The Conversation – Page 7 – MIL Africa Engine

March 5, 2026

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

March 5, 2026

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

March 5, 2026

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.

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.

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.

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

March 5, 2026

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

March 5, 2026

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

March 5, 2026

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.

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.

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.

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

March 5, 2026

Ebo Taylor took highlife to the world and changed Ghanaian music forever

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Eric Sunu Doe, Senior lecturer, University of Ghana

The news of the passing of Ghanaian highlife star Ebo Taylor on 7 February 2026 felt less like the loss of a public musical figure and more like the closing of a living chapter of Ghanaian musical knowledge. To many, he was a legendary guitarist, composer, arranger, and ambassador of Ghanaian highlife music.

Highlife music is a homegrown Ghanaian popular dance-music, believed to have emerged along the west African coast in the late 19th century. It fuses indigenous musical elements with those of the west. Several styles that characterise it include brass and regimental influenced adaha and its konkoma variants, guitar influence and the “swing” dance bands which were popular with the then emerging local elite. These styles have become the bedrock of today’s popular musical styles.

Ebo Taylor was a custodian of Ghanaian popular musical thought, of ensemble ethics (playing music in a group), and of what it meant to live inside music as a craft and community. His mentorship shaped my musical life as an ethnomusicologist and as a musician in the palmwine genre.

I first encountered him as part of the pioneering guitar class at the University of Ghana in the early 2000s. For the next few years he shaped how I played guitar, how I listened, how I arranged, and how I understood the responsibilities of being in a band. Much of what I do today in my highlife ensemble traces directly back to those encounters.

Who was Ebo Taylor?

Deroy Ebo Taylor’s life in music was inevitable and self-fashioned. He was born on 7 January 1936 in the city of Cape Coast in southern Ghana into a musical environment shaped by church and community music-making. His formal education revolved around music as practice, as his father was a known choirmaster and church organist.

By his late teens in Cape Coast, he was already involved in the dance band culture that would become the backbone of modern Ghanaian popular music. This was the time when “swing” dance band highlife was popular with many Ghanaians. Bands like the Stargazers Dance Band, the Broadway Dance Band and Tempos Dance Band would provide the sounds that shaped Ghana’s fight for independence. These sounds deepened his resolve to be a musician. He often told stories of how he would break school rules to watch or, later, perform with some of the local bands in Cape Coast.

His early music was shaped by the formal instruction he received from his father and his music teacher at secondary school (St Augustine’s College), as well as his peers and eventually the various bands he played in.

Taylor later deepened his theoretical and arranging knowledge through formal studies in London at the Eric Gilder School of Music in the early 1960s. That period placed him within a broader Black Atlantic musical conversation. It connected him to Ghanaian musicians who would later shape African popular music globally. These included saxophonist Teddy Osei and drummer Sol Amarfio, who were members of what would become the globally remowned Osibisa, and contemporaries like Nigerian music star and activist Fela Kuti, who were similarly navigating jazz, highlife and emerging African popular forms.

Highlife pioneer

When he returned to Ghana, he worked with bands, recording studios, and particularly the pioneering Ghanaian label Essiebons Records. It was with Essiebons that his creative genius became widely recognised by Ghanaians, as he contributed in shaping the sound that has become known as highlife from the 1970s. He worked with great Ghanaian musicians like Pat Thomas, C.K. Mann and Gyedu-Blay Ambolley.

His fingerprint could be heard on the songs he worked on, especially in his trademark guitar phrasing and tone, and in his horn arrangements. These included My Love and Music, Love and Death and Atwer Abroba. Some of these songs have been introduced to contemporary global audiences by being sampled by artists including the Black Eyed Peas, Jidenna, Kelly Rowland and Vic Mensa.

Scholars of highlife, including John Collins and Mark Millas Fish, have emphasised the centrality of arranger-bandleaders such as Taylor in shaping modern Ghanaian dance band music. His compositional practice, as I observed it, was quite casual with a deeper sense of reflection.

Taylor’s achievements were honoured domestically and globally. In 2014 he received a Lifetime Achievement Award.

Reflections of a mentee

For those of us who had the privilege of being his students, his greatest legacy was how he imparted knowledge to us. In his classes, he embraced us as the next generation of musicians who would be responsible for carrying the highlife tradition forward. He gave us an understanding of palmwine guitar, how to play the intricate rhythms with relative ease, and how to leave spaces for the voice to tell the stories that were meant to be told.

Today, I model my ensemble pedagogy around some of these ideals Ebo Taylor instilled in us and, as much as possible, I collaborate with professional musicians who come in to engage with my students when their time permits.

