The Conversation – Page 6 – MIL Africa Engine

July 29, 2026

Antibiotic resistance is spreading through South Africa’s water systems: study explains how

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Thulani P. Makhalanyane, Professor of Microbiology, Stellenbosch University

Antimicrobial resistance (AMR) is defined as the ability of disease-causing microorganisms to withstand treatments like antibiotics.

Often described as a silent pandemic, it is already responsible for an estimated 1.27 million deaths each year, with the highest burden in Africa.

Efforts to tackle antibiotic resistance have largely focused on hospitals and clinics, where antibiotic use is highest and resistant infections often emerge. But the problem is not confined to healthcare settings. Resistant bacteria can reproduce and pass on their resistance, or transfer resistance genes to other bacteria. These can spread beyond hospitals via wastewater or human carriers. Scientists increasingly recognise that the environment also plays a role. Rivers, lakes and wastewater systems are places where bacteria, antibiotic residues and other pollutants mix and interact.

Wastewater treatment plants bring all of this together. They take in what we flush away from homes, hospitals and industry and clean it before releasing it back into rivers or reusing it. These systems have significantly reduced the burden of infectious disease.

But there is a blind spot.

As part of the African Microbiome Project, we investigate the occurrence of antibiotic-resistant bacteria and resistance genes in wastewater discharges and receiving environments. We’ve found that resistant bacteria can still be found downstream, even after treatment has reduced overall bacterial loads. So, we set out to examine how this happens.

We pursued this line of inquiry because earlier research showed that when bacteria are killed during treatment, their cells break apart, releasing DNA into the water. This genetic material, known as extracellular DNA, or DNA that exists outside the cell, can carry antibiotic resistance genes and persist in treated water released into the environment. Some microorganisms in the environment are then able to incorporate this genetic material into their own.

In effect, resistance can spread without the original bacteria being present. Our research in South Africa suggests that there is indeed an overlooked pathway to the spread of antibiotic resistance.

Our findings also suggest that current measures of treatment success may be incomplete. Reducing living bacteria is important, but it may not capture the full risk if the genetic basis for resistance remains. Therefore, advanced treatment technologies, such as ultraviolet treatment, enzymatic degradation and advanced oxidation, should be considered for use. These technologies have been shown to degrade extracellular DNA in wastewater, reducing its ability to transfer resistance genes.

The evidence

We analysed wastewater from several treatment plants in the city of Tshwane. We found that even after standard treatment, extracellular DNA carrying antimicrobial resistance genes remained in the water released into the environment.

Some of these genes are linked to resistance against antibiotics of last resort. These are medications used to treat serious infections in humans and animals.

This does not mean treated wastewater is directly causing disease. But it points to a way for resistance to survive treatment and potentially re-enter communities, through drinking water, food production or recreational exposure.

Similar findings have been reported in other parts of the world. Some countries are beginning to use advanced treatment technologies designed to remove or degrade extracellular DNA.

What’s called for

Developing countries face bigger challenges than developed countries for a number of reasons.

Treated wastewater is routinely discharged into rivers, reused in agriculture, or fed back into domestic water supplies. Limited access to safe water and sanitation may create more opportunities for antibiotic resistance genes to circulate from these environmental reservoirs to communities.

On top of this, water scarcity is hitting developing countries harder.

In water-scarce regions such as South Africa, where infrastructure challenges persist, communities may be more directly exposed to these contaminated water sources and opportunities for resistance genes to spread.

These risks point to the need for a shift in how antibiotic resistance is understood. It is not only a medical issue, but also an environmental one. It will require changes across both domains.

First, monitoring systems need to evolve. Globally, water quality assessments rarely include genetic material – detecting it requires specialised molecular methods.

Although these techniques require specialised equipment and expertise, they are already available in many laboratories and could be integrated into monitoring programmes as costs decline and testing capacity expands.

Second, wastewater treatment technologies may need to adapt. Advanced processes, like ozonation (which uses ozone to break down contaminants), ultrafiltration membranes that physically remove particles and genetic material, and DNA-degrading enzymes, are being explored but they aren’t widely used.

The rollout of these technologies has mostly occurred in parts of Europe, North America and Asia. In South Africa, there are encouraging signs of adoption. For example, current upgrades to wastewater treatment plants in Cape Town include UV treatment.

Third, stronger collaboration across sectors is essential. Antibiotic resistance is not solely a health issue, and water management is not only an engineering challenge. Policymakers, engineers, microbiologists and public health practitioners must work together on this interconnected challenge.

Finally, public awareness matters. Most people don’t know that antibiotic resistance can spread through water. Communicating this risk clearly can help build support for the changes needed. While individuals cannot always control the quality of the water available to them, understanding the risks can encourage simple protective measures, such as boiling water and disposing of medicines responsibly.

Antibiotic resistance and water insecurity are linked through the systems that sustain everyday life. As pressure on global water systems grows, understanding and managing the links will become increasingly important.

– Antibiotic resistance is spreading through South Africa’s water systems: study explains how
– https://theconversation.com/antibiotic-resistance-is-spreading-through-south-africas-water-systems-study-explains-how-283907

July 29, 2026

How do teens living with disabilities in Ghana view their future? We asked them to show us

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Mary Asirifi, Assistant Professor, Department of Nursing Foundations, MacEwan University

About 8% of Ghana’s population is disabled. A high percentage are adolescents, which could be linked to the country’s dominant population of young people (15 to 35 years).

The perspectives of adolescents with disabilities in Ghana are often overlooked, as most of the time, society views the cause of the disability as related to parental sins against the gods, being a descendant of river gods, and bewitchment or curses by family members. Consequently, the adolescents experience pejorative labelling, ableism and social exclusion, resulting in depression, low self-esteem, a lack of confidence and suicidal thoughts.

I was part of an interdisciplinary research team with diverse expertise on stigma, nursing, public health and social work. We engaged adolescents in Ghana with disabilities in a recent study that focused on their lived experiences. This research involved working with 54 adolescents aged 10-19 years with hearing, visual and physical disabilities. We explored their lived experiences using photos that participants captured. Participants used a range of visual images to represent their challenges.

We also found that adolescents with disabilities often face hostile experiences that contribute to negative self-perceptions. These include feelings of hopelessness about their future. This calls for urgent attention to addressing the needs of this vulnerable population.

Finding the challenges

We provided participants with a range of visual images to represent their challenges. These included images symbolising darkness, a stick lying on the floor, a coconut tree, heaps of sand, and stacks of wood logs. These images from the participants were used in the study as they captured the perspectives and the meaning of their experiences with disability.

