Mau Mau: how Kenya’s history of colonial violence speaks through living bodies and graves

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Rose Miyonga, Researcher, University of Warwick

Between 1952 and 1963, Kenya experienced one of the most violent chapters in its modern history. The Mau Mau uprising, rooted in land dispossession and political repression under British colonial rule, escalated into a brutal counterinsurgency war.

An estimated 50,000 Kenyans died during the violent conflict between Mau Mau guerrillas and British forces, and from disease and starvation. Torture, sexual violence and forced detention were widespread. Over a million people were displaced into villages and detention camps in the 1950s.

Many victims of the uprising were buried in unmarked mass graves. Others survived, but were permanently scarred.

As Britain prepared to leave in the early 1960s ahead of Kenya’s independence in 1963, officials took painstaking efforts to hide the evidence of their brutality. They destroyed some archival material that described their violent conduct and secretly took other documents back to the UK.

Further, after independence, Kenya’s own government pushed Mau Mau survivors to “forgive and forget” the past.

This created a profound historical gap. So if archives were destroyed and public history suppressed, where else might the past be found?

As an oral historian, I set out to answer this question. I embarked on an oral history project, speaking to 60 Mau Mau survivors, visiting memory sites such as mass graves, and collecting material from archives in the UK and Kenya.

I set out my findings in a recent paper.

My research shows that many Mau Mau survivors are living with permanent wounds and disabilities, which serve as constant reminders of the past. During interviews, people were keen to show me their scars and wounds, using them to illustrate their painful histories. These included bullet wounds (and sometimes bullets still lodged in the body), scars from torture and amputations.

My study showed that the body can become evidence in contexts where written documentation is absent or contested. Physical scars authenticate memory. These injuries also ensure that the past is never fully forgotten. Chronic pain and disability materially shape everyday life, tying the present to wartime violence.

My research also included understanding the Mau Mau war through human remains. I visited memory sites where communities mourn and remember, such as mass graves. I also researched the contents of boxes at the National Museum of Kenya on Mau Mau victims.


Read more: Kenya: the shameful truth about British colonial abuse and how it was covered up


By sharing their experiences, survivors reclaim agency over their histories. Rather than being passive victims of silence, they become active custodians of memory.

My findings suggest that archives are not limited to documents stored in state repositories. In post-conflict contexts where records are incomplete or destroyed, memory often persists through bodies and landscapes.

Custodians of memory

Through my study, I was able to observe how people use their bodies to tell their histories. I noticed this most powerfully in the 2002 BBC documentary Kenya: White Terror.

In one section, Mau Mau survivor Mwangi Kinyari goes with presenter John McGhie to a detention camp, and takes him to the cell where he was tortured and held for eight days during a three-year imprisonment.

Ignoring McGhie’s urges to be careful, Kinyari removes his jacket and insists on acting out a scene of torture, manoeuvring himself into a handstand position with his feet up on the wall and his hands on the dirt floor to demonstrate how he was hung upside down during torturous interrogations in that cell.

He then removes his belt and lifts his shirt to show the scars from the operation he had for the internal bleeding that resulted from beatings.

The descriptions of brutality he endured at the hands of white guards were powerful enough. Kinyari gives testimony of having his testicles beaten until he urinated blood, and his eyes seared with hot coals.

His words and descriptions communicate the facts of what happened, but there is something more that his body conveys through acting out the scene of his torture, using his body to write into the missing record of his experiences, and recentring himself in the frame of historical memory.

Aged 80, Kinyari seized an opportunity to speak back to the historical forces that had forgotten him. He used his entire body as a vehicle to do this.


Read more: Kenya’s female freedom fighters were the silent heroes of the anti-colonial movement – here are some of their stories


Mass grave sites also deserve greater recognition as spaces of history and remembrance. These mass graves are a visceral reminder of Mau Mau history, countering attempts to silence and sanitise the past. They offer insights into the brutality and devastation of the war.

Even though they are not marked or honoured in an official capacity, community members have found ways to tend to them as sites of mourning and remembrance.

Violence has profoundly shaped the past and present of Mau Mau survivors. This is evident both in survivors’ bodies and in the remains of those who were killed. These are archives in their own right.

Unhealed wounds aren’t only symbolic. They continue to shape survivors’ economic opportunities, health and wellbeing decades later. Embodied memory also strengthens contemporary justice claims. Survivors seeking compensation rely not only on testimony but on visible physical evidence of abuse.

What should be done

Bodies have powerful stories to tell. Unhealed wounds have resonance in the present, materially affecting survivors’ lives, illustrating the legacies of war. They are also record-keepers, offering evidence for people who still hope to have their stories heard and maybe even get compensation for their suffering.

Tending to these wounds would be literally and figuratively healing for the Kenyan nation. Ignoring these embodied archives risks reproducing historical erasure.

First, there needs to be urgency in recording survivors’ testimonies through oral histories and community memory work. The Mau Mau generation is ageing, and embodied memory will not last indefinitely.

Second, mass grave sites and human remains deserve formal recognition as spaces of national history and mourning.

Third, continued engagement with reparations processes is essential as it allows survivors of Mau Mau traumas to seek justice and closure.

Acknowledging embodied suffering is central to meaningful justice. Addressing these wounds – both literal and historical – could contribute to broader national reflection in a country still shaped by colonial violence and inequality.

– Mau Mau: how Kenya’s history of colonial violence speaks through living bodies and graves
– https://theconversation.com/mau-mau-how-kenyas-history-of-colonial-violence-speaks-through-living-bodies-and-graves-277118

Gulf attention is turning inward: why the Iran war could destabilise the Horn of Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Brendon J. Cannon, Associate Professor, Khalifa University

Gulf states have become increasingly prominent in the squabbles, civil wars and inter-country tensions in the Horn of Africa over the past decade. The countries in this region include Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somaliland, Somalia and Djibouti.

As a result, the US-Israel war on Iran matters for the Horn, where Gulf money, Gulf diplomacy and Gulf defence equipment have become part of the operating environment of conflict and rivalry.

For over a decade, I have researched the interactions of sub-Saharan Africa with Arab Gulf states, as well as Turkey, Japan, China and others. In my view, Gulf states may scale back their engagement in the Horn as the security situation in the Middle Eastern region deteriorates.

This could potentially reshape conflicts, alignments and diplomacy across the Horn of Africa – if the war drags on.

Gulf states like the United Arab Emirates and Qatar – important partners for Ethiopia, Sudan and Somalia – will likely begin focusing inward on their own security. The strategic importance of Horn of Africa states for Saudi Arabia or the UAE will diminish.

In practical terms, this could mean a drop in high-level visits, a reduction in arms flows and a weakening of political loyalty as Horn actors adjust.

For the Horn, this could lead to two outcomes. One, an escalation in conflict, with states and armed groups seeking to settle scores while external patrons are distracted. Or second, a temporary cooling-off period as actors reassess the implications of reduced Gulf funding, arms and mediation.

Either way, the Horn is unlikely to grow calmer. Instead, longstanding grievances, between Ethiopia and Eritrea for instance, may become more pronounced.

Sudan’s war and Gulf backing

For Sudan, the implications of the ongoing conflict in the Gulf could be significant. The two warring parties – the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and Sudan’s military – have relied heavily on external support.

Both may find themselves suddenly without the largesse and military equipment from Gulf backers, depending on how the Iran war unfolds. This drawback of support could hit the RSF particularly hard as its biggest external backer, the UAE, focuses on its own security. Sudan’s military, however, may continue to benefit from Turkish and Egyptian support.

