Originally published on Global Voices

Screenshot from Eyoha Media’s YouTube channel, showing two hooded guests facing away from the camera during a segment on disputed online donations. Fair use.

A viral act of “kindness”

A TikTok clip began circulating, filmed inside a parked car near Bole, Addis Ababa. The camera faced inward. A man called Tamru sat in the passenger seat, shoulders hunched, voice low, describing illness and daily struggle. The man behind the camera never showed his face. When Tamru finished, a hand entered the frame and pressed a folded wad of cash into his palm.

The clip first appeared on @melektegnaw_ (about 1.7 million followers), a popular TikTok handle that seemingly encourages charity. There are countless others built on the same formula: emotion as the hook, the subject as the thumbnail, a small cash handoff as “proof,” and clicks that translate into engagement and revenue.

On the recording, Tamru asked if there might be longer-term help that could put him back on his feet. The two exchanged phone numbers and a bank account. The man told him to keep praying — that the money came through prayer, and that he was merely a messenger connecting givers and the needy.

The scene hinted at transformation.

The money moved, but the promise did not

After the TikTok clip went viral, people mobilized — and so did the money. Within weeks, more than USD 1,576 (about ETB 260,000) moved through a bank account in Tamru’s name, while an estimated USD 2,120 to 2,4251 (about ETB 350,000 to 400,000) went to accounts he says were tied to associates of the masked organizer. Much of it came from members of the Ethiopian diaspora who believed they were lifting a stranger out of poverty. The funds were meant to buy Tamru a Bajaj, a three-wheeled taxi that could have put him back to work.

Instead, Tamru recalls being told over the phone by the same man who met him in person — the faceless figure in the earlier clip who filmed him handing over the wad of cash shown on TikTok to send more money for ‘tax clearance,’ ‘transport fees,’ ‘processing,’ and even ‘frozen account’ penalties. By the end, he estimates he wired USD 1,212 (about ETB 200,000) from funds deposited into his own account. Only after the promises kept shifting did he take his story public, sitting for a nearly three-hour interview on Eyoha Media, a YouTube channel with a large audience, hoping exposure might force answers.

The men behind the masks

In that interview, Tamru never mentioned @melektegnaw_, even though the clip first appeared there. Instead, he said the man behind the camera was ‘Baladeraw’ — of the TikTok channel @baladeraw — and added that when the host phoned him, he thought he recognized the voice.

Baladeraw’s “charity” brand mixes faith, emotion — and opacity. Screenshot from Baladeraw’s TikTok page. Fair use.

From my review, both channels use the same staging: hoods up, the camera fixed behind the “giver,” and slogans printed across sweatshirts — “the trustee” (ባለአደራው) and “the messenger” (መልክተኛው). They frame anonymity as religious humility. It remains unclear whether this involves two men, a coordinated group, or one operator using multiple identities.

A screenshot from @melektegnaw_  on TikTok, whose viral “charity” clips turn compassion into clicks amid growing scrutiny over how donations are handled. Fair use.

What is clear is the pattern. Both accounts follow the same template: a humanitarian persona across Facebook, YouTube, and TikTok who appears faceless, selfless, and devout. Each video traces the same emotional arc — a vulnerable subject, an anonymous “rescuer,” and a small on-camera handout — crafted to look like spontaneous charity while evading scrutiny.

Faith, optics, and profit

On Facebook and TikTok, a stream of handheld, emotional clips does most of the legitimizing. Platforms reward the optics; audiences read them as proof. A cursory look at Baladeraw turns up a Facebook page labeled “Charity Organization” and a website — trappings of credibility with little visible oversight.

That credibility converts to cash. Baladeraw reports raising more about USD 10,958.96 (more than ETB 1.5 million) through Chapa, an Ethiopian-licensed payment gateway regulated by the National Bank of Ethiopia as a “payment system operator.”

Meanwhile, both men’s TikTok presences blur personal and fundraising content. TikTok’s own rules state that fundraisers must be verified organizations — with registration, a website, and at least 1,000 followers — and, in some regions, additional tax documents. Yet these creators solicit donations as private users, outside TikTok’s verified fundraising tools, raising basic questions of compliance and transparency that the platform has not addressed.

On Facebook, Baladeraw’s “Charity Organization” page remains active, even though Meta’s policies explicitly ban charity fraud and scams. Why a masked operator with no public accounting can present as a charity remains unclear.

Anatomy of a confession that wasn’t

In a follow-up, Eyoha Media brought in both @melektegnaw_ and “Baladeraw,” hoping to settle the story. But instead of pressing for documents or receipts, the host guided Tamru toward retracting his accusations. Identities were obscured: no on-screen names or identifiers appeared; both fundraisers wore hoods, kept their backs to the camera, and only their voices were audible. No documentation was presented or reviewed. The hooded fundraisers walked away without answering how much was raised, who handled it, or whether any of it reached the beneficiary.

On his website, Baladeraw also embeds a clip from his interview with EBS, one of Ethiopia’s largest private broadcasters — hooded, facing away from the camera, his voice the only part revealed. The hosts never addressed the obvious: anonymity may be defensible when one gives their own money, but not when soliciting the public’s. Ethiopian law requires registered charities to disclose finances, keep records, and file reports. Masked fundraisers with donation links cannot claim exemption. Yet no one asked about this. The spectacle continued: the benefactor unseen, the gaze unflinching, the suffering on display.

The unmasking

In a late twist, the person behind @melektegnaw_  unmasked himself on Seifu on EBS, Ethiopia’s top late-night show, calling his work “God’s work.” He blamed impostors using look-alike accounts, said he posts beneficiaries’ own bank numbers so money goes ‘directly’ to them, and cited a 20,000 ETB (about USD 120) diversion he claims was the fault of an intermediary. He denied taking commissions, describing himself as a messenger who shares ‘verified’ cases and runs small drives like the ‘100 birr (about USD 0.60) challenge.

As in the Eyoha Media and EBS appearances, Seifu let him pass unchallenged, skipping basic questions of accountability and transparency. None of his claims were independently verified, and key issues remained unanswered: who verifies these cases, what records exist, and who is responsible when funds disappear.

The bigger story: Platforms, poverty, and profit

Ethiopia’s social media crisis is often framed around hate speech and misinformation. But scams thrive too — especially in under-served languages. In April 2023, AFP’s Ethiopia fact-check desk exposed a viral in Oromo Facebook post falsely promising “free travel to America” for two million Africans; the US Embassy confirmed it was a scam, and the link led to a job-search app, not visas.

Globally, the same pattern persists. Internal Meta documents reviewed by Reuters revealed that about 10 percent of its 2024 revenue was projected to come from ads tied to scams or banned goods. The company estimated users see 15 billion scam ads a day. In 2023, UK authorities reported that 54 percent of all payment scams involved Meta platforms.

These aren’t isolated incidents. They are symptoms of an attention economy where fraud scales faster than oversight — and where the platforms profiting from engagement have little incentive to act.

Originally published on Global Voices

The Kivu-Kinshasa green corridor in the DRC. Image from Anicet Kimonyo. Used with permission.

This article by Anicet Kimonyo was originally published by Peace News Network on October 29, 2025. An edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a media partnership agreement.

Armed conflicts in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) are fueling poverty and accelerating environmental degradation.

In North Kivu province, home to Virunga National Park, one of the oldest in Africa, nearly 50 percent of the park’s territory is now under the control of armed groups, according to an assessment by the Provincial Directorate of North Kivu of the Congolese Institute for the Conservation of Nature (ICCN) from April 2025. These groups include the Alliance Fleuve Congo (AFC)-M23 rebels, Islamist groups, and various smaller local militias, as well as Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), which has members who took part in the Rwanda Genocide in 1994.

This armed presence around the park deprives the green economy of an estimated USD 30 million a year in revenue, diverted to rebel groups, according to the report. This perpetuates a cycle of violence to the detriment of biodiversity and local development.

The DRC has officially launched, by decree, the “Kivu-Kinshasa Green Corridor” (CVKK), a colossal project that aims to combine reforestation, economic development, and the stabilization of conflict-ravaged regions. The initiative, presented by authorities as a major contribution to the fight against climate change, will nevertheless require the government to overcome numerous structural and political challenges.

Signed on January 15, 2025, by Prime Minister Judith Suminwa, Decree No. 25/01 gives substance to one of the largest greening initiatives ever conceived in Central Africa. Spanning nearly 550,000 square kilometers, including 285,000 square kilometers of primary forests and 60,000 square kilometers of peatlands, the CVKK aims to transform areas weakened by decades of violence into hubs of sustainable growth. Emmanuel de Mérode, director of the ICCN, says:

The CVKK project is considered one of the largest initiatives [in the world] on the climate issue. The Congo is providing good news, and this will continue to be noticed.

In addition to protecting the Congo Basin, described as “the world’s largest tropical forest carbon sink,” the corridor is expected to enable the annual transfer of 1 million tons of food from the Kivus to Kinshasa. This will help to feed people impacted by conflict, primarily, and the entire country, considering the agricultural potential of this Green Corridor area. A dedicated fund will be created to develop businesses along the route in renewable energy, agriculture, and logistics. The government estimates the project will require at least USD 1 billion in financing over the next three to four years.

The CVKK is structured around several pillars: sustainable agriculture, ecotourism, community forestry, and ecosystem restoration. The stated objective is to create hundreds of thousands of “green” jobs, thereby providing legal alternatives to poaching and illegal resource exploitation. Emmanuel de Mérode explains:

The corridor provides economic benefits that do not depend on forest destruction, but on sustainable production methods. Hundreds of thousands of jobs [will be] created thanks to the preservation of species and forests. The communities themselves become conservation agents.

In Bas-Uélé, forest administrator Justin Tshipopo welcomes an “opportunity to strengthen community forestry.” He emphasizes the need to take traditional knowledge into account. He said:

Communities have preserved their forests for centuries. These practices must not be forgotten.

He stresses that the corridor must become a concrete instrument of development in fragile territories, capable of generating economic opportunities and strengthening social cohesion.

Long-term success will depend on the authorities’ ability to sustainably involve local populations, integrate their ancestral knowledge, and ensure impeccable governance. The Kivu-Kinshasa Green Corridor thus presents itself as a crucial test for the DRC’s ecological and economic transition, a challenge worthy of its immense natural resources.

While the ambitions are lauded, local activists are also demanding inclusive and transparent implementation. Fanny Minesi, representing the wildlife conservation NGO Friends of Bonobos of Congo (ABC), warns against a purely technocratic approach to the project. She asserts:

Our concern is to ensure that communities are not only informed, but also that they consent to the projects and become active participants. We must ensure that projects are not designed without the communities, and that the private sector, often preoccupied with profit, is not the only one guiding the decisions.

The success of the CVKK depends on close coordination between the government, conservation agencies, the private sector, and communities. However, land tensions, weak infrastructure, and historical mistrust persist. Some local populations are wary of the project, as they believe the government wants to take their land.

Pilot initiatives in the eastern DRC and Tshopo, however, are showing encouraging results, with a measurable reduction in local violence by armed groups against civilians and improved protection of Virunga National Park. Officials say the corridor will create jobs for hundreds of thousands of people, including young people, and will help them access more economic options so they are not pressured to join armed groups due to poverty.

Already, the DRC launched Climate Week on Monday, October 27, with the aim of bringing together stakeholders in the climate sector to jointly reflect on the issues. The Congolese Minister of the Environment and Climate Economy, Marie Nyange Ndambo, said during a press conference:

Without the DRC, there are no sustainable solutions to the global climate crisis, which we have not created elsewhere.

Continuing her address to the participants of the Congolese National Climate Week, Ndambo clarified that through the Congolese National Climate Week, the DRC aims to unite the voices of civil society, indigenous peoples, and other local and national stakeholders to prepare for COP30, which will be held in Belem, Brazil, starting November 1o, with a strong and credible conviction that “reflects our priorities and realities, so that at Belem, the Congo and the Congolese people speak with one voice and affirm that the DRC is ready to assume its role as a climate leader.” Nyange added

We want every Congolese to understand that the climate is not a distant issue, it affects our daily realities and therefore protecting the environment is protecting our future.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Liz Carrigan and Safa, with visual elements from Alessandro Cripsta, used with permission.

