May-December Politics in Sub-Saharan Africa

Originally published in Fair Observer on February 5, 2014

In 2009, African leaders met in Addis Ababa to declare 2009-2018 as the “African Youth Decade.” Despite rhetoric promising to mobilize resources to help spur human development and curb unemployment, there has been limited progress on integrating youth into society’s most formidable institution: the statehouse.

Today, Africa has the largest youth population in the world with close to 70% below the age of 25. Despite the huge population growth among the continent’s youth, the average age of an African president is around 63-years-old.

In late January, thousands of demonstrators took to the streets of Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso to protest against proposed changes to the constitution that would allow President Blaise Compaoré to run for another term in 2015. Opposition leaders organized a national day of protest to demand that Compaoré steps down in lieu of making revisions to presidential term limits. Currently, the country’s constitution limits presidents to two five-year terms.

President Compaoré came to power in 1987 following a coup. After serving two seven-year terms, the constitution was changed in 2000, allowing him to serve two additional five-year terms. Under the stipulations of the current constitution, his term is set to end next year.

The recent protests in Burkina Faso are merely emblematic of many African leaders’ refusal to turn over power to a new generation that is crying out for recognition and support. Compaoré is not alone in his long run at the top. Uganda’s Yoweri Museveni has been in power for over 28 years; Cameroon’s Paul Biya for 32 years; Zimbabwe’s infamous Robert Mugabe for 34 years; and José Eduardo Dos Santos of Angola and Teodoro Obiang of Equatorial Guinea for 35 years each.

A Recipe for Instability

Although many of the aforementioned leaders were once heralded as revolutionary heroes to their people, they have since become old men enamored with the trappings of power. Many African leaders are often deluded into thinking they have the hearts of their people.

However, in claiming to love and act in the best interest of their nations, these leaders may do more harm than good. A one-man regime, built on a simulacrum of a functional civil service, is a recipe for disaster when that leader leaves. The tenuous relationships that he has built through lining the pockets of his supporters or by using force will shatter, leaving either a power vacuum or a splintered state.

Nowhere has this been clearer than in the case of Ivory Coast in the 1990s when the death of President Houphouët-Boigny turned the country upside down. As a result, Ivory Coast struggled to maintain peace in the midst of fragmented political relations that led to the 1999 coup and, ultimately, the Ivorian Civil War. The risk that we might witness a future crop of unstable states after the death or fall of one of these aging autocrats is high.

The gap between the leadership and the people has become a growing source of contention as one might see in the recent uproar over Francis Muthaura’s appointment in Kenya. As a former member of the Kibaki administration, Muthaura’s appointment as the head of a multibillion-dollar rail, road, and port project in Lamu alienated local people who demanded a fresh face to spearhead the project. In Kenya, the flames of anger may have dissipated, but we must seriously consider circumstances in which they might burn unabated.

In Burkina Faso, we may be seeing the seeds of a disgruntled youth movement akin to the events of the Arab Spring in which a young population, frustrated with unemployment and autocracy, fought for more democratic representation and economic participation.

Like the aging Sub-Saharan gerontocracy, North African leaders were markedly older than the citizens of their countries. Hosni Mubarak was 82 at the time of his ouster, while the median age in Egypt is around 30. Libya’s Muammar Qaddafi was similarly much older than the average Libyan. As the youth population in Africa continues to explode, it is likely that discontent with aging autocrats will grow unless action is taken now.

Time for Change

Local communities must push for the revitalization of democracy through the enforcement of presidential term limits and a balance of power. By ensuring smooth transfers of power between candidates truly chosen by the people, citizens have a greater chance of ensuring that their interests are represented.

However, in urging the gerontocracy to abdicate its de-facto throne, it must also be ensured that African nations do not suffer due to a limited pool of qualified candidates. To overcome these potential shortcomings, the international community must continue its support of improving education and building capacity in the developing world.

As we lie in the midst of an African Renaissance and a global boom in technology, the possibilities to rapidly accelerate opportunities for citizens to improve their education and make the leap towards public service are endless. There are hundreds clamoring at the door to make their voices heard. It is time to let them in.

