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The black colonisation of Africa sets the stage for the re-presentation of some of the conditions that fuel the racial tensions experienced abroad. Politics, inclusion, and the politics of inclusion
Colonisation hardly begins with a declaration of superiority. In West Africa, European colonialism started with Portuguese incursion and inclusion in trade; after the land scramble, it blossomed into cultural erasure as local sociopolitical structures were replaced and local religions displaced before finally culminating in violent dominance, invasion of communities, and exile of rulers. European colonialism defines Africa’s past and present; now, a different type of colonialism is about to define her future—black colonialism.
Blackness is an experience that mostly exists outside of Africa, because ‘race’ as a hierarchical social construct only manifests when multiple races exist in the same space. While race is important in countries like South Africa and Kenya, the evolution of your skin is not widely socially important in places like Nigeria, Ghana, or Congo; ethnicity is.
There is no specific heritage attached to the story of skin colour in Africa. This is why people of African ancestry who exist outside Africa are culturally distinct. They are Black because, through enslavement or willful migration, they or their ancestors have evolved in a land where social life is defined by race, with the default race being white. Growing in these lands, they create or experience cultures with blackness as a base. These cultures, while undoubtedly connected to African cultures, have grown in a mould of experience distinct from an African reality.
Emigrate from Africa, and you transition more or less to Blackness. Return to Africa, and you are either Black, a Black-African like contemporary Africans-in-Diaspora, or a stubborn-headed African.
Black Diasporans have always reached for Africa to recenter their being; tracing heritage through ancestry kits, visiting their ancestral lands, or migrating businesses here, like Idris Elba. However, while good-intentioned, there is a historical hamartia to movements of this kind. That is, reconnection and interaction are happening more on diasporan terms. Resulting in instances where Africa is decentered in the quest for Africa. Decentered in favour of a diasporan ideal. An ideal like the Pan-African Village in Ghana, being built on land stolen from locals of the Asebu community. What is colonisation if not decentering a people in their proper space?
The black colonisation of Africa sets the stage for the re-presentation of some of the conditions that fuel the racial tensions experienced abroad. Politics, inclusion, and the politics of inclusion
The term ‘Pan-Africanism’, often invokes the idea of an intercontinental group hug, like when Haiti overthrew the slavers in 1808; the Pan-African Cultural Manifesto delivered by Houari Bournedienne in 1969; maybe even Martin Luther King Jnr referencing Kwame Nkrumah in his ‘Birth of a New Nation’ sermon. Whatever you think of will be about inclusion and politics. To probe the matter of black colonisation, one must interrogate how Black people and Africans interact with each other.
In the 1900s, W.E.B. Du Bois promulgated a dual identity for Black people in America: African + American.
The inclusion of the African identity as one part of this duality was also a protest against white supremacist narratives ascribing to blackness everything from a lack of history to the shame of regressive/stagnant culture. It is a political statement of identity that birthed intellectual perspectives like Afrocentricity, developed by Asante Mazaima in 1991. Afrocentricity primarily uses African history to challenge white supremacy and repair identity disconnect by reorienting the mind to center African cultures. However, one enduring criticism of Afrocentricity is that it is essentialist. It demands allegiance to a utopian inclusion and unity between Diaspora blacks and continental Africans without acknowledging areas of conflict or questioning instances of harm.
The Legacy of Orisha series is an allegory of the racial politics in America inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement. Written by Tomi Adeyemi, a black American of Yoruba descent, who mentioned in an interview that she had grown up isolated from her Yoruba heritage and decided to embrace it as an adult after she was done trying to fit into the dominant American culture. So she sets the series in fantasy lands built around ancient Yoruba cities like Ibadan. However, one consistent critique of this work by people familiar with modern Yoruba lands is that the books are devoid of realities connected to the places mentioned. And so in a way, the books treat Yoruba culture as a sort of mascot. A costume empty of experience. Hollow.
Some argue this is okay since Africans in Africa are not her target audience in a story around African mythology.
