Category: The Conversation

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Kaitlyn Rabe, Lecturer, The Ohio State University

Rwanda has threatened to withdraw its troops from Mozambique’s Cabo Delgado province, signalling a potentially decisive shift in the southern African country’s security architecture.

The threat of withdrawal is driven by a European Union (EU) warning that it may stop funding the Rwandan Defence Forces’ mission in Mozambique in May 2026.

Rwanda’s military intervention in northern Mozambique began in July 2021, when Kigali deployed about 1,000 troops and police at the request of the Mozambican government.

Around December 2022, the EU began to contribute to this Rwandan mission, initially disbursing €20 million, and adding another €20 million in November 2024.

The deployment followed a major escalation of violence by Islamist insurgents in Cabo Delgado. The insurgents captured strategic towns near natural resource sites, such as Mocímboa da Praia, and carried out attacks near a TotalEnergies gas project in Palma.

Rwandan forces quickly helped retake key areas and stabilise zones critical to energy infrastructure, in this way distinguishing themselves from slower-moving multilateral responses.

In 2024, Rwanda increased its troop presence. This helped fill the void left by the withdrawal of a Southern African Development Community (SADC) mission which had begun in July 2021.

However, the Rwandan mission has begun to look less effective in the last couple of years. There were only four documented clashes between Rwandan forces and Islamic State rebels in Mozambique between December 2024 and March 2025. This had deadly consequences for civilians, who are a strategic target of the rebel group.

I study security dynamics, regional interventions such as Rwanda’s mission in Mozambique, and insurgency responses across sub-Saharan Africa. In my view, Rwanda’s threatened withdrawal wouldn’t be just a tactical shift. It would be a structural turning point. This risks creating a security vacuum in Cabo Delgado.

This exposes the limits of regional and continental intervention mechanisms when local structures remain weak, fragmented and unable to sustain security gains without external support.

---

Read more: Rwanda’s military support to other countries is part of a strategy to boost its reputation

---

Should Rwanda withdraw from Mozambique, Maputo would face a limited set of options.

It could once again turn to multilateral forces, such as the SADC or the African Union. Given that the SADC has struggled to meet past security commitments, this appears unlikely. Instead, Mozambique may continue to prefer bilateral commitments – most likely with Tanzania – to shore up its counterinsurgency efforts.

In any case, any disruption of counterinsurgency efforts – and failure to address the root causes of unrest – will inevitably lead to further violence and suffering for civilians.

Inside Cabo Delgado

Cabo Delgado is endowed with natural resources, but is one of the poorest regions of Mozambique. It holds reserves of graphite, gold, timber and precious gems. The region contributes about 80% of the world’s ruby supplies.

The discovery of a natural gas reserve in 2010 led to an influx of foreign direct investment by gas companies.

The perception that these resources and investments have not benefited the local population has driven resentment. This began to manifest in the growth of the Islamic State-affiliated Ahl al-Sunnah wa al Jamma’ah (ASWJ), which locals refer to as “Al-Shabaab” (not connected with the Somali entity of the same name).

The group sought to present itself as a legitimate alternative to a state that had failed to deliver services.

---

Read more: Offshore gas finds offered major promise for Mozambique: what went wrong

---

Although the Cabo Delgado insurgency began in 2017, it hit major international headlines in March 2021. This followed a jihadist attack in Palma that targeted a TotalEnergies natural gas project, killing dozens and forcibly displacing thousands. TotalEnergies suspended operations, and only in November 2025 announced its intention to restart activities in Mozambique.

Since the insurgency began in 2017, about 6,500 people have been killed, and 1.3 million displaced.

After years of failing to contain the insurgency, the Mozambican army was forced to seek external counterinsurgency and counterterrorism support.

The SADC sent an initial contingent of peacekeepers in July 2021. However, member states were accused of lagging on their commitments. Meanwhile, Rwanda – outwardly eager to cement its reputation as Africa’s most professional and effective military force – quickly garnered a reputation for its incisive interventions.

But it intervened largely in areas rich in natural resources, while neglecting other areas of Cabo Delgado.

Potential scenarios

The mere announcement of a potential drawdown of Rwandan troops is a psychological victory for Mozambique’s jihadist groups. In May 2024, insurgents claimed victory over SADC forces following news of the mission’s withdrawal. A dangerous vacuum would follow the withdrawal itself.

In my view, there are three possible scenarios for the security of Mozambique.

First, Mozambique could invite the SADC to return as part of a multilateral mission. It would, however, have the same logistical and political obstacles that plagued its first mission.

Second, the African Union could intervene under Article 4(h) of the act that established it. This provision allows for intervention in cases of war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity in member states. Though legally plausible given the documented crimes against humanity in Cabo Delgado since 2017, an AU direct intervention is unlikely. The union has shown consistent reluctance to invoke Article 4(h) without invitation from member states.

---

Read more: Mozambique’s long struggle to build a nation – four novels that tell the story

---

Third, the most probable scenario is a reinforcement of Tanzania’s existing, if modest, military presence in Cabo Delgado. Dar es Salaam has the clearest strategic interest in stabilising its southern neighbour.

Malawi, which also borders Mozambique’s northern regions, has a fraught historical relationship with Maputo. This is a result of Lilongwe’s support for Mozambican guerrilla movements throughout the civil war of the 1970s and 1980s.

Tanzania’s porous border with Cabo Delgado and the involvement of Tanzanian nationals in Mozambique’s violent extremist groups make it the neighbouring country most affected by counterinsurgency in Mozambique.

Scaling up from the current contingent of 300 troops in Mozambique, however, would require considerable political will and logistical coordination.

What next

Those are only some of the scenarios that may occur.

The African Union will most likely not intervene with a multilateral mission of its own accord. The government of Mozambique itself would have to request it, but prefers more agile, bilateral missions.

Whichever actor may replace Rwanda, the withdrawal of troops would result in a security vacuum with likely fatal consequences for civilians in Cabo Delgado, and repercussions for neighbouring countries, particularly Tanzania.

– Mozambique relies on Rwanda’s troops to fight terrorism: what happens if they leave?
– https://theconversation.com/mozambique-relies-on-rwandas-troops-to-fight-terrorism-what-happens-if-they-leave-280045

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Abdoulaye Sakho, Professeur de droit, Université Cheikh Anta Diop de Dakar

Two months after the 2025 Africa Cup of Nations (Afcon) final, which was won by Senegal in January 2026, the appeal board of the Confederation of African Football (Caf) decided to strip them of the title and give it instead to their opponents, Morocco. This was because the Senegalese team had walked off the pitch for about 10 minutes.

Caf’s ruling is based on Articles 82 and 84 of the African football body’s regulations. It goes against the referee’s decision to resume play and see the match through to its conclusion. What does sports law say on this matter? And what are the implications of the decision? We asked sports law specialist Abdoulaye Sakho for his opinion.

---

What is the legal basis for the decision?

The legal basis lies in Chapter 35 of the Africa Cup of Nations regulations, which covers team withdrawals, specifically Articles 82 and 84, which govern team withdrawal.

The Caf appeal panel decided that:

In application of Article 84 of the regulations of the Caf Africa Cup of Nations (Afcon), the Senegal national team is declared to have forfeited the final match.

The legal classification is a central issue. Some described Senegal’s exit from the pitch as “match abandonment”. The panel labelled it “withdrawal” as defined in the regulations.