Beyond “***Flawless”: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Feminism

Originally published in Broad Recognition on December 23, 2013

As millions of loyal fans across the world downloaded Beyoncé’s latest album, many listeners may have been surprised to find the dulcet tones of acclaimed Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie interspersed with the trap-inflected beat of “***Flawless.” In the song, Beyoncé samples an excerpt of Adichie’s TEDxEuston talk “We Should All Be Feminists.” The clip addresses how society conditions the aspirations of girls and boys while also offering a straightforward, accessible definition of a feminist: “a person who believes in the economic, socialand political equality of the sexes.” Although “***Flawless” may spark conversations across households over feminist theory, one must hope the conversation does not stop there. I hope that it also opens budding students of culture to the themes of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novels and short stories, which are far more complex than the Beyoncé soundbite.

Through her books Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, The Thing Around Your Neck and, most recently, Americanah, Adichie has been catapulted to literary stardom. Her beautifully rendered tales of life in Nigeria and the challenges of immigrant life in the United States have garnered a vast, loyal fanbase. While she may have been hailed as the 21st century daughter of Chinua Achebe, her work has moved beyond the label of “African” or “world” literature because of its embrace of universal themes of the personal and the political. Her near-viral TED talks, “The Danger of The Single Story” and the aforementioned “We Should All Be Feminists”, have complemented these epic tales andpithy short stories by expanding upon the themes that she has addressed in her literary work.

Although these TED talks have likely served as many people’s first introduction to Chimamanda’s particular brand of feminism, they should not be the last. Her novels mesh her theories with reality — they explore the realms of femininity and masculinity through the lenses of the every(wo)man while quietly challenging the notion that feminism is un-African. The mainstream feminist agenda has neglected the storiesand challenges of black women, immigrant and African women for too long. Because Adichie occupies all these spaces, she brings fresh perspectives to their stories by juxtaposing vulnerability with empowerment in her female characters. In societies and social settings in which these women are often perceived to be oppressed, she makes powerful statements about female agency. Adichie creates worlds in which women can take ownership of their sexual desires – in which they are neither defined by their decisions to embrace or reject it.

Purple Hibiscus explores domestic violence and the role of women in the household in the context of a patriarchal society. The novel tells the story of a young girl named Kambili who, along with her mother andbrother, lives in fear of her father Eugene. As the head of the household, Eugene emotionally and physically abuses his wife and children while he is regarded as a hero by the outside world due to his dedication to human rights and illustrious business career. Adichie contrasts the demeanor of Kambili’s mother Beatrice, a quiet, submissive women, with her aunt Ifeoma, who confronts Eugene’s tyranny. The novel examines the ways in which Nigerian women negotiate the domestic sphere in the post-colonial era. Through the lenses of Ifeoma, it confronts the idea of misogynistic traditions and asserts that gender ideals can evolve in tandem with tradition.

Adichie’s second novel Half of a Yellow Sun tells the story of two fiercely, independent sisters navigating their relationships in the midst of war and shows the evolution of the modern Nigerian woman. She contrasts the modern, highly-educated and independent Nigerian women who confront the horrors of war with village women who have been subjugated and merely exist to be the tools of men. Cast against the background of the Biafran War, the novel beautifully illustrates how the fight for independence affected citizens at the national, communityand individual level. The theme of independence and of crafting one’s own definition of womanhood, outside of manhood, features prominently throughout the book. As Aunty Ifeka says during the novel, “You must never behave as if your life belongs to a man…. your life belongs to you and you alone.”

Similarly, The Thing Around Your Neck, a collection of some of Adichie’s best short stories, paints myriad pictures of African womanhood. In “Imitation”, the protagonist Nkem, the beautiful, kept wife of a wealthy Nigerian businessmen struggles to fit the picture of domesticity her husband desires and with how to confront her husband’s infidelity. In “Cell One”, Adichie touches on the differential treatment between girls and boys that she later expanded on in her TEDxEuston talk. The collection of 12 tales stretch from Nigeria to the United States

Adichie’s latest novel Americanah, which has dominated the end-of-the-year “best book” lists, introduces a protagonist named Ifemelu. Despite being an epic romance between two lovers, the story is far from a Cinderella story, and Ifemelu is no simpering fairy tale heroine. The novel negotiates how girls become women through the lenses of the black, African and immigrant experiences. Out of all of Adichie’s novels, it perhaps embraces feminism most blatantly while also offering sharp insights on race relations in the United States through excerpts from Ifemelu’s blog. Ifemelu is no shrinking violet: she is bold, she is brash and outspoken. Through her blog posts on race and her commentary on her romantic relationships, we see a woman active and contributive, vocal through various means. Ifemelu is a heroine precisely because she vocalizing the thoughts that women often keep silent.  Through Ifemelu, Adichie offers a powerful commentary on romantic relationships that champions partnership over ownership.

