I’m an African African-American

(Pic: Flickr / CPOA)
(Pic: Flickr / CPOA)

The term “African-American” is controversial and highly debatable. I have stood on the sidelines firmly glued to words that sprang up from Africans and African-Americans (or Black Americans as some prefer) as both groups expressed their opinions in regards to the term. “African-Americans are classless”, “I cannot trace my roots back to Africa, hence I am Black American” are only two of the countless sentiments that chronicle the tension between Africans and African-Americans. As inciting as the discussions we can derive from these perspectives are, I will focus on another dimension: African African-Americans; my generation who has quickly embraced this American culture which permits me to dare say that although I am African-born, bred and raised sans ever gracing the Land of the free and Home of the brave, I am African-American.

I and my fellow equals to whom this identity can be attributed to, can be labelled as such by virtue of having adopted the African-American culture. Let us have a brief look at the definition of culture.

In eighth grade during a lesson of Arts and Culture presented with the task of defining culture using the minimum words possible, we agreed that “culture is a way of life” and it is upon this very definition that I present my opinion and concept here today.

We know that The Media is a powerful tool and plays a vital role in not only shaping but dictating our world during this Information Age era. It is also no secret that America is a giant in this arena and has its culture being consumed worldwide through the various platforms of mass communication.

What are the implications? The perception is that as we consume American culture more and more, we forget and occasionally disdain our own.

As a Black woman, let me talk about my personal relationship with Afro-American culture specifically.

I grew up with Afro-American influences from art to religion, and despite having a strong sense of my African identity due to leaving my home country and being prompted to mix with other Africans for the camaraderie of being foreigners, I loved African-Americans. I loved them more than me, I knew them more than me.

I discovered hip-hop and it was my daily bread. The genre exposed me to ideals, sentiments, names and to the lives of Black Americans and although I was conscious of my African identity I was oblivious to it. The walk and the talk of the African-American was what I esteemed to be the epitome of “cool” and “Black success”. The likes of Will Smith and Bill Cosby graced my screen before I was convinced to trust the African film industry. With arguments like “Why so much witchcraft?” and “Why is the quality awful?” I boycotted our industry. I was not only drawn to mainstream culture and entertainment but also to less general aspects so do not deduce this to be a mere result of the Afro-American culture epidemic. It was a choice, a preference and now reflecting, I am sorry I knew Malcom X before Patrice Lumumba, James Brown before Miriam Makeba and even my beloved Maya Angelou before Wole Soyinka.

I knew them more than me due to Africa’s failure to talk about Africa. Our inability to narrate our history and our incompetence to document, chronicle and praise our identity and reality.

Now in my young adulthood a self-titled unapologetic Pan-Africanist, I vividly see the challenges and feel both Africa and African-America in my spirit. We preach the same gospel thus I identify, although I witnessed no Middle Passage I am Kunta Kinte, my heart bleeds for Sharpeville and Ferguson with the same intensity. This spirit not only certificates me to stand in solidarity but also outlines my interpretations. And conflicts arise confronted with the “conservative African ideals” versus the “modern African ideals” fundamentals. This in addition to the incapability to wholly connect to my African roots due to the “de-africanisation” of Africa during colonial rule.

I grasp the little identity left and to the horror of my elders pollute it with African-American ideals that are intertwined with diverse and vast philosophies from the melting pot that is America.

And so here lies the dilemma: We are proud of our roots and connected to it within our capacity but shy away from it due to our ignorance birthed from not knowing and comprehending enough, defensive about our alterations as we consider our adaptations to be “progression” and “modernism”. Then we are left with teaching our children that they are African and telling our parents that we are American. African-American…

I treasure the philosophies of the yesteryears that shaped me and simultaneously uphold the enlightenments of the todays that mould me.

If culture is indeed a way of life, then my days that were packed with Black American thoughts, Black American music, Black American dance, Black American clothing, Black American mannerisms and Black American talk among other Black American things do not dismiss me without a label.

I am African but I am “also” African-American.

Clenia Gigi is a a student, avid reader, poet, spoken-word artist, Pan-Africanist, feminist and eternally a child at the face of education.

Nigerian luxury handbags make their mark overseas

Mention northern Nigeria and the first thing that may spring to mind is Boko Haram. Zainab Ashadu is hoping to change that — by selling designer handbags.

The Nigerian designer is the brains behind the Zashadu brand, whose modern, colourful creations use the ancient art of tanning and leather-dyeing from the country’s north.

“I think people like the story behind the bags. They like the fact that the bag has roots and origins,” the 32-year-old told AFP at her bustling workshop in a working class district of Lagos.