---

Read more: Senegal stripped of title: Afcon ruling is lawful, but it puts Caf’s reputation at risk

---

While similar tournament rules might refer to a “forfeiture of the match”, the appeals panel adopts the concept of “withdrawal” as defined by the Afcon regulations. In law, and especially in sports law, this distinction is crucial. It determine which rules apply. Think of it as a medical diagnosis. Give the wrong one, and the treatment that follows may do more harm than good.

What was their reasoning?

It is difficult to speak with certainty about the panel’s reasoning. However, we can assume that the Caf appeals board acted independently and exercised its full discretion as an autonomous body. It was within its rights to disregard a key factor: the match was played to completion.

Yet, I will admit that their reasoning remains puzzling to me. One thing is certain, the referee never stopped the match. Some Senegalese players left the pitch, then resumed play. He opted for a brief suspension, then resumed play. He did not declare the match over. That decision to resume the match is significant. Under law 5 of the International Football Association Board, the referee has

full authority to enforce the laws of the game … stop, suspend or abandon the match for any offences or because of outside interference.

The regulations don’t stipulate that there is a set time limit – such as 10, 15, or 20 minutes – after which a match must be abandoned. In this instance, the referee is the master of the game. He has made his decision, and that decision is binding on everyone, erga omnes (towards everyone) as legal purists would put it, because Law 5 is equally clear on this point:

The decisions of the referee regarding facts connected with play, including whether or not a goal is scored and the result of the match, are final. The decisions of the referee, and all other match officials, must always be respected.

Has there ever been a case like this at this level?

I am not aware of a similar case in an Afcon final. This is unprecedented at a continental final level. In football, authorities rarely overturn decisions on the pitch.

One exception was the South Africa vs Senegal match in the 2018 World Cup qualifiers. It was replayed after it was proven that the match referee, “bribed” by bettors, had made a decision that had an “illegal influence on the match result”.

There are also well-known cases of suspended matches in the history of African soccer. One example is the 2019 Caf Champions League club final between Morocco’s Wydad Casablanca and Tunisia’s Espérance de Tunis. The Wydad players had refused to resume play after a disallowed goal. The referee also refused to consult the video assisted referee, because of a technical malfunction.

---

Read more: Afcon drama: what went wrong and what went right at the continent’s biggest football cup in Morocco

---

Wydad never returned to play. After more than an hour of deliberation, the referee blew the final whistle, ruling that Wydad had forfeited the match. The final ruling in that case upheld that the refusal to resume play constituted a forfeit under the Caf disciplinary code, and the Moroccan team lost the match by default. The key difference is that in the 2025 Afcon final, Senegal did resume the match and played it to its conclusion.

What happens next?

It is well established in sports law that when a sports authority has rendered a final decision – as is the case of the decision by the Caf appeals board – the international Court of Arbitration for Sport may be approached to review the decision through an act called a “statement of appeal”, with a filing fee of US$1,279.

Both sides submit written arguments, a hearing is held and then the court issues its ruling. Senegal’s football federation has filed a request to the court to suspend the Caf decision. This will allow it to retain its title until the final court ruling, which is expected in a few months.

---

Read more: Can an African team win the World Cup? New football study crunches the numbers

---

This case is a textbook example for sports law because it raises several complex legal issues that cannot be fully addressed here, including the interpretation of sports regulations, the referee’s authority over the game, the composition of judicial bodies, the issue of estoppel (ethics) in ongoing legal proceedings, and the governance of sports organisations.

– Afcon controversy: what a sports law specialist says about Senegal being stripped of the title
– https://theconversation.com/afcon-controversy-what-a-sports-law-specialist-says-about-senegal-being-stripped-of-the-title-279779

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By MJ (Thinus) Booysen, Professor in Engineering, Stellenbosch University

The minibus taxi is ubiquitous in southern Africa. These vehicles are the backbone of the urban economy, providing affordable mobility for millions. In Cape Town, South Africa’s second most populous city, they are central to the transport landscape.

Around two-thirds of the city’s public transport users rely on paratransit services (which respond flexibly to demand), carrying about 830,000 daily passengers across 1,466 routes, and run by private individuals or associations rather than the state.

But because these vehicles run on petrol and diesel, they also contribute to greenhouse gas emissions, poor urban air quality and rising fuel costs.

The global shift away from internal combustion engines is accelerating, and public transport must be part of it. Bringing the electric vehicle transition to this sector, however, is not simply a matter of replacing one vehicle with another. In African paratransit systems, electrification raises a harder question: how do you change the vehicle without undermining the service on which so many people depend?

Electric minibuses would change how these vehicles operate, where and when they stop, how they interact with the grid, and driver decision making. They also require charging infrastructure that fits into the rhythms of taxi ranks, neighbourhoods and routes without disrupting service.

With Cape Town expected to launch its first few fully electric minibus taxi routes in Century City later in 2026, electrification is no longer a distant possibility. It is now urgent to understand whether it can work in practice for operators, passengers and the electricity grid.

We are a team of engineering researchers studying transport electrification in sub-Saharan Africa. In a series of studies, we have examined environmental and financial viability of electric vehicles under current mobility patterns, including charger placement, access, and adapted driving and charging behaviour.

Our new research found that electrifying minibus taxis is both necessary and possible. But it is also a complex challenge, with environmental trade-offs, grid constraints, operator costs and equity questions. Although our work focuses on Cape Town, the lessons are relevant to other African cities where paratransit dominates daily mobility.

Environmental perspective

The global narrative around electric vehicles often assumes they are a simple win for the climate. But this does not hold everywhere, especially where electricity still comes largely from fossil fuels. In South Africa, coal accounts for approximately 83% of electricity generation.

Using real minibus taxi mobility patterns in Cape Town, our research compared the energy use, emissions and costs of electric and conventional minibuses. It found a counter-intuitive result: under current grid conditions, an electric minibus taxi has about a 14% higher carbon dioxide equivalent footprint than a standard diesel minibus. In other words, charging an electric taxi on a coal-heavy grid can currently produce more greenhouse gas emissions than running a diesel vehicle.

That is not the end of the story. Electric minibuses still offer major environmental and health benefits. They eliminate tailpipe particulate pollution, reduce brake wear, and cut noise. These local benefits matter in dense urban areas where people live close to busy roads. As South Africa’s electricity system shifts towards more renewable energy, the climate case for electric minibus taxis will strengthen too.

So the real conclusion is not that electric taxis are a bad idea. Rather, they are a long-term climate solution whose immediate value lies especially in cleaner air, lower noise and better urban health.

Energy perspective

Electrifying Cape Town’s minibus taxi fleet would add substantial new electricity demand. In one study, the typical vehicle required about 50.8 kWh per day, scaling to roughly 460 MWh a day across a fleet of about 9,000 vehicles, or the equivalent of about 65,700 homes. The key issue is not just how much energy is needed but where and when vehicles charge.

Here, the newer work changes the story. It is tempting to think the answer is simply to install faster chargers at taxi ranks. But our modelling suggests that access to charging matters more than charging speed alone. Home or secure neighbourhood charging has the biggest effect on whether current mobility patterns can be sustained and on how well the system performs when driver behaviour adapts.

A typical daily charge of around 50 kWh might take roughly two to three hours on a 22 kW charger, or just over an hour on a 50 kW charger, though real charging times vary. But faster charging does not solve the real problem: drivers still need reliable places and enough stationary time to charge without undermining service or losing income.