Of the 54 adolescents we interviewed, 22 were hearing impaired, 23 were visually impaired and 9 struggled with physical disability. Of these, 34 were females and 20 were males. The majority of the participants had been born with their disabilities. Only four participants with visual impairments had been disabled later in life. The visually impaired participants informed the researchers to take pictures of images that the participants preferred to depict their experience of disability. The researchers informed the participants of the content and the features of the images captured in the photos.

We then used photo voice data analysis. This is a process where participants’ stories related to the photos were interpreted into meaningful clusters of ideas known as themes. Three overarching themes emerged from the data:

adversity
resilience
social support.

Adversity

Some of the adolescents characterised the adversity experience of disabilities as difficult, burdensome, and full of rejection. Participants presented images symbolising darkness, a stick lying on bare floor, a coconut tree, heaps of sand, and stacks of wood logs as challenges they face.

The photographs of wood logs and darkness were used to explain participants’ lived experiences. According to the adolescents with disabilities, the images of wood logs and darkness meant that life was a burden. Those who used darkness compared their lived experiences to an unforeseen, blurred future because they were physically challenged, lacking strength, and appeared unfit for any productive job.

A 19-year-old adolescent with physical impairment compared her life journey to a stick lying on the ground, indicating “everyone can walk on her life”.

According to her, a stick on the ground could be easily picked up, used, and then dumped at any time. She said several men had showed interest in her but abandoned her after a sexual encounter. She had a child with a partner who did not provide paternal support, and she found it difficult to get any employment, which made her vulnerable to similar exploitative advances.

A visually impaired participant related her experience with a coconut tree.

I could see with my eyes before this sickness happened to me. When I was having sight, people saw me as someone who would be a great person in the future, but now that I am blind, they believe that it is the end of my life. Some still consider me beautiful in my current state because I have not given birth yet. However, I know if I allow myself to become pregnant, I will become a wretched thing after giving birth, which can be related to the coconut tree: once the fruit has been harvested and the leaves have been removed, it will lose its attraction.

A 17-year-old who was visually challenged used a heap of sand at the side of the road to explain his predicament.

According to him, life was a burden because it required him to bear more weight, and occasionally he thought about ending his life.

A female physically challenged adolescent compared her life to a footpath that anyone could walk on. She indicated that the disability had devalued her personality and she’d lost her identity. She felt bullied by her peers, and excluded, which had affected her academic and sporting life and mental health.

Resilience and social support

Some adolescents were hopeful and resilient about their life experiences. They used a photograph of a chapel representing a place where their experiences, struggles and identity were most visible and meaningful.

One of the participants indicated that the church was a place where he felt accepted beyond his disability.

The photo of a group of people meeting and holding hands together signified a space to share their experiences and their sense of safety as well as expressing feelings such as anger, frustration and hope. According to the participants, such meetings fostered a sense of community and offered practical coping strategies for navigating school activities and life in general.

What needs to happen

The findings show that there’s a need for culturally appropriate interventions to support and empower adolescents with disabilities in Ghana.

An example is the Obuntu Bulamu peer-to-peer support intervention in Uganda. The concept underlying the this intervention is fostering behaviour that reflects a shared set of values promoting well-being, togetherness and unity. The intervention, which was co-created by a team of children, parents, teachers, disability rehabilitation workers and academics in Uganda, consists of training sessions, peer support meetings, and activities for children, parents and teachers around the themes of peer support, disability and belonging.

Finally, the findings also provide a basis for programmes and policies to incorporate their voices into decision-making that affects their well-being.

– How do teens living with disabilities in Ghana view their future? We asked them to show us
– https://theconversation.com/how-do-teens-living-with-disabilities-in-ghana-view-their-future-we-asked-them-to-show-us-287727

July 29, 2026

Pregnant and parenting teens in Nairobi’s informal settlements: the hidden mental toll of stigma

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Anthony Idowu Ajayi, Research Scientist, African Population and Health Research Center

Pregnancy is demanding at any age. But for adolescents, it comes on top of everything else they are dealing with: school, relationships, and the passage into adulthood. Add the hormonal shifts and shock of an unplanned pregnancy, and the weight of societal disapproval, and it is little wonder that pregnant adolescents are at heightened risk of mental disorders.

Existing studies have largely focused on quantifying the burden of mental health problems and their risk factors among pregnant and parenting adolescents. Less attention has been paid to understanding how pregnant and parenting adolescents themselves experience, interpret and navigate these mental health challenges in their everyday lives.

We have spent a combined 40 years researching adolescent sexual and reproductive health across Africa, and what policymakers can do to alleviate their pressures. In our most recent paper we looked at the social consequences of adolescent pregnancy. In particular we examined experiences of stigma, rejection, social isolation and lost opportunities that affected adolescents’ mental health and how the girls coped with the pressures.

Our study drew from interviews with 22 pregnant and parenting girls and 10 parents or caregivers in an urban informal settlement in Nairobi, Kenya, where adolescent childbearing is common. The burden of adolescent childbearing in Kenya’s informal settlements is disproportionately high, with birth rates reaching roughly 116 per 1,000 girls aged 15-19 (compared to a national average of 73 per 1,000).

We found that much of the mental distress they experienced was socially produced, through paternity denial, financial precarity, humiliation and exclusion by family, school, church and community.

Girls carry the blame; male partners remain socially invisible. We argue that stakeholders should move beyond moralising adolescent pregnancy and instead provide comprehensive, evidence-informed support that enables adolescent girls and their children to thrive.

Three layers of distress

Our study explored the social pressures that contributed to psychological distress among pregnant and parenting adolescent girls, and what factors helped them cope.

We identified three layers of distress:

costs
stigma
shame.

The first was the kind of hardship any struggling household faces: the cost of food, rent, school fees and sanitary products. Many of the girls we spoke to already lived with single mothers scraping by on unstable, low-paid work. Pregnancy stretched that thin income further. Several girls described turning to high-interest mobile loans which only deepened their financial stress.

Most of the girls reported that the fathers denied paternity or refused support after initially promising to help. They were left to shoulder childcare and household costs alone. Also, participants reported that employers were unwilling to hire them or accommodate their children, pushing some of them into longer working hours for little pay.

An 18-year-old parenting girl recalled:

They tell you that they will employ you but without the child or that you take your child to daycare, yet you do not even have money. It takes me two hours to wash clothes, I get paid 250 shillings [US$2] because of the child. She only sits on her own for five minutes then you must pick her up and that is why it takes longer to wash the clothes.

The second layer was distinctive to their new, stigmatised status as pregnant or parenting adolescents. This form of distress is based on family, friends and community reactions to adolescent pregnancy. It stems from the perception of adolescent pregnancy as an individual’s moral failing.