Much recent commentary has focused on evolving “alliances” and “blocs” that pit the UAE/Israel/Somaliland/Ethiopia against Turkey/Saudi Arabia/Egypt/Somalia within Sudan’s civil war.

This framing, however, often misses two basic facts. First, these are not alliances but rather opportunistic alignments that bring together diverse actors and interests from outside the Horn. These alignments have always been opportunistic on the part of external state actors, such as Turkey, the UAE and Qatar.

They hold only as long as external patrons can plausibly deliver resources, arms and diplomatic attention without unacceptable reputational damage to themselves.

Second, state leaders in the Horn of Africa have largely steered these relationships themselves. They have used external patrons to advance domestic and regional interests.


Read more: Middle Eastern monarchies in Sudan’s war: what’s driving their interests


Gulf states’ opportunistic interventions were possible largely because they were at peace with one another and with Iran. That is no longer the case.

Sudan’s civil war may last even longer now that Gulf states are focused elsewhere. Neither side in the civil war will have the ability to land a knock-out punch.

Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somalia and Somaliland’s recognition

The Iran war could affect Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somalia and Somaliland in a number of ways.

Firstly, the diplomatic flurry of visits by Gulf leaders to Ethiopia and Somalia may slow. From 2023 to early 2026, Gulf leaders sought to shape political outcomes and advance investment and logistics interests. If this tempo slows, Horn actors will face less patronage and mediation, which may lead either to a pause in tensions or to quick escalation.

Secondly, Israel’s recognition of Somaliland – which Qatar and Saudi Arabia (as well as Egypt and Turkey) have taken a stand against – is now likely to be far from their agendas. Somalia’s long-standing ambition of reabsorbing Somaliland may also find waning external support.

Thirdly, Ethiopia’s interest in gaining access to the Red Sea has been one of the central issues in recent diplomatic manoeuvring in the Horn. With Saudi Arabia, in particular, focused on Iran, Addis Ababa may feel emboldened to formalise access through Somaliland (with which it had signed an agreement in 2024).

Turkey and Egypt may remain engaged

Two non-Gulf states, however, are likely to remain active in the Horn: Turkey and Egypt.

Turkey can still afford foreign policy opportunism in the region, as long as it does not become directly involved in the Iran war. For Ankara, the Gulf states’ distraction may create an opportunity to expand its influence. This could be through trying to help Somalia reassert control over Somaliland and other autonomous regions. It could also encourage Ethiopia to reduce tensions with Eritrea, or help balance relations between Ethiopia and Egypt. These would all enhance Turkey’s reputation outside its region and reinforce the image it has of itself as a rising, global power.


Read more: Egypt-Ethiopia hostilities are playing out in the Horn – the risk of new proxy wars is high


Egypt’s involvement is driven by existential concerns over the Nile. This is particularly about a dispute with Ethiopia over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam. This is a massive project on the Blue Nile that Egypt fears could reduce the flow of water on which its agriculture, economy and population depend.

For both Turkey and Egypt, curtailing Israel’s growing influence across the wider Middle East and the Horn of Africa remains a strategic priority. A stronger Israel would dilute Turkey’s desired role as a broker and patron in the Horn, and complicate Egypt’s efforts to constrain Ethiopia.

An emboldened Israel, however, could also reshape Egypt’s engagement with Ethiopia. Egypt and Turkey might offer Ethiopia’s Abiy Ahmed diplomatic incentives – including limited or symbolic access to the Red Sea in Somaliland’s port of Berbera, for instance. This would be in return for Addis Ababa’s agreement to reaffirm Somalia’s territorial integrity (and never recognise Somaliland). But this seems unlikely as neither Egypt nor Turkey possesses the power to put Somalia back together again.

The Horn’s own agenda

The real powers in the Horn of Africa remain the region’s own states and rival centres of authority. Horn states have the agency and interests to shape outcomes. They have long drawn external patrons into the region, playing them off against one another to extract resources, recognition and diplomatic support.

What the Iran war changes is not who sets the Horn’s agenda, but the external conditions under which Horn actors pursue it.

Gulf states have been opportunistic precisely because they had the capacity to act in the Horn when the Gulf itself was stable. That capacity may now be constrained.

This is not a new finding. In work published over five years ago, my colleague Federico Donelli and I argued that enduring security burdens at home limited the reach of Gulf ambitions in the Horn.

The Horn’s underlying conflicts and rivalries will therefore continue to interact in unpredictable ways.

– Gulf attention is turning inward: why the Iran war could destabilise the Horn of Africa
– https://theconversation.com/gulf-attention-is-turning-inward-why-the-iran-war-could-destabilise-the-horn-of-africa-277855

Hunger crisis is set to get worse in west and central Africa – why and what to do about it

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Oliver Kiptoo Kirui, Research Fellow, International Food Policy Research Institute (IFPRI)

Countries in west and central Africa are facing a food crisis with multiple causes. Estimates in late December 2025 suggested that 41.8 million people were already in crisis or worse in October-December 2025. The number was expected to rise to 52.8 million in June-August 2026. Researchers Kirui Oliver Kiptoo and Chibuzo Nwagbosu explain how serious the situation is.

How severe is food insecurity in the region, and where are the hotspots?

Food insecurity has three aspects:

  • chronic hunger

  • constraints to food access

  • acute crises.

West Africa, the Sahel and Cameroon are in crisis, according to the World Food Programme. It is increasingly concentrated in conflict-affected corridors where markets fragment, farms are abandoned, and humanitarian access is constrained. Key areas include the Central Sahel/Liptako-Gourma region and the Lake Chad Basin.

The problem is strongly shaped by the global humanitarian financing squeeze. The World Food Programme has warned that funding shortfalls are forcing ration reductions in countries like Mali.

Between October and December 2025, it was estimated that 41.78 million people faced food insecurity. For the June-August 2026 lean season, it is projected 52.78 million are at risk. The Food and Agriculture Organisation’s January 2026 regional update aligns with this projection.

The World Food Programme, covering a broader “west and central Africa” framing, has warned that June-August 2026 could see 55 million people endure “crisis hunger or worse”.

What is driving the crisis?

The crisis is best understood as layered risk:

  • conflict and governance shocks create vulnerability

  • climate events and price spikes trigger acute deterioration

  • weak safety nets make recovery fragile.

Conflict, insecurity and governance fragmentation:

Conflict and insecurity are repeatedly identified in analysis as determinants. They shut down markets, restrict movement, displace households, and limit humanitarian reach.

The Democratic Republic of Congo and Central African Republic Integrated Food Security Phase Classification analysis clearly describes persistent crisis-level food insecurity. This is linked to conflict dynamics and associated economic stressors.

Governance shocks can amplify market disruption. Observations noted the role of border closures and disrupted financial flows linked to Ecowas sanctions on Niger. Political events can transmit into food access constraints.

Climate shocks and environmental stress:

Cadre Harmonisé (a regional framework used for the analysis and identification of areas at risk and populations affected by food and nutrition insecurity) flagged floods as determinants as early as the 2023 cycle. It noted heavy rains damaging crops in parts of Ghana, Niger and Chad. In a region where livelihoods remain heavily dependent on rainfed agriculture and pastoral systems, even “good production years” can coexist with acute food insecurity when insecurity blocks access to fields and markets.

Economic shocks, food price inflation and market disruptions:

The State of Food Security and Nutrition in the World (2025) highlights how elevated inflation undermines purchasing power and access to healthy diets. It emphasises that food price inflation is not just a macroeconomic variable but shapes nutrition and food security outcomes.

