The concept of belief, when applied in its strong sense, assumes an inner state that sets believers apart from non-believers. This article suggests that a concept of trust is more appropriate for the study of the religious orientation among Pentecostal Christians in Chinsapo, an impoverished township in Malawi's capital city. Trust is a critical issue because even fellow members of Pentecostal congregations can turn out to have been sent by the Devil. Pastors also have to exercise considerable forbearance in order to encourage spiritual growth among backsliders. The boundaries of Pentecostal congregations are often permeable, with little emphasis on doctrinal differences. Pentecostal Christians also have frequent contact with kin, neighbours, customers and co-workers who do not share their religious orientation. Rather than being a matter of calculating risks, trust emerges in relation to the existential dangers of misfortune, hunger and disease that affect the lives of all township dwellers. Everyday contexts of township life are as important as proselytizing in generating trust between Pentecostals and those who are yet to experience the second birth in the Holy Spirit. In contrast to views that lament Africans’ particularized trust relations as an obstacle to democracy, this article suggests that generalized trust can emerge from a particular religious orientation. The article draws attention to the actual sources of civility and trust in contemporary Africa.

In the face of restrictive migration policies, migration brokers in emigration countries sell services that are meant to facilitate departure projects. Not all aspiring migrants who give money to migration brokers are able to travel. This article asks how aspiring migrants in Anglophone Cameroon understand and deal with the potential for deceit by migration brokers. The analysis is based on sixteen months of fieldwork conducted between 2007 and 2013, predominantly in the town of Buea. By studying the social effects of European migration management through the lens of norms and values in a place of departure, the article argues that migration brokers cannot be understood exclusively as actors who are instrumental for the realization of migration trajectories. In a context where European migration management frustrates aspirations for global citizenship, migration brokers are also dealers in hopes for global belonging. Relations of trust between brokers and aspiring migrants are articulated through local terms such as ‘dokimen’, ‘feymen’ and ‘big men’. The article's two case studies examine relations between migration brokers and aspiring migrants within a broad social framework that includes family dynamics, as well as with a temporal perspective that stretches beyond the initial moment of failed departure.

As the political and economic crisis in Zimbabwe worsened between 2000 and 2003, the state embarked on an intense propaganda campaign. Facing an increasingly popular opposition, the state adopted a two-pronged strategy of marketing its programmes while subjecting the opposition to violence and negative publicity. Using various media, the propagandists sought to portray the ruling party (ZANU-PF) as a sacred movement fulfilling prophetic oracles that the black majority would reclaim the lost land. State functionaries systematically appropriated religious ideas, with concepts from Christianity and African traditional religions being used to buttress political statements. The controversial land reform programme was couched in religious terms and notions like sovereignty attained mythical proportions. This article examines the appropriation of religious themes in political propaganda in Zimbabwe. It analyses the communication environment in the country and how it facilitated the interface between religious and political discourses.

One of the most obvious social situations in the middle Benue Valley is the expansion in all directions of the Tiv, who number some 800,000 and are the largest pagan tribe in Northern Nigeria. One of the most puzzling aspects of Tiv expansion has been that, although it is obviously connected in many areas with land shortage and accompanying economic factors, it is precisely in those areas in which land shortage is least severe that the rate of migration appears to be most rapid.

Centrifugal expansion is intimately associated with the social and political structure of the Tiv people—is, in fact, a facet of it. In order to analyse this association, and incidentally to explain the paradox of the rate of expansion, it is necessary to divide the movement into two sorts: expansion and disjunction. Expansion refers to that type of movement which leads to the enlargement in area of a lineage's territory. It may eventually lead to a change in geographical location of the lineage territory; it does not affect the over-all juxtaposition of lineage areas. Disjunction, on the other hand, characteristically brings about a separation of groups in space and affects not only the geographical position of a lineage territory, but also the juxtaposition of lineage territories.

The first section of this article will set forth briefly the relationship between movements of lineages, territorial organization, and the structure of political lineages. The second section will examine expansion; the third, disjunction. The fourth will show that the two types of migration are both present in all parts of the country, and that it is the primacy of one or the other which gives rise to an apparent difference in rate of migration.

