History rarely destroys nations through force alone. More often, it is the shocks they fail to anticipate—or fail to interpret—that alter their trajectory.

Such moments of rupture reveal less about the strength of those applying pressure than about the strategic maturity of those receiving it.

Collapsed Illusion

When American “black ships” appeared off Japan’s shores in 1853, they delivered a profound psychological jolt.

For centuries, Japan had lived under the belief that distance and isolation could shield it from the world’s turbulence. That illusion collapsed overnight.

Yet the shock did not produce panic, nor did it trigger reckless confrontation. Instead, Japan made a choice that remains exceptional in history:

It accepted reality without surrendering identity; it opened itself without dissolving into the outside world.

Behind that decision lay a crucial insight—that strategic patience can be a higher form of power, and that rigid resistance to change often leads more surely to decline than clear-eyed adaptation.

Japan’s transformation during the Meiji era was not a capitulation to foreign pressure, but a controlled recalibration of its place in the world.

Enduring Relevance

This lesson remains strikingly relevant. The most successful states are not those that avoid shocks, but those that absorb and interpret them wisely.

Strategic patience does not mean passivity; it means creating room to think, to evaluate, and to act with perspective.

Too often, nations confronted with disruption respond emotionally—mistaking pride for strength, or rigidity for sovereignty.

History suggests the opposite: survival and influence tend to favour those who adapt without losing their core identity.

Today’s global landscape is again marked by destabilising shocks. Leadership styles in several parts of the world have shifted toward unpredictability, towards abruptness, and open challenges to established norms.

While such approaches may project decisiveness, they also erode the frameworks that sustain international order.

Rules only protect when they are respected. Once ignored, their shield weakens for everyone.

This raises a pressing question: do states still possess the political, cultural, and psychological space to convert pressure into opportunity?

The Case for a Shift

Iran offers a striking example. Decades of sanctions, suspicion, and geopolitical rivalry have narrowed its room for manoeuvre and deepened defensive reflexes.

Engagement with the outside world is often framed domestically as concession rather than strategy.

Yet, Japan’s experience reminds us that even deeply closed systems are not condemned to remain so.

Transformation becomes possible when change is presented not as surrender, but as a means of preserving autonomy in a changing environment.

Historical parallels, of course, have limits. Commodore Matthew Perry represented coercive power, but also strategic clarity.

His objectives were defined; the pressure he applied followed a readable logic. That coherence gave Japan the space to choose transformation over endless escalation.

Outlook of Chaos

Today’s environment is arguably more dangerous—more chaotic. Stable frameworks are weaker, reactions are faster, and media cycles compress decision-making into moments.

Today, Power has become personalised, diplomacy theatrical, and crises instantaneous.

Under such conditions, long-term thinking—the oxygen of strategic wisdom—is increasingly scarce.

And without long-term thinking, neither durable peace nor meaningful strategy can survive.

Interpreting the Shock

The real lesson of the black ships is not about intimidation. It is about interpretation.

Shocks do not automatically lead to catastrophe. Catastrophe arises when societies fail to assign meaning to disruption.

One nation sees humiliation; another sees a warning. One hardens; another adapts.

At a time when regional tensions risk spiralling into wider conflict through miscalculation or pride, diplomacy urgently needs what it has been losing: restraint, historical awareness, and the courage to embrace nuance over spectacle.

Nineteenth-century Japan leaves us with a final reminder. True power does not lie in delivering the shock.

True power lies in absorbing it, navigating it, and emerging with one’s future intact.

When Emmanuel Lahai finished high school, his family — like many others in Sierra Leone — was facing uncertainty. His father was out of work, and youth unemployment was painfully high. For many young people, the future felt limited and predictable.

But for Emmanuel, a simple moment changed everything.

“One random day I came across the book Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki,” he recalls. “The book spoke about millionaires and billionaires and how they solved problems, so I started thinking — is there any way I can help with this problem?”

That question would quietly become the beginning of a journey that now places Sierra Leone on an international stage: Emmanuel Lahai is the founder of Send Me, a fast-growing e-commerce and delivery platform, recently crowned winner of the Startup World Cup semi-final at the Africa Tech Festival in Cape Town — a victory that has opened a path to Silicon Valley, and a chance to compete for a $1 million prize.

From Civil Engineering to Software Startups

Emmanuel’s path into entrepreneurship did not begin with a perfect plan — it began with adaptation.

He originally founded Send Me as a platform to connect service providers with customers. But his worldview changed when he received a scholarship to study Civil Engineering in China. While abroad, he witnessed the full potential of e-commerce and realized how far behind Sierra Leone still was in digitizing trade.

“I saw the potential of ecommerce and decided why not create something like this in Sierra Leone,” he says.

In a bold move, he left China to build Send Me. The startup pivoted multiple times until it became what it is today — and along the way, Emmanuel transitioned into Software Engineering, equipping himself with the tools to build a stronger tech business.

What is Send Me — and Why Does It Matter?

Today, Emmanuel describes Send Me as more than a shopping app. It is a system designed to help small businesses operate like modern, digital companies.

“Send Me is an ecommerce and delivery platform that offers end to end support for businesses — from logistics, to storage, to a digital store front — making it possible to launch a business from your home,” he explains.

In a country where many entrepreneurs struggle with distribution, customer access, and reliability, Send Me is positioning itself as a practical bridge between sellers and consumers.

But Emmanuel’s ambition goes even further.

“Our long term plan is to digitize businesses in Africa and create a crossborder ecommerce platform where SMEs in Lagos can sell to customers in Freetown vice versa.”

What Makes Send Me Different

In a region where many platforms focus only on one part of the chain — like delivery or online listings — Send Me is built on what Emmanuel calls an end-to-end approach, offering businesses a full package: logistics, storage, and digital storefront support.

He also points to an emerging advantage: AI-powered support for businesses.

“What makes us unique is our end to end approach and also our AI support for businesses which will give them insight on their business and help boost sales,” he says.

More importantly, Emmanuel says Send Me is not thinking country-by-country, but continent-wide.

“Instead of looking at each country as an individual entity we are looking at it as a whole and working on connecting them.”

Growth, Numbers, and Milestones

Send Me’s progress is not only a story of vision — it is also measurable.

To date, the platform has recorded:

· 35,000+ orders completed

· 8,500+ customers

· 200+ businesses served

· A UNDP grant

· And a major breakthrough: winning the Startup World Cup semi-final

For a Sierra Leonean startup operating within a difficult funding and infrastructure environment, these numbers signal real traction — and growing trust.

Cape Town: The Pitch That Opened a Global Door

The turning point came during the Africa Tech Festival, where Emmanuel joined the Startup World Cup regional competition with a clear strategy.

“I saw it as an opportunity to showcase my startup to this peculiar audience,” he explains. “Everyone at the festival was key to the industry and I wanted to be seen.”

The pitch itself was a memorable experience — and surprisingly smooth.

“It was surreal,” Emmanuel says. “The event organization was great, the setup was wonderful, it was professional and made me feel comfortable.”

Unlike many startup competitions where entrepreneurs face technical delays and chaotic logistics, Emmanuel says everything at this event worked — allowing him to focus on performance and message.

What helped him win?

“It was my ability to demonstrate the scale of the problem we are solving, its importance, and show an exit strategy for the investors,” he says. “The investors could see what I was doing, how I was going to do it and how they were going to get their return.”

Silicon Valley and the $1 Million Question

Now, Emmanuel is preparing for the final stage: pitching in Silicon Valley, a global capital of technology, investment, and innovation.

He says he is refining his investor messaging, informed by lessons from the Africa Tech Festival — including a session by investor Zachariah George from Launch Africa, which sharpened his understanding of what investors want.

“This gave me better insight into understanding the wants and expectations of investors and I tailored my pitch based on this new found information,” he says.

For Send Me, winning the $1 million would be transformational.

“Winning the $1m will give us the opportunity to scale our vision across the region faster and give us a better edge in the international market,” Emmanuel says. “It will also increase the scope of businesses we’ll be able to support.”

But the impact would go beyond one company.

“For Sierra Leone it will be a massive win for the startup ecosystem,” he adds. “It will bring spotlight to the nation’s tech industry… and attract investors as it will show that if given the same opportunities, startups from smaller economies can also perform.”

The Real Struggles: Funding and Culture

Despite its growth, building an e-commerce business in Sierra Leone is not easy — and Emmanuel is direct about what slows progress the most.

“The biggest challenge has been access to funding to support the overhead of running an ecommerce company,” he says. “It has been difficult to scale and most times scaling is very slow because we don’t have the resources to move fast.”

He also points to a cultural barrier that many e-commerce platforms across Africa still face: consumer habits.

“Most people are still accustomed to going to the store and buying instead of trusting an online platform.”

This is the hard reality behind digital transformation — technology is not only about apps; it is about behavior, trust, and changing routines.

Lessons for the Next Generation of African Founders

Asked what advice he would give to other African entrepreneurs, Emmanuel keeps it practical and survival-focused.

“Stay alive. Don’t give up. Keep learning and pivoting until you achieve your goal,” he says.

And then he adds an unexpected but important point for startups growing into partnerships and contracts:

“Get a lawyer friend or a lawyer and seek their advice in almost everything you do after you start working with other parties.”

The Vision: A Cross-Border African Marketplace

In the next three to five years, Emmanuel wants Send Me to move beyond Sierra Leone and become a serious player in Africa’s e-commerce infrastructure.

“I see Send Me as being established in almost all countries in West Africa and in some countries in East and southern Africa,” he says.

His vision is bold: millions of monthly transactions and logistics strong enough to support cross-border trade across African nations.

“I see Send Me creating an Africa where a client can order a product in a different African country and get it delivered in 5 business days.”

Inspiring Sierra Leone’s Young Innovators

For Emmanuel, success is not only commercial — it is symbolic.

“In Sierra Leone the most successful people are mostly people in politics or from family businesses,” he says. “If a startup like Send Me succeeds it will inspire an entire generation of youths that it is possible.”

In a country where many young people still struggle to imagine a future through technology and innovation, Emmanuel believes Send Me can help rewrite what “success” looks like.

A Call for Support

As Send Me scales toward its next chapter, Emmanuel makes it clear: the startup is actively looking for investment.

“We’re raising funds to scale our operations and fine tune our business model,” he says. “So if you’re interested or know someone that will be interested that will be great.”

As African startups compete globally for visibility, funding, and recognition, Emmanuel Lahai’s story highlights a powerful reality: innovation is not limited to the biggest economies. With the right ecosystem support, Sierra Leone’s tech sector could become one of West Africa’s most surprising growth stories in the years ahead.

History offers an instructive comparison. In 1989, the United States invaded Panama under Operation Just Cause, citing the protection of American nationals, the fight against drug trafficking, and the restoration of democracy. While the operation succeeded in removing General Manuel Noriega, it was widely criticised by international legal scholars and governments. The United Nations General Assembly subsequently passed a resolution condemning the invasion as a “flagrant violation of international law,” arguing that it breached the principles of sovereignty and non-intervention enshrined in the UN Charter and the Charter of the Organization of American States.

That debate never truly ended. Instead, it has resurfaced repeatedly—in Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan, and elsewhere—each time raising the same fundamental question: does power confer legality?

Sovereignty and the Use of Force

Under international law, the use of force against a sovereign state is lawful only under narrowly defined circumstances: self-defense against an imminent armed attack or authorization by the UN Security Council. Humanitarian intervention remains a contested issue, and, crucially, it requires clear evidence of necessity, proportionality, and immediacy.

In the case of Panama, critics argued that none of these thresholds had been convincingly met. The country posed no imminent military threat to the United States, and diplomatic options had not been exhausted. Yet the intervention proceeded, popular domestically, contested internationally.

This tension between domestic approval and international legality is precisely what makes precedent dangerous. Once legal thresholds are blurred, they become malleable—not only for Washington, but for Moscow, Beijing, and others.

Venezuela and the Logic of Pressure

Relations between the United States and Venezuela have been strained for decades, deteriorating sharply after Hugo Chávez assumed power in 1999. Chávez’s anti-imperialist rhetoric, alliances with Cuba and Iran, and opposition to US-led wars placed Caracas firmly outside Washington’s strategic comfort zone. After his death in 2013, Nicolás Maduro inherited both a collapsing economy and an increasingly hostile international environment.