Displacement and disrupted livelihoods:

Displacement is both a symptom and a driver. It reduces household production and income, increases dependency, and strains host-community services and markets. The current displacement burden is massive across the region’s key hotspots. United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees operational data shows that the DRC has about 6.47 million internally displaced persons, Nigeria has 3.54 million, Cameroon 1.0 million and Niger 0.59 million.

What is the impact of a reduction in food aid?

In late 2024 and early 2025, several major humanitarian donors – including the United States and a number of European governments – announced reductions or delays in aid disbursements amid domestic fiscal pressures and competing global crises. The effects were immediate in the Sahel. By early 2025, only about 50% of the funding required for humanitarian operations in the region had been mobilised.

Funding shortages are no longer just a logistical problem for aid agencies. They are now directly contributing to rising hunger and malnutrition. When funding falls, fewer people are reached, food rations are reduced, and nutrition programs are interrupted, especially during predictable seasonal peaks when needs are highest peaks.

The World Food Programme’s evidence from the central Sahel is unusually explicit. It reports that in Mali, where rations have been reduced due to funding shortages, the population facing crisis-level hunger has surged by 64% since 2023. In areas where full rations were maintained, the population facing crisis-level or worse hunger declined by 34%.

This suggests aid makes a big difference.

Funding constraints also reduce the region’s ability to prevent malnutrition deaths. The World Food Programme warned in January 2026 that the region could see 13 million children suffering malnutrition and described how assistance and nutrition programming would have to be scaled down without urgent funding.

Unicef’s Burkina Faso situation reporting is similar. It notes that food is being delivered “despite funding constraints”, even as insecurity and displacement rise.

At the system level, UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs reporting illustrates that Sahel humanitarian operations have repeatedly run with major gaps. It notes that only about half of the required funding has been mobilised for targeted assistance. A Sahel regional needs overview for 2025 warned early in the year that only 8% of required funding had been received. This very low funding at the beginning of the year makes it more likely that food and nutrition supplies will run out before the lean season begins.

What should be done?

The evidence points to an approach that combines short-term emergency response, medium-term recovery measures, and long-term structural reform.

Short-term actions:

Governments and regional bodies should treat the lean season as a predictable hazard. They must allow markets to work and aid to reach people who need it.

Cadre Harmonisé repeatedly shows that crisis outcomes concentrate where markets are disrupted and movement is unsafe.

The World Food Programme has warned that without urgent funding, millions may lose assistance. Donors can make sure nutrition-specific support is delivered in addition to general food aid and cash transfers – not replaced by them. Wasting levels are already high in several hotspot countries.

NGOs should scale up cash transfers where markets still function, and shift to in-kind where conflict isolates areas.

Medium-term actions:

Governments should expand social protection that can increase quickly when prices spike or floods hit. This is key especially where most households have to buy (not grow) their food.

Regional bodies should ease trade across borders and issue early warnings. This can reduce policy uncertainty that unsettles prices.

Humanitarian and development actors should focus on livelihood recovery where people have been displaced. For example, land restoration investments can deliver large returns and reduce repeat emergency caseloads.

Long-term actions:

The long-term objective is to address three constraints that keep arising: insecurity; weak services; and limited resilience in climate-sensitive food.

First, national governments and regional security mechanisms must pursue durable stabilisation strategies. Agricultural recovery and market integration can’t happen where there is conflict.

Second, invest in human capital and basic services that directly reduce nutrition mortality. These include primary healthcare, safe water, and child feeding programmes. Unicef’s Burkina Faso reporting shows large caseloads of severe acute malnutrition treatment even when there isn’t talk of a “famine”.

Finally, build climate resilience. This can be done through water control, soil fertility and rangeland management, and diversified income strategies. Financing should reward prevention, not only response.

– Hunger crisis is set to get worse in west and central Africa – why and what to do about it
– https://theconversation.com/hunger-crisis-is-set-to-get-worse-in-west-and-central-africa-why-and-what-to-do-about-it-276798

Sophie Oluwole, the trailblazing Nigerian woman who redefined philosophy

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Christophe Premat, Professor, Canadian and Cultural Studies, Stockholm University

Sophie Oluwole (1935-2018) was a Nigerian scholar and the first woman to earn a PhD in philosophy in her country. She not only placed Nigeria’s rich Yoruba philosophical tradition on the intellectual map, she also helped redefine African philosophy, a field dominated by men.

As a scholar of cultural studies with a focus on francophone and west Africa, I recently co-authored, in French, a book called African Intellectual Sensitivities: From Western Discourse to African Voices (1988-2022). One of its chapters is devoted to Oluwole and African women intellectuals.

She did much more than break gender barriers. By placing Nigeria’s Yoruba thought in dialogue with the famed western philosophers like Socrates, she challenged the assumption that African philosophy was merely folklore. To her it was a rigorous intellectual tradition.

Who gets to think?

For centuries, western philosophy presented itself as the universal measure of reason. Beginning with German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831), influential strands of western philosophy described Africa as “outside history”.

The continent was said to lack philosophy because it lacked a written tradition comparable to ancient Greece’s. Rational thought, many argued, needed text.

It was against this assumption that Oluwole built her work. She did not simply ask for African thinkers to be added to reading lists. She questioned the criteria used to define philosophy. In the process, she challenged a long-standing intellectual hierarchy.

A philosopher between worlds

Born in 1935 in what is today Ondo State, Sophie Bosede Olayemi Oluwole came of age during the final decades of British rule and the intense debates that would culminate in independence in 1960.

Like many girls of her generation, she initially trained as a teacher. But her intellectual curiosity pushed her further. She enrolled to study philosophy at the University of Ibadan, then the country’s premier university. It was an unusual choice for a Nigerian woman in the 1960s. She earned her PhD there in 1984.

Pursuing a doctoral degree took persistence in an academic culture overwhelmingly dominated by men. Her path reflects both the new educational opportunities after independence and the structural barriers women still faced in higher education.

Her intellectual career unfolded from the 1970s through the early 2000s, while Nigerian universities were wrestling with their post-independence identity. After 1960, several institutions sought to Africanise curricula and leadership. Yet philosophy departments often remained anchored in European traditions.

Oluwole herself was Yoruba, one of the largest ethnic and language groups in west Africa. The Yoruba were concentrated mainly in south-western Nigeria but also present in Benin and Togo.

Yoruba thinking is structured around a cosmology linking the visible and invisible worlds, ancestors and descendants, individual destiny and communal responsibility. Knowledge is not separated from ethics or spirituality; wisdom is understood as practical guidance for living well within a web of relationships.

She focused on the corpus of Ifá, a vast body of oral literature linked to ethics, cosmology and reflection on human destiny. At its centre stands Òrúnmìlà, a figure associated with wisdom and knowledge.

Oluwole discusses the meaning of Yoruba carving. Screengrab/YouTube/Juul vaan der Laan

For Oluwole, Òrúnmìlà was not just a religious figure. He functioned as a philosopher – a teacher of critical inquiry and moral reasoning whose insights were preserved through disciplined oral storytelling.

She drew comparisons between him and the Greek philosopher Socrates. Socrates left no written work of his own. His ideas were transmitted through dialogue and memory. Why, then, should the spoken word disqualify an African thinker from being recognised as philosophical?

The problem, she insisted, was not Africa’s lack of philosophy. It was the narrow definition of philosophy inherited from Europe – one that privileged written texts and dismissed oral traditions as pre-philosophical. By questioning that definition, Oluwole was not only defending Yoruba thought. She was expanding philosophy itself.

