Category: The Conversation

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Jan Nyssen, Professor of Geography, Ghent University

The northern highlands of Ethiopia are among Africa’s oldest agricultural landscapes. Some of the world’s most important crops originated here, particularly pulses and grains, including teff. Yet another crop has a less well-known history in Ethiopia’s Tigray region: the grapevine.

We are an interdisciplinary team of geographers, agronomists and archaeologists studying long-term interactions between agriculture, landscapes and society in Ethiopia. Archaeological discoveries from the ancient Aksumite kingdom, in what’s now Ethiopia, include grape seeds, wine vessels, rock-cut wine presses, and historical records showing that grapes were cultivated in antiquity. We wanted to find out whether any of today’s grapevines could be descendants of those early introductions.

Our research set out to investigate whether traces of an ancient grape-growing tradition still survived in the region or not.

Unlike the vineyards of the Mediterranean, Tigray’s grapevines are grown in household compounds, village gardens and church grounds. Families eat the grapes fresh, share them with neighbours, donate bunches to Orthodox churches and value the vines for the shade they provide during the dry season. Many vines have been propagated from cuttings exchanged between families over generations rather than purchased commercially.

Our findings show a complex heritage shaped by long-term smallholder management, cultural practices and geographic isolation in remote villages. Our research suggests that these grapevines trace part of their ancestry to introductions during the Aksumite era (around 150 BCE-800 CE), probably linked to ancient Greek-influenced eastern Mediterranean and Red Sea trade networks. Their genetic makeup was later influenced by hybridisation with varieties introduced into neighbouring Eritrea during the early 20th century.

We identified a landrace, Rubaksum Tsellim, as a distinct lineage with affinity to Mediterranean varieties. A landrace is a local crop variety maintained by farmers over generations, shaped by selection, exchange and adaptation rather than formal commercial breeding.

In our view, the resilience and productivity of the vines under dryland conditions suggest they may possess traits valuable for climate-resilient viticulture. They can be grown on stony farm plots and stone walls, with manual irrigation. This gives the Tigrayan grapevines genetic as well as historic value.

Gathering the evidence

Our research involved field surveys, farmer interviews, DNA analysis and the study of grape-seed shapes.

The surveys were conducted across four highland areas covering 1,269km². We found 41 vines, which suggests there could be roughly 1,000–1,500 mature vines across the wider region. Rather than growing in vineyards, they are integrated into homesteads as multifunctional plants.

One vine in Rubaksa, a lush, spring-watered village in a secluded valley of the Tembien mountains, attracted particular attention. Local residents could trace its presence back for decades.

We collected leaves for genetic analysis and seeds from dried fruit still on the vine. The plant’s DNA profile showed no match in major international grapevine reference databases we used. Instead, it revealed affinities with traditional grape varieties from the Mediterranean and Caucasus regions. The grape seeds told a similar story. Their shapes most closely resembled those of varieties from Italy, Cyprus and Greece.

Piecing together the clues suggests a distinctive local landrace, shaped by centuries of cultivation and adaptation in Tigray.

We have proposed the name Rubaksum Tsellim for this landrace, which merits conservation and global recognition. The name combines Rubaksa, Aksum, the historical centre of grape cultivation in the region, and the Tigrinya word tsellim (“dark” or “black”).

Owners of the Rubaksum Tsellim grapevine have received a certificate acknowledging the vine’s status as a unique local landrace. The certificates aim to encourage conservation and propagation through cuttings.

A link to ancient trade routes?

Wild grapevines are not native to the Horn of Africa. Any domesticated grapevine growing in northern Ethiopia must have arrived from elsewhere. They were introduced and then adapted locally over many centuries.

But how did they get there? Aksum was the capital of a powerful kingdom that flourished between roughly 150 BCE and 800 CE. Its merchants traded extensively across the Red Sea and Mediterranean, and grapes and wine were already present there in antiquity. Much later, introductions may also have occurred through colonial interventions. Both routes remain plausible. The genetic signals point towards Mediterranean ancestry, while the Rubaksa vine suggests that generations of local farmers subsequently shaped it into something distinct.

Once we had identified the distinctive landrace, we expanded our search to Aksum itself, focusing on the city’s historical quarters. There we found what appears to be the town’s oldest surviving grapevine. Genetic analysis revealed that it shares exactly the same DNA profile as the vine from Rubaksa. The resemblance extended to the seeds; both vines produced seeds that clustered closely with those of Mavro, an ancient grape variety from Cyprus and Crete. The discovery suggests that these seemingly isolated vines may be remnants of a much older grape-growing tradition that once extended across Tigray.

The persistence of the vines around historic settlements, churches and monasteries is consistent with the idea that religious institutions helped preserve grape-growing traditions long after formal viticulture had disappeared.

Why conservation matters now

These vines matter for more than historical reasons. Traditional crop varieties often contain genetic traits lost from commercial agriculture, including characteristics that may help crops tolerate drought, disease and climate change.

Having survived for generations in a semi-arid environment, Tigray’s grapevines may possess adaptations of considerable future value.

Their wider use in local grape production – for example, trained along the many stone terrace walls already present in Tigray’s farmlands – could potentially offer new opportunities for diversification.

The discovery also highlights the crucial role of farmers as custodians of agricultural biodiversity. Without generations of households maintaining and sharing these vines, this unique biocultural heritage might have disappeared.

The risk of extinction is high. The recent Tigray War disrupted rural livelihoods, and farmers in our study reported that many household grapevines were abandoned or died. This is not the first time warfare has threatened Tigray’s grapevines. In the 19th century, the German botanist Wilhelm Schimper also described their decline during a period of conflict.

Some of the vines we documented may be the last surviving plants of unique local lineages. Conserving them would preserve not only valuable genetic diversity but also a living connection between today’s farming communities and ancient agricultural landscapes.

– Tigray’s old grapevines have survived against the odds: new research uncovers their genetic and historic value
– https://theconversation.com/tigrays-old-grapevines-have-survived-against-the-odds-new-research-uncovers-their-genetic-and-historic-value-286393

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Nhlanhla Mpofu, Associate professor, University of Notre Dame Australia

Across Africa, millions of children grow up speaking African languages at home but are later expected to learn through English, French or Portuguese at school. This transition can make learning difficult, particularly when learners are required to understand new concepts in a language they are still developing.

For example, in Namibia, learners switch from mother-tongue instruction to English in Grade 4 at the age of 9 or 10, a change that has been linked to poor reading comprehension and lower academic achievement (though national statistics are not available).

We are education researchers who study teaching and learning in rural contexts, with a particular focus on how the use of multiple languages can support reading comprehension. In a recent study, we looked at what was happening in Namibian primary school classrooms and found something encouraging. When teachers brought learners’ home languages into English reading lessons, children understood texts more deeply, participated more actively in class discussions and became more confident readers. Rather than seeing home languages as barriers to learning English, teachers used them as valuable tools for explaining new vocabulary, discussing ideas and helping learners make sense of what they were reading. As a result, learners were better able to engage with English texts and develop stronger literacy skills.