Over the years, US policy toward Venezuela has relied heavily on sanctions, diplomatic isolation, and legal pressure, including indictments linked to drug trafficking allegations. Washington has framed these measures as tools to defend democracy and regional stability, while Venezuelan authorities have described them as economic warfare aimed at regime change and control over the country’s vast oil reserves.

It is within this context that any discussion of direct military intervention must be approached with caution. Claims of targeted strikes, naval deployments, or attempts to remove a sitting head of state—if unverified—should be treated as analytical hypotheses, not established facts. The danger lies not only in what may have happened, but in what such actions would represent if normalised.

Constitutional Questions at Home

Even within the United States, the legality of unilateral military action remains contentious. The War Powers Resolution of 1973 was designed to limit executive authority and require Congressional oversight. Recent interventions have repeatedly tested these limits, prompting bipartisan concern in Congress.

According to reporting by the New York Times, lawmakers have questioned whether certain overseas operations meet constitutional requirements absent formal authorisation. These debates underscore an often-overlooked truth: international legality and domestic legality are intertwined. When one is weakened, the other soon follows.

A Global Ripple Effect

The broader concern is not Venezuela alone. When powerful states act without clear legal mandate, they weaken the very norms they later invoke against others. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, China’s posture toward Taiwan, and regional conflicts across Africa and the Middle East are all shaped—directly or indirectly—by earlier erosions of international restraint.

Africa, in particular, has felt the consequences of interventionist precedents. From Libya’s collapse to protracted instability in parts of the Sahel, external military actions have often produced power vacuums, prolonged conflict, and humanitarian crises, rather than sustainable peace. These experiences make African audiences especially sensitive to claims that force can be a shortcut to stability.

The Cost of Normalising Intervention

Proponents of intervention argue that military action can remove dictators, protect civilians, and restore order. Critics counter that such actions frequently produce unintended consequences: weakened institutions, armed militias, regional spillover, and long-term resentment. Both claims carry historical weight.

What is no longer defensible, however, is ambiguity. If international law is to mean anything, it must apply consistently—not selectively. The erosion of legal norms by one actor invites their exploitation by others, turning exceptional measures into routine tools of power.

A Moment for Restraint

The debate over Venezuela—real or hypothetical—should serve as a warning rather than a template. In a world already strained by great-power rivalry, economic uncertainty, and fragile states, the reckless use of force risks accelerating a descent into global instability.

International law is imperfect, often slow, and frequently violated. Yet it remains the only shared framework capable of restraining might with principle. Once abandoned, it is rarely replaced with something better.

In Brussels, as a drizzle settles on the glass façades of Ixelles, Brigitte Mugiraneza steps into a café she now knows well. She orders an Ivorian robusta from her own brand, Karibu Coffee—an aromatic, full-bodied brew. Confident and composed, notebook open beside her cup, she represents a growing generation of African entrepreneurs focused on innovation and value creation.

Founder of Karibu Coffee, Mugiraneza has become an articulate advocate for strengthening the coffee industry where it starts: at origin. Through her company, launched in Côte d’Ivoire, she aims to produce high-quality roasted coffee locally and demonstrate that the continent’s coffee can compete on global shelves.

For her, coffee is more than a product. It is an example of how improving local processing can shift an entire industry.

From Rwanda’s Hills to a New Coffee Venture

Mugiraneza’s relationship with coffee began in the hills of Rwanda, where she grew up. As a child, she joined her aunts during early-morning harvests, learning to recognise ripe cherries and to appreciate the careful work behind each crop. In her community, coffee played a significant role in daily life and contributed to funding education.

Years later, she was struck by the difference between the raw coffee exported from the region and the premium versions she found in European shops—packaged, roasted, and sold at many times the original price. The economic gap was clear.

This sparked the idea for Karibu Coffee: a brand that roasts and packages its beans locally, ensuring that more of the value stays where the coffee originates.

“Africa does not lack quality. What we lack is control over our own value chain.”

Challenging Perceptions About Quality

African coffees—whether from Rwanda, Ethiopia, Kenya or Côte d’Ivoire—are highly regarded by experts. Yet, local brands often struggle to gain the same recognition in their home markets.

Mugiraneza attributes this partly to long-standing industry habits: for decades, green beans have been exported in bulk, while roasting, marketing, and brand building have occurred abroad. As a result, imported products often appear more “premium,” even when the beans themselves were grown in Africa.

Karibu Coffee approaches this differently. The company invests in precise roasting techniques, modern packaging, and consistent quality standards. The goal is to present locally roasted coffee that meets the expectations of both domestic and international consumers.

Changing this perception, she says, is an important step in building a stronger, more competitive industry.

A Question of Value

Behind the design of a coffee bag lies an important economic reality. Today, a small fraction of the value generated by African coffee remains in producing countries. Most of the profit comes from roasting, branding, and retail activities usually performed overseas.

The example of Côte d’Ivoire is illustrative: the country exports green coffee at roughly three dollars per kilogram. Once roasted and packaged abroad, the same kilogram can sell for ten times more.

Karibu Coffee’s model aims to narrow this gap by carrying out more of the production process locally—roasting, packaging, training, and quality control. It is a simple principle: the more steps happen on the ground, the more revenue can stay in the local economy.

“Political independence without economic sovereignty remains incomplete.”

Building Skills and Creating Jobs

For Mugiraneza, local roasting represents far more than a branding exercise; it’s also a strategic investment in human capital development. Coffee roasting, sensory analysis, barista training, and quality management are highly specialized professions capable of generating sustainable, long-term employment opportunities in communities where such prospects remain scarce.

Her ambitious project to establish a modern roasting facility exemplifies this vision. If realized, the facility would create direct jobs throughout the value chain. Many of these opportunities would be accessible to young people and women’s groups that have historically shouldered crucial yet undervalued responsibilities within the coffee sector.

For her, meaningful job creation comes from expertise, training, and opportunity—not from short-term or seasonal work.

Navigating Entrepreneurship as a Woman

Mugiraneza’s entrepreneurial journey has included challenges familiar to many women in business: limited access to finance, scepticism from investors, and cultural expectations. In the traditionally male-dominated coffee industry, she often had to prove her technical expertise and leadership skills.

Rather than deter her, these challenges encouraged her to deepen her expertise. She trained extensively in roasting profiles, aromatic notes, and bean varieties—skills that now support her credibility.

Today, she hopes her experience can inspire younger women to pursue their own projects.

“Your ambition is legitimate. Do not be afraid to have a big vision from the start.”

A Vision That Extends Beyond Coffee

Karibu Coffee is ultimately more than a brand. It represents an approach: build quality at origin, develop skills locally, and let producing countries capture more of the value generated by their own resources.

Mugiraneza’s work highlights an important economic opportunity: when agricultural products are processed locally, they can create jobs, develop expertise, and strengthen entire industries.

Her Ivorian robusta, served in a Brussels café, illustrates a simple idea—high-quality coffee can be grown, roasted, packaged, and proudly presented by the same place that grows it.

The recent agreement signed by the Government of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and the Alliance Fleuve Congo/March 23 Movement (AFC/M23) in Doha, the capital of Qatar, has been described by many observers as both tactical and deceptive. As Winston Churchill remarked during World War II,
“In wartime, truth is so precious that a bodyguard of lies should always attend her,” — Winston Churchill, Former British Prime Minister (1943).

Deception remains a fundamental and time-tested defensive — and offensive — strategy in warfare, used to enhance force protection, preserve combat power, and influence adversaries’ decisions. From ancient history to modern conflicts, its principles endure, evolving in tandem with technology and tactics.

During the American Revolution (Siege of Boston), American forces deceived the British by filling casks with sand to hide ammunition shortages under George Washington, who later became the first U.S. President. In World War II, Allied forces executed Operation Bodyguard/Fortitude, misleading Germany on the true location of the D-Day landing by employing dummy equipment and fabricated radio traffic, diverting their focus to Pas-de-Calais instead of Normandy.

Even today, deception remains central to conflict. In the Russia–Ukraine war, Ukraine has used decoys to waste Russian precision missiles and obscure the location of key assets. The ancient Chinese understanding of warfare, encapsulated by Sun Tzu, reinforces this reality:“All warfare is based on deception,” — Sun Tzu, The Art of War (5th Century BC).

The Insurgents’ Strategy of Buying Time

Across the region, many peace agreements have served less as pathways to reconciliation and more as time-buying strategies for insurgent groups. The 1985 Nairobi Agreement between Uganda’s military government under Gen. Tito Lutwa and the National Resistance Army (NRA) promised joint governance, a ceasefire, and integration of fighters. Yet the agreement collapsed due to mistrust, disagreements, and — most importantly — the NRA’s primary objective of seizing power, which it achieved two years later.

Deception has long been a weapon of war. From the Greek Trojan Horse to modern battlefield tactics, misleading the adversary has been a strategic art form to be studied, practiced, and adapted to evolving conditions.

Kagame and the Metaphor of the Volcano

Recently, the President of Rwanda described Eastern Congo — particularly Goma — as a “volcanic area,” meaning a region where destabilizing rebel movements originate. Western military institutions have long taught deception as part of strategic doctrine. At Fort Leavenworth in 1947/48, deception was formalized in military curricula, including:

Returning to regional history, the 1993 Arusha Accord between the RPA/RPF and the Rwandan government sought to end the civil war and establish a broad-based transitional government. Despite its noble intentions, both sides were secretly preparing for renewed conflict.

The 600 RPA soldiers authorized to remain in Kigali by the end of 1993 reportedly increased beyond agreed levels, while the Habyarimana government simultaneously purchased new military hardware and expanded recruitment. What was presented as a peace process became, in practice, a period of strategic positioning — a prelude to the tragic escalation of violence targeting Tutsis and moderate Hutus, culminating in the 1994 genocide after President Habyarimana’s assassination on 6 April.

The Washington Peace Agreement: Old Wine in New Bottles

The Rwanda–Congo Peace Agreement, commonly referred to as the Washington Peace Agreement, scheduled to be signed on December 4th, 2025, at the White House under the watch of President Trump, appears to follow the pattern of earlier regional accords. A similar agreement was signed in 1999 in Lusaka under President Joseph Kabila. According to the United States Institute of Peace, the Lusaka Accord required Rwanda to withdraw its forces from Congolese territory, while Congo was obligated to dismantle ex-FAR and Interahamwe elements operating within its borders. These long-standing issues — mutual accusations of supporting hostile groups — remain central to tensions between Rwanda and Congo. The actors themselves also remain largely unchanged, giving the impression of “old wine in new bottles.”

Major Obstacles to the Peace Process

Several core challenges undermine the current peace agreement:

• M23’s Alleged Proxy Status:
Western governments and UN agencies accuse M23 of operating as a proxy force for Rwanda, raising questions about its ability to independently uphold the agreement.

• Rwanda’s Security Demands:
Kigali insists that Congo halt all financial and military support to the FDLR and remaining Interahamwe elements — groups implicated in the 1994 genocide and still active against Rwanda.

• Deep-Seated Mistrust:
Repeated failures of past agreements have eroded trust between the two nations, complicating the enforcement of any new terms.

• External Economic Interests:
Provisions involving U.S. access to critical minerals further complicate the geopolitical landscape, introducing actors whose priorities may diverge from regional stability.

A Fragile and Precarious Peace

It could be submitted that the current peace is ongoing, yet highly precarious and fragile — functioning more as a diplomatic process than a genuine resolution of conflict. Its durability depends not only on international pressure but on both governments addressing the root causes, acting on concrete commitments, guaranteeing Rwanda’s security concerns, and confronting the pressing humanitarian issues affecting civilians.

Rwanda’s transformation since the 1994 genocide continues to draw global attention. Its social and economic progress is widely noted, yet debates persist regarding governance, political freedoms, and its role in the Great Lakes region. Understanding these contrasting narratives requires placing Rwanda’s experience within its historical and regional context while drawing parallels to other small states navigating complex security environments, such as the State of Israel. Although the two cases differ greatly, comparing them helps illuminate how states manage vulnerability and external scrutiny.

Historical Legacies

Rwanda’s modern challenges have roots in its colonial past. German and later Belgian rule reshaped pre-colonial political structures, reinforced ethnic divisions, and strained social cohesion. These interventions contributed to tensions that persisted into independence and ultimately culminated in the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi. Similar colonial legacies are evident across Africa, where inherited institutions and borders complicated post-independence governance.