The politics of the spoken

At the centre of Oluwole’s work was a simple but disruptive question: must philosophy be written to exist? In her book Philosophy and Oral Tradition (1997), she argued that African oral texts – including myths, proverbs and Ifá verses – contain structured reasoning and critical reflection, and therefore meet the criteria of philosophical thought. Texts are preserved, cited and institutionalised.

She exposed the colonial logic behind this hierarchy. During the 1800s and early 1900s, European scholars often portrayed Africa as a continent of myth rather than reason.

The absence of classical written texts was interpreted as intellectual absence. But storytelling does not prevent intellectual reasoning. Writing does not automatically produce critical thought. By analysing Ifá verses, Oluwole showed that they contain ethical reasoning, reflection on causality (cause and effect) and debate about human responsibility.

Her work entered into dialogue with broader debates in African philosophy. Thinkers like Benin’s Paulin Hountondji criticised the idea that African philosophy was only a collective worldview. They argued for critical and argumentative traditions. Oluwole demonstrated that such critical reasoning could also be embedded in oral forms.

A trailblazing woman

Oluwole’s work cannot be separated from her position as a woman. Philosophy remains one of the most male-dominated disciplines worldwide.

But Oluwole faced a double challenge. She was a woman in philosophy. She was also an African philosopher confronting Eurocentric standards.

She would become an increasingly public figure, making many TV appearances and speaking engagements, always spurring debate.

Why she matters today

The questions Sophie Oluwole raised remain pressing.

As calls to decolonise knowledge grow, universities around the world are rethinking what they teach. Yet change often focuses on adding authors to the syllabus. The deeper issue concerns the criteria used to define knowledge.

Oluwole’s work invites a more structural reflection. If philosophy is defined too narrowly, inclusion will remain limited. The definition of philosophy itself must be examined.


Read more: Achille Mbembe on how to restore the humanity stolen by racism


Her argument also speaks beyond Africa. Many indigenous knowledge systems continue to be marginalised because they are transmitted orally or embedded in ritual and narrative. They are treated as cultural heritage rather than intellectual production.

By defending the philosophical depth of Yoruba thought, Oluwole challenged this hierarchy. She showed that philosophy is not the property of one civilisation. It is a human practice shaped by different media and histories.

– Sophie Oluwole, the trailblazing Nigerian woman who redefined philosophy
– https://theconversation.com/sophie-oluwole-the-trailblazing-nigerian-woman-who-redefined-philosophy-277382

Solar power in rural Zimbabwe hasn’t reduced women’s unpaid work: can policy do better?

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Ellen Fungisai Chipango, Senior Research Associate, University of Johannesburg

Zimbabwe’s 2019 renewable energy policy envisions a transition to green energy in which women and men participate equally and benefit equitably.

But the real test of this promise lies in whether women and men have equal access to renewable energy and are able to use it for the tasks they most need to accomplish in their everyday lives.

As an energy justice researcher, I wanted to find out how residents, government officials and energy non-governmental organisations view gender (in)equality in the move to green energy.

I chose to interview people from Zingondi (a rural area in the Manicaland province of Zimbabwe) because this area offers a clear case of how renewable energy policy plays out in low-income, rural areas that are not connected to the national grid.


Read more: Green energy doesn’t benefit everyone: ubuntu ideas can help include more people


I asked the people I interviewed what a truly equal and equitable energy policy would look like in practice. By equal, I mean giving women and men the same opportunities and access to energy. By equitable, I mean recognising that they often start from unequal social and economic positions, and that women may therefore need additional support (funds, training, or extra decision-making powers) to reach the same level of energy access and benefit as men.

Solar lantern in Zingondi. Courtesy Ellen Fungisai Chipango

There are about 39 households living in Zingondi. They are not connected to the national electricity grid. To cook, they use fuelwood and what’s left after crops are harvested (biomass). Many families live in thatched mud houses. When I visited, I saw that all families used solar lanterns. Some also had solar panels to charge phones and radios.

My research found that having such limited access to electricity did nothing to change traditional gender roles where women do a lot more unpaid work around the house than men. For example, women remained primarily responsible for cooking on fire. They also had very little control over new forms of solar energy (what to buy and how to fix it if it broke) as these decisions and actions were controlled by the men in the families.

Overall, women saw little change in their economic or decision-making power even though clean forms of energy had come into their lives.


Read more: How socio-economic conditions shape renewable energy uptake in Zimbabwe


My findings show that even new renewable energy is never neutral. It is shaped by power: who controls resources, who captures the benefits, and who remains excluded. Achieving gender equality in energy transitions needs more than introducing small solar devices or promising future grid access.

Zimbabwe’s energy policies must move beyond promises of gender equality in energy access and deliver real transformation on the ground. The country’s renewable energy policy commits to gender equality and women’s participation, but pays less attention to whether this is taking place.

If this change does not happen, new energy initiatives will simply prop up existing gender hierarchies which leave women at the bottom, rather than transforming women’s lives.

Solar power in rural Zingondi

Zingondi is a resettlement area (where land was redistributed under the fast-track land reform programme to small-scale farmers) whose households have three hectares of land each.

Most families there depend on small-scale farming to grow food. But they face problems of insecure land rights (they only have temporary licences to occupy the land), political disputes, and limited access to resources to develop their farms.


Read more: Green energy for all: Zimbabwe will need a new social contract to roll out projects like solar power


At first glance, the solar lanterns in every home, purchased by the residents, indicate that universal access to affordable, reliable and modern energy is being achieved. But when I asked women how solar energy had improved their lives, their responses were cautious.

First, many women were still cooking with firewood, because small solar devices can’t power electric stoves. One female participant observed:

When I am cooking using semi-dried wood, no one can even enter the kitchen because of the smoke. It is like a prison cell!

Second, they had little decision-making power over energy:

Solar gives men more power to control us in the home … if it’s not the money to buy the gadgets, such as solar lanterns, it’s how to use them, or it’s about when and where to buy a replacement.

A tiny solar panel charging during the day in Zingondi. Courtesy Ellen Fungisai Chipango

Third, the quality of solar lanterns varied. Families that received remittances from relatives working in South Africa were able to afford higher-quality appliances. But poorer households could not. Cheap solar lanterns often overheated and “blew” after a short time. Paying for replacements placed financial strain on many women.

Fourth, having light at night made the working day for these rural women even longer:

Having a light bulb (solar lantern) means more work to cover, not to relax. The reason is: I am a woman!

Women also reported that their husbands did not allow them to travel to renewable energy meetings where they could learn more about solar power.

Some women hid small amounts of money from their husbands to avoid conflict or to retain some financial autonomy for buying electricity later – known in ChiShona as kusungirira mari muchiuno (“to tie money around the waist”). But because these savings were hidden, the women couldn’t spend them on larger or more reliable solar energy systems.

What needs to happen next

Zimbabwe’s energy transition must make sure that women are not just passive recipients of energy infrastructure but active participants in shaping how energy is accessed, used and managed.

Women begin from unequal positions. So energy policies must tackle the question of the power relations that shape who controls resources within households and communities.


Read more: Zambia’s forest communities need finance for solar power – so they don’t have to cut down trees to pay for it


Zimbabwe’s energy policy emphasises women’s inclusion and solar entrepreneurship. However, its largely market-driven approach means that only women who can afford solar systems benefit, leaving off-grid and marginalised communities like Zingondi excluded.

