Category: MIL-OSI

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Sarah Venter, Baobab Ecologist, University of the Witwatersrand

Baobabs aren’t supposed to fall. They can live for up to 2,500 years. Famous for their resilience, these huge trees have stood tall across Africa, weathering droughts and winds that flatten everything else.

A small population of 102 baobabs is also found in Oman on the south-eastern tip of the Arabian Peninsula, where baobabs were introduced over 1,500 years ago by traders from Africa.

However, several baobabs have recently collapsed and died in Oman, not from disease, drought or old age, but from infestation by a beetle that has suddenly proven deadly to baobab trees – the mango stem-borer (Batocera rufomaculata).

I’m a baobab ecologist who worked with two environmental scientists from Oman, Ali Salem Musallm Akaak and Mohammed Mubarak Suhail Akaak, to investigate how many trees had been infected by the beetle, how the infestation had affected the trees and how many had died as a result.

We surveyed 91 baobab trees in Oman and found that six had been killed by the beetle. A further 12 baobab trees were infested by the beetle’s larvae.

This is the first time that an insect has been found to kill adult baobab trees. The same beetle is known to damage and kill other species of trees.

Our findings have important implications for the conservation and management of baobabs throughout Africa. The mango-borer beetle has not been found in mainland Africa yet but it may become a new threat to baobabs if it disperses.

Our findings allow for early detection as well as research into effective ways to control the beetle before it spreads to Africa.

If the mango stem-borer were to reach mainland Africa, where the baobab is considered a keystone species, it could devastate both ecosystems and livelihoods. Baobabs have over 300 uses for people, including fibre made from the bark, food from the leaves and the fruit, which is harvested for its nutritious pulp and sold in local and global markets.

Meet the killer

The mango stem-borer is native to south-east Asia. Adults live for only two to three months, feeding on shoots and bark. During that time females can lay up to 200 eggs, cutting small slits in tree bark and sealing each egg inside.

The grubs or larvae spend almost a year hidden within the wood, tunnelling through the living tissue that carries water and nutrients. As they feed, they weaken the tree and eventually kill it.

This beetle has long been one of Asia’s most damaging fruit-tree pests. It attacks mango, jackfruit, mulberry and fig trees, often killing mature hosts. It spread to the Middle East, where it was first recorded in 1950 and has damaged fig plantations.

In 2021, an adult baobab in Wadi Hinna, a semi-arid valley in Oman’s Dhofar Mountains, collapsed and died. When researchers examined the fallen trunk, they discovered it was infested by mango stem-borer larvae.

By 2025, seven baobabs had died, and many more were infected, confirming that a seemingly innocuous fruit-tree pest had found a new host.

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Read more: Madagascar’s ancient baobab forests are being restored by communities – with a little help from AI

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The very qualities that make baobabs extraordinary survivors in dry climates also make them ideal nurseries for borer beetle larvae. Their stored water, soft trunks and nutrient rich tissue feed and protect larvae for nearly a year until they mature.

As the larvae feed, they hollow out the interior of the baobab, leaving the outer bark intact and the infestation hidden, until the stem suddenly collapses.

Battling the beetle

When the first deaths were recorded, Oman’s Environment Authority launched an emergency control programme with help from local communities and researchers.

Infested trees were treated with systemic insecticides, larvae were manually removed from trunks, and light traps were set to attract and kill adult beetles at night. Tree stems were also coated with agricultural lime and fungicide to deter further egg-laying.

These actions seem to have slowed the outbreak, but they are labour-intensive and feasible only for a small area. Across a continent, such methods would be impossible to maintain.

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Read more: The secret life of baobabs: how bats and moths keep Africa’s giant trees alive

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In Asia, scientists have identified natural enemies of the mango stem-borer, including parasitic mites and nematodes. These could be used as the base of a long-term biological control strategy.

My research argues that using biological control to stop the beetle reproducing must be developed as a priority before infestations cross into Africa.