The studies also show that chargers should not be planned only for formal taxi ranks. Infrastructure stops and informal stops matter too, because that is how paratransit actually works.

Nor will the effects be shared equally. Because apartheid-era geography still shapes where people live and work, operators in historically marginalised areas are more vulnerable when home charging is unavailable. Charging infrastructure is therefore not only a technical issue, but also an equity one.

There is also a grid challenge. Depot-only charging creates early-morning and daytime peaks, while home charging shifts demand into the evening residential peak. Unmanaged charging could therefore worsen stress on an already fragile electricity system. But time-of-use tariffs, managed charging, and better alignment with solar and other renewables could integrate electric taxis far more intelligently.

Operators’ perspective

For taxi operators, the economics of switching to electric vehicles are complicated. In one comparison, the electric option cost about 1.5 times as much as the diesel Toyota Ses’fikile – a 16-seater minibus – that currently dominates the market. Many operators already work on thin margins and face expensive finance.

There are also financing costs: typically a 10% deposit and a 20% interest rate over a 72-month repayment period. Many operators may also be seen as high-risk by lenders, making finance difficult to access.

At the same time, the running-cost case for electric minibuses is much stronger. Energy costs are generally 33% to 57% lower than diesel fuel costs, and electric motors require less maintenance. For operators, then, this is a story of higher upfront cost set against lower operating cost, with the outcome depending heavily on electricity tariffs, finance terms and access to affordable charging.

Preparing for electrification

Careful planning and simulation are needed to roll out electric minibus taxis at scale. Policymakers need to understand the interactions between vehicle energy demand, charging infrastructure, grid capacity, driver behaviour and passenger service.

That is why we modelled driver behaviour in an electrified paratransit system. Unlike formal bus services, minibus taxi drivers adapt routes, stops and charging to passenger demand and competition. Our simulations show that constrained depot charging increases waiting times and reduces trips served. But with home charging, depot congestion falls sharply and service quality is largely maintained.

This matters because electrification is not just about vehicles and chargers, but about how informal transport systems actually work. If planners treat taxi operations like centrally controlled bus fleets, they will design the wrong interventions. The better approach is to plan around real mobility patterns, charging behaviour and neighbourhood inequality.

It is therefore crucial to bring taxi operators, municipalities, energy providers and communities together. Cleaner air and lower noise must be weighed against the grid’s current emissions profile. Operator economics must improve through better tariffs and financing. And charging infrastructure must be placed not only at depots and ranks, but also in the neighbourhoods and informal stops that shape paratransit every day.

With targeted subsidies, better overnight charging access, investment in renewable energy and clear policy support, Cape Town can begin building a public transport transition that is cleaner, more realistic and more just. If it gets this right, it could offer a blueprint for cities across Africa.

– Electric minibus taxis: the challenges and gains facing Cape Town’s transition
– https://theconversation.com/electric-minibus-taxis-the-challenges-and-gains-facing-cape-towns-transition-278808

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Anthony Michael Butler, Professor of Political Studies, University of Cape Town

Nelson Mandela remains one of the most revered political leaders of modern times. He is widely credited with guiding South Africa through a peaceful transition from apartheid to democracy. He embodied racial reconciliation, and lent moral authority to a fragile new state. Yet admiration for Mandela the symbol has often obscured a more difficult question. How effective was Mandela in the day-to-day exercise of presidential power?

Most assessments of political leaders focus on their impact in terms of economic success and policy achievements. Some are also assessed through their character, integrity and moral vision. Both approaches have value, but they risk missing something essential: how leaders actually use the power of their office.

I am a professor of political studies. In a recent study, I proposed a simple framework for analysing presidential leadership across four dimensions – the relationships between:

• executive and symbolic power

• party and state

• domestic and international roles

• formal authority and informal influence.

Applying this framework to Mandela’s presidency between 1994 and 1999, I derive a more complex, and more critical, assessment than is often offered. Such an analysis is useful at a time when Mandela’s legacy is increasingly contested.

A powerful symbol, a limited executive head

Mandela’s symbolic authority was extraordinary. He helped to stabilise a deeply divided society and reassured anxious minorities fearing a loss of power and privilege. He gave moral meaning to the new democratic order. His gestures, such as donning a Springbok (South Africa’s national rugby team) jersey at a world cup final and embracing former adversaries, were not incidental. They were central to his political project of reconciliation.

But Mandela showed far less interest in the executive dimension of leadership. He delegated most of the core work of governing to his deputy, Thabo Mbeki. He also allowed cabinet ministers considerable autonomy. As a result, key areas of policy were shaped without sustained presidential direction or public accountability. This mattered because the presidency in South Africa’s system combines both head-of-state and head-of-government roles. The potential synergy between symbolic authority and executive control was therefore left largely unrealised.

The consequences were especially visible in moments of crisis. The HIV/Aids epidemic, which intensified during Mandela’s presidency, required both decisive executive action and strong public leadership. Mandela delivered neither of those, and he later acknowledged his failure to act more forcefully.

Blurring party and state

Mandela also struggled to manage the relationship between the governing African National Congress (ANC) and the state. South Africa entered democracy as a dominant-party system, and the ANC’s authority was both a source of stability and a potential danger.

Rather than drawing clear institutional boundaries, Mandela endorsed practices that blurred them. The policy of “cadre deployment” – placing loyal party members in key state positions – was intended to transform a state inherited from apartheid. But it also weakened institutional autonomy and contributed to longer-term problems of patronage and politicisation.

Mandela was not alone in shaping these developments. Many of the ideas originated with colleagues such as Mbeki. But as president, he lent his authority to them and did little to mitigate their risks.

Foreign policy: ideals and inconsistencies

Internationally, Mandela was expected to champion human rights and democratic values. Early statements under his name suggested that these principles would guide South Africa’s foreign policy.

In practice, however, foreign policy was often inconsistent. The government maintained close relationships with authoritarian regimes that had supported the anti-apartheid struggle. There were also tensions between proclaimed values and strategic or financial considerations. Efforts to isolate Nigeria after human rights abuses, for example, generated backlash within Africa. Relationships with countries such as Libya and Indonesia raised questions about the role of party funding in diplomatic decisions.

Mandela’s global stature brought South Africa visibility and goodwill. But this was not systematically used to advance clear domestic or economic priorities.

The hidden world of informal power

Finally, Mandela’s presidency illustrates the importance of informal power. Beyond formal constitutional authority, leaders shape outcomes through networks, appointments, and the mobilisation of financial resources.

Mandela was deeply involved in fundraising for the ANC, both domestically and internationally. Some of these practices blurred the line between party and state, and between legitimate support and undue influence. He also relied on personal relationships and informal interventions to shape economic and political outcomes. For example, he gave R2 million (hundreds of thousands of US dollars) to embattled politician Jacob Zuma in 2000, followed by another R1 million on 23 June 2005, days after Mbeki had sacked Zuma as deputy president and prosecutors had announced he would be charged with corruption.

Such practices were not unique to Mandela, nor to South Africa. But they helped establish patterns that would later become a problem, particularly as competition within the ANC intensified and access to resources became central to political power.

Rethinking a legacy

None of this diminishes Mandela’s historic role in ending apartheid or his contribution to national reconciliation. He set an important precedent by stepping down after a single term, and he helped to anchor South Africa’s constitutional order in its formative years.