To make the policy truly transformative, the government could take these steps:

  • introduce targeted subsidies, micro grants or low-interest loans for rural women

  • support community-shared solar schemes

  • set quotas for women in resettlement areas to participate in renewable energy schemes

  • convene training in local areas where childcare is provided, so that women can participate

  • set up mentorship programmes to strengthen women’s leadership and decision-making

  • implement regular monitoring to ensure that women not only participate but also gain meaningful control over energy resources.

This is happening in other countries. In rural Bangladesh, women have been trained as solar technicians, and in Nepal, women have taken on leading roles in managing tiny, micro hydro plants.


Read more: Why renewable energy won’t end energy poverty in Zimbabwe


In India, government‑linked schemes such as the Ministry of New and Renewable Energy’s Women in Renewable Energy initiative provide training and business support that expand women’s participation in the energy sector.

Unless these changes are made, solar energy infrastructure will expand in rural Zimbabwe without expanding equality.

– Solar power in rural Zimbabwe hasn’t reduced women’s unpaid work: can policy do better?
– https://theconversation.com/solar-power-in-rural-zimbabwe-hasnt-reduced-womens-unpaid-work-can-policy-do-better-276287

Faith leaders joined the fight against woman abuse in the DRC. Did it help?

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Meg A. Warren, Professor of Management, Western Washington University

Can pastors, imams and rabbis be allies to women and children and help stop gender-based violence?

Many wars have been fought in the name of religion. Much pain and dehumanisation has been inflicted on women and girls in the name of religious culture. So, it wouldn’t be surprising for there to be cynicism about the question.

But, in fact, a growing body of research shows that faith leaders can be powerful allies against social ills like gender-based violence.

As a social-organisational psychologist, I research how people use their strengths and the strengths of their culture to assist those who are suffering in their society.


Read more: Sexual violence: a weapon of war in eastern Congo for more than 20 years


My colleagues, Karen Torjesen and Grace Ngare, and I set out to study the impacts of a year-long intervention by religious leaders in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). The religious leaders had initiated a programme that they hoped would contribute to social change when it came to gender-based violence within marriage, gender roles in the family, and male allyship in the community.

Our study found that faith leaders could indeed be activated as champions of positive social change. They can activate entire communities – men and women – to come together to address gender-based violence. We found that the ripple effect can endure and extend well beyond initial efforts.

A history of violence

The Second Congo War (1998–2003) was one of Africa’s deadliest civil wars, claiming as many as 3 million lives.

Systematic rape was wielded as a weapon of war. The DRC earned the unfortunate label of “rape capital of the world”. Internally displaced women and girls were viewed by armed militia as soft targets.

From the 2000s, boys in the DRC who had been recruited as child soldiers were returning home as young adults. They had been taught that women were no more than “spoils of the war”.

Without the support of therapy, they had to reintegrate into their families and live among their mothers, aunts and sisters, and start their own families. Predictably, gender-based violence was rampant.

Ending it was a clear goal for the health and stability of civil society.


Read more: I was a child soldier – here’s what it’ll take to protect young lives in conflict zones


At the same time, women were reluctant to report the men who raped them. In addition to cultural norms of silence and shame around sexual violence, they did not want to have their brothers, sons and husbands locked up in prison. The community had to find another means to restore women’s safety and well-being while also protecting the fabric of their society.

In a context of crumbling infrastructure, the people who truly understood the extent of the rape and violence against women were not the police or other authorities. Rather, it was the quiet presence of the church pastors and the wives of the imams that the women confided in.

The pastors and imams decided to use their influence to teach congregants about healthy interpersonal relationships – where respect, gender equity, nonviolence and empowerment were key.

The Tamar Campaign

In 2013, their three-year initiative, the Tamar Campaign, was delivered directly and through spin-off efforts to more than 30,000 people across multiple cities and villages in the DRC. Participants each attended the programme for about a year.

Created by the Fellowship of Christian Councils and Churches in the Great Lakes and the Horn of Africa, this was an interfaith, inter-organisational effort to combat gender-based violence through the use of scriptures and the engagement of communities. It was named after the story of the rape of Tamar in the Old Testament – a common thread across Christianity, Islam and Judaism – in which a daughter of King David was raped by her brother.

Because of toxic gender norms around what it meant to be a man, the men returning from war had not learned how to identify their own emotions, how to speak about their emotions, or how to see the emotions of others and work with them.


Read more: The war after the war: How violence is passed down through generations


The goal was to use stories from scripture as the entry point to teach men how to be better allies to women and girls. In the story of Tamar, for example, rape combines elements of incest, domestic violence and the conspiracy of men. When Tamar sought help after being raped, she was told to be quiet. This displays the culture of silence around such acts.

In each monthly session run by the faith leaders, scriptural stories were introduced as an entry point to openly discuss gender-based violence within a mixed-gender setting. They lifted the shroud of silence in a sacred and safe space, often a house of worship. Next, participants discussed gender-based violence in their own families and the community. They talked about how they could become agents of change.

In the process, in monthly group sessions of 25 or so people, the programme sought to teach socio-emotional skills, detoxify notions of masculinity, deepen understanding between men and women, strengthen their relationships, and develop action plans for healing, repair and allyship.

The study

My research team evaluated the effectiveness of this intervention four years later. In a field study, a survey was given to Tamar participants, and matching control groups in North and South Kivu.

We found that those in the programme had a 50%-85% lower incidence of violence, with larger drops in violence in North Kivu compared to South Kivu. It was a dramatic success story.

This tremendous drop in violence happened after many earlier interventions to address the problem had failed. Typical advocacy-based interventions failed because women worried that even if they became better at advocating for themselves, the fabric of society would disintegrate – the women would be beaten, ousted from their community, and lose their children. Their only choice seemed to be silence – unless the intervention wasn’t about the women at all, but about turning the men into their allies.

My team studied the results, including the effects on the participants’ marital relationships. We found, amazingly, that their relationships were better than when women had remained silent. There were accounts of women and men communicating and dealing with emotional issues with respect, rather than derision.


Read more: Women activists in the DRC show how effective alliances can be forged


Long after the funding had ended, other groups and communities who had heard about the programme borrowed the Tamar curriculum, with positive results. The allyship was still spreading and still having an impact. Community members were intervening when they saw violence occur among their neighbours or their extended family. They were being allies out in the world, not just for their own partner or immediate families.

This offers one example of how cultural phenomena like religion can be a resource to combat large, complex and entrenched societal problems. Congolese participants were drawing on their strength, building relationships, prioritising healing, and thinking in the long term to shift a toxic culture from the inside out.

– Faith leaders joined the fight against woman abuse in the DRC. Did it help?
– https://theconversation.com/faith-leaders-joined-the-fight-against-woman-abuse-in-the-drc-did-it-help-277270

What does a house mean to you? We asked some women who head households in South Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Mziwandile Sobantu, Professor, University of Johannesburg

South Africa’s new democratic government inherited a 1.5 million housing backlog in 1994, which it has been struggling to close. The current national deficit stands at 2 million.

The 2025 White Paper for Human Settlements records that government has delivered 5.2 million houses and housing opportunities (units or subsidies) since 1994. But rapid urbanisation, population growth and the pace of housing provision by government have meant that there’s still a shortfall.

Many of the people who face housing challenges are women who bear full responsibility for childcare and families. In two of the province’s main metropolitan areas, Ekurhuleni and Johannesburg, four in ten families are headed by women. Many have to resort to inadequate housing in informal settlements and backyard dwellings.