Preventing a spread to Africa

Adult beetles can fly up to 14 kilometres in a single night, and global trade makes it easy for insects to cross borders unnoticed, hidden in plants and ornamentals destined for the agriculture and garden sector.

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Read more: Baobab trees all come from Madagascar – new study reveals that their seeds and seedlings floated to mainland Africa and all the way to Australia

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The beetle already occurs on islands such as Madagascar, Réunion and Mauritius. Baobab researchers do not know if the mango stem-borer has attacked the local baobab populations of Madagascar, where the trees are an indigenous plant.

Early detection and prevention are far cheaper, and far more effective, than trying to stop an outbreak once it begins. Stronger biosecurity inspections and other measures are needed at African ports and borders to stop the beetle crossing borders, particularly in shipments of wood and live plants.

Collaboration between research institutions, agricultural departments and the baobab industry will also help: sharing data, testing biological controls and setting up monitoring systems before further outbreaks occur.

A warning – and an opportunity

The death of baobabs in Oman is more than a localised problem. It’s a warning of what could happen elsewhere if the beetle spreads unchecked.

But it also offers a chance to prepare. If African countries act now, tightening biosecurity, supporting research and raising awareness, they can protect one of the continent’s most iconic and life-sustaining trees before this threat ever reaches African shores.

– Killer beetles in the baobabs: researcher warns of risk to African trees
– https://theconversation.com/killer-beetles-in-the-baobabs-researcher-warns-of-risk-to-african-trees-275715

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Siviwe Malongweni, Research Scientist, Sol Plaatje University

Mesquite (Neltuma juliflora), a woody plant native to parts of South America, was introduced into South Africa’s drylands in the 1880s with good intentions.

Bringing it to South Africa was meant to stabilise soils, provide shade, and offer a source of fuelwood in some of the country’s most water-limited landscapes. But today, particularly in the Northern Cape province, it’s a clear example of how an introduced species can quietly transform ecosystems, livelihoods and local climates in ways that are difficult and costly to reverse.

Across the Northern Cape’s arid and semi-arid rangelands, mesquite has spread extensively along riverbanks, floodplains and grazing areas. Unlike many indigenous plants that lie dormant during dry periods, mesquite remains active year-round. Its deep root system allows it to extract water from far below the surface, steadily depleting soil moisture and groundwater reserves.

I am an environmental and climate scientist in the Northern Cape, where agriculture contributes about 8% of the provincial GDP and employs roughly 16% of the workforce. My work focuses on addressing invasive species, land degradation and climate impacts to protect ecosystems, support rural livelihoods and strengthen the regional economy.

My team and I conducted research into the effect that invasive mesquite has had on the soils in this dry area of South Africa.

We found that mesquite drains moisture and nutrients from the soil, making it hard for other plants to grow. The dense roots and thick canopy also reduce water availability for livestock and people, while the soil becomes compacted and less fertile. All of this together makes farming much more difficult and threatens local livelihoods.

What the science shows

Our study compared soils from mesquite-invaded areas with those from nearby uninvaded rangelands. Our findings show striking differences.

In mesquite-dominated landscapes, soils tended to hold less moisture, had altered nutrient balances and displayed changes in physical structure compared with soils under native vegetation.

This may not sound dramatic at first, but soil moisture and nutrient balance are foundational to how ecosystems function. Soil that stays moist supports grass growth. Grass protects soil from erosion, feeds livestock, and keeps water in the landscape. When mesquite replaces grass with dense thickets, that entire cascade of benefits begins to unravel.

Mesquite roots dig deep and draw water year-round. Where native plants go dormant in dry seasons, mesquite continues to transpire (release water from its leaves), reducing soil moisture. Over time, this leads to drier soils that struggle to support the plants crucial for grazing and wildlife.

The outcome is a quieter, slower form of ecosystem change; one that doesn’t always show up in dramatic headlines but that steadily degrades land and undermines livelihoods dependent on healthy soil.