Our findings show that drawing on learners’ home languages can support the goal of making quality education more accessible. By valuing learners’ linguistic backgrounds, schools can also reduce inequalities and encourage inclusion.

---

Read more: Multilingualism must be celebrated as a resource, not a problem

---

Three practices that transformed reading

Namibia is a country where many languages are spoken. Oshikwanyama, Oshindonga, Khoekhoegowab, Otjiherero and Afrikaans are just some of them. Although English is the official language and is widely used in education and government, most Namibians speak indigenous or local languages in their homes and communities. This linguistic diversity makes Namibia an important context for education research.

Our qualitative case study explored how five teachers in Namibia’s Oshikoto Region used translanguaging to support reading comprehension. Translanguaging means using more than one language in the classroom. These were experienced Grade 4 teachers of English as a second language. Data from classroom observations, interviews and lesson-plan analysis documented teachers’ responses to learners’ transition from mother-tongue instruction to English-medium learning.

We found that all these teachers drew on learners’ home languages, particularly Oshindonga, to support reading comprehension. They did this through three simple but powerful practices:

• using words, pictures and familiar languages to build understanding

• letting children use the language they knew best

• encouraging learners to help one another make sense of difficult texts.

1. Using words, pictures and familiar languages to build understanding

The teachers who participated in our study regularly moved between English and Oshindonga while also using pictures, gestures and visual aids to help learners make sense of what they were reading. Rather than expecting learners to rely on English alone, teachers encouraged them to draw on all the languages they knew to understand new vocabulary and unfamiliar ideas. In some classrooms, learners discussed difficult words in Oshindonga, while others used languages such as Shona, Afrikaans or Portuguese before connecting these ideas back to English.

Understanding a text involves much more than simply recognising words. Learners need to connect new information to what they already know, make sense of unfamiliar concepts and build meaning from the text. Teachers helped learners do this by linking new English vocabulary to familiar words, experiences and ideas from their home languages.

Instead of becoming stuck on unfamiliar English words, they could focus on understanding the ideas in the text. Once they understood the concepts, they were better able to engage with English reading passages.

---

Read more: Learning to read in another language is tough: how Namibian teachers can help kids

---

2. Letting children use the language they know best

The second strategy built on something that is already common in everyday Namibian life. In many communities, people regularly use different languages in the same conversation. For example, a shopkeeper might greet a customer in Afrikaans, the customer might respond in Oshindonga, and someone else might join the conversation in English. Even though different languages are being used, everyone understands the message.

The teachers in our study drew on this familiar way of communicating during reading lessons. One teacher described it this way:

When we are working through a reading passage, I ask questions in English but let them respond in Oshindonga if they are struggling. Then I model the English equivalent, this way they connect the concepts in both languages.

The learner first demonstrates comprehension and then learns how that understanding can be communicated in English.

When learners are required to respond only in English, their limited vocabulary can hide what they understand. By allowing learners to use Oshindonga, teachers discovered that children could discuss the meaning of a text long before they had the English proficiency to do so.

---

Read more: South Africa’s classrooms should have a ‘box’ of languages to help children learn: new bilingual education policy is a start

---

3. Learners helping learners

A third strategy involved learners helping one another make sense of difficult texts. Some learners were more confident in English, while others were stronger in Oshindonga, Afrikaans, Portuguese or Shona.

When learners encountered unfamiliar words or confusing ideas, they discussed them with classmates who could explain the meaning in a language they understood. These conversations helped learners unpack vocabulary, clarify misunderstandings and connect new ideas to their own experiences before returning to the English text.

This approach helped learners focus on meaning rather than individual words. Teachers observed that learners became more confident readers, asked better questions and participated more actively. The many languages spoken in the classroom became a powerful resource for improving reading comprehension.

---

Read more: Thinking aloud: what happens when children read for pleasure in classroom clubs

---

Learning from Namibian classrooms

The lessons from these Namibian classrooms extend far beyond one country. Across Africa, many children are taught in languages different from those spoken at home, creating barriers to learning and literacy development.

Our findings show that children do not have to leave their home languages behind to succeed in English; those languages can be a powerful foundation for learning.

Selma Ndagwedhapo Mufori contributed to this research.

– Why children learn English more easily with the help of their home language – Namibian study
– https://theconversation.com/why-children-learn-english-more-easily-with-the-help-of-their-home-language-namibian-study-287076

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Davies Tsikayi, Lecturer, University of the Witwatersrand

South Africans are getting used to the term “gas cliff” as pressure ramps up for action to be taken ahead of expected gas shortages. Natural gas supplies from Mozambique’s Pande and Temane fields will begin to fall after 2028 as their production declines. The fields have supplied roughly 90% of South Africa’s gas for more than two decades. Mechanical engineer and lecturer Davies Tsikayi sets out why the looming supply shortage poses serious risks for the country.

What’s at stake?

South Africa imports a significant share of the gas it consumes from southern Mozambique. The gas comes from the Pande-Temane fields and moves through the Republic of Mozambique Pipeline Investments Company (Rompco) pipeline into South Africa’s Mpumalanga province.

The gas cliff matters because gas is not simply another fuel in the energy mix. Although natural gas accounts for only about 2.5% of South Africa’s total energy supply, it carries strategic weight.

Roughly 35%-40% of the gas from Pande-Temane is used in Sasol’s Secunda operations, where the South African chemicals and energy company converts coal and natural gas into synthetic fuels and chemical feedstocks.

A further 35%-40% goes to Sasol’s chemicals complex at Sasolburg, where natural gas is used in production processes for chemicals including wax, methanol and ammonia. The balance is distributed to industrial and commercial users.

---

Read more: South Africa will run out of industrial gas by 2028 and 70,000 jobs could be lost – why government fixes are lacking

---

Sasol also sells around 20-23 petajoules of methane-rich gas per year to customers in South Africa, including manufacturers of steel, sugar, paper and pulp, and motors.

This means the gas cliff should be understood not only as an issue of energy supply, but also as a risk in industrial policy, food security and manufacturing competitiveness.

Globally, natural gas provides about 70% of ammonia production and 55%-65% of methanol production. Ammonia underpins fertiliser. Fertiliser underpins food production. Methanol is a building block for chemicals and industrial value chains. In the South African context, gas also keeps furnaces, kilns, boilers and process plants running in sectors such as steel, glass, ceramics, brewing and synthetic fuels.

A reduction in gas supply would therefore require more than a simple fuel switch. Affected firms may need to redesign production processes, install new storage and handling systems, absorb higher operating costs, and, in some cases, shift to alternatives with higher emissions profiles.