But a focus on leadership practice rather than rhetoric, symbol and myth reveals a more uneven record. Mandela was an exceptional symbolic leader. He was less effective in integrating that symbolic authority with the demands of executive governance, institutional design and policy leadership.

Reassessing Mandela in this way is not an exercise in revisionism for its own sake. It is a reminder that even the most admired leaders operate within constraints. Understanding how they use power is essential if we are to learn from their successes, as well as their limitations.

– Nelson Mandela was a towering global symbol – but how effective was he as a president?
– https://theconversation.com/nelson-mandela-was-a-towering-global-symbol-but-how-effective-was-he-as-a-president-279599

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Jonathan Presley, Department of Political Science, University of Amsterdam

Labour migration from Kenya was oriented towards Africa, North America and Europe until the 1990s. Kenyans then started moving to the Gulf countries, such as Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, the United Arab Emirates and Oman. Most Kenyan labour migrants to the Gulf perform low-waged work, the women in domestic occupations and the men as security guards.

By 2025 over 300,000 Kenyans were working in three Gulf countries – Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. A few thousand more were stationed in Oman, Bahrain and Kuwait.

The remittances sent to Kenya from workers abroad grew exponentially. In 1990 remittances totalled just under US$140 million, accounting for 1.6% of Kenya’s GDP. By 2024 this was US$5 billion, 4.2% of GDP.

Evidence of migrant workers suffering human rights abuses has remained a constant source of tension, however. Workers have reported forced labour, working excessive hours without rest in violation of contracts and labour standards, and restrictions on freedom of movement. Threats, humiliation, intimidation, isolation, and physical or sexual abuse have also been reported.

In the early 2010s the media began reporting distress calls from migrants. Nonprofit organisations also began putting pressure on the Kenyan government to act. The outcry led the government to impose a ban on migration to Gulf countries, including Saudi Arabia. It also extended its regulation of labour migration. The ban to Saudi Arabia was lifted in 2016 after a bilateral agreement was signed.

---

Read more: 250,000 Ethiopians migrate every year: what drives them and what needs to change

---

Yet distress cases continued. By late 2021 a report from the Kenyan Senate Committee on Labour and Social Welfare called for a renewed ban on migration.

As researchers we have worked on different aspects of migration for many years. We recently completed a project focusing on origin countries’ policies surrounding low-waged labour migration. In a recent paper we explored the case of Kenyan migration to Saudi Arabia. The study involved interviews with Kenyan stakeholders and analysis of policy documents, government statements and news reports. We looked at how Kenya balances an economic strategy of emigration with protection of its citizens from rights violations abroad.

Our findings were that the Kenyan government has prioritised increasing labour migration over protection of workers.

Re-engagement with Saudi Arabia

On assuming office in 2022, President William Ruto promised to battle Kenya’s high unemployment by creating a million jobs abroad for Kenyan workers. With a goal of raising annual remittances to US$10 billion, Kenya looked to Saudi Arabia to help achieve this. As the cabinet secretary for foreign affairs explained:

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia wishes to get more Kenyans employed in their country and we will play our part as a government to ensure that more Kenyans can work and earn well working in Saudi Arabia.

A series of high level diplomatic meetings between Kenya and Saudi Arabia took place in the early months of the new government. Kenyan officials then presented Saudi Arabia as a safe destination for Kenyan workers.

As one of the people we spoke to explained:

The perception of Saudi Arabia as bad will change, we (the government) are the ones to change it.

The government insisted that rights abuses originated in Kenya. It blamed rogue Kenyan employment agencies, and promised actions aimed at improving and regulating labour migration out of Kenya.

---

Read more: Half a million Ethiopian migrants have been deported from Saudi Arabia in 5 years – what they go through

---

In 2023 Kenya’s national assembly approved the National Policy on Labour Migration. Its aims included improving coordination of labour migration governance, promotion of foreign employment and protection of Kenyan migrant workers.

In 2024 the Ministry of Labour and Social Protection put in place airport screening checks to protect against document fraud. However, by 2025 many of the promised interventions had failed to materialise. These included safe houses in Saudi Arabia for workers seeking to escape abuse, and more labour attachés to monitor the implementation of bilateral agreements and handle complaints.

Taken at face value, the government’s insistence that recruitment practices in Kenya lie at the root of abuse would favour an increase in pre-departure training and better education for migrants about their rights. Yet, in late 2024, the Ministry of Labour and Social Protection announced it was reducing the amount of pre-departure training for labour migrants. And, despite frequent statements on signing Bilateral Labour Agreements, no new agreement with Saudi Arabia has been made public.

Income versus protection

Our analysis indicates that the Kenyan government’s reluctance to improve protection is driven by three things.

First, pressure exerted by Saudi Arabia. A report from a 2021 Senate investigation shows that Saudi officials pressured Kenyan officials to present a better public picture of working conditions in Saudi Arabia. The recent reductions in pre-departure training time seem to have come at the request of employers in Saudi Arabia.

Second, Kenya’s vulnerability to this pressure. Saudi Arabia represents the second largest source of remittances back to Kenya, hosts the largest Kenyan diaspora in the Gulf countries and shows openness to increasing the number of Kenyan workers.

Interviews indicated a prevailing view that putting too many protection measures in place would cause Kenya to lose job opportunities to workers from other countries such as Ethiopia. Moreover, the government’s insistence on increasing labour migration as a way to reduce unemployment may make Kenya susceptible to destination country demands for more limited rights protections.

Third, political interest in the recruitment sector. Many respondents pointed to the recruitment industry as a source of abuses such as contract substitution.

The Labour Migration Bill, which aims to regulate the recruitment industry, has been stalled since 2024. Aligned with information we received, a recent New York Times exposé revealed that regulation is hampered by the fact that many agencies are owned by high ranking politicians. This implies politicians have a financial stake in ongoing recruitment and minimal oversight.

Going forward

If the Kenyan government wishes to continue to encourage labour emigration, it should look for ways to combine this with protection. Improving its migration bureaucracy would allow Kenya to strengthen its negotiating position with destination countries while also improving protection.

A bureaucracy that weeds out bad recruitment agencies and has control over its labour migrant population – for example through credential checks, training and community outreach – is highly desirable for destination countries.

Better protection would also improve Kenya’s negotiating position by demonstrating that it will not make deals at any cost in order to meet campaign promises.

– Kenyans are encouraged to work abroad, but protection rights remain weak – new research
– https://theconversation.com/kenyans-are-encouraged-to-work-abroad-but-protection-rights-remain-weak-new-research-278802

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Narcisse Martial Yèdji, Sociologue politiste et enseignant-chercheur, University d’Abomey-Calavi de Bénin

Benin voters will head to the polls on April 12, 2026 to elect their next president. This election comes at a time when Benin’s political landscape has been profoundly transformed by reforms to the party system and the electoral code. They have created new power balances and deliberately tightened the eligibility requirements for the presidency. Political sociologist Narcisse M. Yèdji spoke with The Conversation Africa on the issue. He explains how these changes have narrowed the range of choices, reshaped power dynamics, and made voter turnout a key factor for the election’s legitimisation.

---

How have party system reforms in recent years reshaped power dynamics for this presidential election?

Upon taking office, Patrice Talon launched a series of reforms, overhauling the country’s economic, administrative, and political structures.