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Read more: How South Africa’s second most invasive tree can be managed better

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Why this matters for climate and livelihoods

Soil and climate are intimately connected. Dryland systems like the Northern Cape are already vulnerable to climate change due to hotter temperatures, more erratic rainfall and longer droughts. In this context, invasive species with high drought tolerance gain an edge. Mesquite, which is native to Central and South America, thrives where native vegetation falters. But that advantage comes at a cost of reduced water availability for human consumption, agricultural use and wildlife, altered carbon cycles and increased land degradation.

For pastoralist communities and smallholder farmers, the effects are tangible. Our team carried out a skills assessment and facilitated workshops in collaboration with the Northern Cape provincial government and the International Union for Conservation of Nature, and documented evidence of these impacts (it is not yet online).

Livestock grazing depends on grass cover. Our direct observations and assessments in the Northern Cape show that as mesquite thickets grow, grazing land shrinks. Farmers find themselves forced to reduce herd sizes or travel longer distances for forage. Over time, income declines, pressure on household food security increases, and people become more vulnerable to climatic and economic shocks.

The human dimension

The invasion of mesquite isn’t just an ecological problem; it’s a social one. Reduced grazing and degraded land translate into fewer resources for families that depend on livestock. In regions where economic opportunities are already limited, this can exacerbate inequality, increase rural poverty and push people towards unsustainable coping strategies.

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Read more: Nearly 25% of land in Africa has been damaged – what’s to blame, and what can be done

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In our ongoing research, communities across the Northern Cape have told us similar stories: land that used to support healthy herds now supports thorny thickets that livestock avoid; water points dry faster; and the rhythm of life shifts as people adapt to a changed landscape. These are not abstract scientific outcomes; they are lived experiences.

Yet, amid these challenges, there are also opportunities.

Repurposing pathways for mesquite

The same biological traits that make mesquite a problem can also be harnessed for benefit, if approached thoughtfully. Mesquite pods are rich in sugars and have been used as supplementary livestock feed in dry seasons. They could also potentially be used for flour and baking, natural sweeteners, coffee substitutes, snacks, and traditional medicine for regulating blood sugar. The wood is dense and burns hot, making it valuable for charcoal and energy. Craft industries can use mesquite timber for artisanal products, creating potential income streams for rural communities. Mesquite biomass can be processed into low-carbon, climate-adaptive building materials with a net negative carbon footprint, and into biochar that can be used to restore degraded soils after invasive species removal.

The key is to repurpose eradicated mesquite in support of ecological restoration. Overharvesting without a plan can worsen the situation if it encourages regrowth or fails to address underlying ecosystem changes. But when combined with targeted clearing and rehabilitation, utilisation can be part of a broader, sustainable strategy.

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Read more: Black wattle as firewood: how South African communities are putting invasive species to work

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What needs to happen next

Clearing mesquite is possible, but expensive. Mechanical removal requires labour, machinery and follow-up work to prevent regrowth. If land is cleared but not rehabilitated, grasses and native vegetation may struggle to return because the soil has already changed. That means investment must be long-term, not just a one-off effort.

South Africa needs an integrated approach that includes:

• early detection and mapping

• community-led clearing and rehabilitation, so that efforts are sustained and rooted in local knowledge

• soil restoration efforts, reintroducing native grasses and shrubs

• economic integration, developing value chains for mesquite products

• climate-responsive planning and land management that improves water retention and soil health.

Mesquite invasion in the Northern Cape is more than a botanical curiosity. It is a transformation of land that affects soil, water, climate resilience and human wellbeing. The research on soil properties makes it clear that the impacts are real and measurable, but it also points to pathways for action.