The Industrial Gas Users Association of South Africa’s estimate is blunt: alternatives such as liquid petroleum gas (LPG), diesel or electricity could cost between double and five times what users currently pay for gas, before even accounting for the capital cost of conversion.

The implications for industry and jobs are substantial. Industries reliant on this gas supply directly employ around 70,000–100,000 people. Sasol’s wider contribution is even larger: in 2021, its contribution to the South African economy was estimated at about 5% of GDP, supporting roughly 500,000 direct and indirect jobs.

The country may need 300-400 petajoules of gas per year – equivalent to 6-8 million tonnes of liquefied natural gas (LNG) – to meet industrial heating and gas-to-power needs. Consequently, the current supply is simply not enough. Delay, in this context, is not a passive position. It increases the risk of higher prices, a weaker industry and greater energy insecurity.

What needs to be done?

The policy framework and infrastructure needed to import gas are advancing. The draft Gas Master Plan, which identifies Richards Bay in South Africa as a key LNG import location and considers Matola in Mozambique as a regional supply option, has been published. Meanwhile, the terminal projects at both locations have progressed through permitting, and offtake discussions are under way. However, each of these initiatives still requires years of work, while the buffer between the country’s current position and where it needs to be has steadily eroded. The gas cliff is now only a few years away, leaving very little room for further delay.

---

Read more: Gas isn’t a good alternative to coal – South Africa should focus on solar, wind and green hydrogen

---

The first and most urgent option is LNG imports. The independent, non-profit economic research institution Trade and Industry Policy Strategies (TIPS) produced a study in March 2026 on South Africa’s gas landscape. The study makes it clear that South Africa has no choice but to enable LNG imports in the short to medium term. Domestic resources may help later, but they cannot close the near-term gap.

The LNG strategy must be practical, not symbolic. Durban and Richards Bay, two of South Africa’s most important commercial ports (in KwaZulu-Natal), could serve as LNG import terminals, but existing pipeline infrastructure is insufficient to supply inland demand.

South Africa therefore needs a second import route via Mozambique, through the ports of Matola or Inhassoro, to connect into existing infrastructure serving the eastern interior. Matola is already more advanced, with permitting and environmental approvals granted.

The report’s priority is a dual-terminal strategy: one LNG terminal in Mozambique to access Rompco and the inland gas market, and another in KwaZulu-Natal to serve LNG-to-power and KwaZulu-Natal industrial demand. Both must be secured and operational by mid-2030.

Regional and domestic gas sources remain essential but are not immediate saviours. Timelines, cost, distance from infrastructure and regulatory delays mean current domestic resources cannot rescue South Africa before the cliff arrives.

Demand-side measures also matter. Some users may shift to LPG, diesel, electricity, trucked LNG or compressed natural gas (CNG). Biomethane, green hydrogen and electrification may help in time. But the report is realistic: many alternatives are expensive, technically immature, logistically difficult, or higher-emitting. South Africa’s effective carbon tax, rising from R35/tonne (US$2) in 2024 to R115/tonne (US$7) in 2030, will not by itself force wholesale substitution.

What policy decisions are required?

South Africa needs a credible gas plan tied to procurement, infrastructure and industrial policy. The draft South Africa Gas Master Plan has already sketched the scale of possible future demand: about 400 petajoules a year inland by 2050 and a further 350 PJ a year in coastal regions. That planning must now become execution.

The Department of Minerals and Energy, regulators, state-owned companies and private investors need a clear LNG-to-power strategy. It should set out how much gas the country needs, who will buy it, how it will be priced and stored, and how supply can be adjusted as demand changes.

The regulatory system also needs reform. The TIPS report calls for clearer rules on what companies must assess before offshore oil and gas projects can receive environmental approval. It also proposes a specialist tribunal to resolve disputes over those approvals. Broader environmental assessments could help identify suitable areas for development. Marine spatial planning is also needed to manage competing uses of South Africa’s ocean space.

These are not bureaucratic footnotes, they determine whether investment arrives before or after the cliff.

Above all, South Africa needs coordination. The report calls for a dedicated delivery structure. This could be a new workstream similar to Operation Vulindlela – a government-led initiative designed to modernise the country’s electricity, water, transport and digital communications networks. Or it could be a Rompco-style vehicle that brings the state and private sector together, coordinated by a single gas aggregator.

A critical review of the required policy, regulatory, procurement, infrastructure and upstream development activities indicates that decisions must be taken within the next few years to avoid a post-2030 gas supply shortfall.

Many of these actions have long development and construction lead times and are highly interdependent. Delays in enabling regulations, permitting processes, LNG procurement, terminal development, or domestic gas projects could significantly affect South Africa’s ability to secure alternative gas supplies before existing supplies decline. Early action is therefore essential to ensure that import infrastructure and domestic production capacity are available in time to support future gas demand and maintain security of supply beyond 2030.

The call to action is simple: decide now, procure now, permit now, build now. The cliff will not wait for another master plan.

– A sharp fall in gas supplies in 2028 threatens South Africa’s economy: how to manage the fallout
– https://theconversation.com/a-sharp-fall-in-gas-supplies-in-2028-threatens-south-africas-economy-how-to-manage-the-fallout-286861

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Azwihangwisi Judith Mphidi, Adjunct Academic, University of South Africa

Gender-based violence in Africa is often treated as a legal, social or policing problem. But these responses don’t fully address the conditions that shape the lives of women facing violence or the conditions they face in recovery. Based on their expertise in law, the criminal justice system and their relationship with social justice issues, Azwihangwisi Judith Mphidi and Debra Pheiffer reviewed 10 research papers on responses to gender-based violence. Their findings offer important lessons from South Africa on how survivors are rebuilding their lives.

---

What are the biggest challenges that survivors of gender-based violence face?

The studies we reviewed reflected the fact that women don’t experience violence as only a legal problem, or only an economic one, or only a psychological one. They experience it across all dimensions of their lives.

Survivors need more than emergency shelters or a legal case. They need safety, income, belonging, dignity and opportunities to lead.

The most important lessons from our study were that survivors are not passive beneficiaries waiting for rescue. They are innovators, organisers and leaders.

Secondly, our findings show that fragmented, single-sector responses to gender-based violence survivors are not enough.

Our research identified four recurring themes that any serious response must address together:

• psychological care through peer-led healing

• economic collectives such as savings groups and cooperatives

• integrated digital and mobile services

• community anchoring through culturally adapted, participatory approaches.

What did you find has worked?

The reviewed studies assessed women’s empowerment by examining which services enabled them to gain greater agency, self-efficacy, economic independence, decision-making power, psychosocial wellbeing and social belonging.

“What works” was measured through outcomes such as reduced dependence on abusive partners, increased participation in income-generating activities and leadership in cooperatives and savings groups. Other indicators included stronger peer support, reduced trauma symptoms, and greater recognition within households and communities.