Reforming the party system and the electoral code became a central priority. Presented as a way to streamline and professionalise politics, these reforms, in fact, redefined the rules of electoral competition.

Two key mechanisms stand out ahead of he April 12 presidential election – the overhaul of the political landscape and introduction of the endorsement system (parrainage).

The law on political parties revised in 2018 just before the 2019 legislative elections made it much harder for parties to gain legal recognition.

A new requirement demanded wider territorial presence. Previously a party needed 120 founding members spread across municipalities. It jumped to 1,155 covering 77 municipalities in 2018. This led to a sharp drop in the number of legally recognized parties.

On the eve of the 2021 presidential elections, the country had only 14 officially recognized political parties, compared to more than 200 before the reform.

This cleanup largely benefited the two major pro government parties: the Union progressiste (Progressive Union) and the Bloc républicain (Republican Bloc). They absorbed smaller parties through mergers and defections. The opposition was left weakened with only a few remaining parties, including the The Democrats, the main opposition party, lingering on the margins of the two major political blocs.

This reshaping of the party system has created a real power imbalance. It benefits the two-headed bloc supporting the president. Their members have privileged access to the state’s political, administrative, and institutional resources.

Presented as an modernisation of the party system, this reform has nevertheless led to the exclusion of major historic parties and groups— particularly those in the opposition — from political competition.

The 2019 constitutional amendment and the subsequent changes to the electoral code introduced a second structuring mechanism: the endorsement system for presidential candidates.

Today, to run for president (now as a president and vice-president ticket) candidates must secure a minimum number of endorsements from local elected officials and/or MPs. The threshold, initially, set at 10% (16 endorsements) was raised to 15% in 2024, (28 endorsements), making it harder to enter the race.

Since the parties close to the president dominate Parliament and local governments, they control these endorsements and hold the keys to entry. Officially justified as a way to filter out less credible candidates, this mechanism has been criticized for limiting political inclusiveness. The opposition struggles to secure the required endorsements.

Overall these reforms have significantly changed the competition for the presidency. The lopsided two-party system combined with pre-filtering via endorsements has tilted the playing field in favour of the presidential bloc. This has been further strengthened by the defections from influential opposition figures.

As a result of these massive defections, the election on April 12 comes down to just two presidential tickets: the majority’s ticket and the one put forward by the president of Force Cauris pour un Bénin émergent (Cowry forces for an Emerging Benin ), a moderate opposition party with limited resources.

To what extent could voter turnout influence the legitimacy and outcome of the election?

The upcoming presidential election comes at a unique socio-political moment given the dynamics observed in Benin since 1990. Traditionally, the end of a term brings redistribution of political power, without necessarily predicting the final outcome.

But today, the electoral game appears more tightly controlled and less open, making the outcome more predictable. With the political field narrowed to two pairs of candidates, and without the participation of the main opposition party, Les Démocrates, the presidential race seems to be perceived by a big chunk of voters as flawed. This perception is likely to influence voters’ attitudes.

Voter turnout becomes a key issue. Turnout dropped to 26.47% for the presdiential election in 2021 and 27.12% for the legislative elections in 2019 compared to 65.92% for the 2015 legislative elections.

A further drop in voter turnout could erode the elected president’s legitimacy, regardless of legal validation. It may spark symbolic forms of protest (expressed through discourse and position, but not collective action like marches or riots).

With such limited real competition, the election’s results are quite predictable. Turnout will serve as an indicator of how much trust citizens still place in their electoral process. This situation could strengthen the incumbent government institutionally. But it may also deepen civic disengagement.

Is voter choice primarily driven by the goverment’s track record?

Talon’s term of office has had mixed reviews. The regime has both critics and supporters. Some observers believe that a large portion of the population views its actions favourably, particularly in economic terms. This suggests that its track record will objectively play a role in the 12 April elections. In this context, it could help to consolidate a loyal electorate, particularly among social groups that have benefited from the reforms or view them favourably.

Those who see Talon’s term as a failure face a harder choice due to lack of real alternatives. Talon’s record exists. It influences some voters. But it does not define the election. The limited political offer, controlled by the outgoing government restricts voter options way before the election.

At the same time, civic disengagement is growing. [Recent data] show declining citizen’s participation. Low turnout becomes a form of political act. It reduces the weight of the government’s track record in the voting decision. This reflects competing logics: institutional constraints that limit choices, plus low turnout driven by distrust.

Ultimately, the outgoing administration’s track appears to be a secondary factor in this election. Interesting, Patrice Talon hinted at this in 2016 during the presidential runoff debate:

What ensures a president’s effective reelection — what guarantees re-election — is not their performance, nor their results. It’s how he controls the key players. How he keeps everyone in line. How he ensures no one is capable of standing up to him, of being a real competitor. When you have no competitor, however bad you may be, you will be re-elected.

What indicators should be watched on election night?

Despite its unique characteristics, turnout will be a key indicator. Turnout in the regional strongholds of candidates and key opposition figures, as well as in strategic urban centers (Cotonou, Porto-Novo, Parakou, Abomey-Calavi) will provide early signs of how the vote is going.

But beyond than the election’s outcome, turnout will mainly reflect the legitimacy of Patrice Talon’s power, his electoral reforms, the current election and the result that will follow.

This may be one of the key factors in understanding how citizens and the political class relate to the next president, and broadly, how they relate to politics itself in the years ahead.

– How reforms under Patrice Talon have reshaped the electoral competition in Benin
– https://theconversation.com/how-reforms-under-patrice-talon-have-reshaped-the-electoral-competition-in-benin-280333

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Julien Benoit, Associate professor in Vertebrate Palaeontology, University of the Witwatersrand

Between 280 and 200 million years ago, a group of animals evolved which would eventually give rise to mammals, including humans: the therapsids. They were first described more than 150 years ago, based on fossils from South Africa. Since then, many more fossils have been discovered.

James Kitching, one of the most talented South African fossil hunters of the 20th century, excavated many thousands of therapsids from the rocks of the Karoo (a semi-arid region of the country’s interior). He also found fossilised dinosaur eggs, but neither he nor any palaeontologist after him ever found therapsid eggs.

They should exist, because some mammals (platypus and echidnas) do lay eggs. But Kitching began to doubt that therapsids laid eggs: perhaps, he thought, they were, like most of their mammalian descendants, already viviparous (giving live birth)?

We are scientists who study extinct animals and the environments they lived in millions of years ago to understand more about the evolution of life. In our new paper we describe, for the first time, the embryo-containing fossilised egg of a 250 million-year-old mammalian ancestor.

It finally shows that therapsids were indeed egg-laying (oviparous). This discovery sheds new light on the reproduction and survival strategy of that group of animals.

A 20-year-old mystery

The fossil egg and embryo we described was discovered near Oviston, in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa, by John Nyaphuli, a palaeontologist from Bloemfontein, in 2008. It’s been kept in the National Museum in Bloemfontein. We knew that it belonged to a species that lived 252 million to 250 million years ago called Lystrosaurus, but we didn’t know whether the species was an egg-layer. The adult looked like a pig, with naked skin, a beak like a turtle, and two tusks sticking out and pointing down.

The reason it took 20 years to prove that it had been in an egg is that this fossil preserves no shell. Only a curled-up embryo is visible. If there was a shell, it was likely leathery or had dissolved. Only the most advanced dinosaurs laid hard-shelled eggs.

