A corpus on transition to democracy in Africa has been developed. This body of work has different constitutive elements: conceptualization, institutional arrangements, conditions for consolidation and the reasons for its reemergence in the 1980s as an agenda for political change (Ake 1994; Hyden and Bratton 1992; Gibbon, Bangura, and Ofstad 1992). Nigeria's experience of the transition to democracy has received more attention than that of any other country in the continent (Ihonvbere 1994; Campbell 1994; Reno 1993; Agbese 1991; Diamond 1991). However, the current preoccupations and dominant discourses have largely concealed the agencies in the struggle for democracy, even though civil society has received some attention. Likewise, there are very few empirical works. Similarly, the discursive community on transition has also privileged a particular form of democracy, liberalism, without questioning its gender bias. While there is an emerging literature on African women in political transition (Tripp 1994; Abdullah 1993; Campbell 1993; Nzomo 1993; Pepera 1993; Seidman 1993; Beall, Hassim, and Todes, 1989), compared with the dominant literature on the subject, it is inconsequential. Further, much of the literature on African women in political transition has treated women in isolation from the gendered structures of power and society. Moreover, in most of this literature as well as the dominant literature on transition, there is silence on the relationship between political and economic processes despite the similarity in their basic doctrine, liberalism and the linkage of these two issues in the donor community and by African governments (Beckman 1992; Bangura 1992).

This article hopes to fill in some of the gaps noted by including Nigerian women's conceptual challenge to democracy; the traditions from which women draw their discourses; the male-bias of the state; women's participation in democratic struggles both at the level of politics and economics; and the limitations of the women's movement.

The second crisis of the world market economy in this century affected all countries according to their respective position within the international hierarchy (Rosier, Dockes, 1983: 222ff). The weakest economies, classified as Least Developed Countries (LDCs), were hardest hit because their socio-economic profiles showed severe flaws during the preceding boom (Arnaud, 1984:91-100). They exported agrarian raw materials and, lacking an industrial basis, imported manufactured goods. Consequently, the low level of development limited the internal generation of surplus which made foreign assistance imperative and a major feature of the political economy (Hoogvelt, 1982). The share of African economies among the LDC countries is remarkably high (Sánchez Arnau, 1982:15ff). Those countries, however, which maintained close links with the former colonial metropolis suffered less than Tanzania which tried to establish an autonomous way toward social development.

Indebtedness was a characteristic feature of post-colonial reconstruction during the 1960s and 1970s. Foreign capital inflow was the most adequate means to build and to diversify the economy. Internal surplus generation remained severely restricted because of the colonial legacy. Hence, indebtedness was widely accepted among scholars and policy-makers as an unavoidable prerequisite for development. It was the dramatic shift from indebtedness to insolvency in the early 1980s that created alarm and jeopardized the international monetary system. The former commodity exchange lacked the necessary financial resources and a significant segment of the world economic system was about to be suddenly disaggregated.

This article aims to contribute to a better understanding of the popularity of Pentecostalism and the formation of religious identity in an Eritrean city. Examining the penetration of Pentecostal Protestantism into longstanding Christian churches in Asmara during a time of rapid socioeconomic change in Eritrea, it looks at how Pentecostalism discontinues its relation with the past, conceptualizes the present, and generates an autonomous image of itself in the highly competitive religious marketplace of an Eritrean urban space. The article discusses how and why this movement increasingly favors Bible reading and networks of religious meetings as the principal mediums of transmission of its teachings and the expansion of its denomination, breaking deliberately from traditional Christian churches and using local forces and resources.

In many parts of Africa, university systems are in crisis; squalid conditions, student strife, and increasing state violence have turned many campuses into battlegrounds. Through an in-depth look at the Kenyan case, this paper examines some of the deep political dynamics of the current desperate situation. We demonstrate how in Kenya, state–university links involve attempts by higher-level government officials to control campuses through patronage, surveillance, and violence and how institutional configurations facilitate this. As the burden of repression falls on student activists who challenge current power configurations, we examine the current crisis through a student lens. By presenting and analyzing the historical narrative of student activism on campus, we show the inadequacy of overly structural, economic approaches to the crisis favored by the World Bank and some of its critics. Instead, we show the critical importance of understanding how the university crisis is organically linked to wider political processes, including local struggle over democratization of the state and economy.