Women described stokvels (savings groups) as lifelines helping them care for their children, repair homes and build confidence through shared responsibility. Others described their roles leading cooperatives as transforming how they saw themselves, and how their children saw them.

Our review also highlighted what is too often treated as a separate issue: the intersection of gender-based violence and energy poverty.

What role does access to energy systems play?

Dark paths, uncharged phones and unlit homes are not incidental details. They are conditions that increase vulnerability and reduce access to help.

Any serious gender-based violence response framework must, therefore, include energy access as a structural intervention, not an add-on.

We found that solar initiatives met multiple needs, providing a useful template for supporting survivors’ recovery. When homes, paths and community spaces are dark, insecurity increases. When women cannot charge their phones, they lose access to help, coordination and income-generating opportunities.

Our review suggests that small, community-owned solar systems deliver multiple benefits. They provide safer lighting and create income opportunities. We found that solar cooperatives offered women more than access to electricity. They also:

• created safer, well-lit communal spaces

• improved household security

• provided emergency phone charging

• supported income-generating opportunities

• reduced dependence on neighbours for basic energy needs

• gave women visible leadership roles.

This access means women can feed their families, build businesses and lead in their communities. Solar power turns survival into entrepreneurship, poverty into possibility.

What needs to change in the response to gender-based violence?

Our study shows that fragmented, single-sector responses to gender-based violence are not enough. Survivors experience violence across every aspect of their lives. Effective responses must, therefore, address multiple needs at the same time.

We identified four themes that work best together: psychological care, economic collectives, digital and mobile services, and participatory approaches. When these are delivered in isolation, their impact is limited. When they are integrated, survivors are more likely to move from crisis to leadership.

Across the 10 studies we reviewed, we consistently found that the most durable outcomes came when survivors were involved in designing solutions rather than simply receiving support.

The family-community-state model that emerged from our research reflects what survivors themselves told us they needed: partnership, not charity.

For example, women who joined stokvels gained more than an income. They also gained a stronger sense of identity and the capacity to support others. Additionally, women in solar cooperatives were able to create safer communal spaces, run charging businesses, mentor peers and become visible community leaders.

Survivors also identified what undermines this model. First, top-down government programmes that bypass local knowledge. Second, funding structures that reward large infrastructure projects over small, community-owned ones.

– Gender-based violence survivors need more than justice: four keys to recovery
– https://theconversation.com/gender-based-violence-survivors-need-more-than-justice-four-keys-to-recovery-285764

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Badri Zolfaghari, Senior Lecturer in Organisational Behaviour, University of Cape Town

When people talk about entrepreneurship in Africa, the conversation usually starts with everything that’s missing. Limited funding. Weak infrastructure. Poor internet connectivity. Unreliable electricity. Bureaucracy. Corruption.

The implicit message is that African entrepreneurs succeed despite these disadvantages.

These challenges are real. But they are only one part of the story.

We study entrepreneurship, innovation and team building in Africa. In a recent paper we followed ten technology startups in South Africa that were developing digital solutions in under-resourced communities. They were involved in a range of activities, including:

• improving financial services for people excluded from the banking system

• using virtual reality to improve science and technology education

• developed digital addressing systems for informal settlements

• creating platforms connecting waste collectors to the formal recycling economy.

We spent over two years interviewing their founders, observing how their businesses evolved and examining how they responded to changing conditions.

One pattern emerged consistently. These ventures were developing a distinctive way of innovating that depended on five interconnected practices:

• embedding themselves in local communities to build trust and understand people’s needs

• designing solutions around local realities

• adapting quickly when circumstances changed

• creating digital technologies to connect people and opportunities in new ways

• moving comfortably between informal community networks and formal institutions. These included banks, schools, corporations and government agencies.

These practices enabled entrepreneurs to build businesses that were deeply rooted in their communities while also connecting them to wider markets and institutions.

Our findings suggest that policymakers should ask what makes African entrepreneurs uniquely effective rather how African entrepreneurs can become more like entrepreneurs elsewhere.

Beyond the ‘deficit’ story

Technology entrepreneurship is often discussed through the lens of places like Silicon Valley. There, startups typically emerge within relatively mature innovation ecosystems. They are supported by dense networks of investors, research universities, specialist talent and established technology firms. Entrepreneurs rely heavily on networks and relationships. But the networks tend to be concentrated within formal innovation institutions.

When this ecosystem is treated as the benchmark, entrepreneurship elsewhere is often understood in terms of what is missing.

By contrast, across Africa, entrepreneurs are building businesses that combine community relationships, informal economic practices, digital technologies and formal institutions to create opportunities that none of these systems could provide on their own.

The result is a different model of entrepreneurship.

Innovation starts with trust, not technology

One of the strongest patterns we observed was that successful startups rarely began by trying to disrupt communities. Instead, they embedded themselves within them.

Education startups worked alongside teachers before introducing new technologies into classrooms. Financial technology companies spent months building trust with informal traders. Legal technology firms partnered with community advice centres before digitising legal services.

Rather than assuming they knew the answers, founders invested time understanding how people already solved problems. Only then did they introduce technology. This contrasts with a common image of startups as fast-moving disruptor. In these examples entrepreneurs arrive with ready-made solutions.

We also found that entrepreneurs constantly moved between local knowledge and external opportunities. This included partnering with banks, universities or multinational companies to access expertise and investment.

They also showed adaptability. Some had to redesign their businesses after robberies and COVID-19 lockdowns. In some cases regulatory barriers made existing approaches impossible.

Digital technology as a bridge

Technology wasn’t simply the product these ventures were selling. It became the bridge connecting different worlds. Examples included:

• a fintech company. It used digital identities to help informal workers access financial services that had previously excluded them.

• an addressing platform. This allowed residents of informal settlements to receive deliveries and emergency services in places invisible on digital maps.

• educational ventures. These combined community spaces with online learning so children without access to equipment could experience technologies.

Building bridges instead of choosing sides

Entrepreneurship is often presented as a choice between the informal economy and the formal economy.

Our research found something quite different.

The most successful ventures operated comfortably across both. They worked with local community leaders while collaborating with multinational firms. They built trust through face-to-face relationships while scaling through digital platforms.

They understood township realities while connecting customers to national and global markets. Rather than choosing one world over another, they built bridges between them.

Why this matters

Africa has one of the world’s youngest populations and one of the fastest-growing digital economies. Governments and investors are increasingly looking to entrepreneurship as a driver of economic growth and job creation. But policies are still mainly being built around the assumption that entrepreneurs simply need better versions of institutions developed elsewhere.

But we argue that support should strengthen the ability of entrepreneurs to connect:

• communities with larger markets

• formal institutions with informal networks

• local knowledge with global opportunities.