His passing marks the closing of yet another library. But we will continue to hear his voice in the numerous songs he shared with us and in those of us who are building on the knowledge he passed down.

– Ebo Taylor took highlife to the world and changed Ghanaian music forever
– https://theconversation.com/ebo-taylor-took-highlife-to-the-world-and-changed-ghanaian-music-forever-276406

March 5, 2026

Iran war fallout: risks for the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Federico Donelli, Associate Professor of International Relations, University of Trieste

The death of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran’s supreme leader, in March 2026 marks the end of a political era in the Middle Eastern country. Khamenei was killed in US and Israeli airstrikes on Iran’s capital, Tehran. This has triggered a war drawing in numerous countries across the Middle East.

The Horn of Africa and Red Sea regions, which link Africa and the Middle East, share a dense web of military, political and economic interactions that enable crises on one shore to quickly affect the other. Here, Somalia, Eritrea, Yemen, Sudan, Ethiopia and Djibouti sit along one of the world’s most important trade and geopolitical corridors.

But the consequences of Khamenei’s death may be less dramatic than many expect. This is because power in Iran is dispersed across entrenched institutions and security elites who are capable of preserving regime continuity.

The Horn of Africa and the Red Sea

Iran is no stranger to the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa. During the 1990s and 2000s, Tehran established security and economic ties with several countries, notably Sudan, to gain a foothold along the Red Sea.

Iran’s influence waned, however, during the 2010s as Gulf states, particularly Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, increased their diplomatic, financial and military presence.

As a political scientist studying Middle Eastern and African security, I have followed Iran’s regional engagement for years. From my perspective, events in Iran and the Gulf matter to African countries because conflicts, arms flows and rivalries can easily spill across shores in a single strategic region.

Three intertwined dynamics shape how Khamenei’s death affects the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa.

Firstly, Tehran’s influence here has declined over the past decade. This is with the exception of Yemen, where Iran supports the Houthi movement, which has previously attacked Israeli-linked vessels.

Secondly, the way this latest conflict was triggered and has escalated may be more important than a change in Iranian leadership. It could contribute to a broader erosion of moderation.

Thirdly, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) – Iran’s powerful military force – is set to play a pivotal role in the post-Khamenei transition.

This is significant for the Horn of Africa and the Red Sea. Iran’s engagement here has largely relied on unconventional methods. Naval manoeuvres are an example, such as the long-term deployment in the Red Sea of the Iranian vessel Saviz, which has served as a logistical and intelligence platform. The country has also deployed military advisers and established arms networks to transport Iranian weapons.

Any future leadership closely aligned with the IRGC is likely to keep using these low-cost tools.

In this sense, continuity will likely prevail over rupture. Iran’s ambitions are filtered through a sober assessment of constraints that the ongoing war may entrench.

Iran’s shifting priorities

Since the 1979 revolution, Iran has considered itself a middle power with legitimate claims to regional pre-eminence. The Red Sea and the Horn of Africa gradually became part of Iran’s expanded strategic geography.

Following the consolidation of the regime promoted by Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Khamenei – who took over in 1989 after his predecessor’s death – progressively translated Iran’s ambition into strategic depth.

This aimed to extend Iran’s security perimeter beyond its borders through alliances, proxies and low-cost commitments.

In the 2000s, Iran cultivated close ties with Sudan and Eritrea.

It established naval access points in the two countries and used soft power tools, such as development aid and religious networks. It considered the Bab al-Mandeb Strait, which is between Yemen and Djibouti, vital for countering Saudi and Israeli influence and maintaining alternative trade routes.

The limitations of this expansion became apparent, however.

Iran’s ambitions soon came up against reality. The country’s economy was weakened by sanctions linked to its nuclear programme and US withdrawal from a 2015 nuclear deal.

Meanwhile, political power remained fragmented across competing institutions. Domestic pressures, including economic hardship and periodic protest movements, were mounting. Instability in neighbouring states such as Iraq, Syria and Yemen made long-term regional power projection costly and uncertain.

After 2015, Saudi Arabia increased its engagement in the Horn of Africa through financial aid, diplomatic pressure and military cooperation linked to the war in Yemen.

Seeking logistical support along the Red Sea and aiming to counter Iran’s influence near the Bab el-Mandeb strait, Saudi Arabia strengthened its ties with regional governments. This prompted Sudan, Djibouti and Eritrea to sever or scale back their relations with Tehran. They effectively aligned themselves with Saudi Arabia and its allies. Iran redirected resources to higher-priority theatres of war, such as Iraq, Syria and Yemen.

For a decade, therefore, Tehran’s presence in the Horn of Africa and the Red Sea has become more selective and opportunistic. Iran has relied on indirect leverage there, such as Houthi operations, rather than direct expansion.

