This article examines how popular organizational strategies and coping mechanisms affect broader trajectories of urban governance in contemporary Africa. Does the proliferation of informal livelihood networks and associations foster economic empowerment and popular political participation, or do these informal processes breed poverty and organizational chaos? This article explores the link between popular organizational strategies and structural outcomes, focusing on how institutional process and power relations shape the access of the poor to resources and decision-making structures in decentralizing urban environments. Case studies from Nigeria trace how liberalization has fragmented informal organizational strategies into networks of accumulation and survival that tend to marginalize the interests of the poor within informal enterprise associations. Distinctive political strategies of informal enterprise associations are analyzed to show why dynamic informal organization is unable to break through the barriers of social and legal marginalization that trap the urban poor in cliental forms of political incorporation. This suggests that “social capital” within the informal economy may fail to improve popular political representation and governance outcomes even in contexts of decentralization.

There can be no reconciliation between Hutu and Tutsi without justice, and no justice without truth. This proposition holds true for all three states of former Belgian Africa. In Rwanda and Burundi, in particular, getting at the truth will remain problematic as long as the perpetrators of genocide readily cast themselves in the role of victims, and the victims, in turn, are seen as perpetrators by their enemies. Basic disagreements between Hutu and Tutsi about who committed genocide and why are traceable in part to the uncritical use of the term genocide to describe just about any type of ethnic violence, in part to the selective sifting of the evidence with a view to exonerating one group and condemning the other. Although Hutu and Tutsi are both guilty of genocide, the tendency to substitute collective guilt for individual culpability in the planning and execution of the killings can only result in distortion of the facts. There will be no peace in the Great Lakes region unless one takes seriously the task of shedding light on the circumstances, the scale and the consequences of the genocide of Hutu by Tutsi in Burundi (1972), of Tutsi and Hutu by Hutu in Rwanda (1994), and of Hutu by Tutsi in Congo (1996–1997).

In many parts of Africa, political liberalization seems to have given new impetus to the “politics of belonging,” leading to an obsession with “autochthony.” Thus the continuing relations of urban migrants with their home area tend to be reaffirmed. However, these relations, marked by an explosive mixture of intimacy and inequality, continue also to be a hotbed for witchcraft rumors. In this article we compare two different cases, from different parts of Cameroon, of witchcraft threats and efforts to contain them in the context of rural-urban relations. In both cases, the accusations are the same—they refer to a novel form of zombie witchcraft attributed to the nouveaux riches—but they are dealt with in a strikingly different manner. A Grassfields chief from the Northwest challenges the authority of the state by arresting three witchcraft suspects among his subjects in the faraway Southwest. In the segmentary societies of the southern forest area, urban elites appeal to the state for protection against vicious witchcraft accusations.

The increased importance of “belonging” and “autochthony” in national politics makes witchcraft more and more a public issue, triggering new efforts to contain it in which the new associations of urban elites play a central role. However, the effectiveness of such efforts remains doubtful: the increased importance of the relations between urban elites and the home area tends to reproduce witchcraft, which is, indeed, thriving on such an explosive mixture of intimacy and blatant inequality.

Recent experimentation by Nollywood producers has encouraged increasing differentiation of film practices as a strategy for contending with a demanding video market. “New Nollywood” refers to a select group of aesthetically sophisticated films intended for a new tiered distribution method, beginning with theatrical release and ending with DVD release. Nigeria’s upscale multiplex cinemas are therefore a starting point for examining what is new—and not so new—in Nollywood. This article argues that New Nollywood films and the cinemas in which they appear appeal directly to spectators’ senses by promising not only a movie and shopping, but also an affective experience closely bound up with global consumerism. The films exhibit a metropolitan vantage point that emphasizes subjects such as airline travel, trendy technology, consumer culture, global pop culture, lifestyle brands, high fashion, and luxury goods. These films advertise their “modernity,” which is not presented as a consolidated order of knowledge and values, but rather as an assemblage of signifiers of city life. Whereas mainstream Nollywood continues to produce strong narratives that resonate with its intended audience, New Nollywood—with its emphasis on images and style—is a direct expression of the cultural and economic forces shaping life in Lagos today.

…What excites me…is the presence of refugees amongst us who have arrived here straight from refugee camps. It strikes me as quite extraordinary that we should be hailing this as such an innovation. But innovation it is. I would hope that experts will never again have the effrontery to sit down together to discuss refugees without refugees being present, but I doubt it. Refugee work remains, perhaps, the last bastion of the ultra-paternalistic approach to aid and development. It is hard to think of another area where the blinkered nonsense of the “we know what's best for them” approach survives so unchallenged.