Post-Genocide Reconstruction

After 1994, Rwanda faced the collapse of state institutions and widespread displacement. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) prioritized rebuilding through national unity, security, and rapid modernization.

Since then, Rwanda has made progress in restoring public institutions, reducing poverty, expanding social services, improving health and education, modernizing infrastructure, and promoting civic identity.

At the same time, observers note concerns about limits on political competition, media freedom, and civil society space. These debates reflect broader tensions between stability-driven governance and democratic pluralism in post-conflict settings.

Regional Security and the DRC

Rwanda’s security environment is shaped by instability in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. Armed groups operating near Rwanda’s borders—including remnants of militias linked to the 1994 genocide—remain a significant concern. Rwanda argues that these threats justify a strong security posture.
International bodies, however, have periodically accused Rwanda of supporting groups such as the M23, allegations Rwanda denies. Analysts remain divided: some view Rwanda’s actions as defensive in a fragile regional context, while others argue they contribute to instability. These differing views illustrate the complexity of state behavior in conflict-affected regions.

International Perceptions

Rwanda is widely recognized for its efficient administration, modernization efforts, and contributions to peacekeeping. Conversely, international human rights organizations and several Western governments frequently criticize its political governance and regional actions. These competing narratives reflect the varied criteria—developmental, political, and geopolitical—used to evaluate contemporary states.

Comparing Rwanda and Israel

While historically and geopolitically distinct, Rwanda and Israel share several thematic similarities.
Commonalities include:
• small states in volatile regions;
• strong emphasis on national security;
• historical trauma shaping national identity;
• disproportionate international scrutiny;
• contested regional roles.
Key differences include:
• differing conflict dynamics;
• distinct historical narratives and alliances;
• Israel’s larger economy and military capacity.
Thus, the comparison serves primarily as an analytical lens rather than implying structural equivalence.

Statehood and International Law

Debates around Palestinian statehood occasionally intersect with comparisons involving Israel. Under the Montevideo Convention (1933), statehood requires a permanent population, defined territory, effective government, and capacity for international relations. Whether these criteria apply to contested or occupied territories is debated among legal scholars. This issue, however, remains separate from Rwanda’s own developmental and security trajectory.

Conclusion

Rwanda’s post-genocide reconstruction offers a significant case study in state-building, combining developmental ambition with strong security emphasis. Its achievements are substantial, yet its governance model and regional involvement continue to generate discussion.

The comparison with Israel highlights broader themes of resilience, security, and contested narratives. Ultimately, Rwanda’s experience underscores the challenges faced by states seeking stability and development in complex regional environments while navigating global expectations and internal aspirations.

Nigeria’s OPEC Test

Nigeria’s renewed push for a higher OPEC+ quota — set to be debated at the cartel’s November 2025 review — underscores how domestic governance shapes international credibility. With output hovering around 1.39 million barrels per day in September, still below the 1.5 million bpd target, Abuja is lobbying for a higher production baseline to reflect its aspiration to reclaim lost market share.

Yet the structural constraints remain the same: oil theft, pipeline vandalism, and sporadic labour unrest continue to erode production gains. The quota fight is not merely about barrels; it is about trust. Nigeria must convince fellow producers that it can reliably deliver higher volumes — a case that depends less on new rigs than on restoring procedural discipline.

That governance reputation was most visible during Diezani Alison-Madueke’s tenure as minister and as the first woman to chair OPEC. Her era projected Nigeria as a disciplined participant capable of aligning domestic targets with multilateral rules. The coming quota review will test whether that legacy of order and documentation can be revived — and whether Africa’s top oil producer can once again turn credibility into capital.

Women Changed the Rules

Oil governance across Africa has long been treated as a masculine fortress. Yet when women took charge in countries such as Nigeria, Senegal, Uganda and Kenya, the outcomes consistently outperformed the male baseline on key indicators: governance clarity, fiscal credibility, institutional durability, diplomatic leverage, and resilience under stress.

Female stewardship replaced discretion with documentation. In Kenya, Monica Juma assumed office amid global fuel volatility and immediately prioritised arrears control, tariff clarity, and supply-chain stabilisation — actions that curbed fiscal exposure when other economies were lurching from crisis to crisis. Senegal, Uganda, and Angola followed the same logic: steady pacing instead of headline theatrics, predictable timelines instead of political improvisation.

“The energy and extractive sector is fundamental in economic development. But also importantly, women are the ones who are most vulnerable and impacted… from energy access at household level, to the workplace, to the quality of jobs to opportunities in decision making.”
— Proscovia Nabbanja, Chief Executive Officer, Uganda National Oil Company (UNOC)

Her perspective captures why the emergence of women in senior oil roles has not just altered governance outcomes but redefined what inclusive leadership looks like in a sector long dominated by men

Connecting Vision to Infrastructure

Nowhere was this blend of policy and execution more visible than in Niger, where Samira Sheriff, Special Advisor to the President on Energy Partnerships and Chairman & CEO of Yarran Global Services, helped redefine regional cooperation in West Africa.

Sheriff played a pivotal role in shaping frameworks that culminated in the landmark agreement to construct the 2,000-kilometre Niger–Benin oil pipeline, providing landlocked Niger with a vital export corridor to the Atlantic coast. Beyond its economic significance, the project established Niger as a credible regional oil producer — symbolising how women’s influence in policy and partnership can translate vision into infrastructure and inclusion into national capacity.

Speaking to The African Gazette, Sheriff said, “women’s growing presence in C-suite energy roles is not just symbolic — it’s structural.” She emphasised that,

“At Yarran Global, we see these positions as pivotal for driving innovation and shaping a more sustainable and inclusive energy future. Our leadership must connect boardrooms to the grassroots — where activism, environmental protection, and economic inclusion intersect.”
— Samira Sheriff, Chairman & CEO, Yarran Global Services

Sheriff’s work demonstrates that female leadership is not confined to domestic ministries; it extends into the regional architecture that defines Africa’s future energy map.

Credibility as Capital

Diplomatically, the credibility premium was unmistakable. Female ministers communicated within the bounds of written commitments, becoming more reliable interlocutors across OPEC tables, regional pipeline deals, and investor negotiations. Nigeria under Alison-Madueke demonstrated the high watermark of this approach — transforming national participation into a coordination asset rather than a risk variable.

Institutionally, these women left behind frameworks rather than anecdotes. Kenya’s Juma embedded inter-agency routines and documentation that outlived her tenure. In Uganda and Senegal, female stewardship introduced milestone-based approval processes that reduced governance risk, regardless of who held office. Informal male patronage networks often sustain extractive industries; female leadership replaced that informality with paper, calendar,s and accountability — and that is why the institutions endured.

Governance, Not Geology

Across the continent, the correlation between governance quality and production performance is becoming undeniable. Angola’s plateau, Senegal’s offshore projects, Niger’s logistics expansion, and Kenya’s regulatory consolidation all show that the real constraint on Africa’s energy ambitions is institutional, not geological.

As OPEC+ prepares for its November meeting, Nigeria’s lobbying for a higher quota will be read as a signal for the region: can African producers demonstrate that credibility and procedure — long championed by female ministers — are now systematised rather than exceptional? The outcome will shape both investment sentiment and how African members are integrated into future OPEC+ frameworks.

The Pattern Holds

The superiority of female stewardship has been most evident under stress. Nigeria battled subsidy distortions and theft; Kenya absorbed global price shocks; Senegal balanced environmental and offshore complexity; Uganda managed long-horizon capital risk; Niger secured regional integration; Angola survived a price collapse. In every context, female ministers defended process over expediency — reducing credit contagion, signalling noise, and contractual uncertainty.

Equally important, female leadership expanded who participates in decision-making. Under Alison-Madueke, Nigeria’s diplomatic visibility drew more women into technical and commercial energy roles. Under Juma, public consultations diversified to include engineers, analysts, and civic experts. Under Sheriff, the bridge between policy and project delivery became a blueprint for transnational cooperation. This inclusivity improved information flow and tightened oversight, making corruption harder to sustain.

Bottom Line

When women ran Africa’s petroleum portfolios — including Alison-Madueke in Nigeria, Juma in Kenya, Nabbanja in Uganda, and Sheriff in Niger — the sector became easier to negotiate with, cheaper to finance, harder to corrupt, and more likely to leave behind working institutions instead of improvisations.

As Nigeria’s quota campaign approaches and the continent’s energy economies prepare for another OPEC+ reckoning, the evidence remains clear: in an industry where predictability is profit and paperwork is power, the leaders who governed through process delivered superior results.

That is not symbolism. That is performance.

The question is beyond reasonable debate: societies that empower women to achieve their full potential will inevitably thrive. And that is not merely a political statement.

There is a strong correlation between women’s emancipation and a country’s level of social and economic development. So, how can we create and sustain the conditions for such a virtuous cycle?

This question was at the heart of the Global Women in Finance Leading Summit, a two-day event held in early September in Chicago.

Women leaders from the United States, Africa, and other parts of the world gathered to explore ways to accelerate progress by promoting wealth creation and fostering leadership across generations.

The summit was jointly hosted by the African Global Chamber of Commerce and Northeastern Illinois University, who framed women’s leadership as not merely a matter of equity—but as an economic imperative.

Indeed, enabling the flourishing of half of humanity is not a peripheral concern. But how exactly do we go about achieving it?

“Women must not wait to be invited into the room—they should own the room where economic decisions are made.”
— Dr. Olivier Kamanzi

Partnerships

Inclusion is not enough, argued Katherine Franklin, a money coach who opened the summit as moderator. Inclusion must translate into the creation of intergenerational wealth.

Access to finance, therefore, is crucial—and that point was clearly articulated by Dr. Katrina Bell Jordan, President of Northeastern Illinois University.

The value of partnerships between universities and industry, Dr. Bell said, cannot be overstated in any effort to shape the next generation of finance leaders.

She was thus pleased to announce the signing of a formal partnership between her institution and the African Global Chamber of Commerce.

But why does it matter—on a practical level—for women to stand prominently in society across all sectors?

“Women are pillars of local economies,” said Mayor Rohey Malick Lowe—the first female mayor of Banjul, The Gambia—who noted the uncomfortable reality that gender still too often plays a role in excluding women from decision-making circles.

So, how does one overcome such systemic hurdles?

Reverend Janette Wilson offered a clear call: solidarity. Breaking the grip of gender-based gatekeeping requires unified advocacy—and, she emphasised, there are no better advocates for gender balance than women themselves.

As Commissioner Donna Miller of Cook County told the summit, women’s advocacy has the power to reshape budget priorities.

In Africa, where gender disparities can be particularly stark, the issue can sometimes feel overwhelming to those working tirelessly on the ground to effect change. Striking a balance is essential—and rhetoric, however well-intentioned, can at times become a hindrance.

That’s why Ambassador Rama Yade, in her keynote message, chose a different lens. She reframed African women not as survivors, but as builders.

They are not merely enduring hardship; they are actively constructing futures. They can rightfully claim the legacies of leaders like Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf as their own.

Moreover, presidential corridors and global finance boardrooms are not the only places where these builders are found.

One such builder stood firmly at the centre stage during the summit: Professor Florence Muranga.

As Director General of the Banana Industrial Research and Development Center (BIRDC) in Uganda, Prof Muranga led the successful development and introduction of the African Green Banana Tooke—value-added banana products—into the American market.

To ensure continued access for Tooke products in the U.S., her company signed a trade agreement with the African Global Chamber of Commerce—further reinforcing Katherine Franklin’s opening message: partnerships are key. They are the catalysts for progress. They are the bridges to broader impact.

“Our stories heal us, but they also guide communities.”
— Professor Janine

Is the Future Feminist?

According to Mayor Rohey Malick Lowe of Banjul, the answer is yes—“the future is feminist.” As she explained, this framing is more inclusive and strategic than the often-used phrase “the future is female.”

But beyond semantics, something must shift. Concrete action is needed to dismantle the structures that continue to limit women’s full participation in economic life.

Key areas for action include:

• Challenging cultural norms that systematically exclude women

• Expanding access to capital and credit, particularly for women entrepreneurs

• Strengthening intergenerational knowledge transfer to preserve and build on progress

• Shifting perceptions of finance as a male-dominated domain

• Overcoming family resistance to women’s autonomy and independence

Excellence

Above all, Chicago was a celebration—a moment to recognise and honour a cohort of women who lead the field as visionary builders. Their achievements reflect the summit’s core mission:

To build bridges across continents, unlock new opportunities, and empower women to lead with purpose and impact.