The girls we interviewed weren’t just struggling quietly. They were publicly shamed, mocked, whispered about and shunned by neighbours, teachers, classmates and even close friends. Fathers reportedly blamed the girls’ mothers for “failing” to protect and control their daughters, and this triggered conflicts. One adolescent girl told us her father called her “a burden and embarrassment”. Several girls dropped out of school even when they wanted to continue their education. Yet the boys and men who got them pregnant were invisible.

The third layer was internal. Having absorbed months of judgement and rejection, many adolescent girls described overwhelming shame, guilt and a sense of worthlessness. Some withdrew from friends and family entirely. In the most severe cases, this internalised distress escalated into suicidal thoughts or attempts. And, in a context where abortion is heavily restricted, some girls turned to unsafe methods to try to end unwanted pregnancies out of desperation rather than choice.

A 16-year-old parenting adolescent girl shared:

I wanted to hang myself. I thought maybe my parents would chase me away or beat me, I used to come back (from school) and cry, cry, and cry. I tried taking tea with a lot of tea leaves (to abort) but it never worked out. I wanted to buy poison and take it … Something used to tell me to get out of the house get hit by a vehicle and die because I have wronged my parents.

What helped?

Not all experiences followed the same trajectory.

Supportive family relationships were consistently described as critical turning points. Adolescents whose parents responded with acceptance rather than punishment frequently reported feeling better able to cope with their circumstances. In several cases, adolescent girls highlighted that reassurance from a parent was particularly important in helping them regain a sense of stability and mental safety. A 19-year-old parenting young woman shared:

My mother found out about the pregnancy when it was three months. She encouraged me by telling me that it was not the end of everything, and she was still going to be my mother no matter the situation I found myself in.

Grandmothers commonly provided practical assistance, especially childcare and emotional support. Community-based groups also played an important role by offering counselling, material support and opportunities for social connection.

Interactions with other pregnant or parenting adolescents were highly valued. They provided a sense of solidarity, reduced isolation, and reassured girls that others faced similar challenges and had found ways through them.

What needs to change?

Our findings suggest that reducing the mental health toll of adolescent pregnancy requires more than just economic support, though that matters too.

Interventions also need to directly address stigma in schools, religious institutions, health facilities and neighbourhoods and expand access to psychosocial support.

Policymakers and other key stakeholders addressing this issue need to move beyond pregnancy prevention to comprehensive support systems that enable young mothers to thrive.

– Pregnant and parenting teens in Nairobi’s informal settlements: the hidden mental toll of stigma
– https://theconversation.com/pregnant-and-parenting-teens-in-nairobis-informal-settlements-the-hidden-mental-toll-of-stigma-287892

July 28, 2026

Nairobi’s largest informal settlement is getting an upgrade. But who will actually benefit from new apartments?

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Fabrizio Floris, Phd professor sociology of development, Université catholique de Milan

Bulldozers and construction crews are reshaping parts of Nairobi’s best-known informal settlement, Kibera. In a video shared by President William Ruto, new apartment blocks rise alongside existing corrugated-iron structures, while new roads cut through the settlement. The message is clear: Kenya’s affordable housing programme is bringing modern housing to one of the country’s most visible symbols of urban poverty.

The redevelopment forms part of Ruto’s broader affordable housing programme, which aims to deliver 200,000 housing units annually, combining social housing, affordable homes and market-rate units. By March 2026, government figures indicated that 8,367 units had been completed since Ruto took office in September 2022, with many more at various stages of construction across the country. Completed units therefore remain well below the programme’s stated annual target.

Supporters see it as a long-overdue investment in urban infrastructure and housing. Critics, however, have challenged the compulsory levy used to finance the programme: employees pay 1.5% of their gross monthly salary, matched by a 1.5% employer contribution, while people outside formal employment pay 1.5% of their gross income. They have also raised concerns about whether the homes will be affordable to lower-income households and allocated transparently.

I have conducted research in Nairobi’s informal settlements since 1996, focusing on urbanisation, informal economies and the social consequences of housing and redevelopment policies. Over three decades, I have seen redevelopment schemes generate both genuine improvements and new forms of exclusion. Previous upgrading projects have brought tangible improvements, including more durable housing, sanitation, roads and access to basic services. But they have also shown how higher rents and maintenance costs can push intended beneficiaries to sublet or leave, allowing better-off households to replace them. This is not unique to Kibera: displacement and social replacement can occur when upgrading raises housing and living costs beyond what original residents can sustain.

On the ground in Kibera, residents whose homes are targeted for demolition are uneasy. They want to know whether they will be recognised as beneficiaries, allocated one of the new units and able to afford its ongoing costs. The State Department for Housing and Urban Development has enumerated residents and issued Makao Bora cards as proof of registration. But uncertainty remains over how registration will translate into final allocation and long-term affordability.

Therefore, the question is not simply how many apartment buildings are completed, but for whom they are built and who will still be living in them a few years from now.

Kenya urgently needs better urban housing, and redevelopment is necessary. But the success of Kibera’s transformation will be measured not only by the number of apartment blocks completed, but by whether the people who built their lives there can afford to remain.

Who counts as a legitimate beneficiary?

Kibera is more than a collection of inadequate dwellings. It is not simply a “slum”. It is a complex urban territory in a strategically central part of Nairobi. For decades it has served several functions at once: a reservoir of low-wage labour close to the city centre; an informal response to chronic shortages of affordable housing; a dense ecosystem of micro-enterprises; and a politically significant voting bloc.

Kibera is probably Africa’s most talked-about informal settlement. Long-repeated claims that it contains one million people or is Africa’s largest slum have been challenged by census data and independent research. Population estimates vary according to the boundaries used, but generally place its population at around 170,000 to 200,000. Its symbolic importance nevertheless extends far beyond Nairobi.

This makes it a showcase for both development interventions and political narratives. Governments, non-government organisations and foreign media have long used Kibera as a symbol of global urban poverty. Redeveloping it therefore carries political value well beyond Nairobi.

Yet every housing upgrading programme faces one core issue: who counts as a legitimate beneficiary? This is difficult because residence, ownership and vulnerability do not coincide. Tenants may have lived in Kibera for decades without owning a structure. At the same time, some structure owners live elsewhere and derive rental income from the settlement.

Under the Kenya Slum Upgrading Programme, initiated in 2004, the allocation of 822 units in Soweto East Zone A in 2016 relied on censuses, historical resident lists, documentation checks and field verification to identify genuine beneficiaries. Even so, the allocation process was challenged in court. To ensure fairness, the court granted oversight of the process to the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights, an independent national rights watchdog.