Mark Malloch-Brown, as quoted in Harrell-Bond and Karadawi (1984)

I believe that if you want political action, you must get governments together. Their deliberations will be the springboard for action. In my opinion, it is quite unrealistic to expect them to meet together with individual refugees (or groups representing refugees) and NGOs [non-governmental organizations]. Where the adoption of recommendations for political action is concerned, it does not work like that. Eagles don't consort with sparrows. It's a law of nature.

Anon.

…Thanks for your copy of the [above] letter. Eagles: birds of prey, prone to wander alone, high above the world of everyday events, remote, lofty and unadapted to human civilisation. Sparrows: friendly, sunny, engaged birds, spending time in social intercourse, feet on the ground, contributing to variety of life and human happiness.

Of the three “durable” solutions to refugee situations—voluntary repatriation, integration, and resettlement—the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) proclaims voluntary repatriation to be the most desirable.

To understand the grandness and emotion of Ghanaian funerals we need to look at the living rather than the deceased; we should think less of religion and more of politics, particularly the politics of reputation. The author takes the discrepancy between premortem and postmortem care as a starting point for his exploration of the meaning of funerals in a rural Akan community of Southern Ghana. The essay is based on conversations with elderly and younger people and on personal observations and attendance at funerals during anthropological fieldwork. Funerals are first and foremost occasions for the family to affirm its prestige and to celebrate its excellence. When thinking about their own funeral, the elderly are ambivalent. On the one hand, they criticize the overemphasis on funerals at the expense of proper care during their lives. On the other hand, they would certainly not want to turn the tables. For them, too, a poor funeral would be an unbearable disgrace.

Despite periodic violent conflict between farmers and Fulani herders in many parts of Ghana, cooperative relations between them remain strong. They are “cultural neighbors” who cooperate both in times of violent conflict and during periods of no conflict. Cooperation between them is expressed through everyday interactions, cattle entrustment, resource sharing, trade, friendship, intermarriages, visitations, exchanges, communal labor, and social solidarity. Borrowing from theorizations of cultural neighborhood and everyday peace, this paper uses specific case studies from Northern and Southern Ghana to illustrate the enactment of cooperation between herders and farmers in areas of violent farmer-herder conflict.

Research with people in highly politicized research settings illuminates the gap between the images that most African governments strive to represent and the sociopolitical realities of everyday life. This article discusses the opportunities and challenges of doing research in postgenocide Rwanda and is a useful resource for researchers contemplating their own projects under such conditions, whether in Rwanda or elsewhere. It discusses the importance of creating personal relationships and meeting people on their terms, as well as such topics as the identification of the research site, building rapport and trust with respondents, safeguarding anonymity and confidentiality, and working with local research assistants and partners.

In May 2013 the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) announced that construction of the world’s largest hydroelectric project will begin in October 2015. Upon completion, according to the DRC, the project will bring electricity to half the African continent. With funding from South Africa, the World Bank, the African Development Bank, and others, the U.S.$80 billion Grand Inga Hydroelectric project will construct a 44,000 megawatt (MW) dam anchored to a new transmission network able to distribute electricity to all four of sub-Saharan Africa’s regional electricity power pools. While the dam promises to bring electricity to many millions of Africans who currently lack access, the project also poses risks to the citizens and environment of the DRC. To assess the complex tradeoffs, this article evaluates four dimensions that are part of an energy security framework: availability, affordability, efficiency, and stewardship. In doing so, it explores some of the governance challenges that arise in managing such a “mega-project.” The analysis also reveals tensions between national and regional energy security. It presents evidence that, under certain assumptions, the pursuit of enhanced security at the regional level may result in a net security loss for the DRC. Finally, the article provides suggestions for enhancing the decision-making process of those designing related national and regional energy strategies.

This article examines the rise of vigilantism in southeastern Nigeria. Two opposing discourses on Nigerian vigilantism are examined. The first is characterized by the valorization of vigilantes as heroes in popular Nigerian video movies. The second is represented by a recent Human Rights Watch (HRW) report denouncing die vigilantes as criminals. My research utilizes ethnographic research to contextualize the video movies as a means toward understanding the ideological gap between these discourses. A close analysis of the Issakaba video series reveals a subtle treatment of the vigilante phenomenon designed to appeal to an indigenous perspective that is cognizant of the inherent risks of vigilante justice but also aware of the limitations of reform strategies such as those proposed by the HRW report.