This article was written by Safa for the series “Digitized Divides,” originally published on tacticaltech.org. An edited version is republished by Global Voices under a partnership agreement.

Social media has been a key tool of information and connection for people who are part of traditionally marginalized communities. Young people access important communities they may not be able to access in real life, such as LGBTQ+ friendly spaces. In the words of one teen, “Throughout my entire life, I have been bullied relentlessly. However, when I’m online, I find that it is easier to make friends… […] Without it, I wouldn’t be here today.” But experts are saying that social media has been “both the best thing […] and it’s also the worst” to happen to the trans community, with hate speech and verbal abuse resulting in tragic real-life consequences. “Research to date suggests that social media experiences may be a double-edged sword for LGBTQ+ youth that can protect against or increase mental health and substance use risk.” 

In January 2025, Mark Zuckerberg announced that Meta (including Facebook and Instagram) would end their third-party fact-checking program in favor of the model of “community notes” on X (formerly Twitter). Meta’s decision included ending policies that protect LGBTQ+ users. Misinformation is an ongoing issue across social media platforms, reinforced and boosted by the design of the apps, with the most clicks and likes getting the most rewards, whether they be rewards of attention or money. Research found that “the 15% most habitual Facebook users were responsible for 37% of the false headlines shared in the study, suggesting that a relatively small number of people can have an outsized impact on the information ecosystem.”

Meta’s pledge to remove their third-party fact-checking program has raised alarm bells among journalists, human rights organizations, and researchers. The UN’s High Commissioner for Human Rights, Volker Türk, said in response: “Allowing hate speech and harmful content online has real world consequences.” Meta has been implicated in or accused of supercharging the genocide of the Rohingya in Myanmar, as well as fueling ethnic violence in Kenya, Ethiopia, and Nigeria, at least in part due to the rampant misinformation on its platform. 

“We have evidence from a variety of sources that hate speech, divisive political speech, and misinformation on Facebook … are affecting societies around the world,” said one leaked internal Facebook report from 2019. “We also have compelling evidence that our core product mechanics, such as virality, recommendations, and optimizing for engagement, are a significant part of why these types of speech flourish on the platform.” The International Fact-Checking Network responded to the end of the nine-year fact-checking program in an open letter shortly after Zuckerberg’s 2025 announcement, stating that “the decision to end Meta’s third-party fact-checking program is a step backward for those who want to see an internet that prioritizes accurate and trustworthy information.”

Unverifiable posts, disordered feeds

The algorithms behind social media platforms control which information is prioritized, repeated, and recommended to people in their feeds and search results. But even with several reports, studies, and shifting user behaviors, the companies themselves have not done much to adapt their user interface designs to catch up to the more modern ways of interaction and facilitate meaningful user fact-checking.

Even when media outlets publish corrections to false information and any unsubstantiated claims they perpetuate, it isn’t enough to reverse the damage. As described by First Draft News: “It is very, very difficult to dislodge [misinformation] from your brain.” When false information is published online or in the news and begins circulating, even if it is removed within minutes or hours, the “damage is done,” so to speak. Corrections and clarifying statements rarely get as much attention as the original piece of false information, and even if they are seen, they may not be internalized.  

Algorithms are so prevalent that, at first glance, they may seem trivial, but they are actually deeply significant. Well-known cases like the father who found out his daughter was pregnant through what was essentially an algorithm, and another father whose Facebook Year in Review “celebrated” the death of his daughter, illustrate how the creators, developers, and designers of algorithmically curated content should be considerate of worst-case scenarios. Edge cases, although rare, are significant and warrant inspection and mitigation. 

Furthering audiences down the rabbit hole, there have been a multitude of reports and studies that have found how recommendation algorithms across social media can radicalize audiences based on the content they prioritize and serve. “Moral outrage, specifically, is probably the most powerful form of content online.” A 2021 study found that TikTok’s algorithm led viewers from transphobic videos to violent far-right content, including racist, misogynistic, and ableist messaging. “Our research suggests that transphobia can be a gateway prejudice, leading to further far-right radicalization.” YouTube was also once dubbed the “radicalization engine,” and still seems to be struggling with its recommendation algorithms, such as the more recent report of YouTube Kids sending young viewers down eating disorder rabbit holes. Ahead of German elections in 2025, researchers found that social media feeds across platforms, but especially on TikTok, skewed right-wing. 

An erosion of credibility

People are increasingly looking for their information in different ways, beyond traditional news media outlets. A 2019 report found that teens were getting most of their news from social media. A 2022 article explained how many teens are using TikTok more than Google to find information. That same year, a study explored how adults under 30 trust information from social media almost as much as national news outlets. A 2023 multi-country report found that fewer than half (40 percent) of total respondents “trust news most of the time.” Researchers warned the trajectory of information disorder could result in governments steadily taking more control of information, adding “access to highly concentrated tech stacks will become an even more critical component of soft power for major powers to cement their influence.” 

Indonesia’s 2024 elections saw the use of AI-generated digital avatars take center stage, especially in capturing the attention of young voters. Former candidate and now President Prabowo Subianto used a cute digital avatar created by generative AI across social media platforms, including TikTok, and was able to completely rebrand his public image and win the presidency, distracting from accusations of major human rights abuses against him. Generative AI, including chatbots like ChatGPT, is also a key player in information disorder because of how realistic and convincing the texts and images it produces. 

Even seemingly harmless content on spam pages like “Shrimp Jesus” can result in real-world consequences, such as the erosion of trust, falling for scams, and having one’s data breached by brokers who feed that information back into systems, fueling digital influence. Furthermore, the outputs of generative AI may be highly controlled. “Automated systems have enabled governments to conduct more precise and subtle forms of online censorship,” according to a 2023 Freedom House report. “Purveyors of disinformation are employing AI-generated images, audio, and text, making the truth easier to distort and harder to discern.”

As has been echoed time and again throughout this series, technology is neither good nor bad — it depends on the purpose for which it is used. “Technology inherits the politics of its authors, but almost all technology can be harnessed in ways that transcend these frameworks.” These various use cases and comparisons can be useful when discussing specific tools and methods, but only at a superficial level — for instance, regarding digital avatars which were mentioned in this piece. 

One key example comes from Venezuela, where the media landscape is rife with AI-generated pro-government messages and people working in journalism face threats of imprisonment. In response, journalists have utilised digital avatars to help protect their identities and maintain privacy. This is, indeed, a story of resilience, but it sits within a larger and more nefarious context of power and punishment. While any individual tool can reveal both benefits and drawbacks in its use cases, zooming out and looking at the bigger picture reveals power systems and structures that put people at risk and the trade-offs of technology are simply not symmetrical. 

Two truths can exist at the same time, and the fact that technology is used for harnessing strength and is used for harming and oppressing people is significant.

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo of Salma Osman Abdi by Ibrahim CM. Used with permission.

This interview was supported through the African Union Media Fellowship and the International Consulting Expertise, in partnership with the European Union.

The African Union Media Fellowship (AUMF), implemented by the African Union Information and Communication Directorate and supported by the European Union, aims to change the common narratives about Africa. 

The AUMF thus underlines the necessity of elevating African voices in international discourses. It explores how storytelling can help audiences understand how migration affects individuals, families, and society as a whole — not just through numbers and policy issues but deeply human experiences.

The series of interviews produced as a result of this project aims to highlight stories from the diaspora that cover the themes of migration, culture, creative art, community activism and international cooperation. This was more than a professional assignment; it was deep into the lives and stories of Somali diasporans in two cities that are both rich in history and alive with cultural diversity.

Many of those featured through this fellowship are people whose voices seldom get heard-entrepreneurs, community leaders, artists, and students — each in different ways making their way into the challenges and opportunities of migration. Their testimony reflected not just the private tribulations and victories but also much wider themes: Struggles of identity and belonging, where tradition meets modernity.

Salma Osman Abdi is the Executive Director of the SAFWAC Foundation, an NGO dedicated to aiding dispalced communities and refugees in Egypt. She was born and raised in Mogadishu, Somalia, but moved to Cairo, Egypt, in 2006, where she currently resides. She has been a member of the SAFWAC Foundation since its inception in 2011, serving as a co-founder. In late 2022, she was appointed by the board to take on the role of Executive Director. 

Mohamed Mohamud (MM): Could you start by telling me about yourself and your background?

Salma Osman (SO): I'm Salma Osman Abdi, a Co-founder and now Executive Director of the SAFWAC Foundation. I am originally from Somalia and currently living in Cairo, Egypt. I co-founded the organization in 2011, and toward the close of 2022, our board appointed me the Executive Director. My commitment to SAFWAC all the years of its existence has been for rather deeper purposes than any other commitment outside self and family.

MM: What motivated the establishment of SAFWAC? Can you tell me more about its mission and community service?

SO: SAFWAC Foundation stands for service and care. The organization was established to ensure a better quality of life for Somali refugees in Egypt, extending its support to other vulnerable groups as well. It became officially registered with the Egyptian Ministry of Social Solidarity in 2022.

Our mission is deeply rooted in empowering those most in need: women, children, youth, and the elderly. We provide necessary services that are specifically designed for these groups. SAFWAC has become a hub for the Somali community in Egypt, and we have expanded our reach to serve other communities, including refugees from Yemen, Palestine, Ethiopia, Sudan, South Sudan, Eritrea, Iraq, and Syria.

MM: What are the main services SAFWAC provides?

SO: We concentrate our work in five priority areas:

Education and Awareness: Organized trainings with the objective of bringing the ability and capability to improve individually for both personal and professional purposes;

Psychosocial and Legal Protection: The displaced persons undergo all manner of stresses, which make life really unbearable, and we therefore try to ameliorate the situation with counselling and legal aid to ease their lives.

Cultural and Literary Services: We encourage and support cultural awareness and literacy-the means of identity preservation and integration within host communities.

Space for Creativity: Creativity is a self-expression capability, therapeutic in nature and empowering. Thus, we provide the creative space for community members to share their talents and bond with others. 

Volunteer Preparation: Similarly, SAFWAC equips volunteers to make valuable and meaningful contributions to the community.

These services create an enabling environment for growth and interconnectivity. 

MM: Your work mainly deals with Somalis in Egypt. What are the problems they face, and how does SAFWAC try to address them?

SO: The Somali community in Egypt, particularly refugees, faces many challenges: Isolation, limited access to resources, cultural barriers, and the legal and psychosocial difficulties of displacement. SAFWAC works to bridge these gaps by offering structured and accessible services that reduce isolation and provide tools for resilience.

Our programs are holistic, addressing immediate needs like legal support while also promoting long-term empowerment through education, cultural engagement, and creativity.

MM: You’ve also mentioned that SAFWAC supports other refugees, not just Somali. For what reasons would inclusivity feature so much in your mission?

SO: Well, because vulnerability and displacement knows no nationality and groupings. We happen to mostly focus on our Somali community, but indeed we take in people right from across the region. Everyone needs to have that dignity to be themselves; hence the approach of inclusiveness makes way for a united one.

MM: SAFWAC recently expanded operations into Mogadishu. What’s the focus of your work there?

SO: In Mogadishu, our efforts focus on creating community awareness and spreading the culture of reading and literature. We strongly believe that through this, we will have more literate and culturally engaged people who will help build a better and well-informed society. This branch is still in its infancy, but it is a great step for us to be able to support Somalis both in the diaspora and back home.

MM: What impact has SAFWAC had on the communities it serves?

SO: AFWAC has touched thousands of people directly and indirectly in positive ways. Through an organized and inclusive platform, we’ve alleviated isolation and supported many people through tumultuous times. We are indeed earning an exemplary status among the Somali and general refugee communities.

MM: What is your hope for SAFWAC in the future, in relation to its work in the community it serves?

