This renewed partnership, which has been under way for several years, is based on the shared ambition to draw balanced and mutually beneficial cooperation. The Africa-France Summit organized in Montpellier in 2021 opened this reflection by giving a voice to youth and actors from civil society and African diasporas. It is now necessary to amplify this dynamic. The organization of an Africa-France summit in Kenya, a non-French-speaking country, illustrates this movement of openness and the broadening of relations between France and the entire continent.

This Summit is also a call to invest in new areas of cooperation, particularly in the fields of heritage, culture and sport, in order to invent more humane and direct forms of partnership, especially between our youth and our diasporas. This summit highlights creators, athletes, artists and all those who, through their initiatives, are already shaping the relations between Africa and the France of tomorrow.

Strengthening our ties must also rely on the private sector, which creates opportunities and drives growth. This is why President Emmanuel Macron and President William Ruto want to give a strong economic dimension to this meeting, which is opening with a business forum. The aim is to promote a more horizontal approach, where innovation, entrepreneurship and youth play a central role in addressing the continent’s challenges.

But this re-foundation is not only guided by shared interests; it is also a strategic necessity in a changing world.

At a time when international law and multilateralism are being called into question, France and Africa are carrying a common agenda on global issues and a common commitment to international law and multilateralism, as recalled by the Summit between the European Union and the African Union organized in Luanda, Angola in November 2025. This Summit also constitutes an opportunity for France and Kenya to pledge for a better representation of the African continent in global governance, particularly in the UN Security Council and the international financial system.

The Summit offers the opportunity to move forward on concrete priorities: energy transition, sustainable agriculture, artificial intelligence, blue economy or health. These are all areas where French and Kenyan expertise can complement each other and lead to useful, sustainable solutions adapted to local realities.

Moreover, this Summit is a chance to highlight the commitment of France, Kenya and other African countries to stepping up mutual investment and to financing tangible solutions to common challenges.

Beyond the projects and declarations, this meeting must above all embody a shared ambition: to build a relationship based on trust and reciprocity.

Africa and France have considerable assets: dynamic youth, abundant creativity and a common interest to find together solutions to global challenges. By setting them in motion together, we can create a renewed partnership, looking to the future, capable of meeting the expectations of our societies and contributing to a more balanced, more united and more sustainable world.

The Africa Forward Summit being action-oriented, the results of the Summit will contribute to consolidate the ties between African countries and France and build forward-looking partnerships.

(Alexis Lamek is the Ambassador of France to Ethiopia and the African Union.)

Tickets for the friendly between D.C. United and the Ethiopia National Team are not included in Full Season Ticket Packages, however, Season Ticket Members can claim up to four (4) complimentary tickets through Account Manager beginning at 10 a.m. ET. For Members needing additional tickets or would like to explore an upgraded experience, please contact your personal service representative. A presale window for STM’s and Audi Field subscribers will open at 12 p.m. ET on Thursday, May 7. 

“We are honored to welcome the Ethiopian National Team and proud that Audi Field continues to bring together fans and players from across the global football community,” Dr. Erkut Sogut, D.C. United Managing Director of Soccer Operations, said. “Moments like this highlight the unifying power of the game and showcase the passion of fans throughout the world.”

The Ethiopia Soccer Legacy Match was established in 2024 as a growing collaboration with D.C. United co-owner Eyob Joe Mamo, CEO of Capital Petroleum. This partnership is designed to create opportunities to develop future talent in Ethiopia while also bringing soccer events featuring Ethiopia clubs and its national team to Audi Field. 

This collaboration with the Ethiopia Football Federation was spearheaded by Mamo, an Ethiopian native, as part of a continued effort to bring soccer and cultures together in Washington, D.C. In May 2024, D.C. United partnered with the Ethiopia Football Federation to bridge the gap between Ethiopian soccer and invest in it while connecting the Ethiopian community to soccer in the DMV. 

“This collaboration with D.C. United has allowed the Ethiopia Football Federation to create a meaningful platform for players to showcase their talents while also celebrating and bringing together a community through the power of football,” said Eyob Joe Mamo. “We are honored to be part of this as it continues to be yet another example of how D.C. United has fostered the growth of Ethiopian football in the nation’s capital.” 

The Ethiopia national football team, known as the Walia Ibex, has a storied history in Africa, highlighted by their 1962 Africa Cup of Nations victory on home soil. Under the guidance of head coach Yohannes Sahle, who was appointed by the Ethiopian Football Federation in January 2026 for his second tenure leading the national team, Ethiopia recently advanced through the preliminary round of 2027 Africa Cup of Nations qualifying with a 4-0 aggregate victory over São Tomé and Príncipe. Forward Bereket Desta led the Walia Ibex in scoring throughout the 2026 FIFA World Cup qualifying campaign with three goals, including a hat trick in a 6-1 win over Djibouti in March 2025. Other key contributors include forward Abubeker Nassir and Ramkel James, whose goal secured Ethiopia’s 1-0 win over Guinea-Bissau in October 2025. 

(D.C. UNITED)

Kids’ Athletics is an initiative that uses the power of athletics to inspire children around the world to be more active. Since its launch in 2022, Kids’ Athletics Day – celebrated annually on 7 May – has grown into a truly global celebration, reaching 1.3 million children across schools, clubs and communities. Now, to mark the five-year milestone, the goal is to take that total to two million. 

Each Kids’ Athletics Day has offered a new theme and new ways to engage children in fun, inclusive and age-appropriate athletics activities. The 2026 theme celebrates the power of FIVE, highlighting five years of impact and focusing on celebration and connection. This year’s campaign encourages local creativity while contributing to one shared global goal: getting more children moving, more often, through athletics.  

The 2026 campaign kicked off in style as Olympic 200m champion Letsile Tebogo joined 50 local children in his home country of Botswana for a special activation on the eve of the Debswana World Athletics Relays Gaborone 26. In his role as a Kids’ Athletics ambassador, Tebogo encouraged the children as they took part in movement-based activities and relay-inspired challenges. 

Alongside this, the Botswana Athletics Association hosted more than 400 children for a Kids’ Athletics Day festival just outside the National Stadium. The children then had the chance to watch the World Relays in person, receiving tickets from World Athletics and the local organizing committee to ensure they were part of history. 

As well as watching from the stands, several children had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join their heroes on the track in their roles as baton kids. For select 4x400m races including all the finals, the baton kids handed over race batons to each team as they were introduced at the start line. The children were embraced by the athletes as they joined in on team introductions, gave high fives and rubbed shoulders with the sport’s stars. 

As the five-year participation total moves ever closer to the two million target, member federations around the world are logging their activities on the global leaderboard. 