Between 1967 and 1970 the number of squatter settlements in Zambia's capital, Lusaka, increased from 9 to 32, accounting for more than one-third of the city's population (Simmance, 1974: 503). In 1973, one in every two persons in Lusaka was a squatter (Andrews, Christie and Martin, 1973: 17). Today, people continue to squat in Lusaka despite a four year upgrading project (1976-80) sponsored by the World Bank. Although they certainly grew in density and number after independence in 1964, such settlements were not new phenomena. Rather, they have been part of Lusaka's socio-economic map ever since the town began to grow. The persistence of squatting exemplifies grassroots involvement by an urban work force that takes possession of vacant land and uses its own resources to create living space. The purpose of this paper is to examine some of the processes at work in creating and maintaining Lusaka's squatter settlements.

Squatting was a response on the part of ordinary people to the changing structure of Zambia's economy, beginning with the colonial era when Zambia became a subordinate part of a system of capitalist production. The administrative framework of ordinances and policies that structured rural-urban migration first impelled men to seek wage labor and gradually brought whole families to the cities. This affected the housing situation in Lusaka, colonial social policy and labor employment. Government and private industry interests were instrumental in shaping the urban policy which formed the background to the development of squatting.

The concept of aesthetics is a “red herring” in the study of contemporary art. Often aesthetics is equated with technique (cf. Henri, 1960: 88) or with adherence to the dominant themes of a particular school of art. In the case of “tourist” and “folk” art, the concept of aesthetics is generally salvaged by introducing the notion that artistic preferences are culturally relative and are influenced by the conditions under which the particular art form is produced. Warren d'Azevedo (1973: 7) thus qualifies: “The apparent absence of these factors [i.e., formal aesthetic standards], as well as the lack of clearly explicated concepts equivalent to art or aesthetics in most non-Western cultures, has caused us to suspect that the expression of artistry may be somehow fundamentally different from our own.”

This and similar assertions have led to the development of the approach of “ethnoaesthetics” based upon the internal standards of judgement and criticism generated by the values of the artists and the audience in non-Western cultures. Here I shall argue that neither the conventional notion of aesthetics nor the new concept of “ethnoaesthetics” (cf. Crowley, 1966; Thompson, 1968; Silver, 1979: 289-292) adequately explains the complex relationship between the production and reception of tourist art. Moreover, I shall introduce an analysis of aesthetics which defines tourist art objects as media of communication between the new art producers and their audience. Therefore, it is necessary to begin with a basic definition of tourist art in Africa.

Through their wedding celebrations, women from all strata of Mombasa society have participated in the evolution of a variegated Swahili culture. An historical analysis of wedding ceremonies illuminates two important questions: first, the pattern of interaction between people of slave and free ancestry after the abolition of slavery in 1907, and second, the role women have played in integrating into Swahili culture elements drawn from both slave and free peoples.

An awareness of the interplay of ethnicity and social stratification is crucial to understanding Swahili society. Historians have traced successive migrations of people from different parts of Africa and the Indian Ocean, bringing disparate ways of life. But despite the well-known formulation that Swahili culture grew from the mingling of African and Persian or Arab peoples, little attempt has been made to analyze specifically the contributions of African slaves to the mixture. The failure to distinguish different strata in the African component of Swahili culture obscures the class dynamic in coastal society. Scholars do not ignore social stratification, but few describe adequately the interaction between various strata. Still fewer writers analyze cultural artifacts as the expression of different, and often competing, strata. For example, James De Vere Allen, in his excellent guide to the Lamu museum, argues persuasively that “Swahili culture … is an African culture,” not an Arab import, as early British writers assumed. But having exposed the colonialist assumptions behind the earlier idea and having established the indigenous roots of Swahili culture, Allen (n.d.: 1-2) does not attempt to describe the impact of the lower strata on the material culture of the elite, whose articles dominate the museum. Allen is handicapped by the fact that poor people tend to create fewer and less substantial artifacts. In order to analyze the contributions of slaves and other people from the lower strata of society, one must turn to customs, particularly dances, which did not depend upon wealth or power for their creation.