Khamenei’s death is likely to reinforce rather than reverse the trend. In fact, the outcome of the current war and the start of a delicate succession process could prompt an even more cautious approach abroad.

Worsening fragility

Although a change in Iranian leadership may not alter the approach to the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa, the dynamics that led to the recent conflict may have an impact on the region.

The scale and visibility of the Israeli-US attack – and Iran’s direct retaliation – signal something deeper: the erosion of thresholds in the use of force.

Iran is not buying time and avoiding direct confrontation while limiting the manoeuvre room of its rivals.

This could usher in a period of “anything goes”.

Regional actors, from Gulf states to local governments, are likely to feel increasingly justified in bypassing established security norms. The Red Sea has already become a crowded arena. External powers are projecting their strength. Local states are exploiting competition among them. The reshuffling of forces triggered by the war in Iran will have repercussions throughout the region.

In such a context, characterised by multiple hierarchies, even a reduction of Iranian capabilities could have knock-on effects.

The region’s fragility – as seen in civil war in Sudan, tensions between Ethiopia and Eritrea, instability in Somalia and the heavy presence of military bases along maritime routes – amplifies these risks.

In other words, the question is not whether Iran will suddenly expand into east Africa. It is whether the regional climate will shift towards fewer restrictions and greater acceptance of coercive tools.

If escalation becomes normalised in the heart of the Middle East – the region’s most interconnected theatre – the fallout could be felt in places like the Horn of Africa.

Uncertainty in the short term

Khamenei’s death is likely to generate uncertainty in the short term at the regional level, but will lead to continuity in the long term.

Over time, Tehran has adopted what can be termed a “realist defence” doctrine – deterrence through a strong indirect presence, but at reduced cost and risk.

Iran’s view of international politics as a zero-sum game – where one actor’s gain is another’s loss – and its desire to reduce the influence of its rivals are not merely the result of personal legacies. Rather, they are deeply rooted in the country’s identity.

For the Horn of Africa, this means that Tehran is likely to remain a secondary but persistent player: active enough to hinder its rivals’ strategies, yet restrained enough to avoid major commitments.

– Iran war fallout: risks for the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa
– https://theconversation.com/iran-war-fallout-risks-for-the-red-sea-and-the-horn-of-africa-277512

March 4, 2026

Iran war fallout for the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa: political analyst weighs up the risks

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Federico Donelli, Associate Professor of International Relations, University of Trieste

The Horn of Africa and the Red Sea

Iran’s influence waned, however, during the 2010s as Gulf states, particularly Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, increased their diplomatic, financial and military presence.

Three intertwined dynamics shape how Khamenei’s death affects the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa.

Secondly, the way this latest conflict was triggered and has escalated may be more important than a change in Iranian leadership. It could contribute to a broader erosion of moderation.

Thirdly, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) – Iran’s powerful military force – is set to play a pivotal role in the post-Khamenei transition.

Any future leadership closely aligned with the IRGC is likely to keep using these low-cost tools.

In this sense, continuity will likely prevail over rupture. Iran’s ambitions are filtered through a sober assessment of constraints that the ongoing war may entrench.

Iran’s shifting priorities

This aimed to extend Iran’s security perimeter beyond its borders through alliances, proxies and low-cost commitments.

In the 2000s, Iran cultivated close ties with Sudan and Eritrea.

The limitations of this expansion became apparent, however.

Iran’s ambitions soon came up against reality. The country’s economy was weakened by sanctions linked to its nuclear programme and US withdrawal from a 2015 nuclear deal.

After 2015, Saudi Arabia increased its engagement in the Horn of Africa through financial aid, diplomatic pressure and military cooperation linked to the war in Yemen.

Worsening fragility

Although a change in Iranian leadership may not alter the approach to the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa, the dynamics that led to the recent conflict may have an impact on the region.

The scale and visibility of the Israeli-US attack – and Iran’s direct retaliation – signal something deeper: the erosion of thresholds in the use of force.

Iran is not buying time and avoiding direct confrontation while limiting the manoeuvre room of its rivals.

This could usher in a period of “anything goes”.

In such a context, characterised by multiple hierarchies, even a reduction of Iranian capabilities could have knock-on effects.

If escalation becomes normalised in the heart of the Middle East – the region’s most interconnected theatre – the fallout could be felt in places like the Horn of Africa.

Uncertainty in the short term

Khamenei’s death is likely to generate uncertainty in the short term at the regional level, but will lead to continuity in the long term.

Over time, Tehran has adopted what can be termed a “realist defence” doctrine – deterrence through a strong indirect presence, but at reduced cost and risk.