On the other hand, Africans include Blackness when reaching beyond the continent for opportunity and belonging. An immediate example is how Nigerian artists like Tems seem to have transitioned from primarily ‘Nigerian’ acts for an African audience into Black acts for a global market. Tems has pitched a ball at a baseball game like a Black celebrity would, performed at Coachella, had her song debut as number one on America’s Billboard Hot 100, and, for some currently inexplicable reason, won best gospel/inspirational artist at the 2024 BET Awards. Due to the implications for commercial success, many Nigerian artists become African exports who represent a kind of Blackness–African Blackness–in a global music industry with whiteness at its centre, e.,g Wizkid, Ayra Starr, Burna Boy, etc.
The sheer force of this outward orientation of the biggest stars has led people to wonder if chanting slogans like ‘Afrobeats to the world’ means that home will be deprived of its own stars. If Africa is losing its status as the centre around which African music spins. Singer, Rema, hinted at this at the Headies Award 2023: “We are in a very sensitive period if we don’t give our attention to our institutions, we will miss this chance that we have.”
When does inclusion become erasure?
Erasure is not often intentional. Sometimes it is well-meaning but a little careless; a carelessness that is not self-aware, and perhaps inspires disdain for its lack of self-awareness. When it involves culture, unintentional erasure can begin with appropriation under the guise of appreciation.
Cultural appropriation became a buzzword online when Black American women expressed disdain for white women who wore braids. Braids on a caucasian scalp erased the depth of the Black identity narrative, woven into the hairstyle in America. However, why does it appear that when African, rather than Black, histories are on the line, Black people tend to forget all about appropriation and erasure? Nowhere is this more obvious to contemporary Africans than in Film.
In 2024, Hollywood star Idris Elba announced that he would adapt the critically acclaimed Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. He also announced that he would star as the main character, Okonkwo–a man who embodies Igbo culture in its first struggle against colonisation and erasure.
Consider, Things Fall Apart is a definitive book in Nigeria’s literary landscape. It is a cultural artefact that continues to shape perspective and experience among Nigerians, especially the Igbos. Does it not seem almost dishonest to assume that a non-Igbo actor playing Okonkwo is of little significance? Although Elba could spend time studying Igbo culture and history, is there really any depth of cultural immersion that one can acquire, in the average time it takes to make a series, to embody such a monumental character, in a way that properly honours the depth of the story being told in that book?
Some Nigerians reacted to this news with consolation. Nigerians should ‘at least’ be grateful for, despite the obvious sidelining, that two members of production are Nigerian: David Oyelowo and Dayo Ogunyemi. Oyelowo does have Igbo heritage; however, it can not be ignored that his life is also defined by the Black experience, not by an Igbo or even Nigerian experience. Born and raised in England, now a Hollywood star.
Additionally, given the general trend in Black-led stories set in Africa, like Woman King, and other book adaptations like Half of a Yellow Sun, where things as simple as authentic and consistent accents do not inspire enough devotion for accuracy, what are a few Nigerians in the room going to change? If a devout Igbo character like Okonkwo sounds a bit foreign, the story itself has fallen apart. And that is erasure.
But as always, it doesn’t matter. As it is sure to be pointed out, neither the Igbo people nor Nigerians are the primary target audience for the film. After all, why primarily target those without substantial financial power? When Woman King grossed $97.5million globally, figures from Nigeria and South Africa combined were just under half of what the movie made in France, $4.2million, not to mention America’s $60million.
The same thing happens in literature and music. Awoniyi Muyiwa, manager of Afrobeats artist Tems, recently shared how one million streams in Nigeria brought in a revenue of only $300, while in America, it would be $3000-5000. No hard feelings. Business targets money.
Welcome to socioeconomic dominance.
Ever heard of Detty December? It’s a pop culture staple centered around Accra and Lagos since musician Mr Eazi had a show called The Detty Rave in 2017. This show birthed #DettyDecember, which merged with the already existing trend of diasporan migration back to these cities for Christmas holidays. In recent years, there has also been a shift in the Detty December movement. Aside from Black Africans who still constitute the majority, Black Americans have joined the movement. Celebrities like Chloe Bailey, Saweetie, and Gunna, for instance, were in Lagos for Detty December, 2024. All this at a time when migration back to West Africa by the Black American community, like Ghana’s Year of Return, has been an increasing topic of discussion.