SO: The overall goal is to contribute to the development of a healthy and balanced society in which the most vulnerable population can live a dignified life and enjoy their rights. We want to expand our programs, reach more people, and make sure no one feels forgotten or left behind.

For us, the work is never complete. Each success story gives us an urge to move on further. I really do think the best years of SAFWAC lie ahead, and I look forward to what we can accomplish together.

MM: If someone is interested in supporting your work or finding out more about it, what should they do?

SO: We always welcome collaboration through volunteering, partnerships, or donations. To find out more about our programs and services, I encourage people to go online and visit our site.

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo of some of the kidnapped victims rescued by the Nigerian army. Photo by the Nigerian Army, via Facebook. Used with permission.

Tragedy struck some communities in Kwara State, Nigeria, on June 30th, when armed bandits ambushed people in Gada Woro community, Edu Local Government Area (LGA), resulting in the death of three vigilantes and leaving several security operatives injured. Seven days later, three people were kidnapped in the neighboring Gbugbu community.

In another horrible incident on September 22, 2025, bandits launched a deadly attack on the Oke Ode community in Ifelodun LGA, Kwara State, Nigeria. They killed 11 forest guards and the community head, and also kidnapped some of the residents. 

These attacks came amid a rising wave of attacks, kidnappings, and killings that have gripped communities in Kwara South and Kwara North senatorial districts in recent months.

A day after the deadly attack at Oke Ode community, September 23, bandits attacked a mining site at Agbonran community of Ifelodun LGA, killing a police officer connected with the company and abducting three other policemen. Four days later, bandits attacked the Tsaragi community of Edu LGA. After firing multiple gunshots into the air, the armed gunmen abducted a businessman named Suleiman Ndana. 

The armed bandit groups, seeing no government response or reprisal, stepped up their attacks, moving from small-scale abductions to attacking larger communities. Before the Oke Ode killings, the bandits had attacked communities such as Babanla, Baba Sango, Oreke, Ganmu Aliheri, and many others. Human Rights Watch (HRW) estimates that at least 638 villages have been attacked over the last two years across Nigeria.

These attacks have led to at least 10,000 deaths over the last two years and the displacement of many residents of the affected communities. Due to fear of potential attacks, many have fled their homes and relocated to Ilorin and other neighboring communities to seek refuge. 

The Kwara State government has closed 45 public schools in the affected areas. Residents of the neighboring communities are living in fear and appealing to the government and security agencies to intervene and protect their lives and properties. 

Reactions to the killings

After receiving intelligence about a potential attack on their community, 15 local vigilantes in Isanlu Isin attempted to repel suspected bandits in the area on September 14th. The encounter with the bandits was bloody; the bandits killed two of the local vigilantes, abducted six others, and burned 27 motorcycles to ashes. 

To draw the government's attention, angry residents in the Isin community blocked the Ilorin–Lokoja highway on September 12th. In October, young people in Tsaragi town in Edu LGA took to the streets to protest against kidnapping and banditry in the community. The Kwara South Youth Congress (KSYC) had also called on the President of Nigeria, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, to declare a state of emergency in the state. 

Citizens have also taken to social media with hashtags such as #KwaraIsBleeding and #SaveKwara to pressure the government to take action. 

While the national government has largely been silent, the Kwara State government has tried to take measures to address the issue. The state Governor, Alhaji Abdulrahman Abdulrazaq, visited the affected communities. He condemned the attacks, mourned the victims, and requested the deployment of more federal troops to curb insecurity in the state. He assured the residents that his administration will do all it could to protect their lives.

 After attending a security council meeting on October 2nd, 2025, he said:

We will fight insecurity with every resource at our disposal. Kwara will not be a hiding place for criminals. To any criminal who seeks to destabilize the peace in Kwara, you may run, but you cannot escape justice. Kwara belongs to its people, and their peace will be defended.

Other stakeholders have also taken action to address the insecurity. To enhance security measures in response to the escalating insecurity in the region, the Nigerian Army Headquarters directed the General Officer Commanding (GOC), 2nd Division in Ibadan, to relocate to Kwara State on September 28th, 2025. 

The Nigerian Senate also asked the Federal Government of Nigeria to establish a permanent military base near the forest belt of Ifelodun LGA in Kwara South as a quick reaction force to counter armed attacks in the area.

Operation Fasan Yanma

The Nigerian Army personnel have been working to restore peace in Kwara State. The Nigerian Army troops of 2 Division/Sector 3 Operation FASAN YANMA successfully rescued 21 kidnapped victims that included 4 Chinese nationals. Nine more kidnapped victims were rescued by the troops of Operation Fasan Yanma on October 13th, 2025. 

The Commander of the 22 Armoured Brigade, Brigadier General Nicholas Rume, handed over the 23 rescued hostages to the Governor of Kwara State on October 28, 2025. While receiving the hostages from the commander of 22 Armoured Brigade, the Governor commended the Nigerian Army and announced plans to deploy forest guards after the army’s cleanup to prevent ungoverned spaces and allow farmers to return to their farmlands. 

The cause of the escalating violence

The destabilization of Kwara State and North-central Nigeria has been linked to different factors such as clashes between farmers and herders, the emergence of new so-called terrorist groups, governance gaps, and bandit spillover.

Some stakeholders have claimed violent Fulani herdsmen are behind the attacks, while others blame bandit spillover due to counterterrorist campaigns in the north. For example, due to intensified counterinsurgency operations in northeast and northwest Nigeria, many attackers are fleeing into the forests of Kwara State and its neighboring areas to seek refuge. According to a report by Daily Nigerian, the Governor of Nasarawa State, Abdullahi Sule, claimed the Wulowulo and Lakurawa group, splinter groups of the Boko Haram sect, an internationally recognized terror group, are targeting farmers and villagers in North-central Nigeria, particularly in Kwara State.  

In a recent Facebook post, Sanusi Lafiagi, a public commentator and lecturer in the Department of Islamic Studies at Al-Hikmah University, expressed optimism about the improved security situation in Edu and Patigi Local Government Areas in Kwara State. Lafiagi wrote on his Facebook page:

Alhamdulillāh it's been a couple of weeks since the last reported cases of banditry in Edu and Patigi Local Government Areas. Peace and quiet are gradually returning to the once troubled and deserted villages. Kudos to the Armed forces for their sacrifices and their relentless and sustained battle against these criminal elements. Also, Kudos to the government at all levels for fulfilling their constitutional duties in spite of the challenges and setbacks.

Lafiagi suggested some solutions to the authorities to continue improving the situation. He wrote:

However, our appeals to the authorities are as follow:

1. 1. Continue the combing of our forests to destroy and eliminate the criminals completely;
   2. Ensure the immediate and safe return of all hostages to their homes and families;
   3. Establish a military base in Kwara North similar to the one in the South;
   4. Make a meaningful use of the forests, lest it becomes a base and safe haven for criminals;
   5. Equip and support the local vigilantes with sophisticated weapons to complement the efforts of the military;
   6. Support the victims of these violent crimes financially and psychologically to overcome these challenges;
   7. Improve basic amenities such as road, hospitals, schools, electricity, etc., in these communities to ease livelihoods;
   8. Establish and finance local intelligence gathering to build trust and mutual relationship between the authorities and the locals;
   9. Reduce unemployment and consumption of illicit drugs among the youth to be able to eradicate crime;
   10. Monitor and regularise mining activities, as a lot of these crimes are allegedly linked to mining;
   11. Increase border patrol and security. The porosity of our borders is a major challenge to our security.

May Allāh protect us all.

At the moment, the authorities are working to restore calm and order. Nigerian Armed Forces are still combing the forest belts in Kwara State and neighboring states such as Kogi State and Niger State in order to flush out criminals hiding in the forest. Many residents are hoping that peace and stability will return to the affected areas soon.

Originally published on Global Voices

Code projected over woman. Photo by ThisIsEngineering. Free to use via Pexels.

Can the West foster a fair and democratic process for artificial intelligence (AI) governance, or will capitalist and business interests dominate? This question has polarized the Global South, particularly Africa, highlighting the digital divide and differing perspectives between the North and South. While AI’s utility is widely acknowledged, the key issue remains: Who benefits, and what purpose does it serve?

History has shown that technological advancements in the Global North have often been accompanied by exploitation in the Global South. The Industrial Revolution, sparked by innovations like the steam engine and transportation technology, is a prime example. These technologies drove progress in the North but exacerbated exploitation in the South, fostering defensiveness and skepticism towards Northern technological dominance. This legacy continues to influence the Global South’s approach to new technologies like AI. 

Furthermore, this skepticism is also rooted in historical precedents, which have shaped how nations interact with technology. Historical precedents suggest that nations’ technological strategies can be understood through two pedagogical approaches. The “Protestant pedagogy” allows nations to apply and tailor technology to their unique cultural and socio-economic contexts, driving advancement in both culture and economics. In contrast, the “Catholic pedagogy” takes an agency form, where nations can only participate through the agency of the technology’s originators. This approach has been detrimental to Africa’s development, as seen in the extractive economies established during colonization.

As noted by Acemoglu and Robinson in their 2012 book, “Why Nations Fail,” this approach has fostered a system in which resources are controlled by external agents, thereby limiting Africa’s ability to shape its own economic destiny. 

The AI divide: A growing concern

The AI divide is stark: North America and China are poised to reap the lion’s share of AI’s economic benefits, with the Global South experiencing more moderate increases due to lower adoption rates. According to the World Economic Forum, AI is forecast to contribute USD 15.7 trillion to the global economy by 2030, with the majority of benefits going to high-income nations. This disparity underscores the need for inclusive AI development and governance.

The 2nd Conference on the State of Artificial Intelligence in Africa (COSAA) 2025, a conference aimed at providing a platform to discuss AI’s transformative potential in Africa, was met with intense skepticism and uncertainty regarding artificial intelligence. A pressing question dominated the discussion: who truly benefits from AI? This concern is well-founded, given the current dynamics. For instance, Africa generates a substantial amount of data, yet only 2 percent of data centers are located on the continent, meaning the majority of the potential benefits are directed elsewhere. Furthermore, data laborers and gig drivers in Africa face significant inequalities compared to their counterparts in the Global North, highlighting the need for more equitable distribution of benefits and opportunities in the digital economy.

Given this context, it’s concerning that the United Nations General Assembly’s response to AI’s potential for economic upliftment and bridging the economic gap is inadequate. A more concrete approach would have addressed implementation gaps, brain drain, and local context limitations. Instead, the focus shifted to AI’s military applications, particularly in warfare, as highlighted by Ukrainian President Zelensky’s emphasis on AI’s potential for weaponry development. However, the question remains: on what grounds can Africa pursue AI development, given the existing power dynamics? 

Mercantilist interests often overshadow global prosperity

The digital sphere has become accustomed to prioritizing self-serving mercantilist goals over regional, national, and global development efforts. This trend persists despite AI’s potential to uplift millions out of poverty. A recent example is the controversy surrounding the African Network  Information Center (AFRINIC), a regional internet registry for Africa. 

AFRINIC was established to promote digital sovereignty and infrastructure development in Africa by allocating IP address resources across the continent. However, the acquisition of nearly 7 million IPv4 addresses from AFRINIC by Cloud Innovation — a company founded by Chinese entrepreneur Lu Heng — has raised serious concerns. Although Cloud Innovation is formally registered in the Seychelles, the majority of its operations are based in Asia, where it leases these IP addresses to companies in China, the Philippines, and Hong Kong. This situation has sparked debate around issues of representation, inclusion, and the potential disruption of Africa’s internet ecosystem.

Consolidation and control: The future of AI

The AI race has sparked concerns about the global economy’s trajectory and security,  highlighting a trend towards consolidation. For example, the former US President Joe Biden’s administration introduced the Interim  Final Rule in January 2025, which regulates advanced chip distribution for AI, categorizing countries into tiers based on access. This policy favors the Global North, with over 90 percent of Tier 1 countries enjoying unrestricted access, while the Global South, including Africa, faces limited access in Tier 2. 

