Conjecture on any aspect of future events in Africa is hazardous; applied to politics, it may be altogether unsafe. Yet one cannot avoid looking into the future in some way. In essence our guesswork consists of extrapolations based upon trend analysis. A number of present events and forces display characteristics that suggest persistence. The convergence of the forces and their persistence offer reasonable basis for projections into the future.

Judging by the nature of past superpower involvements in Africa, it is easy to make a case for future interventions by both superpowers and intermediate (European) powers in Africa beyond the year 2000.

My statement is not an attempt to convey new information. Indeed, anyone reading simply the record of the Congressional hearings will have all the essential and relevant facts. Why is it that we have been ever searching for but never coming to the truth? Why do we listen but never hear, look but never see, manipulate but never truly feel? Perhaps we express the right facts but the wrong values?

Prophecy is one of the simplest ways for an historian to destroy his credit and reputation. Having been persuaded to take this risk, I shall partly cover it with one small insurance policy: I shall set forth what seem to me to be the relevant facts, but not be too dogmatic about the conclusions to be drawn from them.

Where will South Africa stand twenty-five years from now? What will have happened during those years? In theory there are, I think, only four possibilities: (i) that the status quo will remain essentially unchanged; (ii) that radical changes, involving or at least leading to the abolition of all racial discrimination, will come about peacefully, by constitutional means; (iii) that the regime will be overthrown by invading foreign forces; and (iv) that it will be overthrown by revolution within the country, with or without foreign support. As there are strong reasons for believing that none of these alternatives is really possible, some factor seems to have been overlooked. Perhaps it will appear as the four alternatives are examined.

In the heydays of African socialism, Tanzanian President Julius Nyerere declared that socialism was a state of mind. It was, it turned out, the state of mind of some intellectuals, but neither of the mass of the population nor of those in a position to turn an ideal into a political and economic system. In the early 1990s, democracy was sweeping through the continent—as the state of mind not only of a few intellectuals but of a larger segment of the population, although by no means all. It was revulsion against the abuses and human rights violations perpetrated by single party and military regimes, against the lack of accountability of leaders and the economic hardship brought about by years of mismanagement on the part of officials seeking first the political kingdom.

Paraphrasing Félix Houphouët-Boigny, Ivoirian politician Camille Aliali once said, “Democracy is a system of government for virtuous people. It seldom works even in mature countries. We must be realistic. Our people are ignorant of the problems we face. They cannot be left to choose the solutions,....” In 1990, the president and his close associates changed their minds. On May 3, 1990, the president of Côte d’Ivoire announced the legalization of opposition parties and the intent to hold multi-party elections. On October 28, Ivoirians voted in their first multi-candidate presidential election, which pitted the eighty-five year old Houphouët against long-standing critic and candidate of the “democratic left” coalition, Laurent Gbagbo.

In this article Newell uses two case studies to explore one of the central threads of Mbembe’s Abiola lecture, the idea that there is a relationship between the plasticity of digital technology and African cosmologies of the deuxième monde. One case concerns the viral YouTube video #sciencemustfall, in which students at the University of Cape Town criticize “Western” science and demand that African forms of knowledge such as witchcraft be incorporated into the meaning of science. The second case considers fieldwork among the brouteurs of Côte d’Ivoire, internet scammers who build intimate relationships on false premises using social media. They acquire shocking amounts of wealth in this way which they display on their own social media accounts. However, they are said to use occult means to seduce and persuade their virtual lovers, trapping their prey in the sticky allure of the world wide web. Newell uses both examples to highlight the overlaps between the transformational efficacies embedded in both occult ontologies and digital worldings, calling for the possibility of using African cosmologies of the second world to produce a ‘theory from the south’ of virtual sociality.

As evidenced by the widespread controversy surrounding an otherwise small-scale mining investment pending in Casamance, Senegal, uncertainty shapes the extension of the extractive frontier. Fent argues that amid this uncertainty, different actors are able to politicize or depoliticize extractive investments through the work of scaling. Opponents cast the project as part of larger-scale, longer-term extraction, linking it with regional narratives. By contrast, state and corporate actors depoliticized the mine by emphasizing its limited extent and downscaling conflict to the local level. This demonstrates the conflictual processes through which extractive frontiers are realized—and resisted—through both space and time.

During the early 1970s, the Sahel suffered from drought and famine. Previous research has emphasized how these factors weakened West African states. The drought, however, provided an opportunity for a transnational river organization in the Senegal River basin (the OMVS) to obtain financing for an integrated development program. Wall shows how the OMVS leveraged concern about famine to obtain funding. She uses digital text analysis to demonstrate institutional priorities shifting to focus on agriculture. This combination of document analysis with digital methods demonstrates how famine strengthened a multi-state organization, requiring a revision of how this event affected African political capacity.

In the spring of 1973, the authors conducted a survey of political scientists teaching African politics courses at American colleges and universities. Our intention was to collect and disseminate information about: (1) the techniques used in teaching African politics, (2) the books assigned most frequently to students, (3) the choice of African political systems for emphasis in the classroom, and (4) the current level of student interest in African politics. Information was also collected about those who teach African politics: how many have done field research, in which countries do they have the most expertise, and which approaches to political development do they find useful in teaching?