That means investing in infrastructure, finance, partnerships, community organisations and digital ecosystems.

Lessons for the rest of the world

The conditions facing entrepreneurs everywhere are becoming more uncertain. Supply chains are fragmenting. Artificial intelligence is reshaping industries. Climate change is creating new disruptions. Markets are increasingly unpredictable.

In many ways, businesses across the world are beginning to face the kind of complexity that entrepreneurs in African townships have navigated for years. In our view African entrepreneurs can offer lessons in how to innovate in complexity (hyperdynamic context, as we call it).

– African entrepreneurs operate in tough conditions: the skills they’ve honed could be useful to others
– https://theconversation.com/african-entrepreneurs-operate-in-tough-conditions-the-skills-theyve-honed-could-be-useful-to-others-287507

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Geoffrey Howarth, Associate Professor, University of Cape Town

Some of the most extraordinary gems ever found belong to a rare class of diamonds known as CLIPPIRs (Cullinan-like, Large, Inclusion-Poor, Pure, Irregular, Resorbed). They make up less than 1% of all diamonds on Earth, and include three of the largest diamonds ever recovered, the Cullinan, at 3,106 carats, found at the Premier mine in South Africa; the 1,111 ct Lesedi La Rona, discovered at the Karowe mine in Botswana in 2015 and sold for US$53 million in 2017; and the 2,492 ct Motswedi recovered from the Karowe mine in 2024.

CLIPPIRs are not ordinary diamonds. They are part of a group known as “superdeep” diamonds that form more than 400km beneath our feet in a region of Earth’s deep interior called the mantle transition zone. This is much deeper than ordinary gem-quality diamonds, which usually form in the thick, rigid mantle roots beneath old continents, at depths of up to about 200km. The mantle is the thick layer of hot rock between Earth’s core and outer “shell” known as the crust.

Although their size and value attract attention, our interest in CLIPPIR diamonds lies in the journey they record. Because they originate at depths far beyond our reach, diamonds are valuable for understanding parts of Earth’s interior that we cannot directly observe. CLIPPIRs are especially rare messengers from the deep mantle. Studying them is one of the few ways we can learn how rocks and carbon are recycled in the Earth’s deep interior, and how our planet reshapes itself over hundreds of millions of years.

As a geologist at the University of Cape Town, I specialise in the magmas that carry diamonds to the surface, known as kimberlites. My colleagues and I set out to investigate what the world’s largest diamonds could tell us about Earth’s hidden recycling system – specifically, what rocks hosted these rare diamonds, and how they were eventually brought to the surface.

We explored these questions by focusing on olivine, a mineral found in kimberlite rocks. Kimberlites are rare magmatic rocks that rise rapidly from deep within the Earth, acting like natural elevators that carry diamonds and other minerals from the mantle to the surface.

Olivine is the most abundant mineral in the mantle. As kimberlite magmas rise, they pick up olivine from the mantle rocks they pass through. The chemistry of this olivine gives us a fingerprint of those deep rocks, including clues about their iron content and oxygen isotope signatures. This helps us understand the mantle regions that kimberlites sampled, including the areas where diamonds may have been stored before being brought to the surface.

But CLIPPIR diamonds have been found in only a small number of kimberlites globally, and we still do not fully understand why some kimberlites contain these exceptional diamonds while most do not.

Our findings add new pieces of the puzzle. We identified unusual iron-rich domains in the mantle associated with the kimberlites that contain CLIPPIR diamonds. This gives us new clues about the rocks that hosted these diamonds before they were carried to the surface. Our findings also offer a practical tool for diamond exploration because kimberlites containing abundant iron-rich olivine and related minerals have higher potential to host CLIPPIR diamonds.

Journey through the deep Earth

Previous studies had shown that CLIPPIR diamonds formed far deeper than ordinary diamonds. Their chemistry also suggested a link to ancient seafloor rock, known as oceanic crust, that was dragged deep into the Earth by plate tectonics – the slow movement and interaction of sections of Earth’s rigid outer shell. When two plates meet, one can be forced beneath the other. This process, called subduction, carries oceanic crust deep into the mantle, where it is changed by heat, pressure and interaction with the surrounding rocks. Under these extreme conditions, carbon contained in this material can be transformed into diamond.

New evidence from our analysis of olivine chemistry suggests that CLIPPIR-bearing kimberlites are linked to a particular kind of recycled material: ancient basaltic oceanic crust that had been altered by hot fluids circulating through the seafloor before it was dragged deep into the Earth. This hydrothermally altered oceanic crust appears to have formed dense, iron-rich rocks in the deep mantle.

This finding addresses one of the unresolved questions about CLIPPIR diamonds: what kind of rocks hosted them before kimberlite magmas carried them to the surface?

But our findings also raise another question. These iron-rich rocks are so dense that they cannot rise back towards Earth’s surface on their own. Earlier theories suggested that the rock hosting these diamonds could float upwards passively through the mantle. Our results suggest that the journey was probably more complicated.

Instead of rising passively, this dense, iron-rich material would have needed a powerful lift. One possible mechanism is mantle plumes: columns of superheated rock that rise from deep within the Earth and can capture dense material, forcing it upward. These upwellings could have carried the diamond-bearing material upwards until it became stored at the base of the lithosphere, the thick, rigid root beneath old continents, where it likely remained for hundreds of millions of years.

Much later, rare magmas generated deep within the Earth passed through these diamond-bearing regions. These magmas rose rapidly to the surface and solidified as kimberlite rocks, carrying the diamonds and associated minerals with them.

In other words, CLIPPIR diamonds are not only rare and valuable gems. They record a long geological journey: from ancient seafloor, to deep mantle, to the roots of continents, and finally to the surface in rare volcanic eruptions.

Finding more CLIPPIR diamonds

Our findings may also help guide diamond exploration.

In parts of Africa, including Sierra Leone and Angola, very large CLIPPIR diamonds have been found in river gravels. These diamonds must have come from primary source rocks, such as kimberlites, but in many cases those sources remain unknown. Rivers can transport diamonds far from where they originally erupted, making it difficult to trace them back to the rocks that brought them to the surface.

The famous Star of Sierra Leone, for example, was a 969-carat diamond recovered in 1972 from river deposits in the Kono district. Yet decades of mining in the region did not clearly identify a kimberlite source for diamonds of this type. More recently, CLIPPIR diamonds have been recovered from the Meya kimberlite in the same district, showing that primary sources for these exceptional diamonds do exist there.

Our approach gives exploration teams a new clue to look for. Kimberlites containing abundant iron-rich olivine and related minerals have higher potential to host CLIPPIR diamonds. This does not guarantee that giant diamonds will be found, but it helps geologists decide which kimberlites are worth investigating in more detail.