Kenya has been going through a period of political reform since 1991, when section 2A of the constitution, which had made Kenya a de jure one-party state, was repealed. This reform followed a prolonged struggle on the part of citizens both inside and outside the country, and their call for democracy was one that, after the fall of the Berlin Wall, was embraced by Western countries. Via diplomatic pressure and conditionality on aid, Western donors played an important role in the repeal of section 2A, the return of multiparty elections, and the creation and reform of a number of political institutions and offices via a separation of powers. But although these changes were supported by the political opposition and much of civil society in Kenya, they did not rise organically from the national struggle over political power. Nor did these reforms lead to a determination in the country to hold the political elite accountable for their transgressions. This article argues that modern Kenya's history of economic and political inequality has resulted in a population whose very divisions make it difficult for politicians to be disciplined. Accountability has two dimensions: the horizontal accountability among branches of government that is assured by checks and balances, and the vertical accountability of the state to its citizens. Vertical accountability depends on a constituency of like-minded citizens defending broad national interests, or an electorate with a collective identity or set of identities attached to the Kenyan nation. But in the absence of such shared goals and demands, narrow personal and local interests prevail, and politicians remain unaccountable to the nation as a whole.

When W.E.B. Du Bois wrote of the “double consciousness” of Africans in America, he was reflecting on the complex identities of the “talented tenth,” the educated minority of a minority like himself who felt alienated because of their awareness that their qualifications meant little in a racist society. Though written in reference to the African American intellectual, this duality, this sense of “two-ness,” is even more acute for African exiles today because they have fewer social and cultural ties to the West than African Europeans and African Americans. The exiles are much closer to the African “soul” Du Bois referred to and are less prepared for the pervasive racism and second-class status that they have to overcome in the West.

Therefore, the Union of Tanzanian Women will be: (a) An organization which will unite all Tanzanian women and enable the revolutionary ideas of the Chama Cha Mapinduzi on Socialism and Self Reliance and the liberation of women to reach them and be understood wherever they are (Kazuni Za Jumuiya Ya Wanawake Wa Tanzania, 1978).

First, you must intensify the struggle against us for the purpose of doing away with loopholes and laws that prevent equality between men and women. Second you must overcome mental attitudes imposed on women by social orders. As a result of social systems, women have become either slaves or flowers (Nyerere, 1976).

Men will have to learn to accept women as equals in social production and women must cultivate a new personality, a new consciousness of freedom and rebellion against male exploitation and domination (Tanzania Daily News, 29 Oct., 1976).

One of the greatest weaknesses of the UWT … is the incompetence of its leadership to penetrate to the grassroots level. … (Madabida, 1974: 18).

As the first three quotations with which this paper begins suggest, the rhetoric of “women's liberation” became quite acceptable in Tanzania during the 1970s with President Nyerere himself taking the lead in identifying existing inequalities between men and women as an impediment to socialist transformation. At the international level as well it had become clear–with the declaration in 1975 of a “UN Decade of Women” as the most obvious rhetorical gesture–that the neglect of women as objects of, much less as actors in development projects and programs was seriously undermining the success of such efforts, with negative consequences for development in general and devastating consequences for women in particular.

This article examines differing explanations for violence against foreign nationals in post-apartheid South Africa. It argues that the most compelling analyses in the scholarship draw from a family of arguments in the global literature that locates popular violence against outsiders within the context of declining sovereign power, explaining theatrical displays of force against enemies within as attempts at the retrieval of that power. To the extent that these arguments rely on the concept of a scapegoat, they are inadequate. More analytical attention needs to be paid to the scene of the encounters between the “us” and the “them” of collective violence.

This article examines processes of community-building in the immigrant quarter of New Bell, Douala, during the interwar years. Historians of Douala have overlooked the history of New Bell, focusing instead on the political and economic activity of Duala's Westernized elite during this period. This historiographic oversight reflects a preoccupation with elite politics identified as the seeds of nationalism in Cameroon. An examination of the community of immigrants provides us with an alternative conceptualization of a multiethnic collective. By tracing the construction and evolution of public space in interwar New Bell, we can uncover elements of group solidarity binding together this highly diverse population.

Although the presence of foreign capital has been quite evident in most sectors of the Nigerian economy, only a handful of studies have attempted to analyze some aspects of direct foreign investment in the country. Even then, these studies (Hakam, 1966; May, 1965; Edozien, 1968; Langley, 1968; Central Bank of Nigeria, 1964-79) have tended to be descriptive, especially with respect to analyzing trends, incentives, motivations, linkage aspects, and distribution of foreign investment.

Thus, there has been virtually no empirical work aimed at statistically evaluating the determinants of direct foreign investment in Nigeria. Consequently, this study has the object of going beyond intuitive and descriptive analysis by providing a comprehensive empirical estimate of determinants of direct foreign investment, using the least squares regression approach. In order to provide the theoretical framework, a number of direct investment hypotheses proposed or considered in the literature are first reviewed.