We are social work research academics who recently explored what housing means to female-headed households living in a low-income community in Kathrada Park, Johannesburg. Rather than treating housing only as shelter or physical asset, the study examined how women experience and interpret their homes in the context of their everyday lives.

The findings show that housing is not just about having a roof overhead. It is also about dignity, control, emotional security and belonging. These meanings are shaped by women’s life histories, including migration, widowhood, divorce and caregiving roles. They also challenge narrow policy definitions of what constitutes adequate housing.

Understanding housing through people’s lived experiences is critical in a country where women increasingly shoulder the responsibility of sustaining families.

Housing is a basic right and human need which is enshrined in South Africa’s 1996 constitution. The International Bill of Rights cites adequate housing as a measure of social progress as well as a commitment to build the economy.

Women in Kathrada Park

In urban areas such as Kathrada Park in Johannesburg, women head households under conditions shaped by gender inequality, economic precarity and social responsibility. Unemployment, particularly for Black women, remains very high in the country.

Kathrada Park.

Our study was based on interviews with eight female heads of households aged between 37 and 71. Qualitative research with smaller samples allows researchers to gain in-depth descriptions of whatever they are studying. All were single women heading households, had lived in Kathrada Park for at least two years, had their own accommodation, and were engaged in either formal or informal livelihood activities. Some were supporting children, adult dependants or grandchildren.

Rather than focusing only on material conditions, we asked a simple but powerful question:

What does a house mean to you?

Their responses revealed three closely connected themes: dignity and self-worth, safety and security, and livelihood.

Theme 1: Housing as dignity and self-worth

For many participants, having a house, however modest, was a source of pride. In a society where women heading households may be stigmatised or blamed for poverty, a home symbolised responsibility, achievement and resilience. One woman explained:

…you get dignity when you live in a house.

For her, housing was not only about protection from the elements, but also about being respected by her children and by others in the community.

Small acts of homemaking such as painting walls, planting a garden or keeping the space orderly carried deep emotional meaning. These practices were ways of asserting identity and self-worth in contexts marked by exclusion and hardship. Housing was not only about ownership or tenure; it was about being able to say: I am a capable woman, providing for my family.

All participants emphasised that, despite raising children on their own, their families had shelter and a home, could use flushing toilets, and had access to water and electricity. These basic services, often taken for granted elsewhere, gave them a strong sense of pride and self-respect.


Read more: Health risks at home: a study in six African countries shows how healthy housing saves children’s lives


Theme 2: Housing as safety for women and children

Safety emerged as a central concern in participants’ lives. South Africa experiences high levels of crime and gender-based violence. Participants spoke about fear of break-ins, violence and insecurity while also describing their homes as offering some degree of protection.

As one woman put it:

It’s a pity that our community is not safe. You just have to live and pray that nothing will happen to you till the next day. A good house is very important here.

For these women, housing represented a fragile but crucial buffer against exposure to danger. It provided a place where children could sleep behind locked doors, where families could retreat from public risk, and where a sense of control, however limited, could be maintained.

This highlights an important reality: even poor-quality housing can improve safety and wellbeing compared to homelessness or informal living arrangements. For female-headed households, the home often functions as the primary line of defence against vulnerability.

Theme 3: Housing as livelihood

Housing was also closely linked to livelihood and economic survival. Several participants used their homes to grow vegetables, support small-scale food production, or supplement household income in other ways.

One woman explained:

This garden is helping us so much. At least my kids at the creche get to eat greens every day, which is good. And it keeps us busy.

Her home enabled both food security and daily activity. Other participants highlighted the importance of location. Being close to schools, transport routes, or informal work opportunities made daily survival possible.

Housing was therefore not only a place to live, but a base from which women sustained their families economically. This reinforces the idea that housing cannot be separated from broader questions of poverty, care and economic inclusion.


Read more: South Africa’s addressing system is still not in place: a clear vision is needed


Women and disadvantage

Across many societies, women remain disadvantaged in three interrelated dimensions: limited access to education, lower economic returns for heavier workloads, and persistent barriers to socioeconomic mobility. These inequalities have direct consequences for housing outcomes, often resulting in inadequate housing or, in some cases, the absence of stable shelter altogether.


Read more: South Africa’s low-cost housing model is broken – study suggests how to fix it


For many female-headed households in South Africa, housing is the difference between vulnerability and survival. It is a place of safety in an often-unsafe world, a space of autonomy following loss or separation, and a foundation from which women care for children, elders and themselves. Yet access to quality housing and property has long been skewed against women in many developing societies, undermining not only their right to shelter but also their access to safety, security, piped water, electricity and sanitation.

Our findings show that for women who head households, housing is not simply about shelter. It’s about the possibility of belonging in a society marked by inequality and uncertainty.

Contributor Lydia Mmola was a postgraduate student when this study was conducted.

– What does a house mean to you? We asked some women who head households in South Africa
– https://theconversation.com/what-does-a-house-mean-to-you-we-asked-some-women-who-head-households-in-south-africa-275012

Women farmers in South Africa pay the cost of broken irrigation systems – the story of one cooperative

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Elizabeth Hull, Senior Lecturer in Social Anthropology, SOAS, University of London

The South African government makes a great deal of the fact that it supports women’s empowerment in agriculture.

But does it?

As an anthropologist, I’ve been engaged in long-term ethnographic research in KwaZulu-Natal since 2007, focusing mostly on rural food systems and food-based livelihoods and before that on health care.

We conducted research into the Isibonelo Cooperative, a small-scale women-led farming cooperative in KwaZulu-Natal. We found that weak governance and old infrastructure had led to women’s dispossession from the land they had farmed for decades.

This isn’t happening through formal dispossession, but because failing irrigation infrastructure is making farming impossible. Old and damaged equipment, high operating costs, and institutional barriers interact to limit the viability of smallholder farming on South Africa’s smallholder irrigation schemes.


Read more: Rural women farmers in South Africa: how global promises aren’t translating into support on the ground


The inability of the women to farm has significantly affected their wellbeing, and that of their families.

Women make a substantial contribution to smallholder farming in South Africa. They have the skills and determination to farm. But they depend on adequate water infrastructure and functioning institutional arrangements to make it happen.

The collapse of farming in Makhathini

The Isibonelo Cooperative is a small-scale women-led farming cooperative in KwaZulu-Natal. It belongs to the Makhathini Irrigation Scheme, situated in the north of the province near the borders of Eswatini and Mozambique.

Cooperatives have long been promoted in South African policy as democratic, entrepreneurial entities that facilitate inclusion of women and youth. In practice, they are often fragile, state-dependent institutions that manage resource sharing in precarious circumstances.

We initially chose Isibonelo for our research due to its long-term success at growing food and supporting local families and markets. Until recently, it was successful compared to many cooperatives.

The Makhathini Irrigation Scheme was established in the 1970s by the then apartheid government. The government forcibly resettled local residents to make way for the scheme and in collaboration with chiefs, allocated newly formed 10ha plots to male farmers. Women were excluded from the process.

A group of women organised themselves and successfully applied for a shared plot, which they subdivided into individual plots or “gardens” of 0.2 hectares each. Some of the women were local residents while others were new arrivals who had been forcibly expelled from their homes on white-owned farmland as part of a notorious process of mass evictions carried out by the apartheid regime.

The women continued to grow food into the democratic period after 1994. And its success attracted attention.