Based on our findings, we would expect the most promising kimberlites in regions such as Sierra Leone and Angola to be those that show this iron-rich chemical signature. There are still many poorly characterised kimberlites in these areas, and some may be hiding more of the world’s rarest diamonds.

The world’s largest diamonds have travelled through Earth for hundreds of millions of years. By reading the chemical clues preserved in the rocks that brought them to the surface, we are beginning to understand not only where these diamonds may be found, but what they reveal about the deep processes that shape our planet.

– Where do the world’s biggest diamonds come from? Geology now has answers
– https://theconversation.com/where-do-the-worlds-biggest-diamonds-come-from-geology-now-has-answers-285003

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Tilman Brück, Professor of Economic Development and Food Security, Humboldt University of Berlin

Political violence refers to the use of force by groups pursuing political goals. It can include attacks on civilians, armed clashes, riots and explosions, all of which cause obvious and immediate harm.

But the effects of political violence can continue long after the violence itself has ended.

The immediate effects of war, such as poverty, displacement and death, are well documented. Much less is known about how long-term exposure to political violence – meaning living in communities that have experienced these kinds of attacks – affects the risk of later abuse at home, among peers or at school.

We are development economists and public health experts studying the long-term effects of political violence on human development in the global south. We set out to investigate if growing up in communities with a history of political violence increases children’s and young people’s risk of experiencing other forms of violence later in life.

We analysed data from 35,439 young people, aged 13 to 24, from nine African countries. These are Côte d’Ivoire, Kenya, Malawi, Mozambique, Namibia, Nigeria, Uganda, Zambia and Zimbabwe.

We linked nationally representative surveys on violence against children and youth with data on past political violence events from the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project, which tracks the timing and location of political violence across Africa.

This allowed us to see if someone’s past, long-term exposure to political violence in their community was linked to their current experience of emotional, physical or sexual violence from peers, friends or relatives.

Our research shows that the effects of exposure to political violence over at least 15 years can seep into homes, disrupt relationships and adversely affect the everyday lives of children and young people.

We found that long-term exposure to political violence significantly increases the risk of interpersonal violence. This refers to violence between individuals, such as within families, within intimate relationships or in peer groups.

These findings suggest that a child born into a community with a history of political unrest is at higher risk of abuse as they grow into a young adult, even if the “active” violence has long cooled down.

The findings

Our most striking discovery is that the consequences of past political violence unfold over a long period of time.

We found that long-term exposure (over 15 years) was associated with a much higher likelihood of several forms of interpersonal violence against children and youth. Interestingly, short-term exposure (violence occurring over one to five years) showed no significant association.

Political violence events in nine African countries

Specifically, we found that long-term exposure to political violence increases the risk among children and youth of:

• sexual violence among poorer households by as much as 16.9%

• emotional violence from family members (such as being told they are not loved or being ridiculed) by 5.5%

• physical violence from intimate partners (like slapping, punching or kicking) by 3.0%.

The drivers

Why would past political violence lead to subsequent violence against children and youth in the home, at school or between friends?

Our research and related studies point to five possible reasons.

1. A culture of insecurity: constant political unrest creates high levels of stress and anxiety for everyone. In many cultures, men feel pressured to be “protectors” and “providers”. When political violence makes this impossible, the resulting distress can lead to more aggressive behaviour within the family.

2. Social learning: when young people grow up witnessing violence being used to address political problems, they can “learn” that violence is an acceptable way to handle personal conflicts in their own lives.

3. Shifting social norms: prolonged conflict may change what a society considers “normal”. Violent behaviours that were once rejected can become more tolerated over time.

4. Economic hardship: conflict destroys jobs and livelihoods. We found that adolescents and young adults in the poorest households were the most vulnerable to sexual violence. When families are desperate, young people may be at higher risk of exploitation.

5. Broken systems: long-term political violence may gradually destroy the systems meant to protect children. School closures become more frequent, health and social services deliveries are weakened, and community trust erodes. Without these “safety nets”, there are fewer adults outside the family to spot abuse or help children report it.

What next?

The central recommendation from our study for practitioners working with children and young people in fragile settings is that responses to the consequences of long-term political violence need a much broader view of who needs protection, where and how.

Humanitarian responses cannot focus only on “emergency” needs, such as food aid, immediate healthcare and displacement camps.

Child protection efforts should also invest in preventive community-based services that provide safe spaces and sustained support for children and young people at risk of violence resulting from long-term political unrest.

Our findings suggest that, when assessing a child’s needs and risks, social workers should consider the child’s immediate circumstances and the history of political violence in their community.

Child protection, therefore, cannot just respond to a single shock or crisis. It must counter the long shadow of past conflicts.

1. Child protection must be a core part of conflict response. Programmes shouldn’t just focus on demobilisation or safety from armed groups. They must address safety within homes, schools and communities. This includes investing in mental health and support for caregivers like parents and teachers. If the hidden distress of adults and children is ignored, that harm can be transferred across generations.

2. Targeted support is needed for the most vulnerable. Poverty significantly increases the risk of sexual violence in areas with past political violence. Therefore, interventions like social protection and food security aren’t just about welfare. They are vital tools for preventing violence within and outside the home.

3. Responses must take historical contexts seriously. Preventing violence against children in Africa means looking back at where conflict has reshaped social life. Governments, donors and NGOs need to build institutional and family support systems that can withstand the pressures long-term political violence puts them under.

Treating political violence and child abuse as unrelated problems leaves young people across Africa at risk. Only by addressing the long shadow of political violence can we hope to achieve the global goal of ending all forms of violence against children.

– Shadows of past political violence shape the lives of young Africans for years – a study of nine countries
– https://theconversation.com/shadows-of-past-political-violence-shape-the-lives-of-young-africans-for-years-a-study-of-nine-countries-286971

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Pearl S. Kyei, Senior lecturer, University of Ghana

Across Ghana, thousands of children start formal schooling every year full of promise. Yet many struggle to master basic reading and numeracy skills in the early grades.

Six in ten Primary 4 pupils in Ghana perform below basic proficiency in mathematics and half fall short in English. Primary 4 pupils are students in the fourth year of primary school, usually about 10 years old.

As researchers studying what helps young children learn better in Ghana, we wanted to understand something that is often overlooked: the home. Our study sheds new light on the importance of the resources available at home, the involvement of caregivers and the type of family structure.

We found that young children do better in school when their caregivers take an active role in their learning, even in families with fewer resources. The findings suggest that improving school performance in low-income settings may not always require expensive investments.

The early years are critical for children’s development. Skills acquired during kindergarten and the first years of primary school form the foundation for future learning. Children who struggle during these years often find it difficult to catch up later.

Home is where learning starts

In low-income countries, education discussions often focus on school resources and teachers. Learning does not begin and end in the classroom, however. Research has shown that learning begins long before a child goes to school, and caregivers are children’s first and most influential teachers.