That history tells us two things. First, formal criteria can be created. The current process also uses resident enumeration and documentation, but it is not yet clear whether all the earlier criteria and safeguards will be applied in the same way. Second, contestation is inevitable. The most important conflict is not necessarily between government and residents, but within the community itself. Kibera has long contained different social groups with unequal interests: tenants renting single rooms; structure owners who own shacks but not the land beneath them; absentee landlords collecting rent from elsewhere; local power brokers; and politically connected intermediaries.

These groups are not equally vulnerable. Some structure owners are themselves poor residents. Others are small investors or better-connected actors who profit from informal rent systems. If new apartments are allocated without distinguishing between those who genuinely lived there and those who extracted income from the settlement, public resources risk rewarding rent capture rather than need.

The less photogenic side of redevelopment

Then there is the less photogenic side of redevelopment: eviction. In April 2026, more than 10,000 residents of Kibera’s Soweto Zones C and D were reportedly given 13 days to vacate areas required for demolition and construction. Residents were offered KSh60,000 (about US$460) in relocation assistance, but some said this was insufficient to cover rent deposits, school transfers and the cost of restarting small businesses.

For families living on unstable incomes, relocation means much more than moving house. It can mean losing access to school, work, childcare networks, customers, transport routes and trusted neighbours.

In informal settlements, housing is rarely just housing. A single-room dwelling may also function as a shop, a food stall, a tailoring space, a storage room or a social support node. Moving a household into a cleaner apartment can still reduce livelihoods if it destroys the economic ecosystem that sustained them.

This is one reason why many social housing schemes around the world struggle. They are often designed for households with stable monthly salaries, but targeted at families surviving on daily, irregular and informal incomes.

Rent, utilities and maintenance fees are fixed. Income is not. The result can be arrears, subletting, informal resale, or a gradual return to cheaper informal settlements on the city’s periphery. Even when initial allocation is fair, social replacement can follow. Poorer original residents may give way to more solvent households. What begins as anti-poverty policy can become a slow form of gentrification.

So what would success look like? A credible model would include several safeguards: transparent and updated resident registries; explicit protection for long-term tenants; no preferential treatment for absentee landlords; affordable and flexible rent systems; commercial space reserved for local operators; relocation that preserves neighbourhood networks rather than dispersing individual households; and public monitoring after six, 12 and 24 months.

Above all, there should be no eviction without a realistic alternative.

– Nairobi’s largest informal settlement is getting an upgrade. But who will actually benefit from new apartments?
– https://theconversation.com/nairobis-largest-informal-settlement-is-getting-an-upgrade-but-who-will-actually-benefit-from-new-apartments-285843

July 27, 2026

Can a newly discovered soil fungus stop the devastating African armyworm when chemicals have failed?

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Letodi Luki Mathulwe, Research entomologist, Department of Conservation Ecology and Entomology, Stellenbosch University

The African armyworm is a highly destructive migratory pest that damages maize, sorghum, millet and sugarcane. These caterpillars also cause indirect damage to livestock as they destroy grazing lands and pastures.

The last major outbreak of armyworm in southern Africa was from February to April 2025. It affected South Africa’s KwaZulu Natal, Limpopo, Gauteng and Mpumalanga provinces and neighbouring Zimbabwe.

Controlling armyworm has proved a major challenge. The most common method has been application of a pyrethroid based synthetic chemical insecticide. But the method has proved to be less effective in achieving complete control, as the insecticide is only effective against the larval instars (caterpillars) when they are about 1-5mm in length, as they are more susceptible to the poison than the grown larvae. The insect has a complete metamorphosis consisting of the egg, larvae (caterpillar), pupae and adult stage, which is a moth. The caterpillar stage is the most damaging stage.

I am an entomologist and my work focuses mainly on integrated pest management of economically important agricultural insect pests. Specifically, it looks at the use of disease-causing (entomopathogenic) fungi and nematodes as biological control agents of insects in agro-ecosystems. In a recent paper I set out my findings on a fungus that naturally infects and kills the larval instars of the African armyworm. This is the first report of the presence and successful isolation of the fungus in South Africa.

African armyworm killer fungus discovered in South Africa

Outbreaks of the African armyworm are mainly characterised by high densities of the larval instars of the insect: they form dense armies that move across the ground together.

African armyworms are highly destructive pests. Author supplied

It feeds on plants and can completely strip the leaves of crops to ground level. Damage to kikuyu grass pastures also means there’s less for livestock to eat and they can get sick from poisoning. This is because when the larvae feed on the grass, the grass releases a cyanic chemical compound as a defence mechanism against the insect. The cyanide compound is toxic to livestock, mostly cattle.

Clinical signs of kikuyu grass poisoning in affected cattle during outbreaks of the insect include abdominal pain, dehydration, excessive drooling of saliva, sham drinking – where the affected animals fail to drink even if they put their mouth into the water – incoordination (loss of muscle control, resulting in unsteady and involuntary movements), and cardiac and respiratory distress.

When I inspected kikuyu grass pastures infested with the insect in KwaZulu Natal, I observed that something was killing the larval instars of the African armyworm. It turned out to be an isolate of the fungus Metarhizium rileyi.

This fungus lives in soil and is one of many entompathogens that infect and kill various insect pests. They are often used in agriculture to manage pests that cause severe damage to crops. Several fungus-based insecticides are commercially available and have proven to be effective.

I found that dead African armyworm larvae were covering large areas of the fields, mostly attached to blades of grass and some on the soil surface. They were infected with Metarhizium rileyi. The infection was visible as white and green conidia, which are asexual spores on the cuticle surface of the insects.

This was the first observation and report of the efficacy of this fungus against the African armyworm. Previously,the fungus was reported to be an effective biological control agent of the fall armyworm in countries such as the Philippines.

The discovery opens an opportunity to explore and develop this organism as a potential biological control agent product to be used during outbreak seasons in South Africa and in other regions globally.

Mass production of this particular fungal species on a commercial scale and registration of the fungus as a biopesticide of the insect would be the next step. It could add to the management strategies that can be effectively used during outbreak seasons of the insect.

– Can a newly discovered soil fungus stop the devastating African armyworm when chemicals have failed?
– https://theconversation.com/can-a-newly-discovered-soil-fungus-stop-the-devastating-african-armyworm-when-chemicals-have-failed-286153

July 27, 2026

Nigeria’s conflict zones: why people stay even when they can leave

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Ezenwa E. Olumba, Leverhulme Early Career Research Fellow, Aston University

When armed groups attack a community, people often assume that everyone who can escape will leave. This belief influences news stories, public discussions and humanitarian efforts, which usually focus on those who have been forced to move.