Furthermore, current US President Donald Trump plans to scrap this system and engage countries directly for chip access, which may not necessarily improve the situation, as it could lead to a more fragmented and potentially unequal landscape.

Many countries in the Global South, particularly those in  Africa, despite possessing significant reserves of critical minerals used in chip manufacturing, often lack the leverage, expertise, and negotiating power to effectively bargain with the US  government and secure favorable terms, potentially limiting their economic benefits from these resources and exacerbating the problem. The discovery of petroleum in African countries like Nigeria, Angola, and Gabon illustrates this point. Despite vast oil reserves, these countries often struggle to negotiate favorable deals with multinational corporations, leading to unequal revenue sharing, limited economic benefits, and dependence on foreign expertise. 

The Global South’s readiness for AI: Challenges and concerns

The Global South faces significant challenges in adapting to AI, particularly in data collection and management. One major issue is the current state of data collection standards. The three common methods are self-production, repositories, and sites, which can be tedious and time-consuming. Moreover, maintaining a consistent approach to data collection is crucial, but integrating data from foreign sources can introduce existing biases and perpetuate structural inequalities. 

Another significant challenge is the lack of a structured data ecosystem in Africa, because of the continent’s nascent presence in the field. This raises concerns about data transferability, given the varying data policies, laws, and enforcement mechanisms across countries in the Global South, particularly in Africa. For instance, over 40 countries have enacted data protection laws, creating complexity and potential fragmentation. 

These challenges highlight the need for a more coordinated and inclusive approach to AI  development in the Global South, one that prioritizes data quality, consistency, and fairness. By addressing these issues, we can ensure that AI benefits the Global South and promotes equitable development. 

The road towards legitimacy

The West has the power to make AI a legitimate tool for human advancement by adhering to democratic values as a fundamental characteristic. This journey begins with inclusivity and participation, engaging stakeholders across regions and countries to understand unique challenges and aspirations.

This collaborative approach promotes accountability and transparency, building trust between citizens and authorities. Transparency is crucial as AI systems make decisions impacting lives, and clear explanations empower citizens to understand choices and hold authorities accountable. 

Fairness and non-discrimination are essential principles, promoting social justice and equity while respecting human rights and diversity. Human oversight and regulation are vital, with robust frameworks governing AI development and deployment. 

To realize AI’s potential, governments, regional, and international organizations must collaborate to harness its power as a force for uplift. The United Nations should prioritize restoring confidence in AI by aligning it with global initiatives like the Sustainable Development Goals and data privacy laws. 

The UN can facilitate this by collaborating with regional institutions to align goals with international standards and promote responsible AI practices. Regional organizations should work together to ensure seamless data sharing, digital law enforcement, and high standards for data collection and protection, prioritizing language and cultural integration to benefit all communities.

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo of the Buea National Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration Committee for ex-fighters of Boko Haram and armed groups in the North-West and South-West Regions, from their archives, used with permission.

This work was produced as a result of a grant provided by the Cameroon Association of English-Speaking Journalists (CAMASEJ) as part of a project funded by Open Society Foundations.

What began in 2016 as a social uprising in Cameroon’s English-speaking regions has degenerated into a profitable business: Armed groups now sustain the Anglophone crisis through a brutal system of kidnappings, extorting at least USD 7,884,000 (FCFA 4.5 billion) from civilians in 2023 alone.

It all started as a plea for financial support. A phone call from an unknown number, asking those who hailed from Cameroon’s English-speaking regions to contribute to a struggle for liberation from marginalization. That plea has curdled into a threat. The “struggle” has today transformed into a full-blown business. The “War Generals” are now the executives of this enterprise. Kidnapping is their business strategy. Ransom payments and levies are their profit. Families, teachers, principals, and farmers are the collateral damage, facing both fear and financial turmoil.

Audrey Shiynyuy, who recounts her story with quiet contempt, lost her father the first time the separatist fighters, commonly known as “Amba boys,” came. They dragged her dad into the bush and set a price on his life. Her family paid the ransom. The justification: “to support the struggle.” He later returned home, and the family dared to hope. But when the fighters came again, they didn’t ask for money. They killed him. The initial payment had not bought freedom; it had merely financed a delay. This is the central paradox of a conflict devouring its own people.

The brutal conflict between government forces and separatist fighters seeking an independent state called Ambazonia has, in nine years and counting, claimed over 6,000 lives as of 2024, according to Human Rights Watch, and displaced more than 1.1 million people, per the Norwegian Refugee Council. Widely known as the Anglophone Crisis, the conflict has its roots in the historical marginalization of Cameroon’s English-speaking minority by the French-speaking majority government.

What started as peaceful protests by lawyers and teachers in 2016 over the imposition of the French language and law system in their courts and schools escalated dramatically following a violent crackdown by government forces.

As the conflict hardened, kidnapping evolved into its most lucrative industry. A 2023 study by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organized Crime, drawing from ACLED data, recorded nearly 450 ransom abductions in the Anglophone regions, more than double the estimated 200 in 2022. Each abduction finances the next, trapping civilians in a cycle of violence and economic despair. Recent statistics are difficult to come by due to the stigma and fear of recurrence when a kidnapping case is reported.

The human ledger

The ledger of this war economy is written in the scars and minds of survivors. Journalist Fred Vubem Toh’s entry began on the Bambui-Babanki road. It was 3 pm when three armed men emerged from the bush and surrounded him at gunpoint.

A risky motorbike ride took him deep into a remote camp. His crime, they said, was being “an agent of La Republique.” His fine: USD 20,500 [FCFA 12.5 million] or death. “I had to give five guns and each gun costs USD 4,100[(FCFA 2.5 million],” said Toh. When he pleaded poverty, the negotiations turned violent.

They started beating me with planks and machetes… The more I pleaded, it made them angry. I saw it as their excuse to take my life.

His escape was not negotiated; it was seized. On the second day, with only one guard present, Toh feigned an upset stomach. Left alone, he ran.

I started running and I leaped over a log of wood and fractured my leg without even realizing.

For three days, he crawled, hiding under tree trunks as his pursuers combed the forest. A farmer eventually helped him under the cover of darkness.

His survival is a story of fortitude, but his liberation revealed a deeper failure. Even after providing the military and the Governor’s office with a detailed map of his captivity site, he did not receive any help from the government. He says:

I am shocked that till now nothing has been done. I learnt that the boys come out to the road everyday… and kidnap people and impose a daily levy. The population suffers.

The science behind the war economy

Okha Naseri Clovis, a former “Amba boy” now disarmed and registered with the National Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration Committee (NDDRC), explains the pivot from ideology to profit. He told Global Voices:

Civilians were never our target but became due to how expensive our generals saw it was to run a war and an army. They had to resort to feed from and hurt the very people they claimed to be protecting.

He points to a single, transformative event: the kidnapping of Tunisian construction workers on the Kumba-Bakassi road some years ago. Clovis recounts:

My General at the time, General Lake, asked for USD 147,500 [FCFA 90 million] and the company paid USD 82,000 [FCFA 50 million] cash up front.  Victims are kept and tortured in a room.

Payments flow through mobile money transfers and occasionally cash, allowing the perpetrators to amass huge digital fortunes. Clovis states:

In a day they can smoke drugs worth over 5 million and buy guns from our suppliers in Nigeria. One bullet is over USD 4.10 [FCFA 1,800] … which is why when we kidnap someone, our goal is to get as much money as possible.

The cost is extracted person by person. Godwin Benyella, Principal of the secondary school GBHS Atiela, has two entries in this ledger. He says, the memory still fresh. The first was an attempted kidnapping where his son was shot.

 At 9 am in broad daylight… blood was oozing from my child’s leg.

The second time, he and his vice-principals were abducted from his office. Their salvation came from a desperate bluff.

I had an iPhone and I discovered they do not like taking an Apple gadget… I told them there is a tracker in my car which will be followed.

Spooked, the fighters hastily demanded millions. The money was sent by his wife, “bit by bit.”

Bin Joachem Meh, Director of Academic and Research at the Yaounde International Business School and an economist, describes the demands for ransom as a sophisticated economic system. He explains:

Ransom money moves through the local economy… via a multi-layered process that blends coercion with commerce.

The process begins with the liquidation of a family’s assets. The cash then enters a shadow ecosystem. A portion is immediately “cashed out” for daily needs, “injecting illicit capital directly into local markets, thereby creating a perverse form of economic stimulus under duress.” The rest is reinvested in the conflict, in weapons, logistics, and salaries, transforming victims into financiers of the violence that plagues them. The macro-effect is devastating. Meh describes “severe market distortions” and a “predatory redistribution of wealth” that forces families to sell productive assets like land, creating intergenerational poverty. Meh states:

The conclusion is inescapable. Yes, ransom payments have helped sustain or even prolong the conflict. They provide a reliable, internally-generated revenue stream… Transforming kidnapping into a profitable enterprise, makes political resolution economically disadvantageous for those who profit from the ongoing instability.

Nothing changes if nothing changes

Now a peace activist with My Kontri People Dem (MKPD), Clovis is back in school, months away from earning his Bachelor’s degree in transport and logistics. He maintains ties with the battlefield he calls “ground zero,” encouraging communities to unite, protect themselves, and chase the Amba boys out. He says:

The war has become a business which everyone benefits from.

He explains that many of today’s generals are “hardened criminals” recruited from prisons, a plan that “backfired.” Their goal is enrichment, not liberation. “When kidnappings are not bringing money, they enter the streets and catch people for a levy.” The ideological struggle has been hollowed out, replaced by the relentless pursuit of profit.

Statistics from the National Disarmament, Demobilization and Reintegration Committee (NDDRC), show that as of September 15, 2025, 373 men, 111 women and 75 children have dropped their weapons and are going through their reintegration process in the North West Region in the Bamenda centre.  In the South West region, Buea centre, 651 men, 30 women, and 23 children are now registered as ex-combatants. Governors of both regions say in media reports that efforts are being put in place to protect civilians. But many say they feel abandoned — forced to continue funding the very problem that kills them.

Global context

Cameroon’s ransom-fueled silent crisis mirrors crises unfolding in parts of Nigeria, Mali, and Haiti, where armed groups sustain themselves through kidnappings. It reflects a growing global pattern: when conflict becomes profitable, peace becomes bad business. The international community’s muted response and local fatigue have normalized this invisible economy of suffering. Yet for thousands of Cameroonians, the daily cost of survival is measured in fear, loss, and cash. In this marketplace of war, human life has become the currency, and every ransom paid buys another bullet, so until real action is taken, the cycle continues.

Originally published on Global Voices

Photo of so-called Talibé children. Image by Soumaila Aya. Used with permission.

In the major cities of Central Sahel countries, such as Niamey in Niger, Bamako in Mali, and Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso, an alarming phenomenon of child begging has become an everyday reality.

Often dressed in rags with a bowl in hand, these children are a sorry sight on the streets. They represent only the tip of the iceberg of a more profound social phenomenon that’s not only mismanaged or ignored by politicians but also normalized by the public.

This situation reflects the socio-political challenges of the Central Sahel countries, where poverty is high. According to the latest national figures, in 2021, around 43 percent of Burkina Faso’s population lived below the poverty line, 45.5 percent in Mali, and 47.4 percent in Niger in 2023. These figures highlight the region’s persistent poverty, which is compounded by worsening security and climate challenges.

The three Central Sahel countries have a combined population of approximately 77 million, with over 28 million in Niger, over 25 million in Mali, and over 24 million in Burkina Faso. According to the Malian Coalition for the Rights of Children (COMADE), more than 20,000 children in Mali are forced to beg on the streets, 43 percent of whom are girls. In Niger, an Anti Slavery (London-based NGO) investigation surveyed 86,824 students in 1,543 Quranic schools, 76,080 of whom are victims of forced begging. In Burkina Faso, although there are no official figures, organizations consider forced child begging a major problem.

Talibé children, teaching or exploitation?