On 14 October 1999, Julius Kambarage Nyerere, the first president of the United Republic of Tanzania, died in a London hospital. In Tanzania, musical bands throughout the country reacted to the news by composing scores of lamentation songs (nyimbo za maombolezo) that mourned his passing and assessed his contributions to the country he helped to create. While elsewhere in the world Nyerere is affiliated with the ‘African socialist’ platform termed Ujamaa that he theorized in his political writings and instituted during his tenure as president, these lamentation songs are notably silent on the topic of socialism. This silence indicates the ambiguity with which Tanzanians today relate to their socialist past. As a necessary prelude to analysis of the nyimbo za maombolezo, this article explores the practices, policies and values promoted in Tanzanian socialisms (mainland and Zanzibar) and in the postsocialist present. Competing rhetorics are revealed in these musical constructions of the ‘Father of the Nation’ and, by extension, the Tanzanian nation itself.

As the title of this paper suggests, the movement described in it is not the first of its kind to have been recorded in Central Africa. About fourteen years ago Dr. Audrey I. Richards reported on a witchfinding movement associated with the Nyanja word mcape. (Local variations include mcapi, mucapi, &c.—referring to the medicine—and the Bemba called the medicine-vendors the Bamucapi.)

The Kalabari people live in twenty-two villages and three small towns in the tidal mangrove swamps of the eastern Niger Delta. Linguistically, they are part of the great bloc of Ijo-speaking peoples who fill the Delta; but they form a distinct subgroup both in dialect and in culture. The traditional economy of most of these communities is based on fishing, with surplus fish exported to the hinterland markets and vegetables brought down on the return trip. Over a long period, contact with the hinterland markets seems to have been more frequent than contact between any one village and its Kalabari neighbours; and as a result of this isolation, each village tended to develop certain distinctive variants of fishing technique and of culture generally. Although the general economic pattern was one of fishing, one community with a fortunate geographical position at the mouth of the Rio Real abandoned this occupation about 400 years ago for trade with European merchants, first in slaves and later in palm-oil brought down from the hinterland. Today, however, this trade has collapsed; and the descendants of those who developed it have largely returned to fishing and fish-trading.

Increasingly, the poor are to be found in the urban areas of developing countries. Many urban households, not only the very poor, face economic insecurity and deprivation. Despite the steady growth of low-income groups in the urban areas of Africa, the mechanisms for coping with urban poverty were not studied to any great extent until the end of the 1980s. Most research into the strategies developed by households to cope with poverty had centred on the rural household. This article focuses on the inhabitants of the town of Mopti, situated in the Sahelian zone of Mali on the border of the inland delta of the river Niger. It deals with the subsistence strategies of different types of urban households and their adjustments to uncertain and deteriorating economic circumstances. In analysing these coping mechanisms account is taken of the various factors affecting households' ability to cope with reduced earnings or lack of income, such as their socio-economic position, migration status, composition and size, and ethnic background. A pertinent question in the analysis is whether urban households, in deteriorating circumstances, diversify their sources of income or specialise in one activity.

The article addresses African and Indian newspaper networks in Kenya in the late 1940s in an Indian Ocean perspective. Newspapers were important parts of a printing culture that was sustained by Indian and African nationalist politics and economic enterprise. In this period new intermediary groups of African and Indian entrepreneurs, activists and publicists, collaborating around newspaper production, captured fairly large and significant non-European audiences (some papers had print runs of around ten thousand) and engaged them in new ways, incorporating their aspirations, writings and points of view in newspapers. They depended on voluntary and political associations and anti-colonial struggles in Kenya and on links to nationalists in India and the passive resistance movement in South Africa. They sidestepped the European-dominated print culture and created an anti-colonial counter-voice. Editors insisted on the right to write freely and be heard, and traditions of freedom of speech put a brake on censorship. Furthermore, the shifting networks of financial, editorial and journalistic collaboration, and the newspapers’ language choice – African vernaculars, Gujarati, Swahili and English – made intervention difficult for the authorities. With time, the politics and ideologies sustaining the newspapers pulled in different directions, with African nationalism gaining the upper hand among the forces that shaped the future independent Kenyan nation.

The trial of Thomas Kwoyelo – the first war crimes prosecution of a former Lord's Resistance Army fighter, and the only domestic war crimes prosecution in Uganda at the time of writing – has been packed with drama, intrigue and politics. The article considers what Kwoyelo's trial means for those most affected by the crimes he allegedly committed, and, more broadly, what it means for the ‘transitional justice’ project in Uganda. The article is concerned primarily with how the trial has been interpreted ‘on the ground’ in Acholiland: by local leadership; by those with a personal relationship to Kwoyelo; by direct victims of his alleged crimes; and by those who were not. Responses to the trial have been shaped by people's specific wartime experiences and if or how his prosecution relates to their current circumstances – as well as by the profound value of social harmony and distrust of higher authorities to dispense justice. We conclude with a discussion of the relevance of our findings for the practice of ‘transitional justice’ across the African continent.