However, while I was doing research in north-central Nigeria, also called the Middle Belt, I came across some communities that had the means to flee to safety but decided to remain, even though they faced repeated violent attacks from armed nomadic herders and got little or no help from the government.

I have been studying why people move or stay, and the violent conflicts between farming communities and nomadic herders in the Middle Belt, since 2018. I have published several studies on these issues. My research examines the history of the conflicts, what causes them to escalate, and why some people choose to remain in conflict zones. I have also studied how memories of people, places and past experiences influence decisions to remain.

In one study, my co-authors and I use the term eco-violence to describe conflicts over land and water between farming communities and nomadic herders across the dry Sahel region. These conflicts are driven partly by pressures on land and water, discrimination, and failures of government, as herders move with their livestock in search of grazing and water.

Studies show that in many crisis situations, more people stay than leave. To better understand migration and conflict, we need to ask not just why people run away, but also why some remain.

One reason is that they fear losing their ancestral land and traditional way of life.

The study

In Nigeria’s Middle Belt, communities have faced violence and the loss of homes, farms and food stores for many years.

Thousands of people are killed every year, with many communities destroyed and others deserted. According to Amnesty International, over 6,896 people were killed between May 2023 and May 2025 in Benue state alone.

These rural communities receive little or no protection from the police or military. Sometimes, attackers even warn the communities ahead of time, but the police or military still do not step in to protect them.

Hardly a week that goes without a killing in Benue, Plateau or Nasarawa states in Nigeria.

In 2022, I spoke with 54 people living in Benue and Nasarawa states. In Benue, I spoke with people who were indigenous to the location, as well as people who had fled to nearby communities. In Nasarawa State, I spoke with members of a community who had been displaced but later returned after regaining control of their village.

Why ancestral land matters

Their two main reasons for staying emerged from the research, which has since been published in Mobilities.

The first was their attachment to their ancestral land and the resources it provides. Many people in the Middle Belt are farmers who cultivate land inherited through generations. The same land contains their family homes, burial grounds and sacred sites, and provides the setting for rituals and traditional festivals.

The Middle Belt is known for its fertile land. Benue State, for instance, is often described as the country’s “food basket” because much of the food grown there is supplied to other parts of Nigeria.

A farmer and his son on a rice farm in Benue State. Author provided (no reuse)

The second was their desire to preserve a familiar way of life that makes living meaningful to them. For these communities, home is made up of relationships, memories, traditions and identities passed from one generation to the next. Some of them put it simply: they would rather die than leave.

One of the community members said this:

This land is where I was born, and this is my father’s land. Wherever I run to, I will become a stranger and may become destitute … If I die in my house for what belongs to me, let me die. This is why I did not flee.

Their decision is not simply about whether they could survive elsewhere. It is mostly about preserving their traditional way of life, since life away from their ancestral land may no longer feel meaningful.

These communities believe they can only keep their way of life by staying on what they call their “father’s land”. Leaving would mean surrendering their land, livelihoods and communal life to live elsewhere with little or nothing.

One of the community members said:

Another factor is that the area where we are settled now belongs to our forefathers, and if we flee and abandon this place, where are we heading to? … [S]ince this is our land, we must live on it.

Remaining does not mean that they prefer violence. They know the dangers and fear further attacks. Many have lost relatives and friends. But leaving would mean losing a way of life they believe they cannot rebuild anywhere else.

Conflict is not the only thing people fear

Understanding this can help scholars, policymakers, journalists and humanitarian groups to work more thoughtfully with people who choose to remain in conflict, for whom leaving may carry losses they consider impossible to replace.

– Nigeria’s conflict zones: why people stay even when they can leave
– https://theconversation.com/nigerias-conflict-zones-why-people-stay-even-when-they-can-leave-287826

July 27, 2026

Refugee camps explained: why South Africa has avoided them

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Franzisca Zanker, Senior researcher, Arnold Bergstraesser Institute

South Africa started processing undocumented migrants at a temporary repatriation centre in Musina, a border town with Zimbabwe, in July 2026. This followed weeks of intensified anti-migrant rhetoric and xenophobic violence.

The facility has raised questions about whether the country could be moving towards a more camp-based approach to managing migrants and refugees. This would mark a significant departure from South Africa’s post-apartheid refugee policy. South Africa has generally allowed refugees and asylum seekers to live, work and study in urban centres rather than confining them to designated refugee camps. As of 2025, the country hosted more than 160,000 refugees and asylum seekers from places like Zimbabwe, Malawi, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Burundi.

Franzisca Zanker and Ulrike Krause have studied refugee governance and encampment across Africa, including in South Africa. As migration becomes an increasingly charged political issue in South Africa, they examine what refugee encampment is.

Who counts as a refugee and what are the legal protections in place?

Legally speaking, all refugees are migrants. But not all migrants are refugees. A refugee is someone who has crossed an international border in search of protection because they fear persecution on the grounds of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership of a particular social group.

International law sets out protections for people in these circumstances, most notably through the 1951 Refugee Convention with its 1967 protocol. In Africa, the 1969 Convention of the then Organisation of African Unity broadened the definition of a refugee to include people fleeing external aggression, occupation or events seriously disturbing public order.

These conventions are, however, historical documents. They were drafted largely in colonial or early post-colonial contexts, leading to several blind spots. A criticism is that they don’t adequately account for contemporary forms of displacement, such as those driven by climate change.

In reality, the definition of who is a migrant or a refugee is often blurred. Like all international legal documents, the refugee conventions should be read as “living instruments”. This means they can be reinterpreted as circumstances change.

How does South Africa’s refugee system work?

South Africa had over 167,000 refugees and asylum seekers in 2025, mostly living in urban communities. An asylum seeker is an individual whose claim to refugee status hasn’t yet been legally processed or decided.

Asylum seekers must renew temporary section 22 permits, typically every six months, at refugee reception offices. This places a heavy burden on them.

Many asylum claims are rejected at the first stage, and the appeals process is lengthy. An audit in 2019 revealed that, at the time, it would take 68 years to clear the appeals backlog. In 2026, funding for the Refugee Appeals Authority of South Africa was cut, reducing its adjudication panel from 36 members to just nine.

Asylum seekers now wait for five to 10 years or longer for a decision. During this time, they face restrictions on work, study, movement and access to humanitarian assistance.

The legal framework around refugees and asylum seekers is also evolving.