Let me first thank the organizers for inviting me to deliver the keynote address at this important gathering. It is indeed a great honor to me personally but I also take it as recognition of the endeavors of African social scientists to promote social science research in Africa. One such African social scientist was a colleague and friend, the late Professor Claude Ake who did so much to institutionalize social science research in Africa. I would like to use this occasion to pay him tribute.

Whatever the origins of the name of the series, it is today a salute to the many who struggle for democracy in Africa and a grim reminder that the scourge of militarism still haunts our continent and that those who would rule by the sword are either in power or lurk behind the corridors of power ready at any time to ambush the democratic process.

The title I gave to the lecture must already suggest how unwieldy the subject is. I obviously cannot deal adequately with all the constricting and enabling contingencies within which social science is practiced in Africa. Time and space demand that I be highly selective in my presentation. If I seem to emphasize problem areas in the social sciences in Africa and in the relationship between Africans and their non-African counterparts it will not be because I do not recognize the real gains made in the search for solutions. I should also state at the outset that I am aware of some of the travails of students of Africa in North America and it is not my intention to add more to them. If this is any consolation, let me assure you that your woes are nothing compared to ours.

In the wake of the economic crisis in Cameroon and the disappearance of transitional pathways for youth that accompanied it, political and economic uncertainty turned into a new kind of social certainty for young people. Inspired by world-class models of success, and perceiving themselves as the “Unlimited” generation, they reacted by mapping out new biographical trajectories. Besides embracing beat-the-system strategies, they opted for migration to the West, seen as a “final port of call” at a historical juncture when the emphasis was on closure. For those who could not migrate, cyberspace provided a new space for encounters. With a view to capturing the excess energy of nonmigrating youths, political entrepreneurs created groups that sought to penetrate the state, which is still seen, even while being penetrated, as an unbounded Prometheus. In general, youths have tended to challenge a basic assumption of what has been called the “field of possibles”—that success is determined by one's cultural capital or baggage.

This article traces the history of homosexual and transgender behavior in Senegal from colonial times to the contemporary period in order to demonstrate the flimsiness of the claims, made by many political and religious leaders and scholars, that homosexuality is “un-African.” Such claims, which appear as reactions to neocolonialism and Western intervention in African affairs, usually are homophobic discourses that invoke patriotism, cultural difference, and morality in order to justify the subjugation of homosexual and gender nonconforming individuals (goor-jiggens) living in Senegal. In an attempt to understand the roots of Senegalese homophobia, the article analyzes several depictions of homosexuals and transgender people in contemporary Senegal and traces them to similar representations in European writings of the colonial period. As this approach reveals, homosexuals and transgender people in Senegal, from colonial times to the present, have been constructed as scapegoats, first of the French mission civilisatrice (civilizing mission) and then of Senegalese political and Islamic backlashes. Although they have always cohabited with the rest of the society, homosexuals and transgender people in Senegal have been treated largely as strangers in their own land. By analyzing the discourses of both French colonials and Senegalese, one finds a persistent binary opposing the West and Africa and denigrating sexual and gender variances and subcultures in Senegal as pathological European imports.

Human–wildlife conflict (HWC) is often considered in terms of how the impact on humans can be mitigated, but in the context of the larger goal of meeting conservation goals. This article explores the hidden costs of HWC on human well-being in northern Kenya through a qualitative case study of Laikipia County. Drawing on narratives of wildlife as destructive, wildlife as inherently more important or valuable than humans, and wildlife preservation as a pathway for capturing resources, it explores the impacts of HWC on human well-being, situating the study within the HWC, political ecology, and human security literature.

The Nigerian military state has used gender politics for its own ends, exploiting opportunities afforded by international concern with women. The highly publicized program for rural women enabled the regime of Babangida to gain international credibility. The Abacha regime did not seek or win international support, but sought to upstage the gender politics of their predecessors locally by mounting more broadly populist programs which promised benefits to “the family” and further reinscribed women within highly limited reproductive roles. Because Nigerian civil society has been so reluctant to engage with gender, the military have been able to appropriate the terrain they refer to as “women development” for their own ends. Through a series of high profile programs, they have neutralized the potentially subversive and inherently antimilitarist notion of women's liberation, and propagated a gender politics which normalizes military rule.

Parallel with and spurred on in part by the emergence of Jamaican reggae onto the international pop music scene in the mid-1970s, the Jamaican Rastafarian movement, whose origins are to be found on the island of Jamaica in the early 1930s, has within the past two decades managed to expand beyond its island homeland and attract a widespread and culturally diverse global following.