Zainab Ashadu poses with her creations at her workshop in Lagos. (Pic: AFP)
Zainab Ashadu poses with her creations at her workshop in Lagos. (Pic: AFP)

From the cramped premises in Festac, which buzzes with the sound of Singer sewing machines, a team of about half a dozen artisans make between 200 and 300 bags every year.

Ashadu’s parents were from the north, which is these days rarely out of the news because of the Islamist insurgency that has been raging since 2009.

But the region has long been known for its high-quality leather, which the designer turns into clutch purses and handbags that sell overseas for between 150 – 800 euros.

The leather comes from the north’s biggest city, Kano, goatskin from the ancient northwestern city of Sokoto as well as python skin from snake farms in the region.

Sustainability, know-how
Unlike European fashion houses, which import raw leather from Nigeria and then tan and dye it overseas, Ashadu decided to make use of the centuries of know-how of artisans in Kano.

“It is very important for me to work in a sustainable way,” she said.

“I work with small families of tanners, the animals are traceable, we use vegetable dyes and other environmentally friendly dyes, and also the dyers work all together to save energy.”

The designer gets her inspiration from hours of hunting for bargains in the maze of stalls in the huge Mushin market, in the Lagos suburbs.

The market sells Nigerian leather off-cuts and rejects, particularly from Italian fashion houses.

“It’s so vibrant… there’s so much leather available and sometimes the sellers have no idea of the quality of what they sell,” said Ashadu.

“There’s antelope – that is very soft – there’s goatskin, sheepskin…”

From there, the material is turned into bags by her team, all of whom have been trained at a specialist school of leatherwork in the northern city of Zaria.

Adaptability
Ashadu is one of an increasing number of returning Nigerians or “repats”, chancing their arm in their home country after years spent overseas.

She spent her early childhood years in Lagos but was a teenager in London, where she was variously a model, actress, buyer and architecture student.

She came back in 2010 and has had to adapt to a different way of doing business.

“You need to be tough-skinned, adaptable and to have a great sense of humour,” she said.

“Nigeria is a very hard place to… do anything, let’s put it that way. It’s definitely very hard to run a business. But it’s more earthy. You feel like your feet are on the ground.”

Understanding and adapting to a different style of doing business is key to getting ahead, with some overseas firms looking to invest in Nigeria put off by red tape and logistical constraints.

Power cuts that often last more than 12 hours are a major problem and force businesses to invest in huge, costly electricity generators.

At Ashadu’s workshop, in a modest house belonging to her family, power comes from a small generator.

What’s important is adapting as much as possible to how her employees work, rather than trying to apply to the letter what she learnt at the London College of Fashion.

‘Made in Africa’
Zashadu bags have won a small but loyal following locally. Private sales have been held in unexpected locations such as a hotel suite with champagne and macaroons and at an upmarket yacht club.

(Pic: Zashadu / Facebook)
(Pic: Zashadu / Facebook)

In the last year, the brand, which is marketed online abroad, has established a presence in boutiques in London, Miami, Dublin, Johannesburg and most recently in Paris.

French designer Charlotte Ziegler, who sells Zashadu bags at the Franck et Fils department store, said she was intrigued by Ashadu’s unusual profile and also its “sustainable luxury”.

But she admits it was a risk.

“For 200 or 400 euros, people sometimes prefer to buy a product with a (recognised) designer label,” she said.

Ashadu is confident and knows that she’s tapped into a trend.

“People love Africa and Africa is something that is new in this way and people love to jump on bandwagons,” she said.

“And this one ticks all the boxes: it’s made in Africa, it’s beautiful-looking, it’s made sustainably, it’s international.”

‘Nanny from hell’: The problem with childcare in Africa

(Pic: Flickr / Aimee Ray)
(Pic: Flickr / Aimee Ray)

A graphic video which showed the abuse of a Ugandan toddler at the hands of Jolly Tumuhirwe , now dubbed “the nanny from hell”, recently made the rounds on social media.

The child’s parents had noticed bruises on their 18-month-old daughter and decided to secretly plant a nanny camera in their home to monitor the maid. The footage showed Tumuhirwe force-feeding, slapping, kicking and stepping on the child. She was arrested and, on Monday this week, pleaded guilty to child torture. The case has been postponed to December 16.

Many people I know could not bear to watch that chilling video. However, the more I read about this story, the more frustrated I got at the reaction – anger, horror, outrage. These are warranted of course, but we don’t seem to be addressing the more important issue here: parental responsibility and childcare options in Africa.