The highlight of this celebration was the Global Woman in Finance Leadership Award ceremony, which crowned 14 laureates. According to organiser Dr. Olivier Kamanzi, the women who stepped up to the podium exemplified leadership and mentorship with tangible, measurable impact.

“The Annual Awards recognise exceptional women in finance who demonstrate exemplary leadership and are actively committed to empowering and mentoring other women and young people,” Dr. Kamanzi told The Gazette.

What drives his commitment to the summit and its growing momentum?

“Most women operate in the informal sector and lack access to capital,” he said. “We wanted to bring together successful women and those seeking support—to connect them and create a platform where women can secure the financial tools and mentoring they deserve.”

“When women lead, communities thrive; when women are empowered financially, nations prosper.”
—Dr. Olivier Kamanzi

Roll Of Honour

Among the 2024 laureates celebrated for their outstanding contributions to finance, leadership, and mentorship were:

• Ambassador Rama Yade, Senior Director, Atlantic Council’s Africa Center

• Jackie Taylor, Founder, Black Ensemble Theatre

• Eliza Prendzov, CEO, Prend Capital; President, American Balkan Chamber of Commerce

• Henrietta Wamala, RHIA, Edward Elmhurst Health

• Karen Riva Levinson, Founder, KRL International

• Professor Jeanine Ntihirageza, Department Chair, Northeastern Illinois University

• Agnes Kitumba Netunze, CEO, Arize Kollections Limited

• Courtney Francis, Co-ordinator, African and African American Studies Program, Northeastern Illinois University

• Sheila Dantzler Rugege, Real Estate Broker, Jameson Sotheby’s International Realty

• Stella Kilonzo, Principal Consultant, Development Banking & Capital Markets Executive

• Yasmeen Bankole, Former Regional Director, Office of U.S. Senator Dick Durbin

• Lydia Abana, Executive Assistant to the Chairman, Africa Global Chamber of Commerce (AGCC)

• Sophie Mukasa, Director of Operations, Programmes, and Events, Africa Global Chamber of Commerce (AGCC)

Together, these women represent the power of leadership, the strength of networks, and the future of inclusive finance.

“Africa does not need ‘procedural democracy’ limited to cyclical elections; it needs substantive democracy grounded in constitutional respect, alternation, and institutional counterweights”.

Abidjan | October 22, 2025— Three days before the October 25, 2025, presidential election in Côte d’Ivoire, the world is witnessing a major democratic drift in deafening silence. The absence of a firm reaction from the international community to President Alassane Ouattara’s controversial fourth term and the exclusion of the main opposition candidates reveals a worrying paradigm shift: democracy in Africa is no longer a priority, but a negotiable option depending on the geopolitical interests of the moment.

A Dangerous Precedent Ignored by International Institutions

President Ouattara — brought to power in 2010 with massive international backing after a deadly post-electoral crisis — is now seeking a fourth term, a move widely described by jurists and opposition figures as contradicting the spirit of the 2016 constitution that he himself championed and which set a two-term limit.

Yet neither the UN, the European Union, nor ECOWAS has issued a clear public condemnation of this decision.

Meanwhile, the Constitutional Council has excluded four major opposition figures — Laurent Gbagbo (based on a criminal conviction still contested by his camp), Tidjane Thiam (for nationality issues he disputes), as well as Charles Blé Goudé and Guillaume Soro. For critics, these exclusions effectively predetermine the electoral outcome and strip the vote of credible competition.

The Hypocrisy of Double Standards

The contrast with other African situations is striking. When Madagascar experienced a forceful change of power in October 2025, UN Secretary-General António Guterres immediately denounced an “unconstitutional change”, and the African Union suspended the country. In the Ivorian case, by contrast, institutions have adopted a cautious and diplomatic tone, despite constitutional norms being challenged under the cover of formal legality.

The African Union, which sent a delegation led by Mahamat Saleh Annadif in June to “accompany” the electoral process, issued no substantive criticism. On the contrary, the mission congratulated President Ouattara “for all that he has done”. It limited itself to invoking stability — as if lasting stability could be built on the erosion of democratic rules.

Brutal Repression in General Indifference

The response to protests illustrates the authoritarian hardening. On October 11, a peaceful demonstration against the exclusion of opposition candidates was banned by the Abidjan prefect, then dispersed by force. According to figures published by the PPA-CI, 700 people were arrested. The party also claims that a baby under two years died from tear gas exposure — a claim authorities have not publicly addressed. In the following days, both a gendarme and a protester were killed in clashes.

Among international actors, Amnesty International issued one of the few explicit condemnations, urging the release of detainees and recalling Côte d’Ivoire’s obligations under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. The UN, through its Special Representative Leonardo Santos Simão, merely called for “dialogue,” without naming or condemning the violations reported.

The General Decline of Democratic Values

The Ivorian case fits within a wider continental trend. According to the International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance, 45 countries worldwide — including many in Africa — are in the process of autocratization. In sub-Saharan Africa, 23 of 49 states are now considered “democracies in decline”: regimes preserving electoral appearances while neutralizing alternation and dissent.

Leaders such as Paul Biya in Cameroon, Teodoro Obiang in Equatorial Guinea, or Yoweri Museveni in Uganda have remained in power for decades without significant international pushback. This indulgence toward “constitutional coups” — legal adjustments used to bypass term limits — contrasts sharply with the firmness displayed against military coups.

The Reasons for Calculated Silence

This indulgence is not accidental. Côte d’Ivoire remains a strategic partner of France and the European Union in a Sahelian region where several states (Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger) have turned to Russia. As the AU envoy remarked during his visit, “If Côte d’Ivoire sneezes, the region catches a cold.” Geopolitical stability, it appears, now outweighs democratic principles.

Thus, despite mounting criticism, the Ivorian leadership continues to benefit from muted international reactions. Brought to power in 2010 with strong external support, President Ouattara now displays what several analysts describe as “contempt for international rulings and norms once they no longer serve his political calculus.”

A Disastrous Precedent for the Future

The Ivorian precedent sends a dangerous message: democratic norms apply only when they align with major powers’ interests. A leader can override constitutional safeguards, eliminate main contenders, and repress peaceful gatherings, provided he remains a reliable security partner and maintains a facade of legality.

This diplomacy of double standards undermines the credibility of the very institutions tasked with defending democracy and the rule of law. It fuels a growing sense of impunity and entrenches the idea that leaders may rewrite the rules at will. As one analyst warned, “The UN cannot be a tribunal of hindsight — it must be a consistent and preventive actor.”

The Urgency of Restoring Consistency

Africa does not need “procedural democracy” limited to cyclical elections; it needs substantive democracy grounded in constitutional respect, alternation, and institutional counterweights. That requires continuous monitoring of democratic processes and firm support to civil society, independent media, and oversight bodies.

The Ivorian moment reveals the magnitude of the challenge. If the international community does not quickly restore coherence in defending democratic principles, it will deepen the feeling of abandonment already weakening African people’s trust in global institutions. The recent history of Côte d’Ivoire — where no presidential election since 1995 has produced a peaceful alternation — stands as a warning of what happens when democracy is eroded with impunity.

The current international silence in the face of democratic backsliding in Côte d’Ivoire bodes ill for the continent. It seals the abandonment of the principles that framed the democratic transitions of the 1990s and risks inaugurating a new era in which authoritarian stability is valued more highly than democratic legitimacy.

Political Comeback

Former Congolese president, Joseph Kabila Kabange, has taken a major step back to frontline politics, as he brought together opposition and civil-society leaders under a new platform—Sauvons la RDC.

Kabila presided a two-day conclave in Nairobi, a meeting that concluded with a joint statement and four binding resolutions calling for a united front to “end dictatorship, restore democracy, and reconcile the nation.”

His return to active politics began last May, when he made a surprise home-coming, crossing into the DRC through Goma—a city then partially under rebel control.

That bold move followed months of speculation about his future, and came in the wake of a death sentence issued against him by the Congolese Military High Court. Allies dismissed the martial ruling as “a judicial and political absurdity.”

More than a simple defiance, the Nairobi conclave on 14 and 15 October signals Kabila’s determination to reclaim influence in national affairs after several years of relative silence.

Deep Crisis

The Nairobi declaration portrays the DRC as engulfed in a “deep and multidimensional crisis,” alleging political illegitimacy, economic collapse, and deteriorating security.

Participants denounced President Félix Tshisekedi for “incompetence and irresponsibility,” accusing him of manipulating justice, weakening democratic institutions, and failing to pacify the country’s turbulent east.

The opposition also claimed that the 2023 elections were marred by fraud, enabling the consolidation of an “illegitimate regime.”

They warned that proposed constitutional changes would deepen national divisions rooted in regionalism, tribalism, and political intolerance.

One of the most striking resolutions rejects the military court’s sentencing of Kabila to death, calling the verdict “illegal, null, and void.”

Signatories said the trial was politically motivated and violated both the DRC’s Constitution and international human rights standards.

“The verdict is a direct attack on national cohesion and on the rule of law,” the document states, urging judicial reform and full respect for constitutional guarantees afforded to former heads of state.

The Nairobi Mix

About 30 Congolese political figures attended the conclave, including former Prime Minister Matata Ponyo Mapon and former Senator Moïse Nyarugabo.

Notably absent was Moïse Katumbi, the influential opposition leader and former governor of Katanga, who had been expected to attend.

Martin Fayulu, another major opposition figure and former presidential candidate, said he was not invited, remarking that “real opposition unity must come from inclusivity, not exclusion.”

Kabila’s choice of guests—a mix of former officials, dissidents, and civil-society representatives—underscores his intention to build a structured alliance rather than a loose coalition of personalities.

The conclave officially launched the Sauvons la RDC movement—S.O.S Congo—a framework to coordinate opposition efforts and mobilise citizens.

The platform will meet quarterly under the guidance of Kabila who was designated by participants to serve as its leader.

In his role, he’s tasked with steering the movement “until the complete liberation of the Congo from the yoke of dictatorship.”

“All Congolese, wherever they are, must act each day to save our nation,” the Nairobi declaration reads. “Every gesture will count toward victory and dignity.”

The new alliance also pledged to mount a diplomatic campaign to brief African governments and international partners about “the true nature of the crisis” in the DRC and to press for an inclusive national dialogue under the mediation of the Catholic and Protestant churches (CENCO and ECC).

“Messe Noire”

Observers have questioned the stand of Kenya President William Ruto, current Chair of the East African Community (EAC): What’s the rationale of hosting the Congolese opposition while presiding a bloc that includes the DRC?

As far as critics are concerned, the optics raise concerns about his neutrality as a regional mediator.

Nairobi previously hosted the launch of Corneille Nangaa’s Alliance Fleuve Congo (AFC), prompting a diplomatic row in which Kenya publicly distanced itself from any insurgent activity, insisting it was only providing space for dialogue.

“[The DRC will not tolerate] any attempt to destabilise the institutions of the State, wherever it comes from.”
—Jacquemain Shabani

Kinshasa has protested repeatedly, recalling its ambassador in 2023 and warning that the Kenyan capital is becoming a political staging ground for opposition movements against President Tshisekedi.

The formation of Kabila’s new movement in Nairobi has sparked strong reactions in Kinshasa.

Jacquemain Shabani, the Congolese Vice-Prime Minister and Minister of the Interior, described the meeting as a messe noire—a dark mass—against the Republic.

“Any attempt to destabilise the institutions of the State, wherever it comes from,” Jacquemain Shabani warned.

Authorities have hinted that further diplomatic measures could follow if Nairobi continues to host such Congolese political gatherings.

Analysts say the episode highlights growing tension between two regional powers with competing approaches to peace and governance in the region.

But one thing leaves no doubt: Joseph Kabila is back, and he intends to reclaim a leading role in Congo’s future.

“Solar should be a mainstream solution to energy cost, not an added expense to take on.” — Ikenna Oguguo, Wetility Co-Founder & Chief Product Officer

Johannesburg | October 8, 2025—In a bold step toward making solar energy affordable and effortless, South Africa’s leading integrated energy solutions provider, Wetility, has unveiled One Bill, a game-changing subscription model designed to merge grid and solar power into a single, seamless experience.

Announced at a landmark event in Johannesburg—The Energy Leap: Showcasing the Power of Investment in Innovation—this innovation will usher in a new era in Africa’s journey toward clean energy.