After just six full days of activities during a campaign period that runs from 1-31 May, Uganda is already well ahead with more than 37,000 kids having participated in 22 activations across the country. 

A four-way battle is emerging for the other podium places as Benin, Brazil, Kenya and Venezuela have each already inspired some 5000 children to take part in multiple events. 

Brazil has so far hosted 54 activations across the country, following a campaign led by the national federation. There are more than 80 athletics training centres across Brazil and the training centre with the highest level of engagement will receive recognition from the Confederação Brasileira de Atletismo. 

(World Athletics)

Taken together, these developments suggest a system that is modernizing and gaining momentum. Yet beyond these encouraging signals lies a more grounded question: are these gains truly reflected in the everyday experiences of the people who depend on the system?

Beyond Expansion: The Question of Utilization

A health system’s strength is not only measured by what it builds, but by how effectively it is used and trusted by the people it serves. In this regard, Ethiopia’s experience presents a more complex picture. Despite expanded access, the use of clinical and facility-based services remains comparatively limited in several areas. For example — outpatient service utilization in Ethiopia is generally estimated at around one visit per person per year or less, compared to roughly 1.3 to 1.7 visits per person per year in similar east African countries such as Rwanda and Kenya.

Similarly, the use of advanced diagnostic and specialized services remains constrained. In practice, many patients either delay seeking care until conditions worsen or bypass primary-level facilities altogether, opting to travel directly to hospitals—often at higher cost and with significant delays—due to concerns about quality, equipment availability, and diagnostic capacity.

Child health indicators point to similar patterns. A considerable proportion of children with common illnesses, such as pneumonia, are not brought to formal health facilities, reflecting persistent barriers to care-seeking. These trends suggest that availability alone does not guarantee utilization. Rather, utilization reflects trust, perceived quality, and the overall value people attach to the services they receive.

What Communities Experience?

Evidence from studies conducted across the country – particularly in rural settings-indicates that patient satisfaction levels generally range between 51 percent and 63 percent. While communities often value the physical presence of nearby facilities, their experiences are frequently shaped by recurring challenges such as drug shortages, long waiting times, limited communication, and concerns about quality of care.

These are not isolated inconveniences. They influence whether people return to facilities, recommend services to others, or choose to seek care elsewhere. Beyond formal studies, there is also a growing public perception that the quality of care and professionalism within the system may not be improving at the same pace as its expansion. Whether entirely accurate or not, such perceptions are powerful. They shape trust-and trust ultimately determines whether services are used.

The Human Side of the System

Behind every health system are the people who deliver it. In Ethiopia, many health workers operate under increasingly demanding conditions, with growing workloads and resource constraints. For example, estimates suggest that Ethiopia has fewer than 1 physician per 10,000 people, and while the number of health workers has expanded in recent years, it remains below the WHO’s recommended threshold for adequate service coverage. This imbalance often translates into high patient loads, particularly in public facilities.

At the same time, compensation and working environments have not always kept pace with broader economic realities. Studies and workforce assessments in Ethiopia have consistently highlighted low job satisfaction, high levels of burnout, and concerns about retention, especially in rural and underserved areas. Over time, this creates strain, affecting morale and potentially influencing the quality of care provided.

These pressures are not unique to Ethiopia, but their effects are visible: longer waiting times, reduced provider–patient interaction, and variability in service quality. A system cannot consistently deliver high-quality care if those at its frontlines feel overstretched and undervalued. Supporting and motivating the health workforce- through better working conditions, fair compensation, and professional development – is therefore not a secondary concern; it is central to sustaining progress and rebuilding public trust in the system.

Infrastructure: Expansion Meets Maintenance Challenges

Ethiopia’s expansion of primary healthcare-particularly through health posts-has long been recognized as a major achievement. However, maintaining these facilities over time has become an emerging challenge.

In many areas, facilities are aging, inadequately maintained, and not consistently equipped with functional medical devices. Some health posts, constructed rapidly in earlier phases of expansion, now face structural and hygiene-related limitations that affect their ability to provide quality services. This does not diminish the importance of past investments. Rather, it highlights a necessary shift in focus-from expanding infrastructure to sustaining, upgrading, and ensuring readiness of existing facilities.

Training and Capacity: A Quiet but Critical Issue

Another important dimension-often less visible but equally significant-is the quality of training for health professionals. While the number of training institutions has expanded, ensuring consistent standards in teaching, supervision, and clinical exposure remains essential. Without sustained attention to quality, there is a risk that the system may produce graduates who are less prepared for the realities of clinical care.

Over time, this affects both patient outcomes and public confidence in the system. A strong health system depends not only on numbers, but on competence, confidence, and professionalism.

Progress, Gaps, and the Nature of Change

Taken together, these observations suggest that Ethiopia’s health system is neither simply progressing nor declining. Rather, it appears to be in a phase of transition-one where important gain have been made, but new challenges are emerging that require focused attention. The visible signs of progress-expansion, innovation, and international engagement-are real and important. Yet from the perspective of many citizens, these gains do not always translate into consistent, reliable, and high-quality care. This gap between progress and experience is where the real challenge lies.

Looking Ahead: Centering the Public Experience

This moment calls not for dismissal of progress, but for honest reflection and recalibration. Strengthening quality of care, improving service reliability, supporting health workers, maintaining infrastructure, and ensuring high standards in training are all critical priorities moving forward.

Equally important is placing the experiences of communities at the center of reform efforts. Listening to patients, understanding their concerns, and responding to their expectations are essential for building a system that people trust and use. In the end, the true measure of a health system is not how much it expands, but how well it serves. As Ethiopia continues its journey, the task ahead is clear: to ensure that progress is not only visible-but also felt, trusted, and sustained by the people it is meant to serve.

Contributed by Taddese Zerfu (PhD)

At the same time, such a characterization must be approached with care and balance. Having spent over two decades intermittently in South Africa, I have encountered a society marked not by inherent hostility, but by remarkable warmth and human dignity. Ordinary South Africans, in my experience, are among the most generous and humane individuals one may encounter globally. The problem, therefore, does not lie in the moral disposition of the people, but rather in the narratives that shape perception and public consciousness.

Afrophobia as a Symptom of a Failing Transnational African Project

The Myth of Inherent Hostility

Afrophobia, in this sense, is not merely a social manifestation, it is a symptom of a deeper failure within the transnational African project. It reflects a breakdown in the collective imagination that once sustained Pan-African solidarity. Misleading narratives about the rest of Africa, and about African migrants in particular, have contributed significantly to this condition.