In ethnological accounts the dance is usually given a place quite unworthy of its social importance. It is often viewed as an independent activity and is described without reference to its contextual setting in native life. Such treatment leaves out many problems as to composition and organization of the dance and hides from view its sociological function.

This article presents two themes: how young professionals personally experience sexuality and issues of cultural belonging or identification; and how these issues are interrelated in their lives. I identify ways in which ‘young professionals’ as a social group are in the vanguard in respect of societal reconfigurations of gender, sexuality and culture. I argue that this group embodies post-colonial transformations concerning reconfigurations in gender, sexuality and culture. I work out the complexities of sexuality and culture by focusing on public debates about African heritage, gerontocratic power relations and conventional morality, on the one hand, and personal sexual relationships, intimacy and self-definitions on the other. Finally, I explore how sexuality has become central to self-expression and how cultural self-identification is an ambiguous concern for young professionals.

Most people are vaguely aware that the characteristic feature of African music is its rhythms. Some would say with the late Professor Hornbostel of Berlin that ‘it is syncopated past comprehension’; others would claim that any competent Western musician could reproduce African rhythms. Does the truth lie with either of these views or does it lie somewhere between them ? It is time we knew what Africans really do: and it is the purpose of this paper to give some account of the bases of their musical practice.

In recent years scholars have shown considerable interest in the early use of photography by non-Western peoples. Research on nineteenth-century Indian, Japanese and Chinese photography has revealed a rich synthesis of European and Asian imagery. These early photographs show how non-Western peoples created new forms of artistic expression by adapting European technology and visual idioms for their own purposes. Because of the long history of contact between Sierra Leoneans and Europeans, Freetown seemed a logical starting point for similar photographic research in West Africa. The information presented here is based on ten years of searching for nineteenth-century photographs made by Sierra Leonean photographers. To locate these pictures, I have visited Freetonians and viewed their family portraits and photograph albums, interviewed contemporary photographers throughout Sierra Leone, and researched in the various colonial archives in England to locate photographs preserved from the period of colonial rule. I have discovered that a community of African photographers has worked in the city of Freetown since the very invention of photography. The article reviews the first phase of this unique photographic tradition, 1850–1918, and focuses on several of the African photographers who worked in Freetown during this period.

C'est dans la zone urbaine la plus importante de Malawi, Blantyre, ville de 400,000 habitants, que trente à quarante jeunes prêcheurs environ dirigent une quinzaine d'organisations constituant le mouvement ‘Regénération’ (‘Born Again’). Les organisations comprennent aussi bien les ‘saints ministères’ et les ‘confréries’ que les ‘églises’. Le mouvement a commencé vers 1974. Il est significatif que tous les dirigeants étaient à l'époque des adolescents; encore aujourd'hui, la deuxième ‘génération’ de prêcheurs comprend des adolescents ou des jeunes d'une vingtaine d'années. Leur message est dominé par un même thème: ils mènent une opposition véhémente contre les actions mêlées à des pratiques d'un caractère pour le moins mystérieux ou même malveillant, particulièrement la sorcellerie et la politique. Les jeunes prêcheurs présument que ces forces sont à la base du pouvoir exercé par les plus anciens dans les villages ou les communes urbaines. Pourtant, à Blantyre, où la surveillance politique sur la vie quotidienne est très forte, il leur faut rester très prudents en défiant la puissante génération precédente, s'ils veulent conserver ‘l'espace intellectuel’ qu'ils trouvent dans la religion. Enfin, dans sa conclusion, l'article soutient que les théories utilisées pour expliquer l'installation d'Eglises Sionistes en zones urbaines dans d'autres régions du sud de l'Afrique ne s'appliquent pas à l'analyse du mouvement ‘Regénération’, un mouvement dirigé avec succès par de jeunes citadins.