Despite being the most affordable energy source, solar adoption in South Africa remains stubbornly low, with a penetration of just 1% in the residential sector.

At The Energy Leap conference—attended by 200 industry leaders, including UK High Commissioner Antony Philipson, SAPVIA CEO Dr Rethabile Melamu, and IDC Head of Energy Christo Fourie—Wetility highlighted the structural and economic hurdles slowing down adoption.

High upfront costs, technical jargon, and long payback periods have left millions of South Africans trapped between rising tariffs and unreliable supply.

One Bill is Wetility’s answer: a net savings guarantee, wrapped in an easy-to-use platform, that eliminates complexity and upfront financial strain.

“One Bill redefines the electricity experience — simple, smart, and savings-first.” — Ikenna Oguguo

The Promise

With One Bill, each solar system is AI-calibrated to match a household’s energy use, automatically resizing as consumption patterns evolve.

This ensures customers enjoy maximum efficiency and guaranteed savings, without worrying about system sizing or technical management. And gone are the days of “overnight engineers.”

And users may forget juggling between grid and solar providers. Through the Wetility App, they make one monthly payment that covers all their electricity needs.

Using AI and predictive analytics, the system automatically issues electricity tokens from both grid and solar suppliers — ensuring uninterrupted power and zero guesswork.

Smart alerts and real-time monitoring keep customers informed, empowered, and always in control.

Innovation at the Core

At the heart of One Bill is Wetility’s proprietary software engine, merging:

• Big Data Analytics for precision sizing and consumption tracking

• Machine Learning for adaptive system performance

• AI-Driven Decision-Making for automated, optimised billing

This triple-tech approach tackles three of solar’s biggest hurdles:

• Switching Costs simplified via one seamless platform

• Commercial Viability guaranteed and transparent savings

• Customer Experience fully managed, intuitive, and adaptive

The result? A frictionless solar experience—tailor-made for Africa’s evolving energy landscape.

Launching May 2026

Official rollout for One Bill begins on May 1, 2026. Customers—both new and existing—can already join the waitlist on wetility.energy.

Beyond South Africa, Wetility’s ambition is continental. With One Bill, the company positions itself as Africa’s frontrunner in renewable energy innovation, offering a scalable, inclusive model for mass solar adoption.

Leading the Charge

As Africa races to bridge its energy gap, Wetility is lighting the path forward— combining fintech innovation, clean energy, and customer empowerment into one transformative solution.

By delivering guaranteed savings, smart technology, and a single source of truth for all energy use, Wetility is not just powering homes—it’s powering Africa’s sustainable future.

When Alfred Nobel envisioned the Peace Prize, he sought to reward those who had “done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations.” Over the decades, the prize has been bestowed upon leaders for aspirations as much as for achievements. Yet if peace is to be measured by tangible results—agreements signed, wars halted, and hostilities reduced—then Donald J. Trump’s record demands serious consideration.

While he remains a polarizing figure at home, Trump’s presidency and post-presidency have been marked by an ambitious and unconventional brand of diplomacy that has brought adversaries to the negotiating table and, in some cases, to peace deals that once seemed unimaginable.

A History of Aspirational Awards

The Nobel Committee has often awarded the prize in anticipation of peace rather than its consolidation.

• Barack Obama (2009) received it mere months into office, primarily for his hopeful vision of global diplomacy and nuclear disarmament—long before any concrete peace had been achieved.
• Woodrow Wilson (1919) was honored for founding the League of Nations, which the U.S. never joined and which later failed to prevent global conflict.
• Arafat, Peres, and Rabin (1994) were recognized for the Oslo Accords, a breakthrough that raised hope but failed to deliver lasting peace between Israelis and Palestinians.

If those awards celebrated possibility and rhetoric, then fairness demands acknowledgment of Trump’s results—agreements inked, guns silenced, and regional dialogues reopened.

Trump’s Tangible Peace Record

Far from symbolic gestures, Trump’s diplomatic initiatives produced signed agreements and ceasefires across multiple continents:

• The Abraham Accords (2020): A historic normalization of relations between Israel and the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan—bringing direct flights, trade, and diplomatic missions where enmity once reigned.
• Rwanda–DRC (June 27, 2025): Trump’s mediation led to the Washington Accord, which aimed to secure troop withdrawals, establish a joint security mechanism, and create a regional economic integration framework to help ease tensions in eastern DRC.
• India–Pakistan (May 10, 2025): Amid rising border hostilities, Trump’s team facilitated a ceasefire announcement that halted skirmishes between two nuclear-armed neighbors, preventing a dangerous escalation.
• Armenia–Azerbaijan (August 8, 2025): Hosted at the White House, Trump’s summit produced a U.S.-brokered peace agreement ending years of conflict, recognizing territorial integrity, and launching a roadmap for normalization.
• North Korea Engagement (2018–2020): Through unprecedented meetings with Kim Jong-un, Trump opened dialogue and de-escalated nuclear tensions that had reached crisis levels.
• The Trump Gaza Peace and Reconstruction Plan (2025): Announced in September, this initiative proposes a demilitarized Gaza under joint Arab League and UN oversight, massive humanitarian aid, and phased reconstruction linked to the release of hostages and cessation of hostilities. If implemented, it could be the most practical and comprehensive roadmap for Gaza since the Oslo process.

It’s worth noting that President Trump remains one of the few American presidents who never launched a war while in office, and notably sought to bring an end to the three-year Russia-Ukraine conflict.

With just months to go before the presidential election, Congo’s opposition denounces a biased and “criminogenic” process. Faced with Denis Sassou-Nguesso’s determination to cling to power, the question is no longer only who will run, but whether the election can truly embody a democratic choice.

A Declared Will to Unite Forces

On June 1, 2025, eight opposition parties — including Clément Miérassa’s PSDC and Jean-Jacques Serge Yhomby-Opango’s RDD — announced the creation of the Rally of Forces for Change (RFC). This new platform aims to pool resources and put forward a single candidate capable of challenging the incumbent president.

Back in January, the RDD had already called for a collective surge, stressing the urgency of a common project and a shared roadmap to restore the opposition’s credibility.

A Climate of Distrust

During a recent debate featuring Lucien Pambou, Guy Mafimba, and Gombo (the G3M panel), participants voiced deep concerns about the electoral process.

For Lucien Pambou, the electoral calendar itself harbors the seeds of violence and fraud:

“March 2026 is a criminogenic agenda. It undeniably contains the germs of violence and cheating. What can be done?”

Guy Mafimba believes Denis Sassou-Nguesso is merely seeking to stage-manage competition:

“Sassou is looking for a sparring partner to organize a sham election.”

Gombo echoed this view, denouncing “a regime that manufactures convenient opponents to legitimize an election whose outcome is already decided.”

Persistent Obstacles

Despite the momentum sparked by the RFC, Congo’s opposition remains weakened by internal divisions, lack of resources, and what many see as an uneven playing field. The institutional and security dominance of Sassou-Nguesso’s regime, reinforced by successive constitutional changes, remains a formidable challenge.

Added to this is a long history of mistrust among opposition figures themselves, making the prospect of a single candidate still uncertain.

A Crucial Democratic Test

The 2026 presidential election will be a defining moment for Congo-Brazzaville’s political future. Between the desire for renewal expressed by part of civil society and the entrenched power of a long-standing regime, the stakes are high.

Whether the opposition can overcome its divisions and offer a credible alternative will be key in determining if the country can avoid yet another disputed and tension-ridden election.

Background: Sassou-Nguesso’s Long Rule

Denis Sassou-Nguesso first came to power in 1979, serving as president until 1992 when he lost the country’s first multiparty election. He returned to power in 1997 after a civil war and has remained in office ever since. Now in his 80s, he is one of Africa’s longest-serving leaders.

Over the years, Sassou-Nguesso has organized multiple elections — including those in 2002, 2009, 2016, and 2021 — each marred by accusations of fraud, intimidation, and lack of transparency. Constitutional amendments, notably the 2015 referendum, allowed him to bypass age and term limits, consolidating his grip on power.

International observers and human rights groups have frequently questioned the fairness of these polls, pointing to restrictions on opposition candidates, limits on press freedom, and the dominance of state institutions by the ruling Congolese Labour Party (PCT).

As the country heads toward 2026, Congo-Brazzaville’s political landscape remains defined by the same figure who has shaped it for nearly half a century.

Timeline: Denis Sassou-Nguesso in Power

• 1979 – Becomes president of Congo-Brazzaville.

• 1992 – Defeated in the country’s first multiparty election.

• 1997 – Returns to power after a civil war.

• 2002 – Wins presidential election amid allegations of fraud.

• 2009 – Re-elected in another contested vote.

• 2015 – Constitutional referendum removes term and age limits.

• 2016 – Wins re-election, opposition denounces widespread irregularities.

• 2021 – Secures another term at age 77, boycotted by major opposition figures.

• 2026 – Prepares to run again, facing a fragmented but mobilizing opposition

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A video falsely attributed to the BBC, circulating on WhatsApp, depicts a deepfake of U.S. President Donald Trump allegedly endorsing M23 rebel leader Corneille Nangaa and the group’s plan to march on Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).

The video claims Trump made these remarks during a meeting with U.S. governors, announcing on Nangaa’s behalf that M23 would reach Kinshasa by June. However, an investigation by the African Gazette has confirmed the video is entirely fabricated.

Key Findings

• Deepfake Indicators: The video bears clear signs of manipulation, including mismatched fonts and logos inconsistent with BBC standards. The robotic audio tone further highlights its inauthenticity.

• No Media Coverage: Neither U.S. media outlets (including the extensive VOA language services) nor BBC platforms reported any such statement by Trump, which would have been widely covered if true.

• Official Records: Our review of the referenced Governor’s Working Session on 21 February 2025 found no mention of the DRC or M23 rebels.

Context

The M23 rebel group, active since 2012, has resurged in recent years under its military commander Sultani Makenga and political leader Corneille Nangaa.

The group has captured key territories in eastern DRC and is threatening to advance on Kinshasa.

The fake video praises Nangaa as a symbol of courage, attempting to legitimise M23’s actions amid heightened tensions between DRC and Rwanda, which Kinshasa accuses of backing the rebels.

Deepfake Analysis

The video’s attempt to mimic BBC News fails due to poor graphic design and the absence of BBC’s “Content Credentials” metadata system, which verifies authentic content.

Additionally, the inclusion of Fox News branding mid-video further undermines its credibility.

Experts identified typical deepfake traits such as inconsistent visuals and AI-generated audio.

The content was cross-checked against official sources, confirming it as disinformation.

Bottom Line

Donald Trump did not endorse M23 or its leader Corneille Nangaa. Nangaa remains under U.S. sanctions for undermining democracy and collaborating with M23 rebels.

Current U.S. policy opposes M23’s activities, making the claims in the deepfake video baseless and misleading.

“If you haven’t read hundreds of books, learning from others who went before you, you are functionally illiterate—you can’t coach and you can’t lead.” These are the words of United States Retired Marine Corps General James Mattis. An unyielding pronouncement on many people I happen to know.

Among us Africans, there’s a well-known joke of this variance: “If you want to hide something from [Africans], all you have to do is hide it in a book.”
It’s too sweeping to be universally true. But as a joke, it’s a self-deprecating one, and it underlines a mindset that has no place in 2025.

The world is changing at a rapid pace. Artificial Intelligence is here to stay, and it is disrupting industries as we know them—AI is taking over many jobs human beings were paid to do.

To outpace the machine, we Africans—especially the African youth—have a long way to go in seeking knowledge and applying it through the development of skills. Venturing beyond the classroom into the depths of books is a call we can’t afford to ignore.

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To put things in perspective, the post-colonial generations are ageing. The knowledge and skills that once worked for them are no longer up to date—they are out of touch with current times.

The only way for us to remain relevant, at home and on the world stage, is to make an unwavering commitment to reading books. For books introduce us to new ideas.

And new ideas give us different mindsets; they expose us to diverse perspectives, which—in turn—help us make better decisions for better outcomes.

The alternative to books is direct experience. But we only have one lifetime. Besides the fact that direct experience may be costly, we simply do not have enough time to reinvent the wheel as often as needed. This leaves reading as a practical necessity.

Books prevent us from learning the hard way through mistakes we could have avoided; they help us learn at minimal cost from the wealth of human experiences—from both the living and the dead.