Between 2011 and 2018, my research collaborator, Khulekani Dlamini, and I conducted ethnographic research with the Isibonelo Cooperative. It was successfully producing food for families and regional markets. It operated effectively under modest conditions, providing its members with a structure for productive activity, household improvement, and local sharing of labour and resources. But in 2018, farming activity ceased due to broken pipes. Despite repeated efforts by members to raise the issue with authorities, water supply to the gardens has not been restored.

As a result, the cooperative’s agricultural operations have halted almost entirely.

A wider problem

The problem is far wider than this scheme alone. In 2007, over a third of South Africa’s 317 smallholder irrigation schemes were inactive. Recent studies suggest that the revitalisation of schemes has been sporadic, and they remain inhibited by structural problems. These include market access, access to credit, physical infrastructure and governance of the schemes. Beyond Makhathini, farmers have abandoned plots due to difficulties accessing water.

Yet the absence of comprehensive recent data inhibits a clear understanding of the scale of the problem.


Read more: Big irrigation projects in Africa have failed to deliver. What’s needed next


In some cases, a focus on expensive technology upgrades has necessitated high yielding commercial production to ensure financial viability. In turn this has led to the unintended demise of smallholder projects. Across Makhathini and other schemes, cost recovery is low as farmers struggle to pay for operational bills in a context of intermittent and unreliable water.


Read more: African land policy reforms have been good for women and communities – but review of 18 countries shows major gaps


Impact on local economies and food security

The schemes are a vital part of the local economy. Before farming was interrupted, the cooperative was more than a means of survival. It enabled women to improve their homes, feed their families, engage in urban markets, and maintain some economic independence in a region with high unemployment and limited formal opportunities.


Read more: Feeding Africa: how small-scale irrigation can help farmers to change the game


To understand what had changed, Dlamini returned to Makhathini between 2022 and 2025 to interview 11 cooperative members, their relatives and neighbouring farmers.

They reported that the collapse of farming has led to loss of income, food insecurity, household debt, mental health challenges, and a decline in local cooperation including food sharing and stokvel (informal saving club) participation.

Rising prices have compounded these problems. One member told us:

Today we are buying everything that we used to grow for ourselves… We never bought vegetables (previously), but today we are buying from other farmers and in shops at high prices.

Home extensions initiated by farming income stood incomplete. One member had moved away from the area, troubled by poultry theft and no longer able to farm. Some found work cutting grass as part of government employment schemes or selling clothes door-to-door. Others relied on borrowing from local store owners. One member stated her challenges candidly:

I am struggling to buy enough food for my grandchildren and I am always in debt.

The group has made repeated efforts to raise the issue with relevant authorities. But water supply to the gardens has not been restored. The lack of clear accountability for infrastructure maintenance, coupled with a fragmented governance environment involving traditional leaders, municipal authorities and parastatal entities, contributes to inaction.

Today the gardens are overgrown. The women are still waiting for water. The impact extends to future generations as opportunities to pass valuable farming knowledge and skills to younger family members dwindles.

What needs to happen next?

Political attention focuses on the speed and scale of land transfers as part of the government’s flagship land reform programme. But apartheid era irrigation schemes also deserve much greater attention. Targeted and appropriate support could enable recovery.


Read more: Land reform in South Africa: what the real debate should be about


For this to be sustainable, the focus must extend beyond technology fixes to address deeper problems in the governance of the schemes. These must tackle how top-down management has impeded the potentiality of smallholders.

There is an urgent need for irrigation infrastructure to be repaired and restored on plots where smallholders have the potential to return to farming. Rainwater is unreliable and other water sources are far too limited to grow food without irrigation.

Local governance structures must be better coordinated by clarifying the role of scheme management bodies, municipal officials, traditional leaders, and provincial departments. Farmers will then better understand who is responsible for water, maintenance and dispute resolution.

The voice of farmers, especially women and cooperatives, must be strengthened through improved local liaison structures and strengthening procedures for maintenance requests.

Training and support must be developed that is tailored to both group-level and individual needs, recognising that individual production affects group-level viability and developing finance models that accommodate this uncertainty.

Khulekani T. Dlamini was a co-researcher and contributed to this article.

– Women farmers in South Africa pay the cost of broken irrigation systems – the story of one cooperative
– https://theconversation.com/women-farmers-in-south-africa-pay-the-cost-of-broken-irrigation-systems-the-story-of-one-cooperative-271855

Women and wealth: what stands in their way and how to overcome it

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Bomikazi Zeka, Associate Professor in Finance, University of Canberra

You’ve probably heard the saying, “The rich become richer, while the poor become poorer”. It’s about how uneven financial progress can be.

One of the reasons behind financial inequality is the gender pay gap, but the wealth gap is even more revealing. It explains why disparities persist between the rich and the poor. Wealth – your assets, savings, property and retirement provisions – is the true measure of long-term financial security.

Research shows that wealth gaps aren’t created by gender alone. Aspects like race, class, education, disability, age and nationality also influence the distribution of wealth. When these aspects overlap, they create forms of exclusion or privilege that become more powerful over time.

For example, women who come from single parent homes or low-income neighbourhoods are at a disadvantage because this environment can negatively influence their job opportunities, career progression and financial independence. In contrast, women from wealthier families tend to have higher education levels, access to professional networks, better-paid jobs and more money left over for investments.

As a result, some women begin their wealth-building journey on higher ground before they even enter the labour market. Others have obstacles they first need to overcome.

Because of this, we know that inequality doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Our research explored why the income women earn now is not indicative of the ability to build wealth.

We explored the systems that keep people marginalised and how they overcome them. We identify three main things that set women back financially:

  • career interruptions

  • restricted access to capital

  • social norms.

The good news is that financial literacy can create opportunities for women to shift their financial direction, even if inequality has been piling up for years. Financial literacy is the ability to understand and manage money confidently. We recommend ways it can be improved.

Our analysis shows that five benefits flow from women becoming more financially literate. These are:

  • improved savings habits

  • increased confidence in investing

  • better debt management

  • the ability to build wealth across generations

  • improved retirement outcomes.

The barriers

Women face a number of barriers to achieving financial stability.

Career interruptions: Women are more responsible than men for childcare, caring for ageing parents and housekeeping. These unpaid responsibilities make it harder to save for the future.

Restricted access to capital: Because of caregiving responsibilities, many women don’t qualify for access to credit, loans or property ownership.

Social norms: Men are often seen as the financial decision-makers, leaving women out of conversations about long-term planning, investing and asset-building.

Financial systems reward those with a good financial head start and penalise those who begin with fewer resources. When all these factors come together, the result is a gender wealth gap that spans generations.

Solutions

Our research set out to understand how gender inequality affects women’s ability to build wealth and whether financial literacy makes a difference. We found that economic and social barriers like gendered occupations and caregiving pressures matter in building wealth. We also found that financial literacy can help women feel more confident about saving, investing and planning for their future.

Savings habits: Financially literate women save actively. They save before spending, instead of saving after spending. This reduces the temptation to spend impulsively. With good savings habits, you no longer rely on willpower to save: the system does the work for you. One practical way to do this is to automate transfers to a savings account the day you’re paid. Even small amounts grow over time.

Investment confidence: Research shows that women are often more risk-averse. Not because they’re inherently cautious, but because they lack confidence or have been excluded from financial conversations. Financial education changes that. Some women avoid investing because it feels complicated. When someone doesn’t understand how investing works, it’s normal to feel unsure or be afraid of making mistakes.

Financial education teaches basic concepts like how money grows over time and the tools necessary to make financial decisions. The more you understand something, the less scary it feels, and the more confident you become.