These narratives often portray non-South African Africans as burdens on public resources, particularly in health and education. Yet such claims are frequently overstated or inaccurate. Refugees, for instance, are often supported through international mechanisms, including the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, which provides financial contributions to host states.

The second erroneous narrative pertains to the claim that non-South African nationals are taking jobs from South Africans. In reality, a significant portion of the South African population of African descent remains unemployed, a persistent concern that the government routinely highlights. For individuals who are not South African citizens, securing employment in the formal corporate or financial sectors is virtually unattainable.

Historically, the primary avenue available to other African nationals was access to education sector particularly tertiary education. However, that pathway has since been effectively closed, owing to a combination of leftist ideologies, nationalist sentiments, internal factional dynamics within the ruling party, and related political dispositions. As matters currently stand, African nationals are predominantly confined to participation in the informal trading sector. Even in this limited sphere of opportunity, however, they would likely face considerable challenges were fuller access ever to be extended.

Perhaps the most problematic discourse is the pervasive notion of South African exceptionalism relative to the rest of the continent. Such a narrative is not only ethically tenuous but also analytically flawed. Fundamentally, South Africa is indistinguishable from its continental peers regarding its endowment of human and natural capital.

While South Africa undoubtedly possesses a more advanced physical infrastructure, a historical legacy rather than an inherent superiority. It is essential to recognize that this developmental potential is latent across all African regions. In fact, a persuasive argument exists for the “advantage of the latecomer,” where other African nations may leverage contemporary technological applications and job-creation strategies more agilely than established economies. Consequently, no country or group is in a position to adopt a posture of superiority or complacency.

Equally problematic narrative is the persistent labelling of African nationals as “foreigners” within Africa itself. This terminology is not neutral; it carries the residue of colonial classifications that divided the continent into artificial being and belonging. To describe an African as a foreign national on African soil is to reproduce a conceptual framework that undermines continental unity. Language, in this regard, is not merely descriptive, it is constitutive. It shapes perception, and in doing so, can either reinforce or challenge exclusionary attitudes. The use of the term “foreigner,” as a dominant narrative, is problematic and warrants critical review and appropriate regulatory consideration, not only in South Africa but across the continent.

The nature of Afrophobia is not just about jobs or resources, but an attack on the “African identity” itself

The persistence of such narratives suggests that Afrophobia cannot be reduced to economic competition alone. While concerns about employment and service delivery are real, they do not fully explain the intensity or symbolic nature of the hostility. Rather, what is at stake is a deeper contestation over identity, over who belongs, and on what terms. In this sense, Afrophobia represents not only a social tension but a philosophical crisis of African identity.

The Infrastructure Illusion and The Shadow of Coloniality

South Africa’s economic success is often measured by the proliferation of high-net-worth individuals and a world-class infrastructure, vestiges of a settler-colonial history that meets European standards. Yet, these achievements have failed to trickle down to the majority. This creates a dangerous vacuum where ordinary citizens, struggling under the weight of inequality, are misled into believing they are exceptional compared to their continental peers.

When citizens are conditioned to believe they occupy a superior economic tier, they begin to view fellow Africans not as brothers, but as competitors for a shrinking plate. The reality is that South Africa’s struggles with poverty and governance are inherently African. The “exceptionalism” is an architectural illusion that obscures our shared vulnerability.

To understand the current surge in Afrophobia, we must evaluate it within the “long shadow of coloniality.” There is a stinging irony in the fact that an African immigrant in the United States, Canada, or Australia often finds it easier to assimilate and attain political office than a fellow African in South Africa. In the West, the path to becoming a representative is paved by law, whether systemic abhorrence exists or not. In South Africa, even after obtaining citizenship, running for an office as simple as that of a local councillor remains both a bureaucratic and a social nightmare.

“Postcolonial unfulfilled promise created a paradox: some nations still use the same exclusionary tactics as the colonial regime.”

It is intellectually inconsistent to condemn Western racism while our own “backyard is full of dust.” We cannot champion the rights of the global oppressed while turning a blind eye to the African bodies falling in broad daylight on our own streets. Charity, and justice, must start at home.

South Africa’s own historical trajectory adds further complexity. The country’s democratic transition carried with it a powerful vision of Pan-Africanism and continental leadership. Yet the gap between this normative aspiration and present realities has become increasingly apparent. The tension between national priorities and continental commitments remains unresolved, revealing an internal contradiction within the post-apartheid project.

Migration, often cited as a central issue, must also be situated within a broader structural context. Population movements across the continent are driven by multiple factors, including conflict, governance challenges, and economic disparities. No individual leaves their home without compelling reasons. At the same time, South Africa itself is undergoing economic strain, and like many countries, faces the challenge of balancing domestic priorities with regional responsibilities.

“The contradiction between South Africa’s Pan-African rhetoric and its local realities requires careful examination”

Empirically, migrants constitute a relatively small proportion of the population in South Africa, to be specific, less than three percent  Their participation in the formal economy is often constrained by regulatory and institutional barriers. The perception that they are displacing local workers is therefore not always supported by evidence. More importantly, the informal sector, where many migrants operate, reflects both resilience and marginalization, rather than dominance.

The broader paradox is unmistakable. Across the continent, African states continue to pursue integration through frameworks such as the African Union and the African Continental Free Trade Area. These initiatives envision a future defined by mobility, cooperation, and shared prosperity. Yet, at the societal level, divisions persist, often along lines that mirror the very boundaries these frameworks seek to transcend.

This contradiction is not unique to South Africa, but it is particularly visible there. It invites a deeper reflection on the unfinished project of decolonization. The postcolonial state, in some instances, has inherited not only the structures but also the exclusionary logics of the colonial order, policing borders, categorizing identities, and defining belonging in narrow terms.

At the same time, it is important to recognize that South Africa’s challenges are neither isolated nor exceptional. Across the continent, governance deficits, inequality, and social fragmentation continue to shape migration patterns and public sentiment. Responsibility, therefore, is collective. Afrophobia is not solely a South African issue; it is a continental concern that reflects broader failures of political leadership and institutional coherence.

Moving Beyond the Rhetoric

A necessary shift in discourse is the rejection of narratives that demonise one African country while appreciating another. Such rhetoric resembles President Trump’s remark about so-called “shithole” African countries. This framing is analytically unsound and diplomatically harmful. No African country is inherently beautiful or unattractive. Every nation on the continent possesses its own distinct form of beauty. Economic disparities exist, of course, between poorer and richer nations.

These differences often arise from the degree to which natural resources have been utilised. Africa cannot be meaningfully understood through binaries of “successful” and “failed” states; rather, each country embodies distinct historical trajectories, structural conditions, and developmental potentials that must be engaged with nuance and intellectual responsibility.