So how could we find out whether this young creature had once been inside an egg?

The answer to this question lay in the advanced technology of the European Synchrotron Radiation Facility at Grenoble, France. There, we used a powerful X-ray source to image the inside of the bones of the embryo. Under this treatment, the fossil unveiled all its long-kept secrets – most crucially, its stage of development.

We discovered that the lower jaws of its beak were not completely fused. This developmental trait is only found in modern turtles and birds in which jaw bones fuse long before they are born so that their beak is strong enough for the hatchling to catch and crush its food.

This meant that our curled up Lystrosaurus embryo had died in ovo (in an egg), tightly nestled in its soft, leathery eggshell. This was the evidence palaeontologists had been looking for.

Thanks to the synchrotron-assisted examination of its lower jaw, we could finally demonstrate that this embryo was indeed that of an unhatched Lystrosaurus baby.

Famous survivor

What does it unravel about the survival strategy of Lystrosaurus?

Lystrosaurus is a herbivorous (plant-eating) therapsid famous for surviving the “Great Dying”, which was a major mass extinction of species 252 million years ago. During this event, 90% of all living things on Earth died. Life almost ceased to exist, which makes this the second most important event in the history of life on Earth after the origin of life itself.

How Lystrosaurus survived this is still an intriguing mystery, but the egg gives a possible clue. The fossil we describe shows that the animal laid arguably large eggs for its body size. Large eggs are produced by species that feed their embryos with yolk rather than milk. The young develop to an advanced stage in the egg and then they hatch. In contrast, monotremes (the platypus and echidnas), which feed milk to their young, lay small eggs because the baby is fed after hatching. The large size of its egg implies that Lystrosaurus did not feed milk to its young.

---

Read more: A secret mathematical rule has shaped the beaks of birds and other dinosaurs for 200 million years

---

More relevant to its survival strategy, this further indicates two things. Firstly, it means that the egg was less prone to desiccation (drying out). The larger the egg, the smaller its surface area (comparatively speaking), so Lystrosaurus eggs would lose less water through their leathery shell than those of other species of that time. Given the dry environment during and in the immediate aftermath of the extinction, this was a significant advantage, especially since hard-shelled eggs would not evolve for another 50 million years, at least.

Secondly, a large egg implies that Lystrosaurus was likely precocial, meaning that the babies likely hatched at an advanced stage of their development. Lystrosaurus hatchlings were big enough to feed by themselves and run away from predators, and would reach maturity faster so they could reproduce early.

---

Read more: How predators may have shaped the way some southern African lizards survive and reproduce

---

Growing up fast, reproducing young and proliferating were the secrets of Lystrosaurus survival.

Our ability to identify the fossil egg adds to our understanding of the origin of mammalian reproductive biology and lactation, and the survival strategy of Lystrosaurus in the most devastating biological crisis. This is significant to better grasp how modern species might cope with the current sixth mass extinction of species.

– Embryo fossil found in South Africa is world’s oldest proof that mammal ancestors laid eggs
– https://theconversation.com/embryo-fossil-found-in-south-africa-is-worlds-oldest-proof-that-mammal-ancestors-laid-eggs-277673

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Stan Chu Ilo, Research Professor, World Christianity and African Studies, DePaul University

Pope Leo’s decision to make Africa one of the early destinations of his young papacy signals the continent’s importance in global Catholicism. His April 2026 visit reflects both his personal ties to Africa and the rapid rise of Christianity across the continent.

His 10-day itinerary to Algeria, Angola, Cameroon and Equatorial Guinea is also historically significant. In Algeria, for instance, Pope Leo will walk in the footsteps of Augustine of Hippo (who lived around the year 400), his spiritual father, highlighting the African roots of Christianity.

But when the pope announced his Africa trip in February 2026, few could have anticipated how rapidly the global security landscape would deteriorate. There is a real risk that ongoing global crises, such as the conflict in Iran, will dominate attention, overshadowing both the significance of Pope Leo’s visit and the persistent, often overlooked, conflicts across Africa.

The last papal visit to Africa – by his predecessor, Pope Francis, in 2023 to the Democratic Republic of Congo and South Sudan – was similarly intended to draw attention to Africa’s enduring wars. Vast refugee settlements across the continent stand as stark reminders of lives suspended in uncertainty and suffering.

I am an African theologian and my work examines how contemporary Catholicism is changing. My research goes beyond tracking the demographics of Christian expansion. It asks how Christian communities, rooted in diverse cultures, are transforming societies and cultures in line with the Gospel.

By choosing to visit Africa now, Pope Leo is making a clear statement: Africa matters. The Catholic church on the continent can seize this moment to build more equal, non-patronising partnerships with churches in the global north, where membership is declining.

Christianity’s African roots

Christianity is not a recent import to Africa brought by European missionaries. The continent has long provided deep cultural, spiritual and theological roots for Christianity. This includes Joseph and Mary’s flight into Egypt when the life of Jesus was threatened by Herod after his birth, and the catechetical school of Alexandria, the world’s oldest centre of Christian higher learning.

Pope Leo’s visit offers a powerful historical reminder of the continent’s foundational role in shaping the church, particularly in its first five centuries.

Additionally, Africa is home to the fastest-growing Catholic population, now estimated at 280 million Catholics, or 19.8% of the world’s Catholic population. In 2025 alone, the African Catholic church had 8.3 million new members.

Africa contributes significantly to the church’s global human capital. Nigeria, South Africa and the Democratic Republic of Congo are among the top 10 “sending nations” in the missionary exchange from the global south to the global north.

---

Read more: Pope Leo XIV is the first member of the Order of St. Augustine to be elected pope – but who are the Augustinians?

---

Pope Paul VI was the first modern pope to visit Africa, in 1969. He said the time had come for Africa to have “an African Christianity”.

Many African Catholics see this speech as an invitation to Africans to take responsibility for making Christianity truly Catholic and truly African.

Pope John Paul II later, in 1995, affirmed that the “hour of Africa” had come. Pope Benedict XVI, during his 2009 visit to Africa, described the continent as a “spiritual lung” for a world in crisis.

These expressions signal a shared conviction: the church in Africa has come of age and stands as a major spiritual force in the contemporary expansion of global Christianity.

Some challenges persist

Pope Leo is no stranger to the continent. He visited several African countries during his two terms as the global head of the Order of St Augustine, headquartered in Rome.

However, he will encounter a persistent and troubling paradox that marks both the church and wider society. The rapid growth of Christianity has not consistently translated into better lives for people. If the church is to remain relevant, it must more convincingly embody the Gospel’s transformative power within the lived realities of African societies.

It needs to address the fluid religious imagination of many African Christians who easily migrate from mainline Christian groups like Catholicism to Pentecostalism and African traditional religion. This means the Catholic church needs a moment of self-introspection to ask if it is really meeting the people at their points of need. Is it a church that bears the narratives and wounds of the people?

Without addressing the deeper crisis of faith and the battle for survival in Africa by so many believers walking in poverty, the church risks becoming a provider of charitable services. It could instead be a force for deeper social transformation, religious and moral conversion, and spiritual renewal.

---

Read more: Is Pope Leo XIV liberal or conservative? Why these labels don’t work for popes

---

Pope Leo’s visit also unfolds within politically sensitive contexts.