In May 2026, the constitutional court ruled that asylum seekers whose applications, including appeals, have been rejected do not necessarily have the right to reapply as refugees. The Department of Home Affairs celebrated this as a win.

Two months later, the same court ruled that procedural failures, such as not obtaining a section 22 permit within five days of entering the country, are not sufficient grounds to disqualify someone from seeking refugee status. This time, the human rights organisation Scalabrini celebrated.

It is this arduous process for asylum seekers, the changing and complex legal system, and the need for humanitarian assistance for some asylum seekers that raises the question: would camps be a better way forward while they wait?

In other words, would camps offer a solution for protection? Or would they reduce the rights of refugees and asylum seekers in a country once lauded as exemplary?

What does the evidence show about refugee camps and protection?

Refugee camps are humanitarian and political spaces established to provide refugees with settlement, protection and assistance, particularly following large-scale movements to host states.

Host governments decide whether to establish camps and how they operate, but they often work closely with humanitarian agencies. The UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) is central here, given its global mandate to safeguard refugees and their rights.

In practice, governments frequently collaborate with UNHCR to manage camps and coordinate NGOs that provide services like shelter, food, water and healthcare.

Although camps are intended as temporary spaces of protection, many last years or even decades.

They remain designed as provisional structures even as they evolve into long-term infrastructures.

And despite the protection focus, camps are not safe havens. Scholars have described them as spaces of order and control, a form of “human warehousing” and “sites of non-existence”.

They are run by political actors that control refugees’ daily lives. UNHCR relies on host states for access and donor states for funding to offer protection.

The legal basis for encampment is also contested. The 1951 Refugee Convention does not require refugees to be housed in camps.

Encampment is a policy choice, not a legal obligation. Yet camps have become the default humanitarian response and often harshly limit refugees’ right to freedom of movement.

What are the challenges of refugee camps?

Once established, camps bring a range of difficulties for the people who live in them.

Harsh living conditions and human rights abuses are well documented. These include gender-based and sexual violence, the everyday denial of rights and limited legal support, economic marginalisation, restricted political participation and overall structural “containment”.

Living conditions are, therefore, typically difficult.

Camps are mostly deliberately located in remote areas, cutting residents off physically, socially and economically from surrounding host communities.

Livelihoods suffer as a result. Decisions about shelter and daily life are made by aid and government actors.

Does the temporary repatriation centre in Musina signal a change of South African policy towards refugee camps?

The Musina centre is not a UNHCR-run refugee centre. There is also no indication it’s supposed to become one.

The Revised White Paper on Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Protection, approved by cabinet in 2026, contains no plans to establish refugee camps.

Even so, several issues deserve attention.

First, UNHCR is facing huge funding cuts, in line with humanitarian assistance more generally. It is looking to downsize rather than build up new camps. As of 30 June 2026, only 18% of its annual budget is funded for its multi-country operation covering South Africa, Botswana, and Namibia.

Second, setting up camps in impoverished contexts can always raise tensions with host communities who also need humanitarian assistance. In an environment where xenophobic violence is partly fuelled by tensions between refugees and host communities, this is far from ideal.

Third, the current trend is to move away from encampment, as seen in Kenya, for instance.

Letting the free market and self-settlement take care of refugees can be highly problematic. But it is within this space that South Africa is more likely to find a sustainable path forward – one that remains true to its protection obligations while enabling refugees to contribute to, and benefit from, the communities in which they live.

– Refugee camps explained: why South Africa has avoided them
– https://theconversation.com/refugee-camps-explained-why-south-africa-has-avoided-them-288116

July 26, 2026

South Sudan’s first elections won’t be perfect – but another delay could be even riskier

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Jan Pospisil, Researcher at the Austrian Institute for International Affairs

South Sudan is expected to hold an election on 22 December 2026, the first in the country’s history. It’s already been postponed twice, in 2022 and 2024.

A great deal is being said and written about whether or not there should be an election. But, having researched South Sudan’s post-war transition since the revitalised peace agreement was signed in 2018, I would argue that the real question is whether another extension would create the political conditions that previous delays failed to deliver.

South Sudan’s first national elections will almost certainly be imperfect. Few countries emerging from violent conflict hold flawless elections.

But another transition extension is even less likely to resolve the country’s underlying political problems. These include elite power struggles, weak institutions and unresolved security arrangements.

In my view, the transition has reached its limits. What’s needed to move ahead is a succession plan. Naming a running mate for President Salva Kiir could facilitate a political succession that would be less disruptive than an unplanned and sudden succession in the event that the transition gets prolonged again.

Unpreparedness is real

The National Election Commission announced the poll date six months in advance, as required by law. But neither the state of preparations nor the available funding made this look realistic.

Critics have warned that the country isn’t ready. Institutions remain weak. Insecurity persists across parts of the country and civic education is lacking. Cornerstones of the 2018 peace agreement – such as a permanent constitution and a joint army that integrates the armed opposition forces – aren’t in place.

The first vice-president – and potential presidential contender – Riek Machar remains detained and on trial for his role in armed fighting in Nasir, Upper Nile State, in March 2025.

Preparations are also falling behind. The current election law is flawed – for instance, it mistakenly provides for 105% of the seats in the national assembly – and voter registration hasn’t started.

The election commission has also decided to reuse the constituencies from Sudan’s 2010 elections. This has prompted legal objections that these boundaries don’t reflect reality in an independent South Sudan.

Unfinished business

The signing of the peace agreement in 2018 established a fragile power-sharing arrangement. It brought the country’s warring parties into a transitional government of national unity. General elections were intended to conclude the transition period.

Each extension was justified by the promise that additional time would allow completion of the key transitional tasks. That never happened. There is little reason to believe that another two or three years would produce a different outcome.

The biggest gaps in South Sudan at the moment are these:

Constitution-making remains politically contested. South Sudan still operates under a transitional constitution from 2011. It largely reflects arrangements inherited from the pre-independence period. A permanent constitution is expected to define matters like the distribution of political power, the relationship between national and state authorities, the role of customary law, and how the country’s diversity is represented in the political system.
Security sector reform has made only limited progress. A central provision of the peace agreement is the integration of government forces, the opposition and other armed groups into a unified military force. The aim is to reduce the risk of renewed conflict.
Transitional justice processes haven’t started. These mechanisms are intended to investigate crimes committed during South Sudan’s civil war, and provide accountability and reconciliation. Senior political and military figures responsible for implementing these provisions could themselves become subjects of investigation. If indicted by the courts, they would be barred from holding public office. There has, therefore, been little political appetite to establish the processes.

The transition has turned into the main obstacle for these tasks to be completed. An election would make it possible to get on with the tasks by giving someone the authority.