In this regard, it is important to recognize that no African country is inherently deficient or exceptional in isolation. Variations in economic performance often reflect differing degrees of resource utilization, governance capacity, and external constraints, rather than intrinsic national shortcomings.

For instance, Somalia possesses significant strategic and economic assets, including one of the longest coastlines on mainland Africa, approximately 3,293 kilometres, alongside substantial arable land and considerable untapped offshore oil and gas reserves. Estimates suggest the potential of up to 30 billion barrels, positioning the country for future energy development, contingent upon stability and effective governance. These untapped resources coexist with industrious and hardworking entrepreneurial communities.

Beyond material resources, however, the most consequential asset lies in human potential. The resilience, adaptability, and entrepreneurial spirit of African societies remain underappreciated dimensions of development discourse. To assess countries solely through the lens of present economic hardship is to overlook both latent capacity and the broader structural forces that shape such conditions. More importantly, such judgments risk dehumanizing populations and reinforcing reductive stereotypes.

A more constructive approach, therefore, is to foreground the intellectual and creative agency of African peoples, the capacity to redefine narratives, generate solutions, and transform constraints into opportunities. Even in contexts marked by fragility, the human imagination retains the power to reconstitute possibility.

It is this dimension, rather than the mere inventory of resources, that should anchor a more balanced and forward-looking discourse on Africa’s place in the world. Even in the most challenging environments, including what might be called “no man’s land,” that capacity endures. Therefore, discourse should move away from hierarchical judgements of African nations. A more constructive approach recognises the potential and dignity inherent in every African society.

The Crisis of Leadership and Accountability

The expectation that the African National Congress (ANC) would serve as a permanent torchbearer for Pan-Africanism has met a grim reality. Since 1994, the ideological clarity and charisma of the liberation movement have faded, replaced by internal contradictions where nationalism frequently stifles continental collectivism.

This leads to a fundamental question of accountability: Who will hold the perpetrators of bad governance in Africa responsible? While African leaders often play leading roles in global diplomatic dramas, many ignore the mass murderers walking freely within our own borders.

Addressing this challenge requires more than rhetorical condemnation. It demands a recalibration of discourse, a re-examination of policy, and a reinvigoration of Pan-African ideals. Civil society, religious institutions, community leaders, and governments must work collaboratively to rebuild trust and foster dialogue. Equally important is the need to listen, to understand the concerns of ordinary citizens while resisting narratives that dehumanize others.

Ultimately, the question is not only how to respond to Afrophobia, but how to prevent it. This requires confronting uncomfortable truths: about governance failures in sending countries, about economic pressures in receiving societies, and about the fragility of continental solidarity. It also requires a commitment to principle, that the dignity of Africans must be upheld everywhere on the continent.

Calling the phenomenon by its proper name is a necessary first step. But naming alone is insufficient. The deeper task is to align practice with principle, and to ensure that the vision of a united Africa is not confined to institutional declarations, but realized in the everyday interactions of its people.

Context Matters for a Balanced and Holistic Understanding

It is important not to overlook the historical context through which South Africans have lived, a history marked by both profound trauma and remarkable resilience. Within this context, the recent legacy of apartheid included systemic isolation, discrimination, and racial and ethnic labelling.

The post-apartheid era has introduced its own complexities policy frameworks such as affirmative action, while intended to redress past injustices, are perceived by some as a continuation of systemic exclusion. This dynamic evokes the principle of “an eye for an eye,” reminiscent of the ancient Babylonian Code of Hammurabi (c. 1790 BCE). Given these deep-seated historical grievances, holding ordinary South Africans to a different moral or behavioural standard may be disconnected from reality.

Conversely, a reciprocal accountability is required from the broader African continent. African countries are not necessarily in a morally superior position to criticize South Africa’s situation. When pointing a finger at South Africa, it is worth remembering that the remaining fingers often point back at oneself. Beyond their professed Pan-African rhetoric, many African nations remain largely isolationist and protectionist.

More concerning still, some African countries practice discrimination, not only against non-nationals but also against their own citizens, through vague forms of ethnic and language-based federalism. Such domestic inconsistencies justify a degree of scepticism regarding the efficacy of frameworks like the AfCFTA, which require a fundamental shift in political and cultural mindset to succeed. When all these factors are considered, by any reasonable measure, South Africa emerges as a relatively safe haven, far from being a place of unmitigated hardship.

Conclusion: Toward a Diplomacy of Dignity

The migration we witness today is a symptom of failed states and fundamental injustice in most African countries. No conscious human being leaves their home unless the environment becomes untenable. African immigrants and displaced persons remain vulnerable to violence and injustice both within Africa and beyond its borders. A recent report indicates that the government of Saudi Arabia has decided to punish over 100 African immigrants by public beheading with a sword.

These African nationals face capital punishment in a legal and cultural environment alien to them. They originally fled persecution within Africa, only to encounter it again in a foreign jurisdiction. In that jurisdiction, they do not speak the local language. They face significant cultural barriers. Their prospects for survival remain uncertain. Silence in the face of such events undermines the very principles of continental solidarity and the protection of African lives everywhere.

If we are to transform the dream of “Africa for Africans” into a reality, we must first recognize that an African national cannot be a foreign national on African soil. We must stop policing the victims of our shared history and start dismantling the colonial mentalities that keep us divided. Only then can we move from a politics of fear to a diplomacy of dignity.

In post-apartheid South Africa, issues of xenophobia and Afrophobia will recur. This will continue unless the government and concerned citizens take collective, pragmatic action. Civil society, elderly communities, religious leaders, the government, AU agencies, and the international community must work together for lasting solutions. The agency of Pan Africanism is not the sole responsibility of South Africa. The African continent at large should shift from a blaming game and act accordingly.

Seife Tadelle Kidane (PhD) serves as Director of the Centre for Governance and Intra-Africa Trade Studies (CGIATS) and President of Africa Speaks with Special Consultative status with the UN-ECOSOC. He can be reached at cdeofthemovement@gmail.com

Contributed by Seife Tadelle Kidane (PhD)

Rallying humanitarian support, Erdoğan’s visit spurred an outpouring of affection for Turkey, with the white crescent and star on red subsequently adorning much of the country. Some Somali children were even named after the Turkish leader. Flash forward nearly fifteen years, and much of the regional and global political landscape has changed almost beyond recognition – as have Turkish geostrategic stakes in Somalia. What followed has been a transformation in kind and scale, spanning military bases and now deepwater drillships, and situated in a broader geopolitical contest for the Gulf of Aden and Red Sea.