In Cameroon, the long-running conflict in Anglophone regions and President Paul Biya’s long rule have raised concerns. A papal visit could be interpreted as legitimising power structures that many see as repressive. Biya’s decades in power have been associated with electoral manipulation, repression of dissent and state capture.

Similar tensions exist in Equatorial Guinea. President Teodoro Obiang has been in power for 47 years. His rule has been marked by the suppression of the opposition in an oil-rich yet deeply unequal nation.

The image of two long-serving rulers standing with Pope Leo will be striking. It will raise questions. But it will also create an opportunity for the pope to speak some hard truths to leaders who are destroying Africa.

By contrast, Angola offers a more hopeful narrative of post-conflict recovery. It demonstrates how collaboration between the church, state and civil society can yield gradual but meaningful progress.

Africa and the future of a listening church

For all that was said about Pope Francis’ love for Africa, it remains striking that, by his death in April 2025, no African cardinal headed a dicastery (a ministry-level department of the central administration of the Catholic church in Rome).

Africans accounted for barely 12% of the College of Cardinals. Its members are the closest advisors of the pope and choose new popes.

Pope Leo has already begun to address this imbalance in key commissions and administrative structures by appointing Africans to positions of real influence.

One of the most notable traits attributed to him is his capacity to listen. In my view, this listening must confront three interrelated realities if the church in Africa is to become a credible agent of transformation.

Dependency: Parishes and pastoral programmes in Africa still depend on financial support from Europe and North America. This is a major obstacle to the emergence of a mature and self-sustaining African Christianity. The church risks reproducing asymmetrical power dynamics that weaken human agency and pastoral creativity.

Decolonisation: Inherited church structures and theological frameworks should be interrogated. Without this, the church won’t be rooted in the lived experiences and realities of African peoples.

Leadership: The crisis of leadership in Africa is mirrored within the church. What is needed is a transformational, humble and servant leadership grounded in accountability, transparency and shared responsibility. This means greater inclusion of the voices and assets of the laity, especially of women.

Pope Leo’s visit is a key moment for the Catholic Church in Africa. Will it remain a recipient of global Catholicism or help shape its future?

– Pope Leo’s visit to Africa: theology scholar outlines 3 realities the Catholic church must face
– https://theconversation.com/pope-leos-visit-to-africa-theology-scholar-outlines-3-realities-the-catholic-church-must-face-280069

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Breyten Van der Merwe, PhD student, Stellenbosch University

“Magic mushrooms” are consumed recreationally and for medicinal purposes around the world. These fungi gained their fame as “magic” because they produce chemical compounds (called psilocybin and psilocin) which have psychedelic effects.

The most famous species of these mushrooms, due to their global distribution and ease of cultivation, is Psilocybe cubensis, known primarily from its preferred habitat of dung-laden fields. It was first described from Cuba, but is found throughout the world.

However, there has been a long-standing question about its evolutionary history. Where did it originate, and how did it move around the globe?

We described a new species of magic mushroom in South Africa and Zimbabwe, now named Psilocybe ochraceocentrata, which has allowed us to investigate this question.

Our disciplines are mycology (the study of fungi) and evolutionary biology. In a recent paper, we report on what P. ochraceocentrata may tell us about the possible wild origins of Psilocybe cubensis.

Our findings used sophisticated methods to test whether P. cubensis could have arrived in the Americas along with European colonisation and cattle, a long standing hypothesis proposed by the Mexican mycologist and ethnomycologist Gastón Guzmán. We also investigated other possible scenarios, such as dispersal by environmental factors like wind, or ancient biological means such as large herbivore or insect migration.

Before this study, P. ochraceocentrata was already regularly collected. But it was assumed either to be P. cubensis or P. natalensis, sold under the name “Natal Super Strength”.

We have created a framework of unambiguous identification. Ultimately, our work does not fully resolve the evolutionary history question. But it provides a guide for future study to fully understand where these fungi evolved and how they may have travelled the world.

Knowing the origin of a species is important as it explains how historical, geological and climate factors shape the current distribution of life on Earth. This can be important for understanding how some traits evolved in response to their environment, where a species may become invasive, or possibly where to look for closely related species with traits of interest for medicinal research.

How was the study performed?

Fieldwork conducted over decades in Zimbabwe by researcher Cathy Sharp, and further observations in South Africa, yielded multiple collections of mushrooms similar to P. cubensis. All were associated with the dung of herbivores, including animals native to Africa. Some Psilocybe mushrooms use dung as a food source.

Our work showed that these “cubensis look-a-likes” were superficially similar but differed microscopically and at a molecular level. We chose to investigate this relationship further. Our approach involved:

• field collection – studying specimens from the wild

• genomics of museum specimens (museomics) – using molecular techniques on historically important specimens

• phylogenetics – using genetic data to reconstruct how species are related through common ancestry

• molecular dating – estimating a general time frame when two species may have diverged from one another

• ecological niche modelling – predicting where a species can live based on environmental conditions.

This allowed us to study the natural history of P. cubensis and its close relative Psilocybe ochraceocentrata.

We found that P. ochraceocentrata and P. cubensis may have had a common ancestor living about 1.56 million years ago.

This corresponds with the global expansion of grasslands and the distribution of grazing herbivores. The world at this time would have been populated with migrating herbivores. Coprophilic fungi (fungi that grow on animal dung) could have moved with them globally, and then begun to evolve along independent paths.

Origin story

To complement our taxonomic and dating investigations, we wanted to see if we could find a plausible origin of P. cubensis. In previous studies, the lead author had identified that the closest relatives of P. cubensis all had native distributions across the Asian continent. There was very little overlap with species from the Americas.

With the addition of P. ochraceocentrata as the sister taxon (the closest relative), it became far more reasonable to suggest its evolutionary history is centred in Africa or Asia, not the Americas.

To test this, we used publicly available data from the popular public “citizen science” repository for biodiversity monitoring, iNaturalist. We then used mathematical modelling to hypothesise where these organisms might have occurred hundreds of thousands to millions of years ago.

Our work showed a lot of variability across time but partially favoured tropical and subtropical regions where large animals roamed. From this, we proposed a few scenarios of how P. cubensis split from the ancestor it shared with P. ochraceocentrata and became globally dispersed.

One theory is a natural disturbance via unknown animal or environmental vectors. In other words, something may have changed the environment and disrupted the population. For example, dung beetles could have eaten dung that had fungal spores in it, and could have crossed the ocean, taking the fungus with them. Or the spores may have been carried across the ocean on the wind. This is known to have happened with other fungi, such as Podospora.

Another possibility is migration via the Bering land bridge between Eurasia and the Americas. This is how many plants and animals moved between the continents.

Guzmán proposed that P. cubensis likely originated in Africa and was transported to the Americas via cattle transport during the colonisation events of the 1400s and 1500s. Our work suggests that this route was also possible.

The most likely scenario would be multiple introductions, and spore dispersal between populations in the Americas to retain genetic diversity.

What’s missing

Africa is one of the most biodiverse continents, and yet it is the most under-sampled for fungal diversity, due in part to a historical sampling bias of fungi from other parts of the world.

When it comes to Psilocybe, fewer than ten species are officially described from the African continent. Worldwide about 165 species are known.

Further studies are needed across the continent, to describe and map local fungal diversity and improve on current knowledge. Knowing more about the mushrooms that occur in a region tells us more about the ecology of the area, which is key to conservation efforts.