The analysis focuses on direct foreign investment in all industries combined. Apart from possible specification problems connected with separate models for different industries which a disaggregated approach entails, such an attempt is further complicated by the absence or the poor quality of data relating to the larger number of variables which would have to be considered. Taking cognizance of this kind of problem in a developing country such as Nigeria, the only disaggregation to be done is in respect to sources of foreign investment. In this direction, the study analyzes total direct investment as well as direct foreign investment from the United Kingdom and the United States of America. These two countries accounted for over 62 percent of direct foreign investment in Nigeria in 1974.

African scholarship on epistemic decolonization and African self-determination has generated reflection and debate among African Studies scholars for several decades. The debate has gained new force in recent years and has resonated in African studies in new ways, prompted in part by political events and social activism around enduring racism. Grosz-Ngaté’s 2019 Presidential Lecture provides an opportunity to reflect further on these issues. It explores questions related to the production and decolonization of knowledge in conversations with colleagues in Mali and Senegal and draws out the implications of these discussions for African Studies Association members and for the Association at large.

Marginal Gains (2204) has been described as a surprising and bold book. Since the articles in this collection, which take one or other of its arguments as points of departure, share certain similar qualities, they can be treated as a collective effort initiating new debate with non-African economic research and thinking. This article reviews the argument of the book, highlights the concept and phenomenon of ordinal ranking in both the book and the articles, and then uses the findings to begin an appreciative critique of the ideas of Michel Callon. Although Callon's approach intersects with that of Marginal Gains in many ways, the scalar ranking of people, and the use of rank to exclude and divert, finds more prominence in the book's approach, which also has more relevance for Europe than economists seem to have acknowledged so far. The article ends with a new instance of ordinal ranking, from Cameroon.

I am greatly honored to be giving the first Bashorun M.K.O. Abiola Distinguished Lecture. I am grateful to the African Studies Association (ASA) of the United States for giving me this role.

Although the first Abiola Lecture is being given today, the decision to launch such an annual event was taken by the ASA more than a year ago. That was of course before Chief M.K.O. Abiola entered the presidential race in Nigeria from which he seemed to have emerged the victor—but the results were never officially confirmed.

But there is another side to Chief Abiola's concerns. This is the crusade for reparations to be paid to black people for hundreds of years of enslavement, exploitation and degradation.

Africa has experienced a triple heritage of slavery—indigenous, Islamic and Western (Robertson and Klein 1983). The reparations movement seems to have concluded that although the indigenous and Islamic forms of slavery were much older than the trans-Atlantic version, they were much smaller in scale and allowed for greater upward social mobility—from slave to Sultan, from peasant to paramount chief.

Indigenous systems of slavery were uniracial—black masters, black slaves. Islamic forms of slave-systems were multi-racial, both masters and slaves could be of any race or color. Indeed, Egypt and Muslim India evolved slave dynasties. Western slave systems were the most racially polarized in the modern period—white masters, black slaves (biracial) (Winks 1972; Klein 1986; Lewis 1990).

In 1856, as two young girls in the eastern Cape stood guarding their fields from the birds, they were approached by two strangers who entrusted them with a prophetic message:

Such millennial visions in Africa have varied over time and space. While some prophets predicted that great winds would arise, driving Europeans into the sea, others promised that wealthy black brethren would arrive by airplane from America to right the ills of white domination. In either case, the cataclysmic event would usher in a time of harmony, peace and prosperity. As the current millennium approaches, many scholars of Africa are voicing a comparable sense of crisis, a feeling that our understanding of the continent must be reimagined, reconfigured and reconstructed. Unlike Africans of earlier generations, however, we no longer predict a harmonious world emerging from the ashes of the old.

This article examines the epistemological certainties and uncertainties of Akan spirit possession and witchcraft knowledge. It is based on fieldwork carried out between 1990 and 1991 in Dormaa-Ahenkro, Brong-Ahafo region, Ghana. The article examines the transcendental knowledge found among antiwitchcraft shrine gods and their priests and how the sacred knowledge of gods is utilized to counter witchcraft in the modern postcolony. This, it is argued, is an ambiguous process, involving the “partial” knowledge of the shrine priest versus the “complete” picture of events held by the god. However, it is suggested that antiwitchcraft practices are very popular among priests because this type of knowledge allows the priest to manage uncertainty at first hand. The witch confesses directly to the priest, and this knowledge is not mediated through a god.