Ankara’s engagement has passed through several distinct phases over the years, shifting from soft power and humanitarian diplomacy through infrastructure management to becoming Mogadishu’s foremost foreign allytoday.

Since Erdoğan’s visit, Turkish soft power has proliferated, with thousands of Somali students in Istanbul or Ankara, the Mogadishu elite holidaying in Turkey, and Turkish brands such as Enza Home becoming markers of middle-class aspiration in the capital. At the same time, Turkish companies have assumed control of the management of the Mogadishu port and airport, whilst Camp TURKSOM – Ankara’s largest overseas military base – has facilitated the training of thousands of Gorgor special forces since 2017.

Throughout, Turkey has channelled its support exclusively through the federal government in Mogadishu, a posture that distinguishes it from the UAE – a geostrategic rival of Ankara’s in the Horn of Africa – and Ethiopia, which both have cultivated ties with Somalia’s semi-autonomous regional administrations of Puntland and Jubaland, as well as Somaliland.

Today, it is Riyadh and Abu Dhabi that are grappling for ascendancy over the Red Sea, but in 2017, simmering tensions within the Gulf Cooperation Council erupted into the open, with a Saudi-Emirati-led coalition seeking to blockade Qatar, aligned with Turkey, due to its alleged ties with Iran and various Islamist movements. Though publicly neutral, Mogadishu allied itself with Qatar and Turkey in the fallout– infuriating the UAE, which subsequently broadly steered its considerable financial and military support away from Mogadishu. In this period, however, Ankara was broadly considered the ‘junior partner’ in Somalia for Doha, helping to steer patronage and aid on Qatar’s behalf.

Drill, Baby, Drill

During Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s second administration, though, it is Turkey that has stepped into the fore, with the more recent prospect of hydrocarbon extraction marking the most significant expansion of the Somali-Turkish relationship to date. Though a NATO member, Turkey has simultaneously taken an increasingly assertive posture across the Middle East, North Africa, and, more recently, the Horn. And as part of this independent foreign policy, Ankara has similarly sought to diversify its reliance on hydrocarbon imports from Azerbaijan, Iraq, Kazakhstan and Russia, significantly expanding its domestic extraction capacity in recent years.

In turn, the decades-old promise of oil and gas – onshore and offshore – in Somalia has proven particularly enticing to Ankara, with the two countries striking a rapid deal in early 2024 for Turkey to exploit Somalia’s latent resources. For its proponents in Somalia, it offers the realisation of a long-awaited dream, with seeps of oil first formally identified by British and Italian geologists in the colonial era. Agreements with Chevron and Shell in the 1950s never translated into formal extraction, and the collapse of the Somali state in the early 1990s – leading to decades of persistent instability and conflict – has left the reserves untapped. And they are believed to be substantial, with more recent seismic studies suggesting around 30 billion barrels, around a quarter of the UAE’s current proven crude oil reserves.

Such a Turkish rationale is likely to grow only further amid the conflagration in the Middle East, with the Gulf energy architecture set ablaze in the US-Israeli assault on Iran. The repercussions of this war – and the selective blockade of the Strait of Hormuz – will reverberate through globalised energy and trade networks for years to come, placing fresh urgency on Ankara’s search for self-sufficiency.

However, a number of criticisms from Somali parties have been levied at the lopsided deal, not least that it was rushed through Somalia’s parliament without scrutiny. The agreement came as Mogadishu sought to rally its foreign allies against a promised deal between Ethiopia and Somaliland, for sovereign recognition in exchange for sea access. Though Addis eventually backed away from its pact with Somaliland following Turkish-mediated negotiations with Mogadishu, Ankara is still permitted to recover up to 90% of the cost of Somali oil or gas produced before any sharing of profits, and its state-owned petroleum company is exempt from production bonuses.

Somalia’s royalties, on the other hand, are capped at just five percent. In a country as impoverished as Somalia, there is discernible excitement about the prospect of a transformative injection of oil money, but the nature of Ankara’s bilateral – often clandestine – dealings with Villa Somalia is causing growing concern as well. Furthermore, Somalia’s federal government has been repeatedly accused of monopolising and politicising funds, withholding support for Jubaland and Puntland after they severed relations over its electoral agenda.

But the hydrocarbon deal is moving ahead and, in April, Turkey’s latest deepwater drillship, the Çağrı Bey – the first deployed outside Turkish territorial waters – arrived at Mogadishu Port amidst much pomp and fanfare. Exploratory drilling is expected to begin in the coming weeks at the Curad-1 well-site, 370 km from Mogadishu, at a depth of 7,500 m. Substantial infrastructure will still need to be constructed, but Ankara is making headway.

Turkey’s Growing Military Stakes

In the past two years, the military dimensions of the Somali-Turkish relationship have grown in lockstep, with some considering them a guarantor of Ankara’s commercial stakes. Jets, drones, helicopters, warships and more have appeared in Mogadishu in recent months, showcasing Turkey’s impressive homegrown military technology. Such aerial support, too, has played a role in operations against Al-Shabaab, the jihadist insurgency and Al-Qaeda affiliate that has waged a grinding war against the Somali state for two decades.

The political will of the Somali government, though, is more questionable. Emboldened by its foreign allies’ support, Villa Somalia has monopolistically sought to consolidate power at home, overriding historic guardrails to rewrite much of the Provisional Constitution earlier in 2026 under the guise of restoring direct democracy. Simultaneously, the gradual penetration of Turkish interests and advisors into parts of the Somali state has become considerable, epitomised by the government’s new Islamist-flavoured ruling Justice and Development Party in Mogadishu, having been modelled on Erdoğan’s own movement.

Moreover, the drawing down of a wearied diplomatic corps – particularly the United States and the UN – from Somalia has opened space for such consolidation. In March, during the violent ousting of a regional leader in southern Somalia after he broke ranks with the government’s electoral agenda, Ankara was accused of facilitating his removal with military and fiscal support. Such an assertive role in Somalia’s fraught domestic politics represents precisely the kind of internal deployment that its critics had long cautioned against, and may yet signal Ankara’s willingness to underwrite Villa Somalia’s own controversial adventurism at home.

In the Regional Contest

But Somalia is far from the limit of Ankara’s ambitions in the region, rather a broader platform for them. It was no coincidence that President Hassan Sheikh’s first visit following Israel’s unilateral recognition of Somaliland in late December 2025 – a bombshell development facilitated by the UAE – was to Ankara.

Agreed during his trip and now coming into sharper focus are plans for a Turkish military base in Laas Qoray, located in a contested region on the Gulf of Aden, the strategic, narrow waterway that connects the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean and through which roughly 12 percent  of global trade passes. The Laas Qoray base would serve as a direct riposte to the growing Israeli and Emirati presence in Somaliland, further along the coast. Though a direct armed conflict between Ankara and Tel Aviv remains unlikely, the theatres in which their geostrategic interests diverge – from Somalia to Syria to the eastern Mediterranean – are multiplying.