The existing gaps have left the door open to unhelpful developments. The worst is the reproduction of kleptocratic and authoritarian structures.

The case for an election

One of South Sudan’s biggest challenges could be resolved by an election: the question of political succession in the executive.

The question looms large over South Sudan. Whether elections are held or postponed, it’s likely to be a source of political disruption.

Kiir has dominated South(ern) Sudanese politics for more than 20 years. Who could succeed him if he were no longer able to continue?

The transitional framework offers remarkably little certainty on this. Formally, the ruling party would need to name a successor. Nobody has been earmarked. Were succession to become an immediate political issue, the most likely consequence would be violent infighting within the ruling party.

Elections offer something that another extension cannot. They can force the ruling party – which, according to available political perception data, has a good chance to win both presidential and parliamentary elections even without rigging – to clarify the succession issue.

A presidential election would require the governing party to nominate a presidential candidate and a vice-presidential candidate endorsed by Kiir and party organs. Whoever occupies the vice-president position would be the leading and legitimised candidate to succeed should the presidency unexpectedly become vacant.

This does not eliminate political competition. It provides a far clearer and more legitimate succession pathway than the current transitional arrangements.

Those arguing against a poll being held point to the dangers of electoral violence. Election-related violence is a genuine risk. But postponing elections doesn’t necessarily reduce such risk.

Extending the transition again would instead deepen political uncertainty.

Perhaps the strongest argument for elections, however, comes from South Sudanese citizens themselves.

Nationwide survey research shows that around four in five South Sudanese support holding elections, even though most also recognise that violence remains a serious possibility.

This finding deserves greater attention than it usually receives. If most South Sudanese want elections, on what basis should political elites or international partners argue that they should wait?

What needs to be done

None of this means that elections can simply proceed. The financial, legal and practical preparation challenges are severe and will not be resolved overnight. An inter-party dialogue preparing the political ground for elections is a useful initiative. But this is unlikely to resolve the tensions with the main opposition forces behind Machar.

Recent suggestions by international partners like the European Union to discuss a short technical extension – for instance to March or April 2027 – or to hold executive and legislative elections separately are reasonable. But an indefinite postponement won’t lead the country anywhere.

– South Sudan’s first elections won’t be perfect – but another delay could be even riskier
– https://theconversation.com/south-sudans-first-elections-wont-be-perfect-but-another-delay-could-be-even-riskier-287806

July 24, 2026

The Gambia’s hidden history: how a tiny river basin influenced colonial trade and slavery

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Pape Chérif Bertrand Bassène, Senior Lecturer, Université Cheikh Anta Diop de Dakar

The Gambia is often portrayed as little more than a geographical oddity, a strip of land engulfed by its much larger neighbour Senegal. It was once the centre of Senegambia, administered by Britain between 1765 and 1779. But there is another way of looking at it which reveals its importance and adds to current reflections on reparations for slavery.

Pape Chérif Bertrand Bassène has studied the history of The Gambia and southern Senegal. He argues that British and Portuguese sources point to the existence of “Sierragambia” – a dynamic Mande-Atlantic connection and maritime corridor extending from the Gambia River basin, through the Casamance and Cacheu networks, down to the Sierra Leone River estuary, which later became the Abolitionist Laboratory Loop.

This independent coastal region played a decisive role in the Atlantic’s political, commercial and anti-slavery dynamics. Here, French-British rivalries intersected with African political agency long before the abolition of the slave trade. Whether through strategic alliances or fierce resistance, Bassène argues, African societies played an active, structuring role in transforming the Atlantic system into a network of exchange. We asked him to fill in the details.

How did you go about your research?

My research draws on two sets of European archives: British archives on The Gambia, and Portuguese sources on The Gambia and Guinea-Bissau. I analysed them alongside the historiography of Senegambia rather than in isolation.

Rather than treating these records as objective accounts, I approached them as geopolitical narratives. These require critical interpretation, informed by insights from historical linguistics; by analysing Atlantic, Mande, and Bak languages, I trace the etymologies, shifting meanings, and social realities hidden behind European denominations and colonial administrative categories.

These sources help reveal how coastal trading networks developed. They also show how waterways were controlled by “Banhüns” (Baynunks) or “grumetes/gourmets”. Europeans used these terms for the local intermediaries who connected them to the Atlantic slave trade.

The sources show African political structures remained strong and were able to negotiate, resist, or exploit imperial rivalries.

What was the crisis between the French and British colonial forces all about?

Between 1779 and 1785, “Sierragambia” was a space where Franco-British rivalries intersected with African political agency, before the abolition of the slave trade.

In 1779, French forces destroyed Fort James on the Gambia River, ending Britain’s Province of Senegambia. But the French administration could not establish lasting control. British ships quickly returned and resumed their operations.

James Island, today called Kunta Kinteh Island, a world heritage site. Ikiwaner/Wikimedia Commons

This rivalry reached its peak in October 1780. The French naval warship Le Sénégal boarded four English vessels at the mouth of the river. Britain responded quickly.

On 2 November 1780, the ship HMS Zephyr, supported by the privateer Polly (a civilian vessel), attacked the French ship. Twelve French sailors were killed and 28 wounded. The British lost only two men. Le Sénégal was captured and taken to Gorée, the slave trading island. It exploded shortly afterwards.

What role did Gambian communities play?

Portuguese sources describe precolonial Casamance in today’s Senegal as a territory fiercely guarded by coastal societies. There was no easy access. Europeans had to pass through the Banhuns-Grumetes, intermediaries from local communities, and Portuguese “lançados” (exiles). These various actors controlled the backwaters, filtered trade flows, and dictated the terms of barter.

The 1780 episode was shaped by an African initiative, a strategic alliance between British sailors and the Joola people of Fogni (the southern part of the Gambia River). Trapped along the river, the British sailors secured logistical and military support from the Joola. Rather than a victory decided purely by British maritime superiority, the capture of the ship Le Sénégal was engineered by a local African alliance that stripped the French of mobility and logistics. Africans created the tactical conditions that made British interception possible.

Coastal communities refused to supply the French. They harassed French rowboats, and disrupted the slave trade. On the north bank, the Niuminkés generally supported France. On the south bank, the Fogni communities allied with Britain. Their actions helped shape the territorial status quo ratified by the Treaty of Paris in 1783.

Although this treaty kept Albréda north of the river under the French flag, Paris had no real control over the river.

The agreement brought only a temporary pause to the conflict between the French and the British. It continued for decades.

How did this play out in the slave trade?