Until now, the movement has drawn its largest and most committed following from among those whose indigenous culture has been suppressed, and in certain instances completely supplanted, by Western models imposed during centuries of European and American colonial expansion. For the young unemployed or underemployed Maori in New Zealand, Havasupai Indian living on a reservation at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, West Indian struggling for survival in Brixton and Ghanaian in Accra trying to come to terms with urban living in a multiethnic, post-colonial African society, adherence to Rastafari provides an alternative source of meaning and identity to a life frequently punctuated by hopelessness, alienation and despair in what is often perceived as a hostile, corrupt and hypocritical Eurocentric environment.

If Rastafarianism functions as an ideological corrective to the suffering, exploitation and alienation experienced by young people of color the world over, it holds an especially heightened resonance and appeal for Africans and those of African descent. And while the messages expounded by the Rastafari promote love and respect for all living things and emphasize the paramount importance of human dignity and self-respect, above all else they speak of freedom from spiritual, psychological as well as physical slavery and oppression (things Africans have come to know much about over the course of the last four centuries, be it directly via the holocaust of the Middle Passage or indirectly through the degrading experience of colonization).

The city of Guangzhou, China, hosts a diverse and growing population of foreign Christians. The religious needs of investors and professionals have been accommodated through government approval of a nondenominational church for foreigners. By contrast, African Pentecostal churches operate out of anonymous buildings under informal and fragile agreements with law-enforcement officers. The marginality of the churches is mirrored by the daily lives of the church-goers: Many are undocumented immigrants who restrain their movements to avoid police interception. In contrast to these experiences, the churches present alternative geographies where the migrants take center stage. First, Africans are given responsibility for evangelizing the Gospel, as Europeans are seen to have abandoned their mission. Second, China is presented as a pivotal battlefield for Christianity. And finally, Guangzhou is heralded for its potential to deliver divine promises of prosperity. This geographical imagery assigns meaning to the migration experience, but also reinforces ethnic isolation. The analysis is based on in-depth interviews, participant observation, and video recordings of sermons in a Pentecostal church in Guangzhou with a predominately Nigerian congregation.

No subject has in recent years so intruded into the scholarly literature on Africa as the African worker. Labor has become a fundamental issue to those who seek to develop African economies or to revolutionize African polities. The elucidation and debate about the relationship of labor to historical and social issues is currently under way over an impressive range of places and in a number of languages. It is thus highly appropriate at this juncture to assemble some of the themes that emerge most sharply in contemporary writing on Africa.

A broad range of opinion would concede that the worker, when organized in the pursuit of specific objectives or as a class, necessarily takes on a special political importance. One aspect of the literature on African labor is thus political, studying in particular the organizations workers have created, their significance and direction. Whether or not such organization exists, labor has a fundamental economic role to play. In bourgeois economics, labor is generally categorized as a factor whose productivity, contribution, and wages need to be assessed to understand the broader picture. Marxist economics gives labor a fundamental position; it is from the surplus extracted from the worker that the ruling class ultimately lives while the form of extraction determines more than purely economic relationships. In particular, Marxists thus emphasize as well the broader social significance of labor. They have been responsible for introducing laborrelated questions to a broad range of historical and societal discussions typical of much recent literature on Africa.

Analysts of African business in the 1960s and 1970s stressed the weakness of the local private sector and its subordination to foreign capital and the government. Have economic liberalization and the shrinking of the state changed matters? This paper takes up this question in an analysis of Senegal. Here, relations between the state, foreign capital, and indigenous business interests have changed considerably since 1980, signaling what may be some of the most significant shifts in Senegal's political economy since Abdou Diouf's coming to power in 1981. There has been a shift of commercial control away from the state and foreign interests and toward the Senegalese “informal sector,” and clear moves away from the old pattern of clientelist-style relations between Senegalese business and the regime.

In this paper, we argue that in spite of changes, the political clout and economic ambitions of Senegalese business interests are still limited by their weak hold on productive sectors of the economy. This is clear in the economic policy fights of the 1990s. Much of the contest is a struggle for commercial-sector advantage that pits old-style politician-businessmen against the “informal sector” commercial interests that have been gathering force in Senegal since the 1970s. These changes seem to have less to do with the emergence of “indigenous capitalism” than with diminution of the regime's ability to constrain and canalize the development of indigenous commercial interests.

This paper traces these developments, grounding the analysis of the 1990s in a detailed empirical study of UNACOIS, a sometimes-militant business association that emerged in Dakar in 1990 to represent the Senegalese “informal sector.”