That rivalry is part of a broader and accelerating reconfiguration of influence across both sides of the Red Sea; a vast, interlocking theatre, in which the fates of littoral states are being shaped by competition between Israel, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Turkey and the UAE. Each state has pursued interests along the Horn’s coastlines and hinterlands, driven by a combination of imperatives, including securing ports and waterways, hedging against hydrocarbon dependence, and divergent views on the role of political Islam.

To date, such external transactional and militarised politics have wrought immense damage on the Horn, deepening pre-existing fissures and fractures from the Somali peninsula to divergences between Egypt and Ethiopia over the Nile water basin, as well as eroding the region’s fragile multilateral peace and security architecture.

Since 2023, the epicentre has been the war in Sudan, effectively a proxy conflict pitting the UAE, principally backing the Rapid Support Forces, against Saudi Arabia and Egypt, supporting the Sudanese army, with an array of African and Arab states behind either party. Within a divided Somalia itself, the Puntland government has been accused of allowing Abu Dhabi to smuggle weapons through Bosaaso airport, whilst the Sudanese military intelligence has facilitated militia support for Mogadishu.

Even before the continuing US/Israel-Iranian war, the western Indian Ocean and Gulf of Aden were bristling with competing navies and interests, ranging from the Iranian-backed Houthis in Yemen to Operation ATALANTA, the EU mission designed to combat piracy. And a Turkish installation at Laas Qoray would join facilities operated by China, France, Italy, Japan, and the US in neighbouring Djibouti, further deepening the concentration of foreign military power near the Bab al-Mandab, the critical chokepoint between the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea, whose strategic significance the Iran conflict has thrown into savage relief. Alongside oil, the real estate value of control over these aortic straits has soared in the past weeks.

Turkish interests in Somalia are an expression of a longer history; the blending of commercial and security interests through these arterial waterways is centuries old, be it through Royal Navy frigates or American aircraft carriers. What has changed, though, is the collapse of the multilateral framework that once provided a degree of structure, however imperfect, to the post-Cold War competition and the dying era of the ‘liberal peace.’ In its place, a bluntly transactional geo-kleptocratic logic has stepped forward, in which the scramble for energy is reshaping politics across the globe.

More than most countries in the Horn of Africa, the Somali peninsula’s geographic position has drawn trade, religion, and cultural exchange for millennia with the Middle East and beyond. It is impossible to divorce Somalia’s politics or culture from the broader region, not least with many Somali clans regarding themselves as ‘Arab’ rather than ‘African.’

Instead, the question for Somalia and the Horn writ large remains whether its governments can convert the rivalries from across the Red Sea from a source of instability into positive leverage for their own countries. Whether Turkey’s rising geostrategic investments in Somalia offer a transformative model of engagement or simply more of the same externalised insecurity will have to be seen, but the augurs are hardly positive.

Matthew de Waal is a freelance analyst on peace and security on the Horn of Africa based in Nairobi.

Contributed by Matthew Chandler de Waal

At a time like this, the greatest mistake we can make is trying to do everything at once. Not all problems are equal. Some are foundational. Some are enabling. And some, if ignored, will make every other effort irrelevant.

Food Is Not Just a Sector, It Is the System

We often repeat that food, shelter, and clothing are basic human needs. But in Ethiopia today, food is not just one of many priorities it is the highest priority. It underpins stability, health, productivity, and even peace. When food systems fail, everything else follows: economic collapse, migration, conflict, and disease. Yet we continue to treat food as if it were someone else’s responsibility, something for farmers, or for the Ministry of Agriculture. That approach is no longer adequate for the challenges we face.

Food security must become a national agenda, owned by every sector, every institution, and every level of leadership. Until Ethiopia reaches a safe and stable threshold, nothing else should distract from this central task. This requires a shift not only in focus, but in how we approach agricultural transformation: more attention alone will not solve the problem. Poorly directed attention can be as damaging as neglect.

If Science Does Not Lead, We Will Keep Failing

Ethiopia does not suffer from a lack of effort. It suffers from a lack of alignment and direction. The country must shift decisively toward knowledge-driven, science-led agricultural transformation. This is not a technical preference; it is a necessity. Without it, we will continue to recycle the same approaches and expect different results.

I recently attended the annual research review of the Ethiopian Institute of Agricultural Research (EIAR). What I saw was encouraging: dedicated researchers, committed professionals, and real intellectual energy. The potential is there. But potential does not produce results on its own. Without a system that allows science to lead, that potential will remain unrealized. If we are serious about transformation, three priorities are non-negotiable.

Integration: Ethiopia’s agricultural system exhibits important gaps in coordination both across sectors and within the Ministry of Agriculture itself – from research and policy to implementation, utilization of scientific outputs, and extension. These disconnects are not merely inefficient; they significantly limit impact. Research findings do not consistently reach farmers, policies are not always grounded in operational realities, and promising solutions struggle to scale. For example, improved crop varieties and practices often remain confined to research stations rather than reaching widespread adoption at farm level. Addressing this requires a shift toward systems thinking – where each stage, from conceptualization to delivery and use, is better connected, aligned, and oriented toward measurable impact.

Human Capital: Agriculture cannot be transformed with average capacity. It requires the best minds the country has to offer. Yet the sector often struggles to attract and retain top talent. This must change. Ethiopia must invest in building, attracting, and retaining highly capable, interdisciplinary professionals. Critically, this includes repurposing and retraining talented individuals from other fields who may have no formal background in agriculture but possess strong analytical, technical, and problem-solving skills. There is a vast pool of underutilized talent across disciplines such as data science, engineering, economics, and environmental sciences that can be redirected toward agricultural transformation with the right training and orientation. This requires deliberate programs to transition and equip such professionals with applied agricultural knowledge, while leveraging their existing strengths. Equally important is creating the right motivation and incentive structures – competitive compensation, clear career pathways, and a strong sense of national purpose – to attract and retain the country’s brightest minds. Without mobilizing and redirecting this breadth of talent, science cannot effectively lead agricultural transformation.

Funding: This is where rhetoric must end, and real commitment must begin. Agricultural research must become one of the most well-funded sectors in Ethiopia, not symbolically, but substantively. And not in fragments, but across the entire chain. Funding must cover everything: from conceptualization and design to field implementation, validation, scaling, and ultimately delivery and use by farmers and policymakers. Laboratories, field trials, data systems, and extension services must be properly financed. Researchers must be competitively paid and supported. Without this end-to-end investment, even the best ideas will die before they make an impact.