---

Read more: Parents who believe their children can have a better future are more likely to read and play with them – South African study

---

The home environment, including what children do after school and how caregivers support learning, plays a critical role.

Caregivers don’t always know what a difference they can make to their children’s learning, though, particularly if they have limited education themselves.

Parental involvement in early education thus remains relatively limited in Ghana.

Home and school in Ghana

The study collected data from 3,742 children aged 4-8 years in Kindergarten 1 to Primary 1. Pupils were sampled from 62 public and private schools in the Greater Accra and Central regions.

We examined several home-related factors, including household resources (books, toys, information technology devices and so on), caregiver engagement (reading to children or helping with homework), and family structure (living with parents).

Children’s academic performance was assessed using grade-specific workbooks aligned with the Ghana Education Service curriculum. We tested literacy, numeracy and reasoning skills appropriate for the three grade levels:

• simple matching activities, such as shapes, letters, animals, and picture halves (Kindergarten 1)

• matching, counting, identifying patterns, and selecting odd items (Kindergarten 2)

• matching, basic arithmetic, shape recognition, word formation, picture sequencing, identifying living and non-living things, and colour-by-number activities (Primary 1).

Not surprisingly, children from better-resourced households tended to perform better academically. Homes with books, toys or digital devices offer more opportunities for learning.

But what caregivers did at home significantly affected children’s learning.

Children whose caregivers read with them or helped with homework scored 9% higher on tests than children whose caregivers were not engaged, after accounting for factors like age, grade, and home resources. These interactions with caregivers likely stimulate children and help them practice what they learn in school.

Children in first grade scored higher than children in kindergarten, and the differences by grade were even greater for pupils whose caregivers were actively involved in their learning.

---

Read more: Thinking aloud: what happens when children read for pleasure in classroom clubs

---

Reading with children was especially helpful in Kindergarten. Combining reading with helping with homework had the strongest positive association with performance in Primary 1.

Caregiver engagement partly explained why children from better-resourced households performed better. It also bridged the gap between resource-rich and resource-poor homes. This means that even in homes with limited resources, caregiver involvement can support learning.

Does family structure matter?

Children from single-parent households are sometimes expected to be disadvantaged in school. Our study, however, found no direct link between family structure and children’s academic performance. Children in two-parent, single-parent, or other living arrangements performed similarly once home resources and caregiver engagement were considered.

In sub-Saharan Africa, extended family systems often play an important role in child-rearing. Grandparents, aunts and older siblings may all contribute to a child’s learning, when a parent is absent.

Implications for policy and practice

Programmes aimed at improving early learning should not focus solely on schools. They should also provide practical guidance to caregivers on supporting children’s learning at home.

---

Read more: Sharing picture books with kids can make them smarter and more attentive

---

Interventions do not need to be expensive. Encouraging caregivers to ensure a capable household member reads with children, talks about school, and monitors homework could have meaningful benefits.

Initiatives that empower families to be part of children’s development have the potential to yield lasting benefits for children, schools and society.

– What helps young children learn? Adults who take an interest in their homework and reading
– https://theconversation.com/what-helps-young-children-learn-adults-who-take-an-interest-in-their-homework-and-reading-286669

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Mark Tekena, Associate Professor, Theatre and Performance Studies, The Rivers State University of Science and Technology

Nigeria is grappling with banditry, kidnapping and insurgency amid renewed debates over community policing and the creation of state police. A Nollywood classic released more than 25 years ago remains strikingly relevant today.

Released in 1999, Issakaba was inspired by the real-life Bakassi Boys vigilante movement. It became one of Nollywood’s defining films, attracting audiences in Nigeria and across West Africa. The story centres on a community overwhelmed by violent crime and let down by an ineffective police force. When a vigilante group steps in to restore order, its success comes at the cost of operating outside the law. The film anticipated many of today’s debates about security, state authority and citizenship.

I research Nigerian theatre, film and popular culture, with a focus on how media and performance shape ideas about politics, governance and citizenship.

In my recent research on Issakaba, I analysed the film as a cultural text to examine how it represents justice, state authority and vigilantism. Rather than simply depicting crime and insecurity, the film explores the relationship between security, citizenship and the state. My analysis shows that it does more than dramatise crime fighting: it reveals how citizens negotiate legitimacy, justice and political authority when the state struggles to provide security.

My research drew on historian and political theorist Achille Mbembe’s work on power, violence and governance in postcolonial Africa. His work suggests that political authority is often fragmented and exercised through multiple centres of power rather than solely through formal state institutions. This helps explain why Issakaba portrays vigilante groups as acquiring legitimacy when the state is unable to provide security.

The film remains relevant because many of the conditions that gave rise to the Bakassi Boys persist. Across Nigeria, persistent insecurity has fuelled the emergence of vigilante groups like Amotekun, Ebube Agu and the Civilian Joint Task Force. Communities turn to these groups when they believe state security institutions have fallen short.

In many respects, the frustrations with state security that Issakaba captured in south-eastern Nigeria are now evident across other parts of the country.

Nollywood as a storyteller of governance

Nollywood is more than one of the world’s largest film industries. It is one of Africa’s most influential cultural industries. The films it produces contribute to public conversations about politics, justice and public life.

I found that Issakaba transformed the wave of armed robbery, violent crime and public distrust of the police that gripped south-eastern Nigeria in the late 1990s into a compelling political narrative. It did not present governance as an abstract concept. Instead, the film asks a practical question: who deserves public trust when the state can no longer guarantee security?

In the film, legitimacy depends less on formal authority than on performance. The vigilante heroes are portrayed as legitimate because they succeed where official institutions fail. Rather than presenting constitutional authority as the basis of legitimacy, the film suggests that governments earn public trust by protecting lives and property. Put simply, in times of crisis, people often judge governments more by whether they can provide security than by whether they possess formal authority.

Issakaba‘s appeal reflected more than its action-packed storytelling. It emerged at a time when many Nigerians were frustrated by rising insecurity and what they perceived as the failure of state security institutions. In the film, justice is presented as immediate and community-centred. The vigilante group identifies suspected criminals, acts swiftly against them, and restores order where the police have failed. At the same time, the film invites viewers to consider the ethical tension between effective security and the rule of law.

The film therefore offers an important insight into governance. Citizens judge institutions not only by their legal authority but also by their capacity to solve everyday problems. When governments are perceived as unable to provide security, alternative actors can acquire public legitimacy. This can happen even when their methods raise profound legal and ethical concerns.

My analysis also shows that Issakaba presents citizenship as an active rather than passive relationship with the state. Faced with insecurity, communities do not simply wait for government intervention. They organise, mobilise and participate in their own protection. This reflects broader realities across Nigeria and many African societies, where citizens frequently rely on collective action when public institutions appear inadequate.