“Books, in all their variety,” Winston Churchill once said, “offer the human intellect the means by which civilisation may be carried triumphantly forward.”
Churchill knew what he was talking about.

When King George VI gave his royal assent to form a government amid the war, Winston Churchill was 65 and had been written off due to political and military failures.

He could have focused on his dismal circumstances and sabotaged himself. But Churchill had been a devoted reader. Beyond his own record, the new PM could draw from ideas, perspectives, and experiences he had gleaned from a million pages.

ALSO FROM CLAIRE

Books made Winston Churchill the right person at the right time when his country was in dire need of an inspirational leader. Books served the British wartime Prime Minister well.

We may be no Churchill, and our circumstances may have nothing in common with leading a country through a Nazi blitzkrieg. But the principle remains—reading is formative, it’s character-building, it shapes destinies.

So, though every up-and-coming African leader may face a multitude of challenges, they can confidently rely on the knowledge that a commitment to reading will make them the right person at the right time, in the next chapter of Africa’s development. Provided they allow no excuses.

Personally, I am a super busy working mom of three young kids under seven. I have committed to reading 12 books a year. Not really a daunting challenge—the current state of technology presents us with multiple ways of reading books.

I consume audiobooks while doing house chores or driving around. And that’s me. You can come up with your own innovative ways to read books.

At any rate, this is the bottom line—there is no excuse for being functionally illiterate. “You will be the same person in five years except for the people you meet and the books you read,” Charlie Jones tells us.

And there is in Jones’s words a practical piece of advice that you would do well to take to heart.

2025 is an electoral year in Côte d'Ivoire: unless there’s any unforeseen, major disruption, voters will head to the polls on 25 October for the first round of the presidential election.

In the lead-up to this crucial event, a contentious decision by the country’s Independent Electoral Commission (CEI) is now threatening to destabilise the entire process.

The issue at hand is clear: the CEI has announced that the revision of the electoral roll—a critical step to ensure a fair and credible vote—will not take place before the election, but only after. Of course, a revision after election day defeats its very purpose.

Understandably, the move by the CEI has sparked widespread alarm. It raises serious questions about the transparency and inclusivity of the upcoming poll, heightening fears of sociopolitical unrest.

Exclusion

The revision of the electoral roll is not a mere formality; it is the backbone of any democratic election. It ensures that new voters are registered, and it purges the electoral databases of any deceased or ineligible individuals.

If the CEI presses ahead with its plans—denying a timely update of the register—the presidential election would exclude significant portions of the electorate.

The many at risk of disenfranchisement include young voters. Citizens who turn 18 after the last revision in late 2024 will be denied their right to vote.

Also, those who have moved to new areas will be unable to cast their ballots in their current polling districts. And what about voters with errors in their records?Without corrections, they may find themselves barred from casting their ballots.

As it happens, the CEI's decision is bound to result in exclusion, undermining the very principle of electoral fairness. And this is the trouble:

A democracy cannot function when a substantial segment of its population is denied the right to choose its leaders, which is why the CEI’s decision faces strong resistance.

The Opposition and civil society groups have been quick to condemn it, calling it a deliberate attempt to manipulate the electoral process.

As many have rightly argued, an outdated electoral roll not only casts doubt on the credibility of the election, but also sets the stage for disputes over the results. And the related risks are serious.

An unrevised voters’ roll could include duplicate entries, fictitious voters, and even the names of deceased individuals. That would create opportunities for rigging the vote.

If a significant portion of the electorate feels excluded, the next president could face immediate challenges to their mandate, weakening their authority from day one. Then, there’s the prospect of violence and instability.

Côte d'Ivoire’s recent history is a stark reminder of how disputed elections can spiral into post-electoral violence, with devastating consequences for the nation.

Already, some political parties are threatening to boycott the election, while grassroots movements are mobilising to demand an exceptional revision of the register before election day.

Accountability

The commission’s decision to delay the revision of the electoral roll is a dangerous gamble that could plunge the country into chaos.

But a post-election crisis is not an inevitability. To avert it, the CEI and the Ivorian government must act swiftly to make things right.

Organising an exceptional revision before October 2025 is not just a technical necessity—it is a moral imperative to safeguard the integrity of the election.

The international community, which has a vested interest in the stability of Côte d'Ivoire, should also step in. Diplomatic pressure and mediation could help steer the country away from the brink of disaster.

At any rate, every election in Côte d'Ivoire is a test of the nation’s democratic resilience. The 2025 vote is no exception.

By ignoring calls for an updated electoral roll, the CEI and the government risk repeating the mistakes of the past, potentially plunging the country into another cycle of uncertainty and violence.

The stakes could not be higher. So, for the sake of its democracy and stability, Côte d'Ivoire must ensure that the voice of every citizen is heard—and that begins with a credible and inclusive electoral register.

About The Author

Fabien K. Beugré is the founder of Groupe de recherche Côte d’Ivoire 2.0, a think tank focused on governance and democratic processes. A former Head of Africa Commodities Sales at Barclays London, he combines business development expertise with political insight. Beugré advocates for transparent, inclusive governance in Côte d'Ivoire.

A blindsiding. Yes. Because it’s one of these naughty upsets that Silicon Valley didn’t see coming. In what has been dubbed The AI Cold War, America appeared to be dominating the game, head and shoulders.

America has Nvidia, the presumptive tech leader in the field of AI and machine learning. With its advanced graphics processing units, generative AI chips, supercomputers, and all-inclusive algorithms and platforms for AI modelling, Nvidia has been a darling, more so for the stock markets.

And whatever blessing the company’s brought to America, Uncle Sam wanted to limit who could fully benefit from it.

In October 2022, the U.S. Department of Commerce implemented strict export controls to prevent China from obtaining high-end AI chips, as well as other semiconductor technologies with potential military applications.

While the A800 and H800 chips allow Nvidia to continue doing business in China, the company cannot sell its most advanced technology, potentially giving competitors an opportunity to fill the gap. And that’s where the DeepSeek phenomenon comes in.

The new player burst into the world of artificial intelligence only in recent months, hitting the US app stores earlier last week.

It’s now making waves, not only for its technological prowess but also for its potential to further bridge the digital divide between West and South. But what exactly is DeepSeek, and why is it causing such a stir?

Scrappy Upstart

If you must believe one opinion writer for The New York Times, DeepSeek is a new AI chatbot from a "scrappy Chinese upstart". Meaning that it boasts nothing of the glamour associated with NVIDIA-powered platforms.

On paper, it was not supposed to play in the same league as Silicon Valley big whales like OpenAI's ChatGPT or Google's Gemini from the DeepMind project.

DeepSeek was launched in 2023 by a little-known computer engineering graduate, Liang Wenfeng. It is "owned and solely funded" by Chinese hedge fund High-Flyer, based in Hangzhou, Eastern China. As it is, DeepSeek is not open for public trading—you can't buy shares. At least, for now.

Sole ownership. Not impressive. But scrappy? For sure, that's not the best word for a compliment. But it's not necessarily a slight.

It is for shock purpose—the irony of something this wonderful coming from a place of such little resource. Yes, DeepSeek is really peculiar. Worthy of the curiosity, the attention.

Unlike traditional AI systems, it is built with a focus on adaptability and lean cost—affordable, accessible. That makes it a standout in the crowded AI landscape with its lofty pricing tiers.

We've tested it. It's not everything. And DeepSeek is honest about it. Try it with any technical query, and it's a breeze. But it would not indulge you on queries that solicit the usual Western narratives about China. It goes mute on Tiananmen Square, for example. Smart—it won't bite the hand that feeds it.

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Not unlike Google's Gemini, which bugs on queries with keywords that trigger its suspicion filters. Even "Kennedy" causes Gemini to clam up. You get this type of selective sensitivity on issues that are taboo to China.

But take DeepSeek down the oceans and it goes with you. Up the mountains, and it obliges. Query it about interstellar space, and it spits out a treat for your enjoyment.

And as I learned, DeepSeek's unique algorithms are tailored to address complex problems whilst soliciting a minimum of resources.

Its capabilities range from predictive analytics and natural language processing to machine learning models that can be customised for local contexts.

This flexibility is not why it's such an upset. Ironically, it's because it does so as effectively as those American AI giants.

But what truly sets it apart is its commitment to localisation. Whether it's analysing agricultural data in Swahili or diagnosing diseases in remote clinics, DeepSeek is engineered to serve the underserved.

This formidable "beast from the east" seems to have arrived with an unstated vengeance—handling inclusivity as never seen before, a strong selling point for the expansive markets of the Global South.

Decolonising AI

No, decolonisation in 2024 isn't about some European colonial power telling some natives in territorial possession that they are now independent.

These days, decolonisation is the process of reclaiming agency and reducing dependency on foreign powers with imperialistic instincts and expectations that you meet them on their own rigid terms. How you think, what you value and abhor, the price you must pay... all must be adjusted for fit.

In the context of AI, this comes mainly in the form of linguistic exclusion. Cultural and perspective, as well. AI therefore threatens to become a great standardisation machine. The user trades away a bit of themselves for access.

And it's in this sense that DeepSeek arrives, leading the charge for the decolonisation of AI. It's just a start, of course. But this is how it's significant.

First, DeepSeek's pricing model is designed to suit the budgets of governments, businesses and individuals in developing countries. This makes it accessible to a broader audience, unlike the high-cost solutions offered by Silicon Valley companies.

Then, you have this better localisation, with algorithms tailored to adapt to local languages, cultures and challenges. DeepSeek does not come to you with the assumption that there's some central worldview, with anything else on satellite.

That will cause fewer users, especially in the Global South, throwing up fits in protest at answers to their queries, notably when it comes to global geopolitics.

And this is not the least: internet connectivity and computing infrastructure in many parts of the Global South are not on the leading edge. DeepSeek was engineered with that in mind and allows for efficient operation even in low-resource environments.

As you see, there's a lot there to explain why the U.S. stock markets have got nervous in the last few days with the rising star of DeepSeek.

DeepSeek, What the Hell?

When on Monday 27 January, news of the new kid on the block reached the Nasdaq, the tech index of Wall Street, it took it down a notch—a 3% fall.

For NVIDIA the darling, things were worse. Its stock price nosedived by 17%, wiping out about $600 billion of the company's value.

As a result, Apple and Microsoft climbed back to the top two tiers of the Nasdaq, leaving NVIDIA in the third slot. NVIDIA was only able to outrank Apple and Microsoft because of the AI craze.

Now, with DeepSeek bursting into the AI world with receipts that great results could be achieved with a little budget, investors caught panic.

Could it be possible that AI companies are over-evaluated? OpenAI, for example, pegged at $157 billion. How could it compete and make profit with all the possible DeepSeeks?

Clearly, the disruptive potential of DeepSeek lies in its ability to democratise AI technology, and that is a threat to the dominance of Silicon Valley's tech giants.

The President, on getting the news about the Chinese bot, spoke of a wake-up call and urged American companies not to sleep at the wheel.

The Nasdaq has now recovered. It would have been just a blip. But the past week brought something deeper: DeepSeek is reshaping market dynamics and creating new opportunities for growth in regions that have historically been underserved by Western tech companies.

The questions it has raised about the sustainability of high-cost AI models will stick around. And volatility will hang there in the market.

The Straight Talker

Donald J. Trump has a trait that’s uncommon in politicians. He’s a straight talker; he speaks his mind. Sure, he may launch into one of his signature weaves. But when he’s done, he always leaves you with no doubt as to where he stands on the issue at hand.

The professional political entrepreneur who prospers on ambiguity would find him to be frustrating. Because Trump’s candour puts him to shame; it reminds them that they’d dread it if their own thoughts were spoken aloud.

A Nigerian investigative journalist, known for his criticism of the Biden Administration’s foreign policy, sees an advantage in having Donald Trump back at the White House: “Friends and foes do not have to second-guess Uncle Sam; they'd know what he is up to.”

Trump is more signal than noise when it comes to where he wants to take America. Because the man is transparent in that regard, there’s little to no mystery about most of what you can expect from his second term.

From immigration to the key issue of the economy, from global security to the climate, from gender identity to free speech, Trump has laid bare all his plans. And there’s no mystery either on his prospective African policy.

Africa does not feature highly in Trump’s America First agenda. And we know it, rather counterintuitively, because Trump has been as silent on the continent as he’s been effusive on China, on Russia and Ukraine, on Gaza, on Europe and Nato.