This Is Not Just Reform, It Is a Reset

The problem is not only technical; it is structural.

The human resource base of agriculture must change. A system dominated by outdated structures cannot deliver modern results. Ethiopia must actively bring in younger generations, educated farmers, and practically trained professionals, particularly through strengthened TVET systems that connect knowledge with real-world application.

Leadership must also evolve. It cannot remain trapped in routine administration while the system it oversees struggles. What is needed is leadership that thinks in systems, acts strategically, and focuses on long-term impact. This leadership must also be supported, not constrained, by independent, high-level thinking bodies composed of the country’s best minds, free from bureaucratic inertia.

Ethiopia’s future will not be decided in abstract debates or policy documents. It will be decided by the choices made now. We can continue to spread our attention thin, reacting to symptoms. Or we can confront the foundation of the problem and act decisively. If there is one area where failure is not an option, it is agriculture. Not just more attention, but focused, science-driven, system-wide transformation. Because if agriculture fails, the foundation of Ethiopia’s future is at risk.

Taddese Alemu Zerfu (PhD) is a research fellow at the International Food Policy Research Institute (IFPRI). He is also an Adjunct Associate Professor at the University of Gondar (UoG).

Contributed by Taddese Alemu Zerfu (PhD)

There is no doubt that peace matters. For a region that has historically suffered from insecurity, underdevelopment, political exclusion, and deep social wounds, any serious effort to improve stability deserves recognition. Roads, schools, hospitals, water infrastructure, investment, and expanded public services are not small matters. They affect real lives. Communities that once measured governance mainly through security operations and suspicion naturally welcome visible development, improved mobility, access to services, and a greater sense of normalcy.

In that regard, the President’s emphasis on peace as the foundation of development is valid. No investor comes where insecurity dominates. No school functions properly where fear controls daily life. No hospital, road, or market can fully serve people where communities are constantly uncertain about tomorrow. The Somali Region needed peace, and it still needs peace.

But peace should never be understood only as the absence of armed conflict. Peace is also the presence of justice, trust, dignity, inclusion, accountability, and equal treatment before public institutions. A region may be calm on the surface while still carrying unresolved grievances underneath. A government may build infrastructure while still needing to strengthen political openness, public participation, and institutional accountability.

This is where the interview invites careful reflection.

The President states that the Somali Region’s “only question is development.” This is a powerful phrase, but it is also a phrase that requires caution. Development is indeed a central question. But it cannot be the only question. For communities that have experienced historical marginalization, political trauma, displacement, drought, conflict, and exclusion, development is inseparable from justice, representation, rights, and voice.

People do not live by roads and buildings alone. They also live by confidence in institutions. They live by the freedom to speak without fear. They live by the assurance that public resources are used fairly, that opportunities are not captured by networks of loyalty, and that criticism is not treated as hostility.

Development without accountability risks becoming a story told from the top rather than a reality measured from below.

The interview presents impressive claims: expanded water schemes, new hospitals, schools, roads, agricultural investment, private-sector growth, and major expectations from natural gas and fertilizer projects. These are important developments, and where they have improved people’s lives, they deserve to be acknowledged. But they also deserve to be publicly documented, independently assessed, and measured against outcomes.

How many communities now have reliable water throughout the year? How many of the new schools have qualified teachers, learning materials, and safe environments for girls and children from pastoral communities? How many hospitals have adequate staff, medicine, equipment, and referral capacity? How much of the reported investment has created decent employment for ordinary people rather than simply benefiting politically connected actors?

These questions are not attacks. They are the normal questions of responsible citizenship.

A confident administration should not fear scrutiny. In fact, the stronger the development record, the more open the government should be to independent assessment. Public achievements become more credible when they are supported by transparent data, citizen feedback, parliamentary oversight, media freedom, and space for civil society.

The Somali Region is vast, diverse, and complex. Its development needs cannot be captured by a single narrative. Urban growth in Jigjiga, improvements in main towns, or progress in selected investment corridors should not hide the continued struggles of pastoral and agro-pastoral communities living with drought, water scarcity, poor road access, livestock disease, market shocks, and climate-related displacement. The real test of development is not only what is visible in regional capitals, but what reaches remote communities during hard seasons.

The President also speaks strongly about political stability and opposition weakness. While stability is important, democracy requires more than the absence of serious challengers. It requires meaningful competition, credible elections, tolerant public debate, and institutions that protect dissent. A political environment where everyone agrees with the government is not necessarily a sign of contentment. Sometimes it may also reflect fear, fatigue, dependency, or lack of trust that criticism will be handled fairly.

The best way to prove that there is no public discontent is not to declare it. It is to allow citizens, journalists, opposition parties, elders, youth, women, professionals, and civil society actors to speak freely and organize peacefully.

The Somali Region has come through painful political chapters. Its people understand the cost of conflict more than most. For that reason, no responsible actor should romanticize instability or encourage a return to violence. But the rejection of violence should not be used to silence peaceful criticism. Supporting peace and demanding accountability are not contradictory. They are mutually reinforcing.

A government that listens early avoids crisis later.

The interview also touches on natural gas, fertilizer production, electricity, and the promise of transforming the regional economy. These projects could indeed become major opportunities. But natural resources can be either a blessing or a source of grievance depending on how they are governed. Communities around resource areas must see real benefits, not only in law but in practice. Revenue sharing, local employment, environmental protection, compensation, consultation, and transparent contracting will determine whether these projects create shared prosperity or deepen mistrust.

The Somali Region should not simply become a place where resources are extracted. It must become a place where resource wealth builds human capital, climate resilience, local enterprise, and intergenerational opportunity.

The President’s recognition that the region was historically marginalized is important. However, overcoming marginalization requires more than inclusion in national economic plans. It requires strong regional institutions, fair federal-regional relations, respect for local voices, and development models that fit the realities of pastoral and borderland communities. The Somali Region’s future should not be imagined only through mega-projects and urban expansion, but also through resilient livelihoods, livestock markets, water systems, dryland agriculture, climate services, education, and peace across borders.

The interview’s broader national message also deserves attention. The President presents the Prosperity Party as a centrist force seeking to bridge extremes and strengthen national unity. Ethiopia certainly needs moderation, dialogue, constitutionalism, and peaceful political competition. But national unity cannot be built by rhetoric alone. It must be built through fairness, justice, credible institutions, and respect for Ethiopia’s diversity. Unity becomes meaningful when citizens feel protected, represented, and heard.