After losing its American colonies, Britain realigned its economic priorities. As it became an industrial power, it used the abolitionist movement as a tool to weaken its economic rivals. Sierragambia proved fertile ground for this project. Britain had already built strong ties with local communities.

The founding of Bathurst (present day Banjul, the capital of The Gambia) in 1816 should not be seen just as colonialism imposed from the outside. It was, rather, a legal formalisation of a preexisting political autonomy.

The colonial order that took shape in the 19th century grew out of forms of local autonomy that coastal communities had built during the slave trade era.

Even though the Barra Fort on the north bank of the Gambia River served to protect trade routes, the southern region became a space of emancipation, dissent and social change.

Freed captives, coastal communities and local authorities came together to strengthen their room for manoeuvre in the face of European powers. The Gambia developed a political identity distinct from its neighbours.

Further south of Banjul, the French attempted to replicate this model by planning to create a “village of freedom” on the Carabane island.

What does this tell us about reparations?

As debates over the memory of the Atlantic slave trade gather pace, calls for reparations are growing louder.

Yet a crucial part of west African history remains trapped in an outdated framework shaped by the types of sources historians have traditionally used.

The “Sierragambia” concept invites us to rethink borders and territories in west Africa. Borders are not simply lines drawn at European imperial conferences. They are also a result of complex interactions shaped by the Atlantic system, African diplomatic choices, and local power dynamics.

Recognising African agency also changes the way we think about reparations today. It moves us beyond a simple story of powerful oppressors and passive victims. The collapse of the Atlantic slave trade was not decided only in London or Paris. It played out on the ground, driven by local resistance and global economic shifts.

– The Gambia’s hidden history: how a tiny river basin influenced colonial trade and slavery
– https://theconversation.com/the-gambias-hidden-history-how-a-tiny-river-basin-influenced-colonial-trade-and-slavery-288205

July 23, 2026

The sex life of treefrogs: how females build better nests by mating with multiple partners

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Phillip Byrne, Associate Professor School of Earth, Atmospheric and Life Sciences (SEALS), University of Wollongong

African grey foam-nest treefrogs (Chiromantis xerampelina) are common across the savannahs and dry forests of south-eastern Africa. Despite their unremarkable outward appearance, these small animals display some of the most intriguing reproductive behaviours known to science. Most notably, the females are highly polyandrous, constructing elaborate foam nests and mating with many different male partners in a breeding season.

Until the 1990s, evolutionary biologists thought that polyandry was extremely rare in nature. Having one mating partner, monandry, was considered to be the norm. However, with the advent of molecular techniques for testing paternity, it quickly became apparent that females across a diversity of animal groups (from bed bugs to blue whales) routinely mate with multiple males during a breeding season. Understanding the benefit of polyandry rapidly became a profound evolutionary puzzle.

Over the past few decades, observational and experimental research by behavioural ecologists has shown that polyandrous females can benefit in many ways. Mating with multiple males may ensure eggs are fertilised, ensure extra nutrients or paternal care for offspring, or increase the genetic diversity of offspring, making them more resilient to future challenges.

Our recent paper introduced a new idea, the “nesting-assistance” hypothesis, as a novel explanation for the evolution of polyandry.

Our team (composed of four prominent herpetologists with expertise in behavioural ecology, evolutionary biology and molecular ecology) theorise that in species where females are primarily responsible for nest construction, and males display some form of nesting assistance, mating with multiple males leads to the production of more viable nests and improved offspring survival or performance.

By studying the reproductive behaviour of a wild population of African grey foam-nest treefrogs for an entire breeding season, we obtained strong support for the “nesting-assistance hypothesis”. As predicted, extra males helped polyandrous females to build a better nest, giving tadpoles a much greater chance of surviving until they hatched.

The mating process

In African grey foam-nest treefrogs the mating process is a protracted and captivating affair. Come hot and steamy summer nights in the wet season between October and February, females begin their reproductive quest by climbing onto tree branches overhanging water. Once a suitable site is chosen, they build a foam nest into which they lay hundreds of eggs.

chiro. Author supplied

For the eggs to be fertilised, females must engage with a male and receive sperm over the five to six hours that it takes to build the nest. This is where things get interesting. While some females mate with just one male during this period, most will attract and mate with multiple partners, and all at once.

A female typically mates with five males simultaneously, although groups of 10 to 15 are not unusual. Scientists call this mating system “simultaneous polyandry”.

Female foam-nest treefrogs build their nests by mixing water with secretions from their reproductive tract and whipping the mixture into a dense foam using their hind legs. The finished nest protects eggs from the intense African heat for almost a week until the tadpoles hatch and drop into the water below. However, if the foam dries out too quickly the entire clutch dies.

Tree frogs calling. Author supplied403 KB (download)

By analysing video recordings, we found that males didn’t simply fertilise the eggs, they also helped to build the nest. During polyandrous matings, several males synchronised their hind-leg movements with the female, and the level of synchrony and churning effort was higher when more males were present. This led to the construction of larger nests that retained moisture for much longer than nests built by a single male and female (monandrous pairs).

The difference had a massive effect on the parents’ reproductive success. Small nests produced by monandrous pairs almost always dried out before the tadpoles hatched, whereas the larger nests built with help from several males were far more likely to remain viable. While polyandrous females benefited by producing more surviving offspring, participating males were rewarded by gaining a share of paternity.

Nesting assistance and polyandry in other species

Chiromantis xerampelina. Author supplied

Across a diversity of invertebrates and vertebrate species where multiple paternity has been reported, males have been observed to show some form of direct or indirect “nesting assistance”. This ranges from males helping to collect and deliver nesting materials through to males investing heavily in excavating nest sites and/or building nests. At present, there is anecdotal evidence for male nesting assistance in solitary bees and wasps, various bird species, sediment and cave-spawning fishes, canids (Arctic foxes and gray wolves) and new-world monkeys (tamarins and marmosets).

Yet, behavioural ecologists have completely overlooked the possibility that help from “male builders” could supply females with a direct benefit that favours polyandry. That is, nobody has previously checked whether more offspring survive when males help build nests. Given this knowledge gap, we now strongly encourage additional tests of the “nesting-assistance hypothesis” across a diversity of animal groups.

We forecast that by enlisting the help of multiple “construction workers”, females in various species might benefit from “home improvements” that elevate the survival and/or performance of their offspring. If this proves to be true, “nesting assistance” may be an important yet currently overlooked explanation for why polyandry is so widespread in nature.

– The sex life of treefrogs: how females build better nests by mating with multiple partners
– https://theconversation.com/the-sex-life-of-treefrogs-how-females-build-better-nests-by-mating-with-multiple-partners-285487