What we know is substantially informed by the presidential campaign and by what had been Trump’s approach to Africa when he was first at the White House.

Trump’s previous African Policy had been about “advancing U.S. trade and commercial ties with nations across the [continent] to benefit both the United States and Africa.”

It had also been about security—about “countering the threat from radical Islamic terrorism and violent conflict.” But in the personal book of The Donald—when we last checked—Africa is a collection of “shit-hole countries.”

Granted, his view of the continent might have secretly evolved. But the presidential campaign was marked by distinctive fear-mongering against Haitian immigrants. “They are eating the dogs.” Remember that line?

Now, Haiti had the dubious honour of sharing with Africa that Trumpian expletive portrayal, now infamously part of the record of his previous administration.

With an outstanding pledge of mass deportation of illegal immigrants already on American soil, Trump must view Africa as an inconvenient source of potential influx of candidates for the American Dream.

The businessman may have tried hard, or he just doesn’t bother. For sure, there’s no public update from him to suggest a favourable perception of Africa as a place that fits within his MAGA agenda.

Certainly, with a Department of Government Efficiency, DOGE, designed to slim down public spending, the new administration will not be any eager to channel development assistance to African countries.

Quite predictably still, the traditional question popped up after Trump’s victory was announced on 5th November: What will all of it mean for Africa? A somewhat absurd question.

Donald Trump was elected to serve American interests. What Africa expects of him is utterly irrelevant. Also, it assumes that familiar pessimistic gaze; it assumes that Africa remains a somewhat static continent that awaits to be held by the hand, to be assisted, to be commanded.

Trump 2.0 will inevitably frustrate such a stagnant Africa—an image disconnected from the reality of an ever more dynamic continent. In any event, the slogan out there is America First. There’s no Africa in it.

This might be a better way to frame the issue of the prospective US African policy under the incoming administration: Can the United States—in its battle for global hegemony against China, and against the resurgent Russia—afford to be indifferent to Africa?

A “New Centrality”

The Senegalese-born former official of the French Government, Rama Yade, is right when she argues that much has changed in Africa since Donald Trump left the White House in January 2021.

“African nations have an ace up their sleeve,” Ms Yade writes in a piece for the Atlantic Council. But what’s that ace? Well, it’s what the ex-diplomat calls a “new centrality on the world stage.” It’s the notion that African countries are highly courted partners around the world.

The result is that Africa has options that were unavailable under the solid unilateral world order, the world of Bretton Woods’ dominance led by the U.S.—that world where the BRICS were barely a concept.

If only because of Trump’s stated desire to maintain the US dollar as a trusted global reserve currency, it would be deluded on his part to confine Africa to the same old clichés.

As Apple CEO Tim Cook would know, the business model of Silicon Valley would be unsustainable without Africa and its rare minerals—whether stolen or otherwise. And the point here is that Africa, as a land of vast natural resources, is not a myth.

And with a population projected to reach 2.5 billion by 2050, the continent is a vast market, a last frontier for economic growth—one waiting for a shift of vision: a break away from dependence on foreign aid in favour of more sovereignty, more industrialisation, more trade with its global partners.

That’s a fact every European power has understood since the 17th Century. And Emmanuel Macron of France knows why America under Trump must avoid the amateur mistake of thinking of Africa as little more than a “shit hole.”

Certainly, it’s a fact well understood by China, by the BRICS. And that’s why Africa is centre-stage in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). And do you remember the goal of the BRI?

The so-called New Silk Road is designed to serve Chinese global hegemony, while breaking with the tradition of militarism that’s been so dear to the U.S., known for its thousand army bases worldwide and its foreign military interventions.

Military interventions don’t sell in Africa today. Africans, mainly in the Sahel, will remember for a long time to come the havoc wrought upon their region by Barack Obama’s and Hillary Clinton’s destruction of Libya.

Now, contrary to America’s past use of brutal force to reshape the world according to its interest, the New Silk Road sells a vision of a peaceful and brighter future for all—for China, Asia, Africa and for Europe.

To that end, it pushes for regional connectivity through economic cooperation. Admittedly, some Western analysts see “the project as a disturbing expansion of Chinese power.”

And the U.S., beyond the usual talk of fighting global terrorism, which seems to justify the expansion of its global network of military bases, “has struggled to offer a competing vision.”

Militarism, for sure, isn’t how America will effectively ensure that its dollar remains the world’s currency. It is well and good for hawkish American senators to wax American might.

But for the rest of the world, America has to offer value. And militarism or indifference won’t be how Uncle Sam retains any relevance for Africa, the continent of unbounded resources, the last frontier for economic growth.

And with a future bank of the BRICS, with a future BRICS currency—in other words, with viable competition against the Bretton Woods system and the US dollar—it’s utterly bonkers for any administration in Washington to take Africa for granted.

Like most things about Africa, the notion of the continent as a collection of shit-hole countries—a continent that only contributes illegal migration and diseases to the world—is a colonial stereotype.

A new world order is upon us. If Donald Trump fails to take notice of it, Ms Yade would be right that his America First agenda may take a backseat to an Africa First renaissance—all to the advantage of America’s rivals on the global stage.

So, beyond old-fashioned militarism, beyond stereotypical contempt, what’s the type of US African policy that would make Uncle Sam a relevant player on the world’s last frontier of economic growth—Africa?

Turning Point Africa

There are a few African countries where the leaders are still rather conservative in how they view their relationship to Western powers—one of quiet deference. Ivory Coast, for example. Or even Nigeria—a country whose president is accused of being a CIA asset.

They may criticise the West, but only out of lip service to their impatient populations. In reality, these client heads of State thrive on Western paternalism. And for Conservative Africans, an indifferent United States would be bad news.

It leaves them exposed to possible winds of internal accountability, to the prospect of popular revolts. And Kenya’s budget riots of last year is such a cautionary tale.

Then, there is the other Africa. Turning Point Africa, as you may call it. And you may look to the Sahel to understand the nature of it. In Turning Point Africa, there’s been a progressive awakening of the masses to the failures of imitation.

More than 60 years of independence, under simulacra of democracy, yielded little but despair. The once-tolerated corruption of urban elites turned unbearable when the violence of armed groups came to add up to widespread poverty.

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In these countries, globalisation is now a dirty word. Democracy seemed to have only created a marginal peace for the exploitation of Africa’s natural resources by foreign companies that ship out all proceeds, barely paying taxes, mostly paying bribes.

Much like the MAGA crowd that has been instrumental to Trump’s victory, populations in Turning Point Africa want Africa for Africans first. Immigration to Europe or America—where they would be undesirable, scapegoated by far-right political activism—isn’t attractive.

The Sahel’s response to America’s Donald Trump has been the rise to prominence of military leaders in Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso; the election in Senegal of the youngest president ever.

Like Donald Trump and his MAGA base, these are patriots. They want control of their own destinies—more independence, more sovereignty, more freedom to trade with any global partner, under a win-win deal.

They want to be left alone to cherish their local cultures and customs—free from ideological imperialism, free from godless post-modern norms that happen to be fashionable in America or Europe.

Like Donald Trump and his MAGA base, Turning Point Africa—and the whole new Pan-African movement behind it—is vilified. Their rejection of unbridled globalism threatens a world order that has confined Africa to the role of provider of natural resources and passive consumer.

Western critics, media pundits and academics, dismiss them as a “danger to democracy,” even though 40 years of Western-style democracy did little for these impatient Africans.

Then comes Donald Trump with a brand of patriotism that mirrors the aspirations within Turning Point Africa; Trump with his talk of doing more business with the rest of the world, rather than starting or funding wars there. And why does that matter?

“Since China is hellbent on capturing Africa as a business destination,” one professor of international relations told a US news outlet, “Trump will come to Africa not so much because he cares about Africa but because he’s coming to counter Chinese influence on the African soil.”

And as a practical businessman and as a global peace-maker, Trump could only come pushing trade, which would be to Africa’s advantage.

With Trump’s focus on boosting US domestic production as part of his America First agenda, he will need to “import a lot of raw material from all over the world.” If anything, Africa would be there to offer minerals.

Beyond trade, however, Trump’s conservative positions on social issues endear him to Africa. From Senegal to Mali, from Burkina Faso and Niger to Uganda and Ghana, Africans have been impatient with the Democrats’ impulse of exporting certain post-modern values, such as the new LGBTQ+ order.

Nothing makes an African leader more popular than standing up to values viewed locally as disruptive, as colonialist and as antithetical to African traditions. In fact, China has been charming to Africans exactly because Chinese diplomacy does not centre any ambition of substituting African values with their own.

Now, Donald Trump is an avowed “anti-woke” president who advocates a return to more traditional values. And Ms Yade makes a good point when she says, “this would resonate positively” in several African countries where it’s criminal to push any LGBTQ+ agenda.

So, what’s the bottom line here?

Within the grand scheme of global geopolitics, Donald Trump’s personal views on Africa would come to matter less. If only for the sake of taking the competition to China, Trump can’t afford to sneer at Africa, a continent with such obscene reserves of strategic resources.

In any event, less direct U.S. intervention could potentially allow more autonomy for African nations to shape their own economic and political futures. But Donald Trump may yet be the U.S. president whose African policy would turn out to be popular with this generation of Africans—Turning Point Africa.

Personality of the Year

The factors of the current awakening in West Africa are not easy to place. Sure, an ageing political class with a timid conception of African sovereignty has slowly been on the wane, bowing out.

Sure, the children born in the 1990s when Africa was told at the Baule Conference that democracy must be its future are now grown. Both must count for something. But the upheavals that have led to this moment didn’t happen overnight.

Fifteen years ago, the children of the great democratic promise noted with disappointment that the golden anniversary of the Continent’s ascent to independence was a hollow event. Africa seemed to have walked backward in those 50 years it had supposedly been free from European colonial powers.

In the face of political corruption and electoral violence and economic fraud; in the face of growing poverty, of the recurrent and dismal spectacles of African migrants drowning at sea in their attempt to flee to Europe, the children of the great democratic promise of the 90s knew something had to change.

The decade that would follow the golden independence jubilee would be marked by intense political activism. It was led by rap and reggae artists, by firebrands both of the civil society and opposition parties. There were rowdy riots; there were scenes of police gassing protesters.

During that decade, you would be hard-pressed to crown a Personality of the Year from the ruling class. But fast forward to the last three years, when the thirst for actual change became too strong to contain.

Rising against their respective circumstances, impatient youths risked their lives to impose a new political order across several of the former French colonies in West Africa.

Either by the barracks or the ballots, the old political guards were railroaded into retirement. Africans have punched through the smokescreen of false independence. And back to first principles, they resolved to wade through chaos to secure true sovereignty—monetary, military, economic.

All is still in flux. But a look at the sheer political willingness of the new leadership in the region would deliver many choices for the crowning of a political champion.

We at the African Gazette have witnessed unusual patriotism across the region. Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso, Chad, etc: Picking a Political Personality of the Year wasn’t an ungrateful task in 2024. But who was it then for us?

Well, all the leaders of the embattled Federation of the state of the Sahel were rightful contenders. Yes, Ibrahim Traore of Burkina Faso, Assimi Goita of Mali, and Niger’s Abdourahamane Tchiani.

But they have been around for quite a while now—they were not revelations of the last year, unlike the tandem of Bassirou Faye and Ousmane Sonko.

And that’s the criterion on which the President and Prime Minister of Senegal are our political personalities of 2024. And you may agree with the reasons why.

Electoral Upset

The story of President Faye’s ascent to power will perhaps come to be told as a legend many years from now—the story of the man who went from the penitentiary to the presidency within a matter of one week.

And this is what makes it even more impressive: He had never held public office before, and had even lost a mayoral race in his native town a couple of years earlier. But President Faye will forever share the credit of his stunning electoral upset with his Prime Minister Ousmane Sonko.

As we reported at the time, Faye gained prominence as a close associate of Sonko, a former tax inspector and opposition leader who faced legal troubles.

Because of the said legal troubles, Sonko was barred from running in the presidential election. His party fielded Mr Faye as his stand-in. All that happened while they were behind bars.

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Their imprisonment further fuelled a social unrest that had rumbled episodically for almost the previous four years. The anger and resentment towards the government were at an unprecedented height.

As the two lingered in prison, they were embraced by the electorate as symbols of resistance against injustice and corruption within the country's political elite.

Their popularity soared as disaffected civil servants and ordinary citizens considered them more than ever as the ultimate embodiment of hope.