For the Somali Region, the challenge ahead is clear. The leadership should continue investing in development, but it should also widen the political space. It should celebrate achievements, but also accept criticism. It should protect peace, but also address grievances. It should attract investment, but also protect communities. It should speak about progress, but also publish evidence. It should promote regional pride, but also avoid treating dissenting voices as enemies.

President Mustafe’s interview is valuable because it sets out the government’s case in its own words. That case deserves to be heard. But the public also deserves a fuller conversation. Development is not a slogan. It is a lived experience. Peace is not a press statement. It is a daily relationship between citizens and the state. Leadership is not only about listing achievements. It is also about building trust, accepting responsibility, and allowing society to question power without fear.

The Somali Region has changed. That much is clear. The more important question is whether that change is deep, inclusive, accountable, and sustainable.

The region does not need a politics of permanent confrontation. Nor does it need a politics of unquestioned praise. It needs a mature public conversation where progress can be acknowledged, shortcomings can be named, and the future can be debated with dignity.

Development is welcome.

But development must walk beside justice, accountability, inclusion, and freedom. Only then can the peace dividend become a shared and lasting legacy for all people of the Somali Region.

Hussein Mohamed Yusuf is a Climate Change and Environmental Sustainability Professional based in Nairobi, Kenya. He can be reached at hussienm4@gmail.com.

Contributed by Hussein Mohamed Yusuf 

Be it bias, discrimination, invasion of privacy, environmental degradation or loss of jobs,  unchecked deployment of AI poses many risks. This has prompted a range of governance initiatives in Africa. But AI strategies have been the principal means of governance considered by African policy makers. From the first national AI strategy of AI in Mauritius in 2018, over a dozen African states have adopted national AI policies of some sort. At the continental level, the African Union has an AI Strategy as well as African Digital Compact and Africa AI Declaration. An archetypal AI strategy would identify priority sectors where AI would be deployed. As a national policy plan, an AI strategy indicates the priorities and aspirations in achieving certain policy objectives. 

That means an AI strategy is simply a prelude to formal governance instruments such as legislation. This reinforces the recent turn to legislation from AI strategies in several African states. A common thread in recent legislative exercises is that African states tend to pursue the European Union’s approach to AI governance. But the question of whether Africans need esoteric AI legislation to govern AI systems remains. If such legislation is desirable, whether Africa should go down the path of European law is not clear. 

AI legislation may indeed be useful in various ways. At one level, it may regulate the development and use of AI systems that pose risks to individual rights, social cohesion or even national security as well as harnessing benefits of AI. Similar to the European approach, emergent AI bills in Africa ban certain AI systems while putting in place a series of regulatory requirements for others. Legislation can also create new regulatory bodies that oversee AI rules or other pertinent laws such as data protection or cybersecurity law. Kenya’s AI Bill, for instance, institutes the AI Commissioner as well as the AI Advisory Committee as regulators of AI systems in the country.

The question of whether Africa needs AI legislation at this particular moment deserves more critical scrutiny than the current enthusiasm for lawmaking might suggest. AI policies were meant to coordinate AI development at national level. While many countries committed to responsible AI development, many have yet to set up or fund institutions that were to give the strategies meaning. This points to an endemic problem in Africa where many of the challenges are not because of a lack of regulation, but because of lack of implementation. Legislating in this environment risks producing laws that are aspirational in the same way that the strategies before them were aspirational: formally enacted but substantively inert. 

Emerging legislation also seems to be heavily drawn from the European Union, adopting its risk-based approach, regulatory categories and institutional design. This approach is not however new in African states’ attempt to regulate new and emerging technologies. The first generation of data protection and cybercrime laws in Africa drew directly from formative legal instruments in Europe. But rarely have such legal transplanting exercises been informed by or take into account local context, interests and concerns. If Kenya and Ethiopia’s recently unveiled AI bills are any indication, a similar approach of unimaginative legal transplantation is poised to shape the structure of AI regulation in Africa. 

If African states are to introduce AI legislation, it should emerge not from a compulsion to signal regulatory modernity  but from a concrete and honest reckoning with what AI is actually doing on the continent — how it is being deployed by technology companies as well as in public services, who controls the data, who bears the harms, and whose interests existing governance gaps leave unprotected. It means asking why large technology companies,  many of them headquartered in the United States, China, or Europe, are able to collect and process vast amounts of data generated by African users, often under terms of service that most users neither read nor meaningfully consent to, and with little accountability to African regulators. It means asking why AI-powered content moderation systems perform poorly in African languages and local contexts, with real consequences for how information and misinformation spread on the continent. It means asking who benefits when governments deploy AI in social protection, policing, or public administration,  and who bears the risk when those systems get it wrong. 

As the AI hype continues, African states are already deploying AI in different sectors, including in healthcare and tax management. But this occurs in a regulatory vacuum. In the absence of a robust regulatory regime, AI is likely to cause considerable harm to individuals and broadly on societies in the continent. While AI legislation might be  a promising step forward in filling the regulatory void, this effort appears to be restricted only to a few countries whose approach is yet to move past European parameters. Policymakers should rather prioritise pursuing a more considered and contextualised approach to address AI risks meaningfully. Until such time, putting a moratorium on the deployment of high-risk AI systems in sensitive domains such as healthcare should be seriously considered to prevent disastrous outcomes in the years to come. 

 Kinfe Yima (PhD) is a senior lecturer at University of Leeds, School of Law. Grace Mutung’u is a digital policy researcher based in Kenya.

Contributed by Kinfe Yilma (PhD) and Grace Mutung’u

The Horsemen started the tie with a more direct approach, opting for swift counterattacks. The Browns tried to dominate the midfield, but controlling the tempo of the game was tough for both sides. Saint George took the lead in the 24th minute when Habtamu Gulelat set up Fitsum Tilahun to slot home from close range after poor defending from Ethiopian Coffee.

The visitors came close to equalizing through a strong left-footed effort from Nigerian striker Abubaker Adamu. The Browns got the much-needed equalizer at the stroke of half-time when Okay Jul finished from the edge of the box in a composed manner following superb work from team captain Ramkel James.

In the second half, Ethiopian Coffee opted for more direct football and were rewarded shortly with a goal from Biniyam Getachew. The former Dire Dawa Ketema forward capitalized on a concentration lapse by the Horsemen to put the ball into the net. The Browns were the better side and got their third goal when Zelalem Abate scored from inside the box with a right-footed strike in the 66th minute.

After the win, Ethiopian Coffee is still 7th in the table with 41 points, six ahead of 10th-placed Saint George. In Round 29, Ethiopian Coffee will play relegation battlers Wolwalo Adigrat University, while Saint George is up against title aspirants Sidama Coffee.

(Pan-African Football)