– Invasive mesquite plants do more than deplete water reserves – new research in South Africa shows they damage soil too
– https://theconversation.com/invasive-mesquite-plants-do-more-than-deplete-water-reserves-new-research-in-south-africa-shows-they-damage-soil-too-274126

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Lyla Latif, Co-Founder & Research Lead, Committee on Fiscal Studies, University of Nairobi

Public finance, or how governments at all levels raise and allocate money, is in evidence everywhere you look. That pothole destroying your car. The health clinic without medicine. The dilapidated school. Public money is not government money. It is yours, writes Kenyan finance scholar Lyla Latif in her new book Governing Public Money. Drawing on a decade of experience across 32 countries, the author sets out what ails Africa’s public finances and what could change. The Conversation Africa asked her about the book’s main themes.

What prompted you to write this book?

Most books on public finance are written by men, from institutions in the global north, about systems designed in the global north. There is not a single comprehensive treatment of public finance law focused on Kenya or, for that matter, on any African country. I wanted to change that.

But the deeper motivation was a question that had been forming across more than a decade of working inside fiscal systems. As an international tax expert and scholar, I have spent years watching how public money actually moves: through revenue authorities and treasury departments, through regional customs unions and international treaty negotiations, through county governments and sovereign debt markets.

What struck me is that everyone assumes they know what public finance is. Fewer people understand how it is governed, and fewer still appreciate how profoundly interconnected its parts are. That interconnectedness is what the book’s 11 chapters try to capture. Revenue policy shapes debt sustainability. Debt sustainability constrains budgeting. Budgeting determines what devolution can deliver. Regional integration reshapes revenue options. International treaty regimes limit domestic policy space. Technology transforms administration. Corruption corrodes everything.

No single chapter can be understood in isolation, just as no fiscal challenge can be solved in isolation.

The final chapter examines Islamic public finance. Here, I discuss:

• zakat, a mandatory wealth based contribution used to support social welfare

• waqf, an endowment dedicated to public benefit such as education or health

• sukuk, asset backed Islamic financial certificates often compared to bonds but structured without interest.

I argue that these are fiscal institutions within a legal tradition that colonial administration suppressed but never displaced. Writing that chapter felt like an act of intellectual justice.

What are the key messages on public finance?

The book opens with a memory. During the frequent power cuts of my childhood in Nairobi, my father would gather us around candles and draw. One evening he sketched a woman carrying water on her head and a child on her back, walking toward a distant horizon.

I did not then understand that the darkness itself was fiscal: the consequence of under-investment, deferred maintenance, and policy choices that left entire communities without reliable electricity. That image captures the book’s central argument. Public finance is not a technical subject confined to treasury officials and economists. It is the means through which societies either raise living standards or entrench dependence.

Every unbuilt school, every underfunded clinic, every collapsed road is a fiscal failure before it is anything else. And every act of governance, from defending a nation’s borders to delivering clean water, ultimately resolves into a fiscal question.

The book argues that law does not merely regulate public finance; it constitutes it. The authority to tax, to borrow, to spend, and to hold officials accountable derives from legal instruments. Kenya’s 2010 constitution devotes an entire chapter to public finance, establishing principles of equity, transparency and public participation. These are not decorative provisions. They are the architecture through which fiscal power is authorised, constrained and contested.

Yet the book is equally insistent that legal frameworks do not determine outcomes. The gap between what constitutions promise and what citizens experience is shaped by political economy: by who holds power, whose interests prevail, and what international forces constrain domestic choices.

How is Africa disadvantaged in the international fiscal system?

Africa’s disadvantage is not accidental or temporary. It reflects a continuing structure shaped by history and reproduced through modern international rules. Colonial fiscal systems were designed for extraction, not development.

In Kenya, the Native Hut and Poll Tax Ordinance of 1910 compelled African populations into wage labour to meet obligations denominated in colonial currency. Revenue was directed towards the Uganda Railway and export corridors serving London rather than towards African education or health.

As Kenyan scholars George Ndege, Ahmed Mohiddin and I have documented, colonial administrations relied on indirect taxes that fell hardest on African populations. They directed expenditure towards export infrastructure serving metropolitan markets and concentrated authority in executive hands with minimal accountability.

