This article considers what African Studies needs to look like in order for it to retain its disciplinary relevance for the next generation and in the larger context of the Black Lives movement globally. It asks questions about where we have come from in terms of race consciousness in our discipline and why this issue matters today. It begins by tracing the development of African Studies’ epistemic journey, and follows this with an examination of the recent Black student movements in South Africa and the U.S. It concludes by suggesting where we should be going.

Today, high-tech surveillance seems omnipresent in Niger, particularly because of the conflicts in neighboring Mali, Libya, and Nigeria and efforts by the U.S. and France to boost local security agencies. However, Niger is not a very efficient “registering machine,” and the gendarmes have very limited knowledge of the communities in which they work. The key to overcoming this problem of knowledge—to “see things,” as the gendarmes put it—is the nurturing of good relationships with potential informants. But as the gendarmes depend on the knowledge of locals, the power relationship between the surveillers and those observed proves far more ambiguous than generally assumed.

By tracing the Rwandan state’s “mundane sights”—everyday forms of presence and monitoring—the article sheds light on the historical development and striking continuities in “interactive surveillance” across a century of turbulent political change. It considers three emblematic surveillance technologies—the institution of nyumbakumi, the identity card, and umuganda works (and public activities more broadly)—which, despite their implication in genocide, were retained, reworked, and even bolstered after the conflict ended. The article investigates what drives the observed continuity and “layering” of social monitoring over time, highlighting the key role played by ambiguity and ambivalence in this process. The research expands the concept of political surveillance, moving away from the unidirectional notion of “forms of watching,” and questions any easy distinctions between visibility and invisibility in the exercise of power or its subversion.

During a 2014 security operation in Kenya known as Operation Usalama Watch, Somali refugees spoke of money as their only valid ID, knowing that only cash, in contrast to identity documents, would be accepted by police and military. The article argues that such extortion should not be interpreted uncategorically as an example of refugees’ exclusion from state-derived citizenship rights. Rather, by paying bribes to resist forced removal from Nairobi, Somali refugees constructed a global diasporan identity tied to free flows of capital. By using money as a substitute for identity documents, refugees appealed to a notion of rights untethered to the state. At the same time, by speaking of money as their government, they articulated a critique against a political system that excluded them.

In January 2012, six months after the declaration of independence, South Sudan introduced a state-of-the-art biometric identity management system to handle its citizenship and passport databases. Scholars have shown that despite the remarkable failures of biometric schemes, states maintain their belief in high-modernist technologies. This article argues that South Sudan introduced biometrics to convey an image of a “non-failed” state to the international community, while effectively doubling the bureaucracy to keep all important decisions about inclusion and exclusion in the hands of the military elites. This duplication of the office reveals a great deal about the fundamental nature of the South Sudanese state. Citizens of any state tend to imagine the nation through their relations to bureaucracy, and identity documents act as a new kind of evidence of a successful negotiation between them and state agents. This situation creates a constant state of citizenship limbo for the South Sudanese.

This article uses the lens of disciplinary power to analyze the North–South relationships in efforts to govern drug trafficking in Senegal. Disciplinary surveillance shapes the activities of anti-trafficking units through repetitive examination, correction, and persuasion. These practices produce forms of resistance to the ways in which interdiction occurs, which implicate elites in the country. The result of constant international correction, and subsidiary actor resistance, is a frustrated law enforcement team. The argument deepens the literature on police reform in Africa, acknowledging the effects of international discipline on policing agents, while maintaining that immediate political settings heavily constrain disciplinary techniques and their internalizing effects.

The growth of the private security industry on the African continent has resulted in an expanding labor force engaged in surveillance-type activities. This article analyzes various levels of regulation of private security officers as a form of surveillance. Based on qualitative methodology, it compares the numerous regulatory efforts implemented by the state, industry, and companies of the private security industry in Kenya and South Africa and shows that although different, they essentially share the ultimate aim of controlling private security officers, i.e., to implement a means of “surveillance of the surveillers.”

Territorial reforms in South Africa, undertaken in order to address the legacy of apartheid, have proven to be a contested terrain. This article considers three case studies and argues that in order to understand these territorial disputes, it is important to pay attention to the material conditions of the affected communities, disparities between provinces in terms of resources and governance efficiency, and perceptions that the preferred province is better positioned to serve the interests of the community. The article highlights the role of party political interests and also reflects on the relevance of the South African experience to other African countries.

This article examines a complex dispute over the jurisdictions of traditional and statutory institutions that traversed shifts in forms of government in Ghana for nearly a decade following the ousting of Kwame Nkrumah in February 1966. The analysis emphasizes underlying processes of continuity and seeks to add nuance to familiar conceptualizations that view this period in terms of state weakness, crisis, and rupture. The article explores, in particular, a powerful category of chieftaincy defined in opposition to state logics that have escaped empirical investigation. It therefore invites a rethinking of the notion that the post-Nkrumah era heralded a state-initiated revival of traditional institutions.

In the past decade Cape Verde has seen an unexpected outburst of gang-related urban violence. The state has reacted mainly by means of a repressive securitization policy, which has not been able to offer more than temporary solutions. In public discourses, “broken” families, youth drug consumption, and a supposed lack of education and sufficiently severe punishment are often referred to as the main causes for the rise in crime. The article discusses such discourses, contrasting them with the experiences and narratives of inmates from the country’s two central prisons. It suggests that extrajudicial punishment of suspects and offenders by police officers, as reported by many juvenile convicts, is part of the dynamics of violence manifest in different spheres of Cape Verdean society and may be a possible factor influencing the decision of young citizens to “opt” for, or stick to, careers of marginality and delinquency.