Debt becomes more manageable: Women with strong financial literacy take on less expensive debt, avoid predatory lending, and maintain better credit health. Financially literate women are more likely to borrow wisely. They compare interest rates before choosing a loan, avoid high-interest options like cash advances or instant loans, and read the details carefully before signing any contract. Financial understanding helps women recognise danger signs, ask the right questions, reject unfair offers, and choose better financial options.

Wealth-building becomes intergenerational: Financially literate women pass this knowledge on to their children. As primary caregivers, women are in a good position to do this. By teaching their children how to manage money, they help them develop essential skills early, such as saving, budgeting, and making thoughtful spending decisions. These lessons not only promote responsible financial habits but also give children the confidence to handle money matters independently. Over time, this guidance lays a strong foundation for lasting family wealth.

Retirement outcomes improve: Women live longer than men but retire with less money. Financial literacy helps women plan early and more effectively. They can take control of their financial future rather than relying on others. Strong financial skills help women achieve independence, reduce stress about the future, and enjoy a more secure and comfortable retirement.

The way forward

For financial literacy to reduce the gender wealth gap, it needs to be widely accessible and supported at multiple levels, through government policies, workplaces, schools, families and everyday conversations.

Financial literacy isn’t just about knowing budgeting tips or being able to understand compound interest. It’s about giving women the knowledge, confidence and skills to make financial decisions.

When women can ask financial questions with confidence, negotiate salaries, invest in assets and teach their children about money, their power isn’t just personal, it changes society.

– Women and wealth: what stands in their way and how to overcome it
– https://theconversation.com/women-and-wealth-what-stands-in-their-way-and-how-to-overcome-it-277379

The Iran war and global trade: will the Cape route become the new normal?

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Francois Vreÿ, Research Coordinator, Security Institute for Governance and Leadership in Africa, Stellenbosch University

Events in the Middle East during February and March 2026 again disrupted the flows of shipping trade to the eastern and western spheres of the international system.

Given that the global economy is maritime based and rests on secure and predictable flows of goods by sea, the armed attacks on Iran and their maritime spillovers sharply underlined the vulnerability of global maritime trade and its value, which is embedded in safe and predictable deliveries of goods in the interconnected global system.

Although armed attacks caught much of the attention, a more subtle development was playing out as shipping lines and insurers again contemplated the convenience of the Cape sea route around the southern tip of Africa.

Following the Israeli and US armed attacks on Iran, Tehran closed the Strait of Hormuz. The impact was severe disruption to global trade.

An infographic created on 21 December 2023. Attacks by Houthis in Yemen on commercial ships linked to Israel led companies to redirect trade between Europe and Asia to the route via the Cape of Good Hope. Photo by Omar Zaghloul/Anadolu via Getty Images

Military hostilities and insurance risk suspensions added to uncertainty and bottle-necked carriers inside and outside the Persian Gulf. This high-risk scenario again escalated the importance of the Cape sea route as a convenient alternative should hostilities widen. Iran, for example, also fired missiles towards Cyprus in the eastern Mediterranean while a US submarine sank an Iranian naval frigate in the Indian Ocean south of Sri Lanka.

Based on a widening of the conflict, it is possible that the events of March 2026 could mark a turning point in how the Cape sea route is seen. Dangerous confrontations that force shipping companies to sail along the route are increasing in frequency. Instead of simply being the standing default for diverting risks to global shipping in the north-western Indian Ocean, the route is rapidly becoming the new normal for shipping flows.

I have studied maritime security events off Africa for more than 15 years, and it appears to me that the constant re-routing now calls for less ad hoc decision-making about risks and opportunities. It calls for a rethink about how the route is viewed and managed. For example, it is in the interests of shipping companies, crews and stakeholders to ensure a safe alternative route around Africa that can also guarantee a good standard of shipping and delivery of goods.

That requires paying close attention to the risks associated with the route, and how they can be mitigated.


Read more: African states don’t prioritise maritime security – here’s why they should


African countries, and particularly South Africa with its Atlantic and Indian Ocean ports and service hubs, must become partners in ensuring a sea route of choice amid a shifting and insecure global security landscape with its maritime spillovers.

The Cape route’s value in history

Until the inauguration of the Suez Canal in November 1869, the Cape sea route was the only viable route for maritime traffic sailing between the Atlantic and Indian Oceans and onwards to the Pacific Ocean.

The Suez Canal shortened the distance for shipping, but it wasn’t a perfect solution. In 1956, 1967 and 1973, Arab-Israeli Wars caused lengthy shutdowns of the Suez Canal.

After the 1967 war, the canal remained closed for about eight years, trapping commercial vessels in its waters. Later developments also disrupted shipping through the Suez Canal and the Red Sea.

Around 2008, sea piracy resurfaced as a dangerous threat to commercial shipping off the Horn of Africa. The arrival in 2008 of an international armada of an estimated 30-40 naval vessels operating under UN Resolution 1816 contained the threat. The intervention prevented the route through the Gulf of Aden and Suez Canal from becoming a piracy haven.

But shipping remained vulnerable and despite the naval deployment, shipping companies intermittently diverted large flows past the Cape.

During March 2021 the container vessel Ever Given blocked the Suez Canal for several days due to a combination of climatic conditions and human failure. This incident demonstrated that war and armed conflict are not the only risks to shipping in this region. Again, some shipping was diverted around South Africa.


Read more: Houthi militant attacks in the Red Sea raise fears of Somali piracy resurgence


By 2024, in solidarity with the Palestinian cause, the Houthi rebel movement in Yemen began attacking selected commercial vessels passing through the southern Red Sea. Extensive attacks with missiles, drones and unmanned seaborne vessels again rerouted ships southward around the Cape of Good Hope.

This rerouting persisted for most of 2024. Shipping companies had to choose between:

  • risking Houthi missiles and drones

  • being escorted by naval vessels from the US, the UK and the EU

  • taking the Cape sea route.

It is estimated that as much as 66% of shipping sailed south along the Cape sea route at its height.

The Cape sea route 2026: the risks

Duration, costs, services and sea conditions add up to a different risk repertoire along the Cape route.

One risk is the extra loss of containers; sea conditions can be very rough around the tip of Africa. This carries heavy financial and environmental costs.

A second risk relates to support along the route, which adds up to 15 days to a journey. For example, there are limited deep sea salvaging capabilities on the route. South Africa used to be a salvage hub, but has abandoned those capabilities.


Read more: Mozambique insurgency: focus needs to shift to preventing criminality at sea


A third set of risks are those that ships face if they enter an African harbour for unplanned reasons. There they stand exposed to dysfunctional service delivery and port inefficiencies.

All require implementing risk mitigation plans.

What needs to be done

The first plan should be extensive cooperation between African governments, their maritime agencies, and shipping companies. This remains the gold standard for building maritime security to contain non-traditional and non-naval threats along the route.

For example, there needs to be international cooperation for modernisation and port service delivery. These range from bunkering services to salvage assistance to collaboration on search and rescue services.

Responses do not solely depend on naval interventions. However, naval cooperation and roping in coast guards remain critical. This requires that African maritime agencies become better organised to secure the route to support safe global trade, including trade with Africa.

Derisking cannot be a solely South African responsibility. Maritime safety and security are about cooperation and partnerships. For the Cape sea route this implies African partnerships as well, intra-continental and with other international partners.

– The Iran war and global trade: will the Cape route become the new normal?
– https://theconversation.com/the-iran-war-and-global-trade-will-the-cape-route-become-the-new-normal-277582