Who put this little girl in the care of someone who obviously is not equipped to do that job? Her parents did. Should the blame then lay partially on them for hiring Jolly? It is also a fact that after the incident, her parents appear to continue to parade their daughter in the media for the whole world to see. When are they are going to realise enough is enough and allow their child to return to a life of normalcy? As a parent, it makes no sense to put my children – no matter their age – through such a public circus.

The real issue parents are facing across Africa is inadequate childcare. We have all heard the horror stories from friends and family: the maid who sneaks her boyfriend into the house and makes out with him in front of the child; the maid who neglects to change nappies; or the one who just walks out and disappears, leaving the child alone at home.

Childcare is a huge problem on our continent because it is treated as an informal sector, much like cleaning – merely a maid’s job. Our children deserve much better than that. Recruitment of domestic workers and/or nannies is not monitored and there is no vetting system to establish the suitability of child minders. We need more than just a list of stock questions to ask potential nannies and maids. In the  United Kingdom, the Office for Standards in Education, Children’s Services and Skills (Ofsted) is the official inspections and regulatory body for services which care for children and young people, as well as educational establishments. Ofsted monitors child minders, nannies and au pairs who are registered. Although it is not compulsory to register with them, it is highly recommended and accepted as good practice. Parents are encouraged to hire Ofsted registered nannies because of the tax incentives afforded to them; where a proportion of their salary is paid through “salary sacrifice“, thus reducing their childcare costs. Nannies benefit from registration because it raises their professional status and accessibility to job opportunities as they are accepted into a searchable database through Ofsted.

They are also required to complete a paediatric first aid course and a childcare and home safety training course. There are other qualifications such as certificates in food safety and hygiene or two-year diplomas in nanny training.

In places such as the UK, US, Canada and Australia, childcare is very serious business. This, beyond a shadow of doubt, means that very few people are able to afford the actual costs of childcare, especially for children under the age of two. In the UK, childcare options such as child minders, daycare nurseries and nannies set parents back by between £600 to £3000 per month. This is the price most working parents who can afford it have to pay because it is increasingly getting difficult for people to raise families on a single income.

If no adequate childcare service is available, then one parent, often the mother, will have to face the choice of forgoing her career and source of income to stay home to look after the children until they are a little older. That may be a small price to pay considering the alternative of having your baby bashed to a pulp.

I believe African countries should follow suit in regulating childcare service in some way. The introduction of legislation requiring a minimum standard for in-home childcare service providers, plus the requirement for registration through a regulatory body would be a step in the right direction. Pre-established organisations such as the Uganda Child Rights NGO Networks (UCRNN) can assist with the establishment of such legislation if they expand their scope beyond child rights advocacy. The private sector would have a huge role to play in providing services which can screen and facilitate the training of child care workers.

What parents can do is raise their expectations of the people they hire. Requesting a proper CV and references from someone of good standing in the applicant’s community is a good way to filter through and judge the suitability of an applicant. Children are far too precious, so we can not afford to risk placing them into the care of people who would not know the difference between washing dishes and caring for infants.

The steps suggested above are still a far cry from what is required to provide a robust system as they still rely heavily on an informal mechanism for raising childcare standards. Ensuring the safety and well-being of our children starts with us but does not end there. Parents need additional support in order to establish the required standard of childcare. Governments should put proper steps in place so that childcare providers are properly trained – and remunerated. Furthermore, the services required to maintain childcare at a desirable standard widens the opportunity for job creation in the formal economy. Whether or not parents may be concerned about bearing the actual costs, is another matter.

Freedes Em is a working mother of two. She is also an African food writer who churns out recipes and comments on African culture. She is the official African Cuisine expert at About.com and blogs at myburntorange.com.

Sudan: Pyramids, souqs and Gaddafi’s hotel in the land tourism forgot

The fine stone carving shows a wide-hipped Nubian queen triumphant over Romans and other foreign pretenders to her throne. Beyond the chapel are the remains of the pyramid that was her royal tomb. In immaculate silence, dozens more ancient pyramids dot the landscape where, as Shelley put it, “the lone and level sands stretch far away”.

This is Meroë in Sudan, a country that boasts more pyramids than Egypt. The road to Meroë was built by an unlikely entrepreneur – Osama bin Laden, who later relocated to Afghanistan. This is just one example of the weird and wonderful experience of being a tourist in Sudan. That so few make the trip is, critics say, an indictment of the government’s failure to exploit its fabulous potential as a destination.