In these three Sahel countries, Islam is the most widely practiced religion among their populations: with more than 60 percent in Burkina Faso, over 95 percent in Mali, and 99 percent in Niger.

A Talibé child is a child whose parents send them to Quranic teachers to receive an Islamic religious education. The state has no oversight over these Quranic schools.

In many cases, the children supposed to receive a Quranic education are exploited to become sources of income, often to the detriment of the original spiritual intention.

In 2017, ​a Human Rights Watch report found that over 50,000 Talibé children in Senegal are forced to beg daily, often under the threat of physical violence. These children are subject to multiple risks: violence, exploitation, abuse, and social marginalization.

This phenomenon reflects a flagrant violation of children’s rights, depriving them of their fundamental right to education, protection, and a fulfilling childhood. A Talibé child told Global Voices:

Chaque jour, mon maître m’envoie mendier dans les rues de San (ville située au centre du Mali à 422 Km de Bamako) et, si je ne rapporte pas la somme demandée, je suis menacé ou battu. Je marche longtemps, souvent pieds nus et sans manger, avec la peur de rentrer les mains vides. Je ne vais pas à l’école, même si je rêve d’apprendre à lire et écrire pour devenir fonctionnaire. Ce qui me rend le plus triste, c’est la faim, la violence et le mépris des passants, mais parfois un sourire, un morceau de pain ou un moment de jeu me redonnent un peu de joie.

Every day, my teacher sends me to beg on the streets of San (a town in central Mali, 422 km from the capital, Bamako) and, if I don’t bring back the requested amount, I’m threatened or beaten. I walk a long way, often barefoot and without eating, in fear of coming back empty-handed. Although I dream of learning to read and write to become a civil servant, I don’t go to school. What makes me most sad is the hunger, violence, and disregard of passersby. However, sometimes a smile, a piece of bread, or some playtime brings me a little joy.

​Vulnerability exacerbated by state inaction

​For years, various factors have pushed Sahel families into extreme hardship. According to the UNICEF report, “Child alert: Extreme jeopardy in the Central Sahel (2023),” a combination of economic, social, and family factors makes this region a prime setting for child begging. The lack or loss of family support due to conflicts or forced displacement forces many children, left to their own devices, to earn a living for themselves.

As such, numerous citizen initiatives have now emerged to help these children. For example, in Burkina Faso, the Suudu Baaba association aims to improve children’s quality of life with sustainable community action. In Mali, the Samusocial association provides psychosocial and medical support. What’s more, awareness-raising and digital campaigns are also attempting to break the silence and attract the authorities’ attention.

​In this region, government action on this matter remains grossly inadequate. For example, although the authorities in Niger have banned child begging in its capital, Niamey, this welcome measure is difficult to implement due to the magnitude of the phenomenon and the lack of alternative solutions for families and Quranic schools. As the matter is considered culturally sensitive and not a political priority, it often falls by the wayside. A Save the Children report confirmed that armed groups frequently recruit thousands of street children in these countries. The report states:

Dans ces pays, où 60% à 90% de la population est musulmane, le discours religieux y est utilisé comme un moyen efficace de ralliement des adolescents. Ce discours idéalise le rôle du combattant en mettant en exergue des promesses soit pour le bonheur ici-bas soit pour une récompense dans l’au-delà.

In these countries, where 60 percent to 90 percent of the population is Muslim, religious rhetoric is used as an effective means of rallying young people. This rhetoric idealizes the fighter’s role, promising happiness in this life and reward in the next.

Begging children face harsh living conditions, compromising their development. Malian building contractor, Gédéon Sangare, told Global Voices:

Je croise des dizaines d’enfants livrés à eux-mêmes dans les rues. Ils mendient pour survivre, mais derrière cette réalité se cache une violence silencieuse : beaucoup sont exploités et battus. Ce qui est inadmissible, c’est le silence des autorités face à ce drame. La mendicité infantile est trop souvent considérée comme une fatalité culturelle, alors qu’elle représente une véritable urgence sociale et sécuritaire. Certains anciens talibés devenus ouvriers racontent qu’ils n’ont appris aucun métier qui puisse leur garantir un avenir digne à l’âge adulte.

I pass dozens of children left to fend for themselves on the streets. They beg to survive, but behind this reality hides a silent violence. Many are exploited and beaten. What’s unacceptable is the authorities’ silence on this tragedy. Child begging is too often considered a cultural forgone conclusion, when it’s actually a social and security emergency. Some Talibés turned workers explain how they haven’t learned any trade that guarantees them a dignified future as adults.

An at-risk generation

The normalization of child begging is a ticking time bomb for the Sahel’s future. This generation, deprived of opportunities, risks resigning themselves to poverty and survival by begging. Not only does this threaten their personal development, but it also threatens the social and economic stability of the region as a whole. In Niger, the Nigerian Association for the Treatment of Delinquency and Crime Prevention’s (ANTD) March 2020 report outlined how the exploitation of Talibés extends beyond local boundaries and must, therefore, be considered a regional phenomenon. The report states:

Les logiques de trafic et d’exploitation des talibés s’inscrivent dans des dynamiques migratoires locales et régionales (pays limitrophes mais aussi du plus large bassin Sahélien et de l’Afrique Centrale), et doivent donc être analysées en vue de ces interactions.

The Talibé trafficking and exploitation patterns are part of the local and regional migration trends (neighboring countries, but also the wider Sahel basin and Central Africa). We must, therefore, analyze them in light of these connections.

Alassane Maiga, a Malian civil society member and specialist in protection, social cohesion, and community resilience, told Global Voices:

La mendicité infantile au Sahel s’inscrit souvent dans un contexte religieux où les enfants (Talibés) confiés à des maîtres coraniques mendient sous pretexts de se forger une résilience spirituelle. Toutefois, cette apparence masque la précarité profonde des familles, dont la pauvreté pousse les enfants à mendier pour survivre.

In the Sahel, child begging often involves religion, where the children (Talibés) who are sent to Quranic teachers beg under the pretext of building a spiritual resilience. However, beneath this guise lies the profound precariousness of families, whose poverty forces the children to beg to survive.

Considering the magnitude of the problem, governments must collaborate with civil society and international organizations to align their efforts. After all, the higher the number of children without access to vocational education, the greater the risk of turning to delinquency and non-state armed groups, threatening the Sahel’s stability.

Originally published on Global Voices

Electricity pylons. Image from Raw Pixel via CC0 license

This article was submitted as part of the Global Voices Climate Justice fellowship, which pairs journalists from Sinophone and Global Majority countries to investigate the effects of Chinese development projects abroad. Find more stories here.

Chinese state media loves reporting about the country’s work in Africa, frequently touting positive, feel-good stories featuring solar farms glistening in the desert, hydropower dams promising prosperity, and transmission lines stretching across valleys. It is a narrative of light, progress, and friendship, in which Beijing plays a key role in helping Africa leap into a green future.

But beyond the glowing headlines lies a more complicated truth that many Chinese narratives overlook. Much of the money used to pay for these expensive development projects is financed through loans, which African countries will fund with tomorrow’s oil and cobalt, thereby trading future resources for today’s power.

It’s also unfair to blame China — as most global research papers and human rights organizations have done for decades — for looking to invest in Africa. Under a framework of win–win, China is giving loans and vowing to help African countries become more energy-friendly and follow a model of sustainable development, while also finding a lucrative market for its green industries, which have been stifled by overcapacity domestically.

This point is also supported by a new working paper from Boston University’s Global Development Policy Center. The study shows that between 2012 and 2020, Chinese development finance significantly reduced energy poverty in more than 850 regions across Africa. This doesn’t look like a country trying to recolonize Africa, as many Western narratives allege. It suggests instead that China is filling a gap left by others, using its loans to bring real electricity to communities long neglected by Western aid and investment.

Funding the green energy transition

A solar grid. Image from Wikimedia Commons. CC-BY-SA 4.0

It’s been on international media headlines and panel discussions for years that while China is a key player in funding electrification — particularly through hydropower, transmission lines, and, increasingly, solar energy — its financial institutions are also deeply invested in extractive industries. But twelve years after China first launched its Belt and Road Initiative, its global infrastructure and connectivity project, is that still the case? How has China’s approach changed over the years?

Chinese lenders accounted for approximately 12 percent of Africa’s external debt as of 2020, making it the continent’s single largest bilateral creditor, according to the think-tank Democracy in Africa.

In 2024, Chinese President Xi Jinping made a high-profile commitment to African leaders to facilitate greater investment in Africa. To help realize Xi’s promises, China has established many new development projects and funds in Africa, including the launch of the Special Fund for the China–Africa Green Industrial Chain (中非绿色产业链专项资金), which is meant to help finance Africa’s green energy transition.

With a total size of RMB 5 billion (about USD 700 million), the fund supports cooperation across the entire green industrial chain — from upstream to downstream — focusing on clean energy, green transport, critical minerals, and the green upgrading of traditional industries. In addition, the China–Africa Development Fund has signed memoranda of understanding with huge Chinese companies, including CNBM, Guangxi Liugong Machinery, JD Technology, Ganfeng Lithium, and Beijing Wenhua Online, signaling broader ambitions to link African projects with Chinese corporate players.

African heads of state alongside Chinese President Xi Jinping at the 2018 Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC) Summit in Beijing, China. Image from GovernmentZA Flickr. License CC BY-ND 2.0.

Chinese officials present the story as one of progress and partnership. At the 2024 Beijing FOCAC summit, Xi Jinping vowed to build an “all-weather China–Africa community with a shared future” (新时代全天候中非命运共同体). The Ministry of Commerce described China–Africa cooperation as “mutually empowering and complementary” (中非经贸合作双向赋能，优势互补), designed to create “a new model of global value chain cooperation” (打造全球价值链合作新范式).

Official figures also reinforce this upbeat narrative as Chinese media highlights that “China has remained Africa’s largest trading partner for 16 consecutive years” (中国已连续16年保持非洲第一大贸易伙伴国地位). The government also points out that Chinese technology exports are rising, further supporting Africa’s green transition:

尤其近年来对非出口新能源汽车、锂电池、光伏产品快速增长，有力支持了非洲绿色能源转型。

In recent years, exports of new energy vehicles, lithium batteries, and photovoltaic products to Africa have grown rapidly, providing strong support for Africa’s green energy transition.

Indeed, the scale of lending is huge. In just the past few years, billions of dollars in new loans, funds, and projects have flowed into African countries. A Boston University working paper, using a panel dataset covering 2012–2020 across 850 subnational regions in Africa, also examines and proves the effectiveness of China’s overseas development finance in the energy sector in Africa, finding that “China-financed power generation capacity in Africa was effective in combating energy poverty at the subnational level.” 

Economic sovereignty

While politicians and some media outlets have been lauding the loans, economists are less optimistic. African Development Bank President Akinwumi Adesina has been outspoken about the risks:

“I think it’s time for us to have debt transparency, accountability, and make sure that this whole thing of these opaque natural resource-backed loans actually ends, because it complicates the debt issue and the debt resolution issue.”

In another warning, he said that the problem is not specific to China but the model itself: “Any country can exploit when you don’t know what you are doing … the capacity to negotiate, the capacity for debt management is very important.” 

These concerns point directly to the heart of the contradictions: loans that light up clinics and schools are often traded for oil, cobalt, or other resources. The contracts are opaque, and when commodity prices fall, governments are left more indebted than before.

Dr. Poussi Sawadogo, adiplomat and teacher-researcher at the Free University of Burkina (ULB), believes that while the risk isn’t exclusive to China, the hefty loans still pose a significant risk. In an interview with the Anadolu Agency in Ouagadougou, he shared:

La dette chinoise en Afrique est à la fois une opportunité et un danger pour l'Afrique tout comme les dettes des pays occidentaux et des institutions internationales.

… Bien gérée, elle permettra aux pays du continent africain de se développer. Minée par la mal gouvernance, elle privera l'Afrique de son potentiel de développement. Qu'elle vienne de la Chine, de la France ou des États-Unis, la dette est un outil de domination.