At the same time, the film exposes a fundamental dilemma. If citizens lose confidence in formal institutions, should they support alternative systems of justice? The real-life history of the Bakassi Boys illustrates the risks of doing so. Human rights organisations documented allegations of torture, unlawful detention and extrajudicial killings linked to the movement. This demonstrates how groups established to protect communities can themselves become sources of abuse when accountability is absent.

Why the film still matters today

The questions raised by Issakaba remain remarkably relevant. Nigeria continues to face insecurity in many regions. Vigilante groups have emerged in response to banditry, kidnapping and communal violence. At the same time, policymakers continue to debate reforms, including the creation of state police forces under the control of individual state governments, as a way of strengthening local security.

More than 25 years after its release, Issakaba reminds us that public confidence in government depends not only on legal authority but also on the state’s ability to provide security effectively, fairly and in accordance with the rule of law. As Nigeria continues to debate policing reforms, Issakaba offers a timely reminder that security without accountability carries its own dangers.

– Issakaba: what a 1999 Nollywood classic reveals about Nigeria’s security crisis today
– https://theconversation.com/issakaba-what-a-1999-nollywood-classic-reveals-about-nigerias-security-crisis-today-286830

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Alène Ngarura Kaneza, doctorante, Université Libre de Bruxelles (ULB)

Burundi’s president Évariste Ndayishimiye made an official “friendship and working” visit to Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso, in April 2026. At the time, Ndayishimiye was the rotating chair of the African Union.

The visit aimed to reopen dialogue between the continental body and the Alliance of Sahel States. The alliance brings together Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger. It is currently chaired by Mali’s leader, Ibrahim Traoré.

The three states withdrew from African Union bodies in January 2025.

During his visit, the Burundian president praised Burkina Faso’s efforts to restore and stablise the country. This is despite the country being governed by a military junta whose leader has publicly said democracy is not a priority.

Behind Ndayishimiye’s diplomatic rhetoric lies a form of solidarity between authoritarian regimes that reject constitutional constraints.

My doctoral research examined international sanctions imposed by the European Union and regional organisations, and how authoritarian regimes in fragile states adapt to them. Using Burundi as the main case study, I also examined other sanctioned countries, including Mali and Niger.

Burundi and the Sahelian states have taken similar paths.

Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger have been subject to sanctions by the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas) and the European Union. This followed military coups in Mali (2020 and 2021), Burkina Faso (2022) and Niger (2023).

Burundi faced sanctions by the EU and the United States in 2016. This was in response to Pierre Nkurunziza’s decision to seek a third term, which was deemed unconstitutional.

Some political developments are best understood by looking at what’s similar in different contexts.

Burundi and Mali illustrate this well. They are separated by thousands of kilometres and operate in different geopolitical environments. Yet, both reveal how authoritarian governments adapt to external pressure.

Creating the enemy

In both Burundi and Mali, identifying an enemy – whether internal or external – is central to political legitimacy. It also strengthens internal unity by creating a sense of shared threat that can be revived whenever political circumstances require it.

The enemy may be portrayed as a former colonial power, a regional rival or a vague security threat.

In Mali, this dynamic was clear in 2022. The authorities capitalised on the “rally-around-the-flag” effect. This happens when people confronted with a real or perceived external threat unite behind their leaders. It strengthens the government’s legitimacy and political standing.

---

Read more: Winning hearts and power: how Mali’s military regime gained popular support

---

Following the May 2021 coup, Mali’s military-led transitional government was expanded to include civilian figures. This broadened the regime’s support base and helped generate popular backing.

Tens of thousands of Malians gathered in January 2022 to protest against economic and diplomatic sanctions. They accused Ecowas and France of interfering in the country’s internal affairs.

In Burundi, Belgium has become the main external target of anger among supporters of the ruling party.

The former colonial power is blamed for fuelling the country’s ethnic divisions. It is accused of colluding with Rwanda in an attempt to destabilise the current regime. The Burundian government also portrays Brussels as the force behind EU sanctions.

This narrative allows both regimes to deflect international criticism by presenting themselves as resisting former colonisers.

Choosing a regional adversary

At the regional level, each regime has chosen an adversary.

In Mali, Algeria is accused of harbouring opposition figures like Imam Mahmoud Dicko, and of colluding with terrorist groups active in northern Mali.

Relations got worse when Mali closed its airspace to Algeria in April 2025. This was reopened in July 2026.

In Burundi, the regional adversary is Paul Kagame’s Rwanda. Ndayishimiye has described Rwanda as a “bad neighbour”. He accused Kigali of harbouring those behind the failed 2015 coup attempt.

---

Read more: Burundi-Rwanda rivalry: RED-Tabara rebel attacks add to regional tensions

---

Burundian authorities also claim that Rwanda supports RED-Tabara, a rebel group seeking to unseat the Burundian government.

On the back of these claims, Burundi closed its border with Rwanda in January 2024. Between August 2022 and December 2025, Burundi deployed troops against the M23 rebel movement, which operates in the Democratic Republic of Congo and is supported by Kigali.

These regional adversaries are powerful political resources. They help sustain a constant sense of siege, which is essential for regimes that rely on external threats as their main source of political survival.

The security paradox

Despite the similarities between Mali and Burundi, differences exist.

In Mali, the threat appears more pressing due to attacks in April 2026 carried out by jihadist groups. These helped reinforce the credibility of the regime’s security narrative.

This difference in the nature of the threat has produced distinct strategies of political legitimation. Mali’s junta leader, Assimi Goïta, has effectively freed himself from electoral constraints. In July 2025, the National Transition Council granted him a renewable five-year term without elections or term limits.

This means the junta no longer needs to seek approval through elections. Instead, it presents itself as the only force capable of addressing deadly rebel attacks.

Although Mali’s economy has proved resilient, it remains vulnerable to recurring power cuts and the gradual decline in development and humanitarian aid.

In Burundi, by contrast, the ruling party has already nominated Ndayishimiye as its candidate for the 2027 election. Elections remain a necessary step.

---

Read more: Free of sanctions, Burundi can start to recover and rebuild

---

The government’s emphasis on security, therefore, serves a different purpose. It helps prepare the political ground for elections while shifting attention away from an economy weakened by fuel and foreign currency shortages since 2015.

Burundi is among the world’s poorest countries. Constantly constructing external enemies and shifting blame abroad may also serve a deeper purpose. According to French political scientist Jean-François Bayart, this strategy also helps conceal the internal system of corruption and patronage that sustains authoritarian regimes.

What the Mali-Burundi comparison reveals is the resilience of a shared political logic: regimes that have turned external enemies from a political burden into a source of legitimacy.

– Burundi and Mali regimes use a common tactic to stay in power: blame an external enemy
– https://theconversation.com/burundi-and-mali-regimes-use-a-common-tactic-to-stay-in-power-blame-an-external-enemy-286184