Africa Up Close

Anti-Blackness is not uniquely American, yet the solution to racism in the United States cannot neatly be transferred to countries in which white supremacy is not the root cause of their own anti-Blackness. This is not to say that white supremacy doesn’t have its tentacles around the whole world, but in most Western countries, the issue is white vs. Black. In other countries, beyond the focus of much dialogue, it’s Black vs. Blacker. Sudan, in particular, is a country in which everyone is Black in appearance, yet the racism many in the region face stems from a complicated history of Arab superiority, which I explored in detail in my last blog. Therefore, understanding how to combat racism in Sudan requires a re-examination of the way anti-Blackness is framed when it is discussed in the country.

Growing up as a Black man in the United States, I am all too familiar with how racism shows up in our society today. From slavery and Jim Crow laws of the past to police brutality and mass incarceration in the present, American racism is well documented. However, a fact that tends to be overlooked is that anti-Blackness is a global phenomenon, present in many countries. One such country is Sudan. Though I’ve grown up in the United States, my family always made sure I was in touch with my relatives overseas, and I’ve grown to love the country my parents were born in. However, as I grew older and participated in discussions with other Sudanese, I began to recognize that Sudan has its own battles when it comes to prejudices, showing up in the form of mass internalized anti-Blackness. Inspired by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement happening around me in the United States, I decided to explore the issues of colorism that have developed in Sudan over many generations.

This blog was originally posted on NewSecurityBeat, a blog of the Environmental Change and Security Program at the Wilson Center.

When Mwanahamisi Abdallah’s mother announced plans to marry her off to a stranger, the 14-year-old Tanzanian girl burst into tears. She had no desire to marry—especially after learning the man already had three wives. Remembering advice from a teacher, she phoned authorities to intervene. They blocked the wedding and eventually delivered Mwanahamisi from her village in southeastern Lindi region to a girls’ shelter in Dar es Salaam.

The implementation of the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) on January 1, 2021 can be regarded as a turning point for African regional and international trade.

A workplace without violence against women would look like a place where women feel safe, respected, and celebrated as individuals and professionals. It is a place where women do not have to tolerate inappropriate, sexual, or discriminatory remarks by others. Rather, women know that they can confidentially report and seek help if they ever feel unsafe or uncomfortable by a colleague or work partner. It is a place that will punish perpetrators. And a place where women are trusted and never blamed for any harm that comes their way.

Armed conflict is one of the biggest challenges in Africa affecting democracy, development, and the attainment of gender equality. The African Union in 2013 committed to improve the continent and adopted its 50th Anniversary Solemn Declaration, which laid out a strategic framework for Africa’s socio-economic transformation over the next 50 years dubbed “Agenda 2063.” At the center of Agenda 2063 was the aspiration for attaining a peaceful and secure Africa through a flagship campaign, “Silencing the Guns,” the goal of which was to end all wars, civil conflicts, gender-based violence, and genocidal acts on the continent by 2020.

Gender-based violence (GBV) in South Africa is a highly prevalent, complex problem affecting not only the individuals involved but also their children and families. GBV and family violence, which includes intimate partner violence (IPV) and violence against children, are intersecting problems.[1] Women and children who live in poverty and adversity are the most vulnerable, facing multiple contextual factors that both increase their risk of experiencing violence and reinforce their marginalized status.[2],[3] These individuals also face the greatest barriers and constraints to accessing support, and are the most disempowered and disenfranchised members of society. In a novel approach to addressing this problem, the Institute for Security Studies’ Justice and Violence Prevention Programme is engaging the private sector to develop a family violence prevention intervention for the workplace.

Nigeria is widely, and perhaps rightly, perceived as a conflict-prone country. In recent times, ongoing violent conflicts centered around the Boko Haram insurgency and farmer/herder tensions have dominated peacebuilding conversations. Even more recently, Nigeria has experienced the EndSARS protest and the civil disturbances that have followed. This latest conflict could nonetheless yield important lessons on crisis mismanagement, especially along the trajectory between peace and violence.

Elections in Africa often bring fear and anxiety, and some have resulted in protracted violent conflicts. Elections in 2020 come with additional threats, some beyond the control of the nations involved. The electoral processes in 2020—which will have taken place in a dozen African countries by the end of the year—are being conducted in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, with its attendant economic slowdown. More dangerously, the countries in the Sahel region— Niger, Mali, and Burkina Faso—and neighboring countries in coastal West Africa—Ghana, Togo, and Côte d’Ivoire—are seriously threatened by violent extremism. 2020 is testing the resilience of African governance institutions in the midst of old and emerging threats. On the one hand, nations administering elections are expected to perform beyond the normal to be able to contain the barrage of threats. On the other hand, over-concentration on elections may lead governments to neglect important policy measures, which could, in turn, devastate national economies by, for example, diverting resources needed for security and health.

The ranks of journalists covering conflicts and dangerous assignments in Nigeria may be depleted due to a lack of care from the society and media employers. This trend applies in other African countries and is likely to deprive the continent of necessary information that could enhance peacebuilding and nourish the growth of democracy. In the last three decades, there has been a steady escalation globally in the number of journalists jailed, killed, or maimed while covering local wars and violent civil conflicts—more so than during earlier international conflicts that featured high mortality rates among media correspondents in the Cold War decades. Between 1992-2020, about 1,378 journalists have been killed in different countries across the world, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists. In essence, there is a clear shift now from the previous assumption that more journalists tend to be killed while covering foreign wars rather than during national crises. Nowadays, more journalists are falling victim to murder and assassination by criminal gangs, as well as to infection by dangerous disease while reporting on regions affected by Ebola, SARs, and other deadly illnesses. According to global data, in 2019, 64 journalists were missing while 246 were imprisoned. So far in 2020, 26 journalists and media staff worldwide have died in the line of duty.