Chinese debt in Africa is both an opportunity and a danger for Africa, just like the debts of Western countries and international institutions.

… Well managed, it will allow the countries of the African continent to develop. Undermined by bad governance, it will deprive Africa of its development potential. Whether it comes from China, France, or the United States, debt is a tool of domination.

Experts warn that if Africa’s international debt keeps mounting, some countries could face increased instability and even be compelled to transfer key pieces of infrastructure to other countries if the debt becomes insurmountable.

International organizations have widely discussed Africa’s current debt crisis. Yet China’s new promises have not completely corrected the problem. As the World Bank notes, “resource-backed loans … are often opaque: little is disclosed about their contractual terms, which means public accountability can be hard to ensure.”

The International Energy Agency (IEA) also points out that “many African governments face challenges in financing clean energy projects due to public funding constraints such as high debt servicing costs.” Together, these warnings suggest that while China’s new funds may ease Africa’s energy poverty, they have not addressed the underlying risks of debt, transparency, and dependency.

The debate becomes clearer when looking at specific country cases.

An industrial mining site in the DRC. Image from Flickr. CC BY-SA 2.0

Media investigations have documented how China’s loans have played out differently across Africa. In the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Reuters reported on cobalt-for-infrastructure deals that sparked both growth and controversy. In Nigeria, Bloomberg highlighted oil-backed loans tied to new power projects. In Kenya, the Financial Times traced how Chinese-built transmission lines helped expand the grid but raised concerns over rising debt.

Media investigations have documented how China’s loans have played out differently across Africa. In the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), cobalt-for-infrastructure deals sparked both growth and controversy. In Nigeria, Bloomberg highlighted oil-backed loans tied to new power projects. In Kenya, the Financial Times traced how Chinese-built transmission lines helped expand the grid but raised concerns over rising debt.

Likewise, in South Africa, Chinese state-media outlet Xinhua celebrated the launch of the TFC solar project as a milestone of “green partnership.” However, local Kenyan media painted a different story — one filled with grievances from the local community surrounding the Garissa solar project. For instance, one local resident told The China-Global South Project:

Although we have plenty of power now, my monthly bills have become very expensive, and I can’t always afford to pay them. Sometimes my supply gets disconnected because of delayed payments.

This shows that while electricity access has improved, affordability and reliability remain serious concerns.

From the DRC, affected communities around the Sicomines copper-cobalt project told NGO monitors (via AidData) that they were “deprived of their rights after polluting the environment … forced evictions … poor compensation … fields and agricultural infrastructure near the mining site were destroyed.”

Together, these examples reveal the dual logic at work — electrification on the surface, extraction underneath. 

Originally published on Global Voices

Man sitting on grass while taking photo in Kampala, Uganda. Photo by Morriz 95. Free to use via Pexels.

This article by Meagan Doll was originally published by Peace News Network on September 8, 2025. An edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a media partnership agreement.

Against the backdrop of several protracted conflicts worldwide — such as South Sudan, Ukraine, and Gaza, among others — conflict reporting is top of mind for media professionals and peacekeepers alike. After all, journalism has long been celebrated for its ability to reveal hidden truths, hold power to account, and tell stories in the public interest. Despite these promises, however, existing research on the role of news during conflict paints a less encouraging picture. The lion’s share of work demonstrates that such reporting tends to be inflammatory and overly sensational, at times resulting in increased cynicism and negative sentiments toward marginalized groups.

Some have proposed peace journalism as an alternative reporting approach. Developed by Norwegian sociologist and peace researcher Johan Galtung, peace journalism focuses on structural causes of conflict, multiparty interactions, and opportunities for peacemaking through careful attention to word choice and broad framing narratives. Of course, such emphases are not typically communicated uniformly through journalism education nor necessarily picked up on the job.

Instead, principles of peace journalism are often delivered to media professionals through specialized trainings or workshops, many of which are hosted in and across East Africa. But what do journalists who attend these trainings get out of them, and what are the implications of this for conflict reporting?

What peace journalism means to peace journalists in East Africa

Regarding what peace journalism means to peace journalists in East Africa, the quick answer is: It depends. An interview-based study of practitioners who attended peace journalism trainings in Kenya, Rwanda, South Sudan, and Uganda revealed that journalists tended to understand peace journalism in one of two ways: the reporting focused either on communities impacted by conflict or on policies to address that conflict. These perceptions varied based on the precarity of one’s professional position. For example, entry-level journalists or reporters working in remote areas with relatively few resources were likelier to emphasize aspects of peace journalism concerned with victims of violence and reconciliation framing. In contrast, more established media professionals and those working in larger, well-resourced organizations tended to focus on policy recommendations for elite audiences, including third-party interventions.

Perceptions of peace journalism

What do these different perceptions of peace journalism mean for conflict reporting and peacekeeping?

First, it is worth acknowledging that peace journalism comprises more than a dozen popularly recognized practices, and varied interpretations should be acknowledged and perhaps expected. Stories with policy solutions and community impact both contribute to peace journalism storytelling, and one is not necessarily superior to the other. Instead, these different understandings underscore the need for training and guidelines that take journalists’ professional constraints into consideration.

The most suitable or effective conflict reporting workshops, for instance, should tailor content for the type of positions media professionals occupy, acknowledging the different realities of such work. This might entail, for example, peace journalism workshops focused on editing for supervisors who primarily oversee the work of others, whereas journalists in the field would benefit from more tangible peace journalism tools, such as safety guides or interview training. Such considerations can be expanded to include journalists’ social and cultural identities, where certain practices may take on new meaning or challenges for women or within certain religious environments.

Implications for peacekeeping more broadly

With respect to implications for peacekeeping more broadly, variability in journalists’ understandings of peace journalism underscores a fundamental truth in peace studies and conflict response: Journalism is just one piece of the puzzle.

Actors from many sectors must be committed to non-violence and justice on the long road to lasting and transformational peace. Some have critiqued peace journalism based on the misunderstanding that news media can, or should, bear responsibility for addressing conflict alone. The fluidity in journalists’ understandings of and engagement with peace journalism thus serves as a reminder that we shouldn’t essentialize peace journalism as a silver bullet solution that can bring about peace or end conflicts alone.

Journalism’s first responsibility in any society is to inform — not to engage in complex political negotiations or develop peace plans — even while the ways that media professionals report on these topics can certainly shape how audiences perceive their value and viability.

To this point, the diversity in perceptions and experiences that journalists bring to conflict reporting should not be viewed an obstacle to comprehensive or ethical peace journalism. Rather, such perspectives can be harnessed to report stories from a variety of angles and vantage points, which together aid peacekeeping forces, public officials, and multilateral organizations in imagining creative solutions toward conflict resolutions.

Taken to the extreme, for as many journalists as there are reporting on a given conflict, just as many unique stories and frames can be produced in service of avoiding the common traps of conventional war journalism. In fact, very few conflicts have been solved with single, silver-bullet solutions, so this diversity of perceptions and understandings may very well be key to solving what feel like otherwise intractable conflicts around the world.

Originally published on Global Voices

A rural public primary school classroom outside Antsiranana, Madagascar. Image from Wikimedia Commons. CC BY-SA 3.0

By Jimmy Andriatsimialina

Education in Madagascar has faced severe challenges over the last 20 years. From primary school through university, too many students struggle to acquire basic skills, and the system provides limited support to teachers. Poor infrastructure, a lack of materials, difficult learning environments, and a severe shortage of teachers compound to create a system where young people are not getting adequate education.

Furthermore, many children leave school without basic literacy skills, and graduates often experience underemployment, which threatens long-term economic and social decline. Additionally, many skilled students opt to migrate abroad, further depleting the national talent pool and perpetuating the education crisis.

Broken foundations

The root of the trouble begins in primary school. According to World Bank data from 2025, only 66.6 percent of girls and 60.6 percent of boys in Madagascar complete primary school, while the world average is 88.3 percent. This rate continues to drop as children age, with a gross enrollment rate in secondary education of 36 percent for girls and 34 percent for boys, and a gross enrollment rate in tertiary education of only six percent across genders.

Many who remain in school do not reach expected learning outcomes. According to a press release from the World Bank, only 25 percent of children in Madagascar are able to read proficiently upon finishing primary school. The report also noted a high repetition rate of 25.3 percent in public schools, which is twice the Sub-Saharan Africa average.

This can partly be attributed to a high reliance on underqualified community teachers (FRAM, short for Fikambanan'ny ray aman-drenin'ny mpianatra), according to the Education Solidarity Network. The local parent associations recruit and pay teachers when the government cannot. Even though these teachers are vital to the system since they are still better than having no teachers at all, they are often under-resourced. Around 60 percent of the primary and preschool teaching workforce in the country were headed by FRAMs in 2024. Most of them are unqualified and lack the most basic skills to teach.

In Madagascar, the pupil-to-teacher ratio (PTR) in primary education is 39.81, meaning that on average, there is one teacher for roughly 40 primary school students. This is slightly lower than the average PTR in primary school for low-income countries, which is 41.92.

On top of that, infrastructure is critically lacking. In some secluded parts of the country, there are often no schools at all, or only one three-classroom school for a rural area with hundreds of children. Recurring natural disasters like cyclones destroy 1,000–2,000 classrooms each year, making it challenging to maintain infrustructure.

The country invests only 2.8 percent to 3 percent of its GDP in education, and only 0.1 percent in research, which is below the regional average of 3.7 percent and about 5 percent in high-income countries. Schools must operate with damaged roofs, missing textbooks, and crowded classrooms. The World Bank has warned about the urgent need for investment in education in Madagascar.

A strain on higher education

Universities also face structural challenges. About 70 percent of courses are taught by non-civil servant faculty — many of whom have dealt with years of unpaid salaries. This has caused course suspensions, sometimes lasting several months. Teachers, maintenance workers, and students are promised salaries and scholarships, and though they are largely insufficient to meet people’s needs, the colleges often fail to deliver them altogether, leaving students and employees destitute. Numerous protests have broken out over these unpaid dues, further disrupting people’s education.

In May 2024, demonstrations erupted at ESPA (Ecole Supérieure Polytechnique d’Antananarivo) and other public universities across the country. Students demanded payment of delayed scholarships and repairs to infrastructure: unsafe dormitories, inconsistent water supplies, and unstable internet are just a few of the infrastructure challenges they face.

New campuses are opening in regions that lack sufficient faculty, laboratories, or libraries. Expansion often prioritizes access over quality.

These actions reflect the long-lasting and growing frustration with systemic neglect of the education sector. This, in combination with other government failures, spurred the events of September 25, 2025, that led to the impeachment of Andry Rajoelina on October 14, 2025.

From learning to employment?

Today’s graduates face one of the continent’s highest youth unemployment rates. Youth ages 15–30 account for 70 percent of the unemployed; most of those who find employment do so outside their field: engineers take taxi jobs, biologists work as clerks, and teachers seek informal income.

Hasina, armed with a Master I degree in Domestic and International Public Law and a Master II in Political Science, intended to become a Diplomatic or Consular Officer. Instead, she works as a versatile assistant in a construction startup, juggling accounting, HR, and administrative tasks. She told Global Voices:

This job was my only option post-university; it didn’t require experience, which is the sad reality.

After passing a written test and an interview for a position at a foreign embassy in Madagascar, she was turned away due to what she presumed was her lack of experience. She emphasizes that opportunities for graduates are alarmingly scarce. She points out that many young people hesitate to seek out opportunities.

There’s a pervasive culture that fails to invest in young talent. Companies are fixated on experience and impose rigorous requirements. This reluctance stems from fear and a lack of confidence. Even if there are only a few of them, opportunities do exist, and we as graduates must learn how to stand out in the crowd.

Another young man, aged 26, speaking anonymously, explained in an interview with Global Voices:

I studied corporate communication and got a Master I degree. My goal was to work as a communications manager in a company, overseeing strategy, image, and both internal and external relations. However, I currently work in a call center. This is not what I envisioned for myself after graduation, but it was one of the few opportunities available in a job market where communication positions are scarce and often reserved for those with strong connections. I had a few opportunities, but they slipped away.