– Iran war fallout for the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa: political analyst weighs up the risks
– https://theconversation.com/iran-war-fallout-for-the-red-sea-and-the-horn-of-africa-political-analyst-weighs-up-the-risks-277512

March 4, 2026

Teaching mathematical statistics: one lecturer’s way of testing what students understand

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Michael Johan von Maltitz, Associate Professor, Mathematical Statistics and Actuarial Science, University of the Free State

It’s getting tougher to assess how much university students have learnt. In his work as a Mathematical Statistics lecturer, Michael von Maltitz has tried a new way of getting students to learn, and of assessing what they’ve absorbed and retained. Students have to show and discuss how they arrived at their understanding of the subject. They can’t just rely on cramming, because he interviews them as if they were applying for a job.

What prompted you to try something new?

“We understand, but how will it be asked in the test?” This is the question that was posed to me time and again in 2019 when I started lecturing a module in mathematical statistics at second-year university level.

I knew I had to make a change. I already understood that students were stressed, prone to memorising content and cramming before tests and examinations, and using short cuts to attain a good grade, rather than to learn anything.

What did you then do differently?

The module was unfamiliar to me so I decided to allow the students to approach the course content in the same way as I was: gathering information from different sources and combining and collating it digitally, reflecting on how it helped to meet certain objectives or learning outcomes.

These portfolios of learning evidence would contain course and outcome information, content knowledge (including theorems and proofs), examples with solutions, showpiece assignments, links to and discussions on online tutorials or videos, and paragraphs of self-reflection. Readers might see these portfolios as “study notes on steroids”.

Assessing the portfolio would be an exercise in evaluating the learning process, rather than a memorised product.

The process was challenging but offered a reward for me and my students – that of discovery. Students seemed to be genuinely learning.

Besides checking their portfolios, I needed a way to assess progress that didn’t fall into the old habits of memorisation and “teaching to the test”. I needed to ensure that a student had created their own portfolio and could defend the content in it. And I needed an assessment method that would not take more time and effort than coming up with a unique written test or examination, formulating a typeset memorandum, and marking more than 100 answer scripts, giving feedback that the students might never look at.

I decided to test this form of deep learning using a workplace method – the interview. In a 30-minute online interview with each student, I asked questions about their understanding of the module content, as well as questions concerning their own portfolios. Each student had to defend the information collected and reflected upon.

The interview worked perfectly when paired with the portfolio. I assessed a set of portfolios in an evening, gave typed feedback, and then interviewed those portfolios’ creators the next day. Feedback was immediate, and the interview assessment became a learning experience, for me and the student.

They were able to defend their portfolios if I made any errors on the portfolio assessment, and I could give the correct answer immediately to any interview question they were stumped by.

Afterwards, the recording of the interview could be given to the student, and if they felt I was being unfair at all, they could compare their interview with another student’s. In doing so, the students themselves could moderate my assessment practice.

What results did you observe?

After a year or two of teaching and assessing like this, I noticed my students seemed to understand more of the content. They retained more into their final year, they were fluent in “statistics” communication and they had better time management and self-reflection skills.

Students told me that they were asked the same questions in their first job interviews as I had asked in my modules, and that they felt much more at ease in those first few job interviews.

How did you confirm these results?

To formally test the developments I had noticed in my students, I conducted research on the class in 2022, which was published in conference proceedings and an article.

This study showed that students experienced significant learning in every facet of an educational framework known as Fink’s taxonomy:

foundational knowledge
application and communication
integration of content into other areas
self-reflection
interest
learning how to learn.

Thus, the method of learning and assessment could formally be called a success within Statistics.

Can this approach be used in other courses?

Yes. One might argue that if this method can be employed for a mathematical module, it can be utilised anywhere. Mathematical modules contain theorems, proofs, definitions, theoretical and practical problem solving – items that might seem difficult to assess through verbal communication. But it is the understanding of the ideas behind the theorems, the stories of and the tricks used within the proofs, the application of the theoretical problems, that are so important in an age where your favourite AI can provide content knowledge.

Mathematical proofs and worked calculations, both of which take time in practice, can be assessed by looking at a portfolio containing these items with the student’s annotations and reflections. The understandings of these concepts are assessed in the interview.

Likewise, in other subjects, a portfolio could be used for assessing knowledge-based content, while the interview could be used to gauge a student’s understanding of what was put into the portfolio, why they chose that content, why the content is important, and how that content is used in practice.

– Teaching mathematical statistics: one lecturer’s way of testing what students understand
– https://theconversation.com/teaching-mathematical-statistics-one-lecturers-way-of-testing-what-students-understand-275501