A boy plays near the site of 44 Nubian pyramids of kings and queens in the ruins of the ancient city of Meroë. (Pic: Reuters)
A boy plays near the site of 44 Nubian pyramids of kings and queens in the ruins of the ancient city of Meroë. (Pic: Reuters)

“Announcing that this year you’re holidaying in the Sudan has an effect on bystanders akin to expressing a liking for punting on the Styx or arm wrestling with alligators,” notes the Bradt travel guide to one of Africa’s most enigmatic lands.

A rare privilege
In the mid-6th century BC, Meroë became the central city of the Nubian Kushite dynasty, the “Black Pharaohs” who ruled from Aswan in southern Egypt to present-day Khartoum. The Nubians were variously both rivals and allies of the ancient Egyptians and adopted many of their rituals, including burying kings, queens and nobles in pyramid tombs.

More than 200 pyramids have been discovered in and around Meroë. Several were decapitated by the 19th century Italian explorer and zealous treasure hunter Giuseppe Ferlini. Finally, in 2011, they gained world heritage site status from Unesco. Darker in hue than those 800 miles to the north in Giza, Egypt, because of the iron-rich rocks here, Meroë later became a centre of iron production and has been dubbed “the Birmingham of Africa” – not necessarily a slogan that will bring British holidaymakers flocking.

Untouched by commercialism, the pyramids are also smaller, drastically less crowded and free of the touts and hustling “guides” who pester patrons of Giza. A ticket seller at the site in Meroë said it usually receives around 10 visitors a day, meaning there are good odds of exploring them entirely alone – a rare privilege at any historical monument in the 21st century.

Tourist secrets
David Belgrove, deputy head of mission and consul-general at the British embassy in Sudan, likes to go camping there and has run into a few German and Japanese tourists, but no Britons. “I remember vividly the first time I saw it,” he said. “We arrived at night so the first I saw was the sun rising on the pyramids. I felt immensely privileged to have the site all to myself. Nothing beats it.”

He added: “A lot of the sites in Sudan are great tourist secrets. The beauty is that you just can pitch up and there are often archaeological teams who will explain to you what they’re doing. The history of civilisations here goes back millennia, but many Sudanese themselves are not aware of it.”

The Islamic government’s lacklustre efforts to promote this heritage could be partly due to distractions that include waging domestic wars on various fronts, the breakaway of the south in 2011 and an economic crisis. But some believe there is also an ideological reason. A Meroë expert, not named here to protect his safety, commented: “Politicians are foolish. They want only Islam. If we talk about the ancient god Amun, they think we believe in it. They say there can only be one religion.

“Also, they are paranoid that all foreigners are spies. They should be open minded but they are closed.”

Sudan has fitfully applied hardline Islamic laws and president Omar al-Bashir, who came to power in a coup 25 years ago, has vowed that the next constitution will be “100% Islamic”. Apparently this includes sightseeing.

One Khartoum-based analyst said: “When the government have occasionally talked about tourism, they talk about Islamic tourism. You don’t get the impression they celebrate the history and things they’ve got on their doorstep. I think there’s a reluctance to embrace what they would regard as heathen worship.”

Gaddafi’s Corinthia Hotel
Nor could Sudan’s government ever be accused of making this a user-friendly destination. For those undeterred by the ongoing conflicts in Darfur and elsewhere, or by last year’s violent protests in Khartoum, a visa is required in advance and can be bureaucratic even by African standards. Travellers to Meroë are also obliged to hand over photocopies of their visitor permit at checkpoints along the way.

On arrival in the country, iPhone users who link to gmail may be disconcerted to find their contacts and emails wiped from their handset. Further investigation elicits the message: “Unable to sign in from this country. You appear to be signing in from a country where Google Apps accounts are not supported.”

This is not the only way in which international sanctions make themselves felt. Credit cards are useless in Sudan and only cash will do. Barclays bank used to be here but not any more. Familiar US fast food chains such as Burger King, KFC and McDonald’s are nowhere to be seen, something that many independent travellers may welcome. Instead of Starbucks, there is Starbox Coffee & Restaurant.

Inside the Corinthia Hotel in Khartoum. (Pic: Facebook)
Inside the Corinthia Hotel in Khartoum. (Pic: Facebook)

But Sudan did have a friend in the slain Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi, manifest in the five-star Corinthia Hotel, built in the 1990s on what used to be the city zoo and resembling a giant glass and steel Easter egg by the Nile. One recent evening, an oil company was hosting a send-off there for one of its executives, while Chinese guests shopped for art and craft souvenirs and glass elevators shot up 18 floors to the Asian-themed Rickshaw restaurant. A receptionist in the gaudy lobby explained that rooms cost $295 a night, while a sign on the desk warned: “Credit cards are not accepted in Sudan.” Outside, a giant photo of The Muppets advertised a children’s cinema.