There’s a significant amount of nepotism in Madagascar, and we often hear the same excuses: a lack of experience or not being qualified enough, even when we meet all the requirements. The main challenges that students face after graduation typically include: nepotism and favoritism in hiring, limited job offers that align with graduates’ fields of study, experience requirements for entry-level positions, and the low value attributed to locally acquired degrees.

Hasina warns that the value of higher education is rapidly eroding as graduates struggle to find jobs, leading society to dismiss their hard-earned degrees. She asserts that we must create more opportunities and foster a culture of excellence from an early age.

Education should return to its core mission: to prepare young people to become the pillars of the future.

This mismatch drives many to study or work abroad. Thousands leave each year for France, Canada, Mauritius, and other countries, seeking stability and better prospects, leading to severe brain drain.

Governance and institutional challenges

Part of the difficulty lies in institutional structures. There is a lack of transparency in both the recruitment and promotion processes, which extends to the highest levels of government, impacting both teachers and administrators. Corruption and nepotism have deep roots in every public institution in the country.

Madagascar scored 26 out of 100 and ranked 140th out of 180 countries in Transparency International’s 2024 Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI). In the education sector, issues such as illegal school fees, the sale of exam papers, and favoritism in teacher recruitment are widespread. Surveys indicate that about 40 percent of people have witnessed or experienced corruption in schools, with one-third of students encountering cases of sexual misconduct. These practices hinder access to education for the poor and degrade the quality of teaching, ultimately harming the country’s growth prospects.

The system’s limitations are a consequence of long-term policy and budgetary decisions. The political crisis in 2009 disrupted administrative capacity, and although subsequent governments introduced reforms, significant systemic issues remain.

Pathways forward

Experts have outlined several key priorities: increasing funding for global standards, hiring and training teachers, and formalizing the roles of qualified FRAM staff. Universities should focus on improving faculty support and infrastructure, increasing allowances, and enhancing research capacity. By raising the percentage of qualified teachers, Madagascar can significantly improve quality-adjusted educational attainment, which, in turn, would contribute to real GDP per capita growth.

Education is essential for development. The children studying today can be the foundation of a future, more prosperous Madagascar, as long as they are given adequate support and opportunities to thrive.

Originally published on Global Voices

The two presidential candidates: Simone Ehivet Gbagbo (left) and Henriette Lagou Adjoua (right). Screenshots from the video “Presidential Elections in Côte d’Ivoire: Henriette Lagou’s Campaign” on the France24 YouTube channel. Edited on Canva.

The Ivory Coast held its presidential elections on October 25, 2025. Two women, including a former First Lady, were among the five candidates running for the highest political office for the next five years.

The Ivorian electoral process, in which the president is elected through universal suffrage, is fraught with tension. This is due to the disqualification of some key opposition candidates and the approval of others, such as Alassane Ouattara, who has been president since 2011 and is seeking reelection in a fourth consecutive term.

Incumbent president and candidate for the Rally of Houphouëtists for Democracy and Peace (RHDP), Alassane Ouattara, faced four opposition candidates: Simone Éhivet Gbagbo, former First Lady and candidate for the Movement of Capable Generations (MGC); Ahoua Don Mello, professor and independent candidate; Henriette Lagou Adjoua, candidate for the Group of Political Partners for Peace (GP-PAIX), and Jean-Louis Billon, 60, candidate for the Democratic Congress.

These five candidates, who the Constitutional Council has approved, campaigned throughout the country, which has over 32 million citizens and is listed as a hybrid democratic regime in The Economist Intelligence Unit’s 2024 report.

The two women candidates were close to Laurent Gbagbo, president from 2000–2011. Simone was the former president’s wife, and Henriette Lagou Adjoua worked with Gbagbo as a minister.

Who is Simone Éhivet Gbagbo?

Born in Moossou, a small village in the Grand-Bassam commune, 43 kilometers east of Abidjan, in the Ivory Coast in 1949, Simone Ehivet Gbagbo is a professional historian. She was also a teacher, enabling her to participate in the 1982 teachers’ strikes before embarking on a political career with the creation of the Ivorian Popular Front (FPI), a political party she founded with her ex-husband and other politicians. Simone held a political position as a member of parliament for her party from 1996 until 2004.

Her influence on the Ivorian political scene was particularly notable for her position as First Lady between 2000 and 2010. In 2011, during the crisis after Alassane Ouattara’s election, which the Gbagbo family contested, Simone and her ex-husband were arrested. While her ex-husband appeared before the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2012, an Ivorian court sentenced her to 20 years’ imprisonment in 2015, before acquitting her in 2018.

For the October 2025 elections, she sought to build on her experience, offering the Ivory Coast a program geared towards justice, healthcare reform, security, and the economy.

She also has considerable support on the Ivorian political scene, especially from Charles Blé Goudé, president of the Pan-African Congress for Justice and Equality of Peoples (COJEP), whose candidacy was rejected.

Who is Henriette Lagou Adjoua

Born in Daoukro, a town in east-central Ivory Coast, on June 22, 1959, Henriette Adjoua Lagou graduated in social security after extensive studies in her home country and France. In October 2000, she started out in politics as the Minister of Family, Women, and Children in Pascal Affi N’Guessan’s government.

As a writer, she raised the debate on the barriers preventing Ivorian female politicians from rising to the nation’s highest office in her 2025 book “Why Not a Woman?”

She is also known for fighting for women’s rights in the Ivory Coast. As a former unsuccessful candidate in the 2015 presidential elections, she will run for a second time. Henriette put peace, national reconciliation, stability, dialogue, and social cohesion at the center of her election campaign for sustainable development.

High tensions ahead of the vote

The election campaigns began throughout the country on October 10, 2025, against this backdrop of tension. All candidates that the Constitutional Council approved did their utmost to appeal to and convince the Ivorian people with their social projects.

Meanwhile, excluded candidates call on their supporters to protest against these elections going ahead. Instead, they demand inclusive dialogue, as explained in this Africa News video report:

Despite the ban on protests, citizens poured onto the streets of Abidjan and other towns across the country to denounce the current regime’s power grab. These protests often resulted in arrests. According to an article by media group Jeune Afrique, the authorities announced the arrest of around 700 protesters. Fifty were sentenced to three years’ imprisonment for acts of “public disorder, unlawful assembly, and participation in a banned march.”

On October 17, 2025, Sansan Kambilé, Ivorian Minister of Justice, suggested a possible restriction on the freedom to protest. He said:

(…) l’exercice du droit de manifester peut « faire l’objet de restrictions […] dans l’intérêt de la sécurité nationale, de la sûreté publique, de l’ordre public ». (…) les manifestations qui ont eu lieu depuis samedi « revêtent un caractère subversif » et sont « marquées par une violence incompatible avec les exigences de la loi ».

Exercising the right to protest ‘may be subject to restrictions in the interest of national security, public safety, and public order.’ The protests that have taken place since Saturday are of a subversive nature and are marked by violence incompatible with the requirements of the law.

In total, more than 8.7 million voters went to the polls.

Today, women’s involvement in politics allows all women to dream of holding presidential office in the Ivory Coast and across the continent. Two African women have already done it: Samia Suluhu, President of the Republic of Tanzania since March 19, 2021, and Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah, President of the Republic of Namibia since March 21, 2025.

The ballots are still being tallied, though early counts indicate incumbent Alassane Ouattara may be the winner.

Read our special coverage: Côte d’Ivoire: Regional powerhouse

Originally published on Global Voices

Kehinde Adegboyega. Used with permission

The speed at which the internet is evolving is making its users increasingly vulnerable. Meanwhile, digital technology, which should help to concentrate and centralize information to prevent losses, offers no guarantee against hacking and theft of personal data by cyber-criminals.

Similarly, mass surveillance orchestrated by authoritarian and dictatorial governments endangers the lives of all those deemed suspicious or threatening to the powers that be, mainly human rights defenders and journalists.

Rights defenders and journalists need to strengthen the protection of their privacy by securing their communications, their sources of information (which are very important for their investigative work), and sensitive data such as research documents, information on human rights violations, etc. Encryption, therefore, appears to be a potential solution for these individuals in the face of sophisticated surveillance tools such as spyware.

Global Voices spoke with Kehinde Adegboyega, Co-Founder and Executive Director at Human Rights Journalists Network Nigeria. The organization's mission is to empower journalists and human rights defenders with ethical practices, digital resilience, and collaborative innovation, ensuring safe, impactful reporting. In this interview, Kehinde, who has worked alongside journalists to ensure their freedom and digital security, explains how encryption protects journalists and human rights defenders.

Jean Sovon (JS): What is encryption, and how does it protect journalists and human rights defenders in their daily work?

Kehinde Adegboyega (KA): ‎Encryption is basically a way of locking information so that only the intended person can open or read it. For journalists and human rights defenders, it’s a vital line of defense. When you use encrypted messaging apps or encrypted drives, even if someone intercepts your data, they can’t make sense of it. It protects sources, sensitive evidence, and private communications — which are often targeted in environments where surveillance and intimidation are common.‎

JS: Can you give some concrete examples in West Africa where encryption has prevented surveillance, data theft, or the disclosure of sensitive information for journalists or activists?

KA: ‎Yes, definitely. In Nigeria during the #EndSARS protests, journalists and activists relied on encrypted apps like Signal and VPNs to coordinate safely when government surveillance and internet restrictions were escalating. Encrypted group chats made it possible to share updates and footage without exposing sources. In Ghana and The Gambia, human rights groups have also used encrypted cloud storage to protect interviews and evidence from being seized or leaked, especially during elections and protests. So, in real terms, encryption has prevented serious harm in several West African contexts.

JS: What are the main threats or misconceptions surrounding encryption today, particularly in regions where freedom of expression is under threat?

KA: ‎One of the biggest misconceptions is that encryption only helps criminals. In reality, it protects ordinary citizens — including journalists, doctors, lawyers, and activists — from being spied on or having their information stolen. Unfortunately, some governments use “national security” as a reason to weaken encryption or demand backdoor access. The danger is that once encryption is weakened, everyone becomes vulnerable. Another issue is low awareness — many journalists still don’t fully understand how encryption works or why it’s essential to their safety.‎

‎JS: How can governments strike a balance between national security concerns, the right to privacy, and the need for encryption to protect freedom of expression and human rights?

KA: ‎It’s about building trust and transparency. Governments can pursue legitimate security concerns without undermining encryption. That means putting clear oversight around surveillance and focusing on targeted investigations — not blanket monitoring. The UN and the African Declaration on Internet Rights both recognize encryption as part of the right to privacy and free expression. So rather than banning it, governments should invest in cyber capacity and data protection laws that respect citizens’ rights.‎

‎JS: What tools, habits, or best practices would you recommend to journalists and human rights defenders to strengthen their digital security through encryption?

‎KA: Start small but be consistent. Use end-to-end encrypted apps like Signal for sensitive chats. Turn on device encryption on your phone and laptop. For email, use secure services like ProtonMail. Always back up your files in encrypted folders or drives. And never forget the basics — update your software, use strong passwords, and enable two-factor authentication. Most importantly, join digital safety trainings. Organizations like Human Rights Journalists Network Nigeria, Paradigm Initiative, Access Now, and the Tor Project offer practical tools and guidance that can make a big difference.

Originally published on Global Voices

Donald Trump (President of the United States) is on the left of the image, and Ibrahim Traoré (President of Burkina Faso) is on the right. Screenshot from the video “IBRAHIM TRAORÉ’s shocking response to Donald Trump” on the Smr Foot YouTube Channel.

Ibrahim Traoré, the President of Burkina Faso, has refused US President Donald Trump’s request to accept migrants deported from the United States. In retaliation, on October 9th, the US embassy in Burkina Faso’s capital, Ouagadougou, announced that it would be temporarily pausing visa services for Burkinabé applicants, forcing them to go to nearby Togo instead for visa applications.