Their campaign, funded largely by the Senegalese diaspora, garnered significant momentum and culminated in that landslide victory with 54 percent of the votes. And taking the oath of office, Bassirou declared:

“I’m aware that the results from the ballot express a deep desire for systemic change. Through my election, the Senegalese people have engaged in the construction of a just Senegal, a prosperous Senegal.”

In under a year, the new administration—against the doubts of naysayers, and despite some inevitable political faux pas—made sure to keep the hopes alive; in under a year, Faye and Sonko made sure they have something to show for their election.

Action, Action, Action

“Senegal is an independent country, it is a sovereign country, and sovereignty does not accommodate the presence of foreign military bases.”
—President Faye

Senegal’s ruling tandem has hit the ground running, as the President and the PM lost no time in getting to work. Change was the promise. It requires paperwork, and action. But in some cases, change happened by the very fact of the transition of power.

The tension across the country, the months of social unrest, dissipated immediately after Bassirou Faye took the oath of office.

Those internet blackouts, the political imprisonment, the repeated breach of free speech—all overnight—became the stuff of the past. And one direct positive fallout of this systemic improvement of the social atmosphere was a pick-up in tourism as the summer kicked in.

Then the executive decisions started rolling. The voters who went to the polls for change are told the government would operate in full transparency: ministers would actively account to the public for their actions; reports from the National Office Against Fraud and Corruption will be published for all to see.

As a result of this commitment to transparency, officials soon reported something that most Senegalese already suspected:

An inspection into the finances of the last administration uncovered widespread corruption. And because further investigations are pending, Macky Sall—the former President—and his ministers find themselves today worrying about the prospects of prosecution.

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Of course, punishing fraud after these years of messy governance is a popular thing to undertake. But what did the government do right away to signal its duty of care to the common folk?

Well, in a move to ease the hardships of the masses, Mr Faye and his PM went to war against sky-rocketing food prices, enacting measures to bring them down. Along the way, they authorised the repayment of outstanding debts to farmers, and the distribution of seeds and fertilizers to eligible recipients.

The new leadership seems to have constantly kept an eye on the clock as the ticked items on its to-do list for the last year extends all the way to include such initiatives as the Set Setal national clean-up day. Yes, the new Senegal should be garbage-free and a country of active citizenship.

And in the new Senegal, the government would demonstrate that public institutions really belong to the people, and that through a sustained engagement between ministers and citizens. There must be a popular understanding of the issues affecting the nation.

But what have the political tandem achieved by way of asserting Senegal’s sovereignty?

For a while, some admirers began to fear that Mr Faye and Sonko’s pledge to usher in a new form of relationship with France—the former colonial master—must have run into the harsh realities of realpolitik.

As opposition leaders, they had made it a brand of their political communication to regularly lambast what they perceived as the persistent colonial attitude of France towards African countries. The patronising had to stop.

The two men vowed to end France’s military presence in Senegal, and to reform (and ultimately do away with) the CFA—the carry-over currency from the colonial era. Also, they waxed angry at Western efforts to export certain values deemed incompatible with Senegalese culture.

Then, Faye—visiting France twice, in June and August 2024—peeped no word of these familiar talking points. Meanwhile, he took up a mediation role within the regional grouping Ecowas, in a bid to convince the break-away AES countries to return.

The obvious problem is that those countries—Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger—walked away because they suspected the Ecowas to have been captured by France for the sake of advancing its neo-imperialistic agenda. So, had France succeeded in turning around the Senegalese patriots?

Apparently, no. Faye and Sonko—loyal to their campaign pledges—are moving for the consolidation of their country’s sovereignty.

On Friday, 27 December 2024, as one of the last decisions of the government, Mr Sonko told the nation via the National Assembly: “The President of the Republic has decided to close all foreign military bases in the very near future.”

That was a formal reassurance in a formal setting. Anything less and the sceptics would have gone on with venting their premature disappointment. The promise to break with the Françafrique tradition was a key aspect of Sonko’s and Mr Faye’s mass appeal; sovereignty was one of their central political argument. Nothing less would have done.

Otherwise, President Faye had reasserted a month earlier that Senegal is an independent country; that it is a sovereign country; and that sovereignty does not accommodate the presence of foreign military bases.

And thus ended a busy year for Senegal’s political duo. As they headed into 2025, the President and the PM knew that their countrymen who voted for change may now be impatient to see a real impact on their daily lives. The honeymoon might now be over—in 2025, reckoning awaits for the two young leaders.

“I live by my grandfather Saverio Nayigiziki counsel: Neither the misfortunes nor the blows of life, nor marriage, nor age, nor even fatherhood could calm me down. I am always a big child, a dreamer, and a runner of mountains and valleys.”

Against All Odds

During the 1980s, less than 50% of children diagnosed with HIV survived. And this is why: the limited treatment options, and the aggressive nature of the AIDS disease at that time.

Many children died before reaching their 5th birthday. I am one of the luckiest; I am one of the children who survived. And I have many reasons for celebration today.

In his book, Four Thousand Weeks, Oliver Burkeman explains that human beings in average live 80 years. That’s roughly 4,000 weeks. Burkeman reminds us that life is short. Now, should we not make the most of our finite existence?

As far as I’m concerned—given the death toll of children diagnosed with HIV at the time I was an infant born with the virus—I am celebrating that I have lived half of life’s marathon. At 41, I am a lifetime AIDS survivor; I just ran past 2,000 weeks, the halfway of this marathon.

Apart from the invisible HIV virus, I am an award-winning writer. I’m a scientist, an artist, an activist. And I’m a mother of three healthy children.

Like any adult, of course, I’ve had my share of sad and happy days. But I live by my grandfather Saverio Nayigiziki counsel:

“Neither the misfortunes nor the blows of life, nor marriage, nor age, nor even fatherhood could calm me down. I am always a big child, a dreamer, and a runner of mountains and valleys.” I sure came a long way.

My parents were upper middle class. They were educated young people with jobs that paid well. Everything was laid out for me to succeed. And this is why that detail is important: It debunks those tales that HIV and AIDS only affected people with no formal education, and those in the low-income bracket. To me, that didn’t apply.

After I was born, my mom and I were always sick. At the time, the medical profession believed that HIV only affected men who had sex with men—AIDS was believed to be a scourge for the gay community.

Fifteen months after my birth, my mom had my young sister. Given that I looked malnourished, the healthcare providers advised her to continue breastfeeding me, while giving my young sister cow milk. Mum never recovered from her two consecutive pregnancies.

Her health—and mine as well—continued to deteriorate until we were both diagnosed with HIV in 1988. The same year, my mom died from AIDS-related complications. I was five years old.

The paediatrician told my dad there was no treatment for AIDS; that there was no way I was going to live beyond the next two years.

My widowed father, left with two kids who were respectively 5 and 3, vowed to give me the best years of my life. He did everything to make me happy. For him, every day was the last day. And I’m grateful he could afford to be there for me.

My Dad was the mayor of our city. People say he spoiled me. But it paid off in good ways—My Dad always told me I was beautiful; I grew up believing I could do anything I put my heart to.

He paid me to read and summarise news from local newspapers and update him on what was happening in the community. I was in charge of choosing and approving his outfit, his haircut. I brimmed with confidence to see him on telly or at public meetings, wearing the outfits I chose.

Dad called me Madame—the Lady. It made me feel special. In fact, he treated me as special; he would cancel important meetings when I was not feeling well. And all of it seemed of little meaning at the time. But this stuff added up to build in me a great deal of self-confidence and resilience.

But despite all the love, my health was deteriorating. Every single day. I can count how many days I was unable to attend school in person.

My tiny body was a battleground of all kinds of infections: from shingles, skin rashes, chronic pneumonia to weight loss. I looked malnourished, yet I lived in abundance.

Though I was always coughing, was always weak, my dad reassured me that most children outgrow a period of sickness. But to my surprise, I once overheard him tell family members of his fear that I might die alone in my bedroom, and that my ghost would haunt him.

My very first experience with stigma and discrimination came from our own housemaids. They often refused to change my bedsheets and clean my bedroom.

Their excuse was that I talked nonstop—I was too much talk, yet with the size of a BIC pen, a skeleton amid my bed sheet. They were afraid I was a ghost.

At the same time, I often overheard whispers that I had AIDS. And each time I heard those rumours, I reported them to my dad. He would ensure me the rumours were lies. And his own white lies seemed to have helped my spirits.

Just like a Baobab tree—an African tree of life—I made it. I made it against all odds; I am still here, having graduated from childhood to adolescence to adulthood.

I experienced different challenges at each stage of atypical life: I survived the Rwandan Genocide at 11; all my parents and caregivers died when I was 17, and at that age, I became the head of a household; and in my early 20s, I was struggling with those new HIV medications.

The side effects were severe. But I stuck with the prescriptions. And amid the toughness of it all, I was raising my young sisters, and struggled with keeping up with college education. And college was a bit different for me, of course.

Alongside the usual stuff of learning, I started my advocacy work for young people living with HIV. It would take me around the globe. I would meet world leaders, including the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

And in my early thirties, I was an immigrant—I relocated to the United States. And in my new life, I discovered a new challenge—dating with HIV. Tough. But I’m glad I didn’t relent.

At 34, I became a mother in a foreign country, with none of my usual support network. But did I let that break me? Well, here I am in my early 40s, with three children of my own—two boys aged 7 and 5, and an 11-month-old baby girl.

Yes, just like the big African Baobab tree, I have weathered the winds and I am still standing; I abide in a great measure of resilience, the silver lining in the cloud of all these adversities life has thrown at me.

“By putting people first and ‘taking the rights path,’ African leaders can ensure that there are no more new HIV diagnoses among children, and among women in 2025 and beyond.”
—Claire Gasamagera

The Ultimate Conquest

Though I made it and crossed the halfway marathon of life, I am sad that in Africa many young women and children are still being diagnosed with HIV in 2024.

Recent UNADS data sets reveal that in the sub-Saharan African region, women—particularly young women between 15 and 24—accounted for 66% of all new HIV diagnoses this year. And sub-Saharan Africa also accounts for the majority of all children under 15 who were newly diagnosed with HIV.

If nothing is done, I—as a survivor—I am heartbroken that many young people living with the virus on the Continent may not cross the halfway life marathon as I was lucky to have just done. But there’s hope.

In theory, the end of HIV and AIDS is on the horizon. A cure is no longer a hype; it’s within reach. And here are the promising pathways:

1. Gene-Editing Technologies hold the promise of allowing scientists to disable the virus’s ability to replicate and spread. It involves the editing—the modification—of genetic material within the cells.

2. Scientists are developing therapeutic vaccines that could train the immune system to recognise and destroy HIV-infected cells.

3. And Long-Acting Antiretroviral Drugs are being explored as a way to provide an extended protection against HIV.

As it happens, the future looks bright. But we need not wait. Besides these prospective cures, we already have the tools and the technologies and the science to control HIV and AIDS. Among them, we have:

1. Pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP) which is for HIV negative people taking a daily HIV medication to reduce the risk of getting HIV.

2. Post-Exposure Prophylaxis (PEP) grants protection to HIV negative people who can take a combination of HIV medicines to prevent infection, 72 hours after possible exposure.

3. Undetectable equals Untransmittable (U=U) allows people living with HIV to reach and maintain an HIV undetectable viral load, eliminating the risk of transmitting the virus through sexual intercourse.

Unfortunately, these tools and technologies are not enough without a matching energy in care for patients. To make AIDS history, people must be at the centre of any strategy.

HIV- and AIDS-related stigma, discrimination, and criminalisation are still obstacles to proper care. Many countries still have HIV penalty laws and HIV travel bans. Then, we have a host of other factors.

Political instabilities, socio-economic status, environment change disasters, cultural norms, mental health issues, limited resources, unemployment: these continue to make young Africans vulnerable to HIV and AIDS.

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In adopting Put People First as its 2024 motto, the International AIDS Society recognises these outstanding challenges, and is pushing for world leaders to remove barriers that prevent access to prevention, treatment, and care. And it is a message reflected in the theme of this World AIDS Day—Take the rights path.

By putting people first and taking the rights path, African leaders can ensure that there are no more new HIV diagnoses among children and among women in 2025 and beyond.

By putting people first and taking the rights path, they will allow those living with HIV to thrive even in the face of life’s adversities, just like the legendary African Baobab tree.