In 2024, Lagos amassed around 107 billion naira or $71 million from the 1.2 million visitors during Detty December. Aside from the sheer economic force of more people, this revenue also came from hiked transport fares, hair-making, recreation, along other products and services. Locals complained bitterly about the hikes, but at the end of the day, they were sidelined from being the primary target audience of these services. When demand increases exponentially and supply does not change, it creates scarcity, causing prices to increase exponentially, and products/services to be provided only to those who can afford these prices. The primary audience shifted to everyone who made Tiktoks about how much cheaper these services cost in Lagos compared to abroad, selling the Detty December experience to more people.. The long-term effects of this are already evident in the West African real estate market. Regular citizens, priced out of their own markets.
Homecoming content has also been on the rise, showcasing what it costs to move back to cities in Africa and glorifying how much cheaper things are. Ghana, one of the most popular countries for Diasporian relocation due to government stance on PanAfricanism, has seen returnees offered free land in exchange for $1000 per plot in administrative fees. There are even businesses helping African Americans build houses and relocate to Ghana*.
This is a good thing done with okay intentions, but not all ends justify their means. In the first place, land does not manifest from thin air to be given for free. There are farmers in Asebu, Ghana, who have had acres of their lands seized by the local chief to provide the government with the very plots being given out for free and labelled The Pan-African Village. Of course, this land will be presented to diasporans as previously unoccupied or willingly relinquished, and its history will be erased. What happens when a new community of people with more economic power than the average local enters a polity?
Gentrification has always forced its way in with a bloody key, but now, more and more countries are protesting the gentle but steady influx of migrants, costing locals their standard of living. It may be amusing to note that some African American creators are pointing out that the Pan-African Village in Ghana would effectively segregate against them, as if those with greater economic power and near-free land have historically been the ones to suffer heavily in any system of segregation.
Again, while people entering a country with more economic power means greater money in the country’s system, it also means greater inequality because capitalist economies cater to the affluent. So, the average local will be priced out of life, and become a second-class citizen in their proper country.
The good thing about identifying problems is that one can then decide if they are worth solving or not.
The continent and the diaspora need frameworks for engagement. Not all frameworks are government policies or laws, there are also sociocultural shifts that offer new rules of engagement. For instance, racial slurs aren’t collectively banned in the United States of America by law, but culturally. Firstly, an acknowledgement that inclusion can lead to appropriation, even if it begins as inspiration, should generate proactive conversation about creative boundaries. It is reasonable to request that, where African cultures or places are referenced, in themselves, they may no longer be considered as objects of pure inspiration but instead subjects of proper representation.
For instance, it is all well and good that in Wakandan fashion, inspiration was taken from several African cultures like Xhosa, Maasai etc but if in Wakanda there was a Maasai tribe, or a scene in a Abidjan, it is important that the culture or the place is accurately represented beyond aesthetics. Additionally, when projects around actual African cultures or places are conceived, their ideation and execution should hold space for participation by a significant number of locals, not just a handful or natives in diaspora.
This is what centering Africa looks like. However, it is important to note that appropriate creative boundaries can only be maintained if Africans themselves refuse both to perform primarily for the diasporan gaze, to empty cultural artefacts of meaning for entertainment appeal.
When considering economic inequalities caused by migration, perhaps it is too idealistic to hope that businesses can truly center people rather than profit, without becoming capitalists that perform benevolence to lower pointing fingers. Regardless, Black businesses set up in Africa should invest in locals who are willing to work right. On the other hand, positive economic policies can also look like governments providing tax incentives to local businesses, offering reasonable allowances to locals during periods of high demand.
In the end, one of the eternal conflicts European colonisation has etched into Africa is finding ways to integrate cultures that are different, even though connected by some values and shared history. The same matter presents itself now, and if allowed to play out on its own, will only find a natural end in the first beginning. Colonisation.
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