Natural history museums and herbariums were critical for this work and serve as an immeasurable biodiversity resource representing hundreds of years of scientific effort that both scientists and the general public can access.

– Magic mushrooms: new African species sheds light on the history of the famous fungus
– https://theconversation.com/magic-mushrooms-new-african-species-sheds-light-on-the-history-of-the-famous-fungus-279007

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Abeer Elshater, Professor of Urban Morphology, Ain Shams University

Cities are often described as living archives of human memory. Walk through an old neighbourhood in an Islamic city like Fez in Morocco or Cairo in Egypt, and you can see layers of history in its streets and buildings. Traces of the past remain visible in everyday life.

Urban historians sometimes call this a palimpsest – a place where layers of history remain visible, like old writing faintly showing beneath new text.

But in many parts of the world today, cities are being transformed so rapidly that these historical layers are disappearing. Entire neighbourhoods and older areas are demolished and replaced with new districts, infrastructure corridors, or megaprojects. It’s a process that might remind one of French civil servant Georges-Eugène Haussmann’s dramatic demolition and reshaping of Paris in the 1800s.

Today’s speed and scale of development challenge the idea that cities grow slowly over time. Building places from scratch is often described as tabula rasa – a “blank slate” approach in which everything is cleared away and rebuilt as if nothing had existed before.

As scholars of architecture and urban design, we recently researched this tension between erasure and memory in urban design. We argue that urban transformation today cannot be understood simply as a choice between preserving the past or starting anew. Instead, cities are increasingly shaped by a complex interaction between the two.

Understanding this tension matters because it influences not only the identity and heritage of a city but also the social and cultural lives of the people who inhabit it. Our argument is grounded in the importance of understanding history to guide future development based on solutions that have been tested successfully in the past.

The myth of the blank slate

For centuries, planners and philosophers have been fascinated by the idea of the tabula rasa. In practice, however, urban space is never truly empty.

Even after buildings are demolished, the forces shaping the city remain: economic pressures, planning regulations, infrastructure networks, and political agendas. Clearing land often produces what French social theorist Henri Lefebvre described as “abstract space”. These are spaces designed mainly for efficiency, profit, or control – rather than for people’s memories or everyday life.

Modern urban renewal projects have often replaced historic districts with standardised environments such as large housing estates, business districts, or transport infrastructures. These environments can feel disconnected from local identity because the historical context that once gave the place meaning has been removed.

For example, Pruitt‑Igoe in St Louis in the US replaced dense, mixed-use neighbourhoods with high-rise public housing that ignored existing street patterns and community life. In Beirut in Lebanon, post-war reconstruction of the city centre prioritised modern commercial developments over the urban fabric and social networks that had defined it for decades.

French anthropologist Marc Augé described many of these environments as “non-places”: spaces of transit and consumption, such as airports, highways, and anonymous commercial zones. People pass through without forming lasting attachments.

Cities as layered memory

At the opposite end of the spectrum lies the idea of cities as palimpsest. Historic districts, archaeological remains, street patterns, and even place names all contribute to a layered memory. Urban designers often create designs that draw from the history of a site.

But the palimpsest approach also has limits. Preserving historical layers does not necessarily guarantee meaningful engagement with the past. Sometimes heritage becomes a form of nostalgia –replicating historical styles without understanding their social or cultural significance.

French philosopher Paul Ricoeur helps clarify this by distinguishing between two types of memory: repetition memory and reconstruction memory.

Repetition memory reproduces the past, often superficially. In Sydney, efforts to revitalise Indigenous neighbourhoods between 2005 and 2019 ended up repeating patterns of colonial land displacement.

Meanwhile, in Rio de Janeiro, the push to redevelop the waterfront for the 2014 Football World Cup and 2016 Olympics wiped out Afro-Brazilian cultural heritage. It replaced it with a sleek, futuristic vision of a global city.

More broadly, across cities in Africa, Asia and Latin America, speculative real-estate projects and investment-driven urban developments have turned land into a commodity. This has fuelled gentrification and pushed local communities to the margins.

Reconstruction memory, by contrast, uses fragments of the past to interpret and reinvent them for the present. For example, in Warsaw in Poland after the second world war, the Old Town was rebuilt. Not as an exact replica but as a carefully interpreted reconstruction, using historical paintings, archaeological evidence, and surviving fragments to evoke the city’s pre-war character. At the same time it accommodated modern needs.

Similarly, Hiroshima’s post-1945 reconstruction preserved certain ruins, such as the Genbaku Dome, while redesigning the surrounding urban fabric to create a memorial landscape. This both honours the past and supports a functional, modern city.

Moving beyond preservation vs demolition

Rather than choosing between total preservation and total erasure, urban design needs to recognise the dynamic relationship between memory and transformation.

We propose thinking about cities through what philosophers call a negative dialectic – a relationship in which two opposing forces, erasure and memory, continually reshape one another. We argue that:

• Urban clearance does not create a neutral blank slate. It produces new forms of space shaped by political and economic power.

• Historical memory is not a fixed archive. It is continually reconstructed through interpretation and design.

Understanding cities in this way opens the door to new design strategies. Instead of replicating historical forms or ignoring them entirely, designers can work with fragments, traces, and spatial relationships to generate new urban forms.

For example, in the historic centre of Lugano, Switzerland, the traditional public markets that take place on medieval streets and lake‑edge promenades have long shaped the city’s social life and spatial patterns. Today, these markets interact with contemporary cafés, restaurants and pedestrian routes. They knit together old street networks and new uses in a living urban tapestry rather than freezing them as static heritage relics.

This kind of layering, where everyday activities and historical paths inform modern public space design, shows how urban form can evolve by reintegrating historical traces into present-day life. But urban transformation today is largely driven by rapid development, erasure, and less visible forces.

This makes it essential to rethink how memory, preservation and design methods work together. It requires a shift in design practice away from established paradigms and toward more flexible, context-sensitive strategies.

Designers have tools to respond to rapidly changing urban environments in ways that remain meaningful to communities. These tools include cognitive mapping, which visualises how people perceive and move through a city; layered analysis, which examines overlapping aspects of urban life; and network thinking, which conceptualises cities as interconnected systems.

Designing cities in a rapidly changing world

The future of cities will likely involve even more rapid transformation. Urban sprawl, technological change, and shifting economic systems are already reshaping urban environments, challenging established planning models. For urban designers, this means learning to work in situations where historical precedents are incomplete or unstable.

Cities react to destruction and change in very different ways. Some take a tabula rasa approach. They wipe out communities and rebuilding from scratch, sometimes referencing the past in form or style. This happened in Warsaw’s Old Town. It was rebuilt to look like the prewar city, even though the original residents were gone. Brasília in Brazil, meanwhile, was planned entirely from scratch, clearing old settlements to create a modernist vision.

Others take a more layered, incremental approach, working with what’s already there and letting communities adapt over time.

In Harare’s Dzivarasekwa Extension, for instance, informal settlements were gradually formalised. Housing, services and land tenure were improved, but streets and social networks were preserved. Some cities mix both strategies, like Hiroshima did.

The challenge today is to design urban spaces that acknowledge history while remaining open to new possibilities. For us, the city is neither a blank slate nor a finished story but constantly rewritten through memory and change.

– Designing cities: should we build from scratch or keep history alive?
– https://theconversation.com/designing-cities-should-we-build-from-scratch-or-keep-history-alive-280071