This article briefly discusses the various factors that gave rise to tension in northern Ghana between Fulbe pastoralists coming in from Burkina Faso and the local Kassena farmers (who have livestock of their own). The Ghanaian government's decision in 1988–89 to expel the Fulbe resulted in more problems, not least the dilemma of how to patrol effectively the permeable borderland and the gradual introduction there of modern firearms. In consequence some argue that it is not the policies of conservation that are being called into question but the government's sovereignty.

During my field study of Yoruba art (1955–7) little of the symbolic meaning of the forms and component elements of the ritual sculpture was revealed to me through straightforward answers to straightforward questions. Indeed, it soon became evident that if meaning with any degree of resonance was to be arrived at, such a technique had to be abandoned in favour of an interpretative analysis in relation to myths and praise songs on the one hand, and the observation of the use of sculpture in ritual on the other.

In the past anthropology was concerned with alien, exotic societies such as Indians, Africans, and Pacific Islanders. Today it is in vogue to do the anthropology of modern societies. Abroad this is termed the study of nation-building and development; at home it becomes the study of various sub-cultures with attention towards ethnic minorities and deviant groups rather than upon the more powerful and prominent segments of our society. Anthropologists tend to neglect those groups nearest themselves, and in the scurry to conduct relevant research, a broad area of great theoretical interest has been passed by. Almost no attention was ever paid by anthropologists to the study of colonial groups such as administrators, missionaries, or traders. Today we can read anthropological studies of the impact of such groups upon native populations, but the focus of such work dims with the colour line. Thus, an anthropologist has studied the machinations of the members of a Nigerian emirate but not the tactics of the British Resident and his staff. Another applied potted Weberian bureaucratic theory to Soga local government but neglected to discuss the British district officers in the same chiefdom. Another asked how Christian Tswana behaved, but not about those missionaries who had converted them. Anthropologists may have spoken about studying total societies, but they did not seem to consider their compatriots as subjects for wonder and analysis.* In the studies of Christianity in Africa, consideration was mainly in terms of the relations of the convert to his traditional society, to the process of social change, or sometimes to the development of native separatist churches. It never included the missionaries who had made the conversions or described everyday affairs at the mission station, clinic, or school.

Much has been written about the persistence of economic apartheid, inscribed in the geography of South Africa's cities, producing spatial configurations that are reminiscent of the old order of segregation while simultaneously embodying the particular inequities and divisions of the new neo-liberal order (Turok 2001; Harrison 2006). Through an ethnographic study of Rustenburg, the urban hub of South Africa's platinum belt (once labelled the ‘fastest growing city in Africa’ after Cairo), I explore how the failure of urban integration maps onto the failure of the promise of market inclusion. What is particular about mid-range towns such as Rustenburg is that the opportunities of ‘empowerment through enterprise’ are seen, or believed, to be all the more attainable than in large cities. Here the extended supply chains of the mining industry and the expanding secondary economy appear to offer limitless possibilities to share in the boons of the platinum boom. Yet as this account shows, the disjuncture and friction between corporate authority and local government have given rise to increasing fragmentation and exclusion, as only a very few are able to grasp the long-anticipated rewards of the new South African dream.

This article examines the role of male youth in the political history of Dar es Salaam. ‘Youth’, as a category of opposition to elders, became important during the inter-war period as it was inhabited by educated African bureaucrats aspiring to representation in urban politics over the traditional claims of authority by local ethnic Zaramo and Shomvi elders. This group of bureaucrats grew in power through the popularization of racial-nationalist politics, and in the 1950s formed the Tanganyika African Nationalist Party (TANU), which instituted its own category of ‘youth’ with the creation of the TANU Youth League (TYL). Consisting mainly of young, under-employed men who failed to obtain sufficient educational qualifications, the Youth League challenged the late colonial state's theoretical monopoly over violence through voluntary and aggressive policing activities. After the work of independence was complete, there was practical way to demobilize this enormous, semi-autonomous police and intelligence-gathering force. The repeated reassertion of party control over its Youth League took many forms in the decade after independence – through the creation of a National Service and the militarization of development; frequent nationalist events and rituals where Youth League members controlled public space; and a war on urban morality led by Youth League shock troops. Control over youth also offered a potentially autonomous patrimony for ambitious TANU party members. The 1970s witnessed the beginning of the general failure of both state and party to generate sufficient resources to serve as a patron to patron-seeking youth, which has effectively decentralized youth violence and vigilantism ever since. A political history of ‘youth’, both as a social category and political institution, can shed further light on contemporary dilemmas of youth violence, meanings of citizenship, and hidden motors of party politics.