Since his return to the White House in January 2025, Donald Trump has pursued a migration policy of systematically deporting what he calls “illegal immigrants” to their home countries or other states altogether.

Several African countries, such as Rwanda, Eswatini, Ghana, and South Sudan, have signed deportation agreements with Washington, agreeing to accept deportees, regardless of their country of origin. The Trump administration has since aimed to expand this list, showing a particular interest in Burkina Faso.

Since September 11, 2025, Burkina Faso has implemented a free-of-charge visa policy for all African nationals wishing to visit. This policy intends to promote tourism and Burkinabé culture and raise Burkina Faso’s profile abroad.

As Mahamadou Sana, the Burkinabé Security Minister and Police Superintendent, explains, this policy is in no way a deportation gateway:

(…) la gratuité n’est pas l’exemption. Quand on parle de gratuité, cela veut dire que les demandes sont toujours formulées en ligne, font l’objet d’un examen et, si la demande est acceptée, alors tout ressortissant africain qui passe par ce canal obtiendra gratuitement ce visa pour venir au Burkina Faso.

Free does not mean exemption. It means all applications are submitted online and reviewed, and if accepted, all African nationals going through this process will receive their Burkina Faso visas free of charge.

No to US deportations

According to Karamoko Jean-Marie Traoré, Burkina Faso’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Trump administration, looking to take advantage of this opportunity, requested to use  Burkina Faso as a deportation destination. However, this proposal didn’t go down well with the Ouagadougou authorities. On October 9, 2025, Karamoko Jean-Marie Traoré, quoted in French newspaper Le Monde, stated on national television:

La question était de voir si le Burkina Faso, en dehors de nos propres ressortissants, était prêt à recevoir d’autres personnes qui seraient expulsées par les Etats-unis.

The question was whether Burkina Faso would accept deportees other than their own nationals from the United States.

Traoré announced that his country had refused this US proposal. He added:

Naturellement, cette proposition que nous avions jugée en son temps indécente est totalement contraire à la valeur de dignité qui fait partie de l’essence même de la vision du capitaine Ibrahim Traoré.

Naturally, this proposal, which we considered inappropriate, goes entirely against the value of dignity intrinsic to Captain Ibrahim Traoré’s vision.

Needless to say, his refusal didn’t go down well with Washington.

Mandatory trip to Togo

Given the Burkinabé authorities’ unyielding stance, the US embassy has temporarily suspended routine visa issuance services for most Burkinabé nationals, redirecting all applications to neighboring Togo. Now, all applicants must travel to Lomé, the Togolese capital. Karamoko Jean Marie Traoré explained:

Cette décision ferait suite à une note verbale américaine évoquant un non-respect des consignes d’usage des visas par certains ressortissants du Burkina Faso « S’agit-il d’une mesure de pression ? D’un chantage ? Dans tous les cas, le Burkina Faso est une terre de dignité, une destination et non pas une terre de déportation.

This decision follows a US diplomatic note outlining some Burkinabé nationals’ non-compliance with visa requirements. Is this a pressure tactic? Is it blackmail? Either way, Burkina Faso is a land of dignity, not deportation.

This decision surprised Burkinabé citizens, who hadn’t expected such an extreme retaliatory measure, especially since their country had maintained good relations with Washington before its announcement.

Diplomatic reconfiguration?

Donald Trump’s Africa policy has undergone significant changes in recent months, including the suspension of legislation like the African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA), which “provides eligible sub-Saharan African countries with duty-free access to the US market” and the closure of some embassies on the continent. This new diplomatic approach risks causing strained relations between the US and African nations in the coming months.

After underscoring that Burkina Faso maintains good relations with all countries that respect it, Traoré emphasized that Burkina Faso will act accordingly:

Naturellement, la mesure qui a été prise ne saurait nous laisser indifférents. En diplomatie, on parle de réciprocité. Nous prendrons les mesures qu’il faut, à la limite des mesures qui ont été prises par les autorités américaines, sans pour autant compromettre l’amitié, la solidarité, la fraternité entre les peuples du Burkina Faso et les peuples américains.

Obviously, we cannot remain indifferent to the measures taken. In diplomacy, there is the matter of reciprocity. We will take whatever measures are necessary to the extent of the US authorities’ actions, without compromising the friendship, solidarity, and fraternity between the people of Burkina Faso and the United States.

The Burkinabé authorities’ staunchness sends a strong message to all Western countries, indicating a renewed determination to maintain the national sovereignty held since Ibrahim Traoré‘s military regime takeover on September 30, 2022.

Read: Geostrategic shift: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger withdraw from ECOWAS

The latest coups d’état in Central Sahel countries, such as Burkina Faso (September 2022), Mali (May 2021), and Niger (July 2023), have reshaped their political landscapes. Today, these countries, under military rule and united within the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), have expressed their desire to break away from Western influence.

Burkina Faso isn’t the first country to reject the proposal to accept deportees from the United States. During a visit to Washington in July 2025, Yusuf Tuggar, Nigeria’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, told BBC Africa:

Le Nigeria ne cédera pas aux pressions de l'administration Trump pour accepter des déportés vénézuéliens ou des prisonniers de pays tiers en provenance des États-Unis. (…) Il sera difficile pour un pays comme le Nigeria d'accepter des prisonniers vénézuéliens sur son territoire. Nous avons suffisamment de problèmes propres, nous ne pouvons pas accepter de déportés vénézuéliens au Nigeria, pour l'amour du ciel.

Nigeria will not succumb to the Trump administration’s pressure to accept Venezuelan deportees or third-country prisoners from the United States. It will be difficult for a country like Nigeria to accept Venezuelan prisoners. We have enough problems of our own. We can’t accept Venezuelan deportees in Nigeria, for heaven’s sake.

According to this BBC Africa article, the Wall Street Journal reported that other African countries are reportedly on Donald Trump’s list of potential lands of deportation. The US president is attempting to persuade the presidents of Liberia, Senegal, Mauritania, Gabon, and Guinea-Bissau to reach said agreement.

Read more: A strategic shift in Burkina-Faso

Originally published on Global Voices

Protesters in Madagascar raising the ‘One Piece’ skull and cross bones, with an adapted Malagasy hat. Screenshot from the video ‘Madagascar president flees country amid Gen Z protests’ uploaded to YouTube by Channel 4 News. Fair use.

By Jessica Northey and Narda Natioranomena 

Across the African continent, from Madagascar to Morocco, young people known as Generation Z, those born between the late 1990s and early 2000s, are taking to the streets to demand social justice and have their voices heard.

Beginning on September 25, Gen Z protests erupted in Madagascar, initially focused on the persistent power outages and water shortages that have plagued the country for months. This quickly expanded to target corruption, rampant inequalities, the lack of food security and later calls for the president to leave. On October 12, when it became clear that the anger against him meant his life was in danger, President Andry Rajoelina disappeared. He was later reported to have travelled via the French island of Reunion to Dubai.

The peaceful demonstrations, organized on social media, faced heavy repression from the authorities, leading to the deaths of 22 people, according to the UN. A special advisor to the president, speaking with TV5 Monde, denied that any deaths had occurred, much to the dismay of the protesters, who accused the government of lying.

Inspired by similar youth demonstrations in Nepal, the Malagasy Gen Z youth movement uses the same Japanese manga “One Piece” symbol of the skull and crossbones, with an adapted Malagasy hat. Protesters marched en masse across the capital, major cities and in the diaspora across the world.

Real demands

Meanwhile, in Morocco, mass youth demonstrations erupted in mid-September, focusing on inadequate and negligent healthcare, a lack of education, and corruption.

Why have these Gen Z revolutionary movements ignited now? And are they connected?

In Madagascar, there had long been dissatisfaction with the president and his network of extremely wealthy elites. Visible wealth and economic growth are evident throughout Madagascar, with new construction, high-rise buildings, and large SUVs crowding the streets of the capital, where the majority of people walk on non-existent sidewalks. Young people criticized a new football stadium and what is largely considered an ill-conceived yet very expensive electric cable car in the capital, despite severe electricity and water shortages.

The discovery of critical minerals, new mines and resources across the country underlines the riches and wealth in the Malagasy soils and waters. From sapphires, gold, graphite and cobalt, to vanilla, lychees, cocoa and coffee, Madagascar is increasingly and visibly abundant in natural resources.

Yet, the average Malagasy is poorer today than they were 20 years ago. Seventy-five percent live beneath the poverty line, and the international companies extracting those resources often appear to care little for Madagascar’s natural environment. The president provoked even  further outrage over his disconnection with the lives of the majority when he justified glaring inequalities in an interview with TV5 Monde Journal Afrique, declaring that the rural poor in Madagascar were “nevertheless happy.”

In the case of Morocco, the recent deaths of eight women in childbirth sparked the initial protests. Also organizing via social media, young people have demonstrated for days, calling out the huge expenditure on football stadiums, while women and youth are marginalised, and their parents are denied decent health care.

They are demanding basic services including health and education, and an end to corruption, which, they argue, reigns at every level of state service. As in Madagascar, they express a love of their homeland and a deep commitment to freedom of speech.

Not willing to be sacrificed for football infrastructure, they demonstrate on the streets, supporting one another as they do. Volunteer doctors care for injured protesters, lawyers represent the victims for free, and communities provide food, in a context of serious risks of repression and state violence. The protests at two ends of the African continent are strikingly similar.

Colonial pasts

One root cause in Madagascar is perhaps clear. While French and international media may neglect this issue, addressing it transparently could have significant implications across Africa and beyond. In 2009, when Andry Rajoelina, then mayor of the capital, launched his first coup d’etat, he did so while taking refuge in the French embassy. In 2014, five years later, he became a naturalized French citizen. Since his coup in 2009 and presidency of Madagascar in 2018, there has been an influx of French businesses and influence in France’s former colony.

Apart from numerous anomalies in the 2023 presidential election, with protesters jailed and opposition harassed, Rajoelina is, according to Article 46 of the constitution, not allowed to have French citizenship as president of Madagascar. That a former colonial power should return to an independent country is unbearable for African youth.

Madagascar shed blood in 1947 when an anticolonial rebellion led to brutal repression across the country. Similar to the atrocities committed in Algeria in the late 1950s, the French military carried out mass violence in Madagascar between 1947 and 1949. This included executions, torture, rape, the destruction of entire villages, and the horrific practice of throwing live Malagasy prisoners from airplanes, which became known as “death flights.”

The number of casualties is difficult to confirm, but there are estimates that 100,000 Malagasy were killed, compared to hundreds of French nationals. This brutality and its lasting scars are documented in films such as Raymond Rajaonarivelo’s “Tabataba”  and novels such as Andry Andraina’s “Mitaraina ny tany,” (“The Earth is Lamenting”), and in the case of North Africa, in Gillo Pontecorvo’s film “The Battle of Algiers.”

And today, 65 years after independence, the Malagasy population demanded, albeit respectfully and peacefully, that France take their French president back, before he subsequently left on a French military plane. France bears its share of responsibility for the 2009 Malagasy crisis, and for the current one.  Reflecting on this could trigger wider self-reflection in European countries.

The failure of the French and European education systems to engage honestly with colonial pasts is part of a systemic problem of global injustice and oligarchical control over our media and the world’s resources. This amnesia feeds into the rise of the European far right today, perpetuates the extraction and destruction of former colonies, and exacerbates our collective global inequalities and ecological crises.

While common threads have been identified, the colonial factor has been largely ignored. Across Africa, young people feel an increasing sense of injustice that former colonial powers continue to exploit resources, economies and societies, with no recognition of past crimes and no accountability for those continuing legacies. This not only damages Africa and former colonies around the world, but also underpins the constant malaise, or what Alistair Horne described as a legacy of “poison” with violence and inequalities in Europe and its settler colonial partners.

African and global majority youth, from Madagascar to Morocco, from the Philippines to Nepal, have stood up to protest these searing inequalities and demand social justice. As they open our eyes to an opportunity for much wider reflection on the continuing effects of colonialism in the 21st century, they, and whatever transition processes follow, deserve our full support.