The purposes of this survey were several. One was simply to collect the above information and make it available to teachers of African politics—hopefully, it will be useful to those in this field to know which teaching techniques, approaches, texts, etc., others have found successful in the classroom. A second purpose was to elicit comment on the popularity of African politics as an academic discipline. We hypothesized before conducting this survey that certain trends we had observed locally might be applicable nationally. In particular, we felt that in the post-Vietnam period in the United States, student interest and enrollment in comparative politics courses, on Africa as well as other regions, might be decreasing. The possible reasons for this are multiple, but one can speculate that a mood of isolationism following the Vietnam fiasco might adversely affect enrollment. Further, the uncertain state of the economy and continued high unemployment may induce a shift away from liberal arts courses toward more specifically career-oriented disciplines.

As used in this article, indigenous cooperatives refer to those informal arrangements under which some or all members of different families help one another by working together or by consuming food and drink together while maintaining their separate existence as economic entities. This definition, I hope, clearly distinguishes them from modern cooperatives, which are joint undertakings formed for the purpose of running a modern business. I speak of African indigenous cooperatives because the ones that I have experience of are based on African practices and customs. While I am aware from the writings of economic anthropologists that this mode of economic organization is used in other continents, it is conceivable that details may differ among different peoples. Such issues, however, are not my concern here.

The purpose of this study is the humble one of attempting to classify the cooperative arrangements that have been briefly described above. To the researcher or intending researcher in this field, a knowledge of what types of cooperation exist would probably help him in clarifying his research proposals and in planning what information to collect, among other things. Given the hazards of research, it may save him effort and other resources.

Second, the matter is important because of the significance which some African leaders attach to such cooperatives as instruments for socializing their economies. The issue here is which types of cooperation should be used to achieve economic growth and in which activities, while at the same time leading to what is deemed an equitable distribution of income and wealth. Unless careful research has been done on all aspects of cooperation, it would be rash to say that this should be discarded or that should be adopted. Suppose that cooperative labour proves to be less efficient than hired labour. Do we then rely on hired labour, hoping that cooperation in consumption or in using property will take care of equity in income and wealth distribution?

At the NGO African Women's Task Force Meeting in Nairobi in April 1988, Sara Longwe suggested that the “main problem in Africa is to shift women's development above the welfare level in the face of resistance from male dominated government bureaucracies.” She also maintained that ”… women's welfare is not likely to be much improved until the affected women themselves achieve control in such areas as control over factors of production and distribution of income and benefits… This dimension is concerned with women's power to control their own lives and become independent and self-reliant — both individually and collectively — on equal terms with men. Equality in control is the ultimate objective of the process of empowerment.“

African writers in English have done much to enlarge the image of Africa in the world. The novelists among them have contributed most to the understanding of the African points of view and perspectives on life, politics, culture and history. In their roles as chroniclers, custodians of the collective heritage, social critics, teachers and visionaries of their people, the novelists have illuminated the African situation and the forces that have kept the continent in an endemic state of crisis.

Public opinion of late has been riveted to Africa’s southwest. The prospects of a settlement are glimmering on the horizon. Although the prospects are not completely clear, we can begin to view concrete steps toward a peaceful settlement in the region.

Between December 24, 1971, and January 5, 1972, I visited the Rhodesian cities of Bulawayo, Gwela and Salisbury, and the African rural districts of Essexvale, Gwanda, Filabusi andSeke. I met with chiefs, community and civic leaders, African Members of Parliament, one African lawyer and one African doctor, several businessmen and many ordinary country people. I attended meetings, beerhall sessions and church services. I also came into contact with Europeans at the University of Rhodesia, at the office of the Chief Native Commissioner, top officials in the Ministry of African Education, one Native Commissioner and several lesser European government officials.

Focusing attention on subsistence cultivators is one of the logical starting points for examining rural Africa from a geographical perspective. Such farmers, functioning within a physical setting that provides both opportunities and constraints, must depend for survival on a familiarity with environmental qualities and contend with extreme conditions. Within this situation an agricultural system must be designed to provide for current food consumption plus a surplus that will vary with local circumstances.

Both agricultural practices and environmental characteristics impinge, in turn, on systems of settlement and mobility. Neither the individual nor the farm family is static, but circulates within a defined area and may eventually relocate when circumstances require. When land is actually allocated, not only subsistence needs are taken into account, but also social regulations such as those concerning the distribution of homesteads relative to the distribution of fields.

Thus, this overview of the rural African will be concerned with a sequence of four interrelated factors: (1) the dominant mode of food production, (2) the environmental setting, (3) a scheme for organizing terrestrial space at a local scale, and (4) a systematic approach to migration. Within the context of these spatial and environmental factors, the process of change can be superimposed; operating gradually at first and then accelerating, especially during the last hundred years. As population density has increased, as land has become more scarce, and as the commercialization of agriculture has spread, the basic relationship of environment, production, settlement structure, and mobility have been modified. Simultaneously, the cultivator has been evolving into a peasant.

The University of Dar es Salaam has a long history of links with universities in different parts of the world. Currently it has formal link agreements with 61 universities in Africa, Asia, and Europe, including 12 in North America (11 in the United States and 1 in Canada). Seven out of the 12 include student exchange at undergraduate or graduate levels. These universities include Carleton, Brown, Connecticut, Hampton, Florida, Iowa, North Carolina (Chapel Hill), universities in the consortium of American Lutheran colleges, and a number of others organized under the International Student Exchange Program (ISEP) and the International Reciprocal Student Exchange Program (IRSEP).