towns like Elmina and Cape Coast each shipped hundreds of thousands of enslaved people.

As a historian of west Africa, particularly Ghana, specialising in environmental and water history as well as the slave trade, I have spent nearly a decade researching Appolonia’s role in the Atlantic slave trade. My recent study reveals that Appolonia was the only port region on the Gold Coast where the Atlantic slave trade did not thrive, although indigenous African slavery was practised in the kingdom. Appolonia stands out as a statistical and geographical outlier within the slave trade economy.

Appolonia’s story raises several critical questions. Why did the kingdom trade so few enslaved people? Why is it important to study regions of Africa where the slave trade was less dominant? And what do outliers like Appolonia teach us about historical and reparative justice?

Appolonia in historical context

Appolonia is an Akan society in southwestern Ghana, located at the border with Côte d’Ivoire. The Portuguese named this region after Saint Appolonia, an Egyptian Christian virgin, because they discovered the area on her festival day.

The region was made up of small villages that came together to establish the Appolonian Kingdom in the late 1600s. It was here that Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah, was born in 1909.

The founding of the Appolonian Kingdom coincided with other grand historical developments on the Gold Coast. These include the rise of the Asante Kingdom to superpower status and the transformation of the region into a centre for the Atlantic slave trade.

These events drew Appolonia into the larger Atlantic economy. However, Appolonia was probably the only Gold Coast society that effectively said “no” to the Atlantic slave trade.

Saying “no” did not mean a complete abstinence. The 352 enslaved individuals that Appolonia shipped account for 0.0028% of the Africans transported across the Atlantic Ocean. My intention is not to reduce these precious lives to mere statistics. Rather, I aim to show that, in percentage terms, Appolonia’s involvement in the trade was minimal.

To illustrate this point, let’s examine some comparative data.

The table displays slave exports from various regions of the Gold Coast. This information was obtained from the SlaveVoyages database, compiled over decades by various researchers in an international collaborative effort. It offers statistics on enslaved individuals shipped from Africa and those who survived the journey.

For instance, in the 18th-century Gold Coast, port towns like Anomabo recorded 168,348 slave exports, Cape Coast 100,434 and Elmina 85,636 – compared with Appolonia’s 352.

Consider the figures alongside the historical population densities of these areas.

During the 1700s, Anomabu had approximately 8,750 inhabitants; yet a staggering 168,348 captives were shipped from there. This indicates significant slave trading. Similarly, Cape Coast and Elmina had projected populations of around 5,000 and 25,000 residents, yet recorded high slave exports.

Appolonia, on the other hand, had an estimated population of 15,600-19,600 inhabitants but traded only 352.

What this means

Why did Appolonia trade so few enslaved people? Using demographic database analysis, European archival records, and oral histories, my research suggests two main reasons.

First, Appolonia was not a slaving society. Its economy depended rather on the gold and ivory trade.

Second, the kingdom implemented policies, such as the amonle covenant, that prevented the sale of Appolonian subjects. Amonle was a sacred ritual involving human sacrifice of Appolonian royals and the mixing of their blood with a special herbal concoction. It was then drunk by both Appolonian rulers and migrants who settled in the kingdom.

This powerful ritual served as the binding oath against selling Appolonian locals and refugees, cursing anyone who broke the oath. This policy undermined any internal system for producing enslaved people within the kingdom for sale.

The question of reparations

Appolonia’s story further complicates our understanding and approach to seeking historical justice and reparations for the slave trade. It is one thing for a known victim to demand justice and reparations from an identifiable perpetrator, whether through symbolic acts like an apology, or through monetary compensation.

It’s a different matter when the identities of both the victim and the perpetrator are unknown – or when the perpetrator and the victim are one and the same. Who dispenses reparations to whom?

In the case of Appolonia, we do not know the identities of the 352 victims exported, nor have scholars, including myself, been able to trace these captives to a specific African homeland.

We have not found historical records indicating that the people of Appolonia captured or purchased these individuals for resale. Given this context, should Appolonia be expected to offer reparations? If yes, to whom?

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Read more: Slavery reparations: why the West is morally bound to pay them

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Conversely, is it ethically justifiable for Appolonia to seek reparative justice from the unknown Europeans who purchased the 352 captives?

Appolonia’s story complicates the call for reparative justice. However, it does not contradict the landmark March 2026 United Nations resolution officially declaring the transatlantic slave trade as the “gravest crime against humanity”. For the slave trade is indeed the most violent and catastrophic of the many atrocities committed against Africans and African descended people.

– Appolonia: the story of an African kingdom that resisted the Atlantic slave trade
– https://theconversation.com/appolonia-the-story-of-an-african-kingdom-that-resisted-the-atlantic-slave-trade-282102