If “***Flawless was a sample of Adichie’s feminism and her TED talks an appetizer, her novels and short stories must be the main course. In each exquisitely written volume, Adichie renders powerful, inspiring, but flawed female characters and invites the reader to accompany them on a journey of self-discovery. In exploring the lives of these characters, she invites the reader to develop their own definition of feminism organically in the comfort of richly imagined settings that stretch from Nsukka to London to even, in her latest novel, New Haven.

Beyond “***Flawless”: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Feminism

Originally published in Broad Recognition 

As millions of loyal fans across the world downloaded Beyoncé’s latest album, many listeners may have been surprised to find the dulcet tones of acclaimed Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie interspersed with the trap-inflected beat of “***Flawless.” In the song, Beyoncé samples an excerpt of Adichie’s TEDxEuston talk “We Should All Be Feminists.” The clip addresses how society conditions the aspirations of girls and boys while also offering a straightforward, accessible definition of a feminist: “a person who believes in the economic, social and political equality of the sexes.” Although “***Flawless” may spark conversations across households over feminist theory, one must hope the conversation does not stop there. I hope that it also opens budding students of culture to the themes of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novels and short stories, which are far more complex than the Beyoncé soundbite.

Through her books Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, The Thing Around Your Neck and, most recently, Americanah, Adichie has been catapulted to literary stardom. Her beautifully rendered tales of life in Nigeria and the challenges of immigrant life in the United States have garnered a vast, loyal fanbase. While she may have been hailed as the 21st century daughter of Chinua Achebe, her work has moved beyond the label of “African” or “world” literature because of its embrace of universal themes of the personal and the political. Her near-viral TED talks, “The Danger of The Single Story” and the aforementioned “We Should All Be Feminists,” have complemented these epic tales and pithy short stories by expanding upon the themes that she has addressed in her literary work.

Although these TED talks have likely served as many people’s first introduction to Chimamanda’s particular brand of feminism, they should not be the last. Her novels mesh her theories with reality—they explore the realms of femininity and masculinity through the lenses of the every(wo)man while quietly challenging the notion that feminism is un-African. The mainstream feminist agenda often neglects the stories and challenges of black women, immigrant and African women for too long. Because Adichie occupies all these spaces, she brings fresh perspectives to their stories by juxtaposing vulnerability with empowerment in her female characters. In societies and social settings in which these women are often perceived to be oppressed, she makes powerful statements about female agency. Adichie creates worlds in which women can take ownership of their sexual desires—in which they are neither defined by their decisions to embrace or reject it.

Purple Hibiscus explores domestic violence and the role of women in the household in the context of a patriarchal society. The novel tells the story of a young girl named Kambili who, along with her mother and brother, lives in fear of her father Eugene. As the head of the household, Eugene emotionally and physically abuses his wife and children while he is regarded as a hero by the outside world due to his dedication to human rights and illustrious business career. Adichie contrasts the demeanor of Kambili’s mother Beatrice, a quiet, submissive women, with her aunt Ifeoma, who confronts Eugene’s tyranny. The novel examines the ways in which Nigerian women negotiate the domestic sphere in the post-colonial era. Through the lenses of Ifeoma, it confronts the idea of misogynistic traditions and asserts that gender ideals can evolve in tandem with tradition.

Adichie’s second novel Half of a Yellow Sun tells the story of two fiercely independent sisters navigating their relationships in the midst of war and shows the evolution of the modern Nigerian women. She contrasts the modern, highly-educated and independent Nigerian women who confront the horrors of war with village women who have been subjugated and merely exist to be the tools of men. Cast against the background of the Biafran War, the novel beautifully illustrates how the fight for independence affected citizens at the national, community and individual level. The theme of independence and of crafting one’s own definition of womanhood, outside of manhood, features prominently throughout the book. As Aunty Ifeka says during the novel, “You must never behave as if your life belongs to a man…. your life belongs to you and you alone.”