Independence brought formal sovereignty but did not dismantle the international architecture within which African fiscal governance operates. Tax treaties, negotiated primarily among developed countries, allocate taxing rights in ways that systematically favour capital exporters. The status quo allows multinational enterprises to derive substantial income from African markets without triggering source country taxation.

Investment treaties expose African governments to billion dollar arbitration claims when they adjust fiscal policy. Trade agreements constrain tariff choices that might support industrial development. African countries have been positioned as passive recipients of rules rather than their authors. The frameworks that govern cross border taxation, sovereign debt restructuring and investment protection were designed in forums where African states had little or no voice.

For over 60 years, the rules governing cross border taxation have been written principally within the OECD, a body of wealthy capital-exporting states where African countries had no seat.

Thanks to African advocacy, a new UN Framework Convention on International Tax Cooperation adopted in 2023 is changing that. The convention creates space for binding obligations on cross border services, digital economy taxation and illicit financial flows. These are areas where voluntary frameworks have consistently failed the continent.

This represents the most significant shift in international tax governance in decades.

African states are beginning to write rules rather than merely absorb them.

What could countries and citizens change?

The most consequential shift would be for African countries to look inward. That means confronting the revenue gap that defines African fiscal governance. The continent’s average tax-to-GDP ratio remains below 16%, well beneath what is needed to fund basic public goods without chronic dependence on external financing.

This requires building professionally independent revenue authorities, transparent public financial management, and the political will to tax wealth and rents that elite capture has long shielded. It also means developing indigenous fiscal scholarship rather than importing policy knowledge from Washington, Paris and Geneva.

Looking inward is not autarky, meaning a withdrawal into economic self sufficiency and disengagement from global exchange. Rather, it is about consolidating internal clarity and capacity so that engagement outward happens on African terms. My colleague Daniel Nuer, a senior official at the Ghana Revenue Authority, once said to me:

If Africa starts looking inward, every non-African state will be forced to comply with African approaches.

There is a quiet but powerful logic in that observation. When African countries strengthen domestic revenue mobilisation, they reduce dependence on aid and on borrowing from international markets on terms set by creditors. When they build effective tax administrations, they create the institutional capacity that underpins state legitimacy.

When they coordinate regionally, such as through the East African Community or the African Continental Free Trade Area, they create the scale that individual economies cannot achieve alone. As African revenue systems become more effective, the current international architecture, built on the assumption that developing countries will remain rule takers, becomes unsustainable.

A continent that mobilises its own resources, governs its own debt, and taxes its own digital economy does not need to accept frameworks designed elsewhere for the benefit of others. That is not merely a hope. In 2024, African states voted for a multilateral tax convention over the opposition of the world’s wealthiest countries. The African Continental Free Trade Area is building the coordinated market that no single African economy can sustain alone.

But fiscal sovereignty does not emerge in ideal conditions. It must contend with structural pressures that continue to narrow policy space. Sovereign debt repayments are absorbing resources that should be financing development, while illicit financial flows drain more from the continent each year than it receives in aid. What is shaping Africa’s fiscal future, then, is not the abstract market logics often associated with Adam Smith, but deliberate political choices about how public money is governed and how power over it is exercised.

Consequently, citizens have a role that extends beyond compliance. The fiscal contract between state and citizen depends on both sides. Governments must mobilise resources equitably and deploy them transparently. Citizens must demand accountability and participate in the budget processes that constitutions – such as Kenya’s – now require.

Civil society organisations and investigative journalists have proven essential in exposing fiscal failures that formal institutions missed. The work ahead is neither simple nor quick. But the direction is clear. African fiscal governance must be built from African foundations, informed by African needs, and accountable to African citizens. That is what governing public money should mean.

– Africa’s public finances are in a mess: a new book explains why and what to do
– https://theconversation.com/africas-public-finances-are-in-a-mess-a-new-book-explains-why-and-what-to-do-275761