Similarly, The Thing Around Your Neck, a collection of some of Adichie’s best short stories, paints myriad pictures of African womanhood. In “Imitation,” the protagonist Nkem, the beautiful, kept wife of a wealthy Nigerian businessmen struggles to fit the picture of domesticity her husband desires and struggles with how to confront her husband’s infidelity. In “Cell One,” Adichie touches on the differential treatment between girls and boys that she later expanded on in her TEDxEuston talk. The collection of 12 tales that stretch from Nigeria to the United States

Adichie’s latest novel Americanah, which has dominated the end-of-the-year “best book” lists, introduces a protagonist named Ifemelu. Despite being an epic romance between two lovers, the story is far from a Cinderella story, and Ifemelu is no simpering fairy tale heroine. The novel negotiates how girls become women through the lenses of the black, African and immigrant experiences. Out of all of Adichie’s novels, it perhaps embraces feminism most blatantly while also offering sharp insights on race relations in the United States through excerpts from Ifemelu’s blog. Ifemelu is no shrinking violet: she is bold, she is brash and outspoken. Through her blog posts on race and her commentary on her romantic relationships, we see a woman active and contributive, vocal through various means. Ifemelu is a heroine precisely because she vocalizing the thoughts that women often keep silent.  Through Ifemelu, Adichie offers a powerful commentary on romantic relationships that champions partnership over ownership.

If “***Flawless was a sample of Adichie’s feminism and her TED talks an appetizer, her novels and short stories must be the main course. In each exquisitely written volume, Adichie renders powerful, inspiring, but flawed female characters and invites the reader to accompany them on a journey of self-discovery. In exploring the lives of these characters, she invites the reader to develop their own definition of feminism organically in the comfort of richly imagined settings that stretch from Nsukka to London to even, in her latest novel, New Haven.

A True Pivot on Africa for Yale

This column originally appeared in the Yale Daily News on October 16, 2013.

During President Richard Levin’s 20-year tenure, Yale made remarkable strides in creating a more international University. International initiatives during Levin’s tenure include the foundation of the Jackson Institute as well as a number of partnerships and programs in East Asia and Latin America. However, an examination of the University’s student body, course listings and career development offerings quickly reveals that this commitment does not appear to extend to Africa. Despite possessing the fastest growing population and economies in the world, Africa has been curiously absent from Yale’s agenda.

In his inaugural address, President Peter Salovey devoted significant time to addressing the need to expand the University’s commitment to Africa by “bringing scholarship and teaching about Africa at Yale into sharper focus.” I applaud him for this commitment, but we must ensure that Yale’s approach to Africa is not only targeted, but also inclusive.

We must renew our commitment to the African Languages Program. Currently, the only courses offered are Swahili, Yoruba and Zulu. Students who hope to take other languages may pursue the Directed Independent Language Study — but without credit. With Title VI — which partially funds language programs — in jeopardy due to the sequester, it is crucial for Yale to openly pledge to support African languages by expanding contracts for language instructors and course offerings for credit. Other languages that should be taught include Wolof, Twi and Amharic. If we want to truly engage with Africa, we must also speak her languages.

With 18 percent of Yale’s student body consisting of international students, Yale has long had a cosmopolitan character. However, its recruitment efforts on the continent have been sorely lacking. Only 95 to 100 students at the University are from Sub-Saharan Africa. It is time to recruit more Africans if we truly hope to create global leaders. The recruitment of African students must also extend beyond already over-represented countries such as Ghana, Nigeria, South Africa or Kenya and include a wider set of nations across the five major regions of Africa — especially in the North, Central and East. We must escape our dependency on feeder schools in a handful of countries to find the star students that exist continent-wide.

While Yale may fear that increased recruitment of Africa’s brightest minds will contribute to the phenomenon of brain drain, this line of thinking may very well be outdated. As Africa experiences her Renaissance and moment in the international spotlight, more Africans in the diaspora hope to return to the continent. They are eager to participate in the diverse range of business opportunities springing up with the help of new incubators and innovative companies across the continent. However, unless we can provide students with information and resources on these opportunities, Yale is missing a critical opportunity to more actively and directly contribute to the continent’s growth by producing future political leaders and CEOs.

We must push our Career Services to expand their network in Africa. The listed opportunities on the continent are few and far between and tend to focus on the NGO sector or on U.S.-based companies. Considering the recent flurry of investment on the continent, private sector opportunities must be dramatically expanded. While we can accomplish this through Yale alumni, Career Services must itself do some of the groundwork of reaching out to companies and organizations.

If the development banks, the newspapers and magazines are right, this is the time for Africa. Africa is rising, and it is time for Yale to make its mark. However, unlike the various existing initiatives across East Asia and Latin America, the Africa Initiative is the first to focus on a region of this magnitude. It is essential that we recall that Africa is a gigantic continent encompassing 54 countries with distinct cultures and histories.

As esteemed Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie GRD ’08 proclaimed in her highly acclaimed 2009 TED Talk, the age of the single story of Africa is over. Yale must resist the Western tendency to view Africa as a monolithic entity and engage with Africa’s regions systematically and inclusively if it hopes to turn its lofty goals into a reality.

Sense and Senselessness: Coping with Trauma Post-Westgate

On September 21, 2013, unidentified gunmen entered the upscale Westgate shopping mall in the Westlands neighborhood of Nairobi, Kenya. Since its opening in 2007, the mall has been a popular shopping spot among ex-pats and wealthy Kenyans, but has also served as a gathering place for many Nairobi youth. Over the course of a few days, in a 30-hour siege, terrorists claiming to be members of Somali terrorist group al-Shabbab (“the youth” in Arabic) killed over 61 civilians and 6 security officers were killed.

Although Kenya has dealt with terror threats in the last few years, largely due to its proximity to volatile Somalia and its other unstable neighbors, the nation has not dealt with an attack of this scale since the devasting 1998 United States embassy bombing in which over 200 people were killed and 4,000 people were injured. 

In the Kenyan community and large Kenyan diaspora, reactions to the attack ranged from deep sadness to rage. Although Somali religious clerics have denounced the actions of al-Shabbab in a fatwa, numerous news agencies have reported Somali communities’ fear of reprisals. In a masterful bit of calculation, this is just the opportunity that al-Shabbab has been waiting for. As the organization loses its ground in Somalia, analysts have hypothesized that the Westgate attack is meant to provoke Kenyan anger and increase the number of disaffected Somalis looking for an outlet. 

To avoid playing into al-Shabbab’s hands, it is imperative that Kenyans resist the urge to react viscerally in spite of terror and pain. Nevertheless, while Westgate offers an opportunity for Kenyans around the world to come together across the divisive lines of ethnicity, it also offers a critical opportunity to address the oft-neglected topic of mental health.

In the wake of 9/11, over 10,000 firefighters, police officers and civilians in New York were found to be coping with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), a disease that can have debilitating effects and severely alter quality of life. Although the U.S. government has spent millions treating these people through the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act, people coping with PTSD around the world do not have this luxury.

Although Kenya’s high growth rates and large middle class have made it one of the recent darlings of the development world, 45.9% of the nation is still at the national poverty line (World Bank Data). While the global health community may be pouring millions of dollars into the treatment and prevention of communicable diseases like HIV/AIDS and malaria, mental health is often put on the back-burner of the public health agenda. 

Kenya’s psychiatrists are trained almost exclusively at the University of Nairobi, which produces only around 6 new psychiatrists per year. In 2009, there were only 46 psychiatrists working in public practice, with another 24 psychiatrists working in private practice In Kenya. For a nation of over 40 million people, this number is woefully inadequate. 

There are only four major mental facilities in the nation: Mathari National Psychiatric Hospital (the national referral center), University of Nairobi, Gil Gil hospital and Moi University. While Mathari receives the largest number of patients, it is not only under-staffed but under-resourced. Mathari has a 500 - 600 occupancy, but the hospital is overcrowded with over 750 patients.

Country-wide, 70% of the in-patient beds are in the Nairobi area. The majority of patients hoping to receive out-patient care experience massive delays or cannot find treatment.

Earlier this year, the escape of 30 mentally ill patients from Mathari Hospital sparked a national conversation in Kenya about mental health, however reforms have largely been in name only. Although the Mental Health Bill of 2013 takes steps towards addressing the need for prevention and discusses the idea of recovery, it largely deals with criteria for hospitalization instead of making substantive changes to the national health budget. As it stands, expenditures for mental health has remained at less than 1% of the annual public health budget. 

Westgate is a critical opportunity to pressure the Kenyan government and international donors to increase the allocation of resources for mental health. Mental health has key implications not only for physical health, but for the resurgence of conflict in Kenya. Mental health can greatly influence the development, prognosis and outcome of physical diseases. Under-addressed trauma leaves salt in the nation’s wounds; if we do not take steps to help Kenya’s people cope with conditions like PTSD, depression, or anxiety, affected persons may translate anger and frustration in hostile outbursts across their fellow countrymen. For there to be peace in the nation, there must first be peace in the people.