The Corinthia is part of the jumbled patchwork of architectural styles in dusty, diffuse, sprawling Khartoum, where public spaces are few and far between. The intrepid who come here can view stupendous ancient temples and early Christian paintings at the National Museum, stroll through the colourful Omdurman Souq, find echoes of British colonialism in an old Anglican church, visit the tomb of the Mahdi who famously defeated general Charles George Gordon, watch “whirling dervishes” at the Hamed al-Nil Tomb on Fridays, survey British war graves at a pristine cemetery and sip hibiscus tea on a grass bank by the Nile.

Bin Laden the construction worker
One spot the government is definitely not promoting, however, is the former home of Osama bin Laden in the upmarket al-Riyadh suburb. The future al-Qaida leader moved here from Saudi Arabia in 1991 and invested heavily in agriculture and construction – hence the asphalt road that cut the journey from Khartoum to Meroë to about three and a half hours. But under pressure from the US and Saudi Arabia, Sudan forced Bin Laden out in 1996 and seized some of his personal assets. He moved to Jalalabad in Afghanistan.

Ghazi Salahuddin Atabani, a prominent politician who recently quit the government, met Bin Laden once, in 1993. He recalled: “He didn’t have al-Qaida around him then. He was a construction worker. The main thrust of our discussion was the economy. He talked a lot about the potential Sudan has and the restrictions on investors. We never discussed international politics.

“He was very charming, very charismatic and very softly spoken: you could hardly hear his voice.”

Atabani notes that Sudan lacks the hotels, transport and infrastructure for mass tourism and suggests such development would not entirely be positive. “I saw the pyramids in Egypt in the 60s and there were no tarmac roads,” he said. “When I went back, I was disgusted.”

David Smith for the Guardian Africa Network 

Press 4 for fertilizer: M-farming in Ethiopia

Ethiopian farmer Eshete Eneyew threshes maize in Abay, north of Addis Ababa. (Pic: Reuters)
Ethiopian farmer Eshete Eneyew threshes maize in Abay, north of Addis Ababa. (Pic: Reuters)

One reason farmers in Africa mostly produce so much less than those in other parts of the world is that they have limited access to the technical knowledge and practical tips that can significantly increase yields. But as the continent becomes increasingly wired, this information deficit is narrowing.

While there are other factors, such as poor infrastructure and low access to credit and markets, that have helped keep average yields in Africa largely unchanged since the 1960s, detailed and speedily-delivered information is now increasingly recognised as an essential part of bringing agricultural production levels closer to their full potential.

In Ethiopia, which already has one of the most extensive systems in the world for educating the 85 percent of the population who work the land for a living, this recognition has driven the development of a multilingual mobile phone-based resource centre.

The hotline, operated by the Ministry of Agriculture, the Ethiopian Institute of Agricultural Research, and Ethio Telecom, and created by the Ethiopian Agricultural Transformation Agency (ATA), has proved a huge hit. Since its July launch and still in its pilot phase, more than three million farmers in the regions of Amhara, Oromia, Tigray and the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples’ Region (SNNPR) have punched 8028 on their mobiles to access the system, which uses both interactive voice response (IVR) and SMS technology.

“On average we get approximately 226 new calls and 1 375 return calls per hour into the system,” Elias Nure, the information communication technology project leader at ATA, told IRIN. When the number of lines doubles from the current 90, he said, “these numbers should significantly increase.”

More than 70 percent of users are smallholder farmers, he said.

Timely, accurate
Ethiopia has the largest agricultural extension system in sub-Saharan Africa, the third largest in the world after China and India, according to the UN Development Programme.

This system has led to the establishment of about 10,000 Farmer Training Centres, and trained at least 63,000 field extension workers, also known as development agents. It facilitates information exchange between researchers, extension workers and farmers.
However, the reliance on development agents means that sometimes agronomic information reaches farmers too late or is distorted.

Push and pull factors
The agriculture hotline was proving popular due to its “pull” and “push” factors, according to ATA’s chief executive officer, Khalid Bomba.

Farmers could pull out practical advice, while customised content could be pushed out, such as during pest and disease outbreaks, to different callers based on the crop, or geographic or demographic data captured when farmers first registered with the system.

Recently, it warned registered farmers about the threat posed by wheat stem rust.

“These alerts and notifications were not available to smallholder farmers in the past and could greatly benefit users of the system by getting access to warnings in real-time,” said ATA’s Elias.

According to Tefera Derbew, Ethiopia’s minister of agriculture, ATA should boost its content to meet more needs.

“The IVR system offers users information relevant to the key cereals and high value crops, but I envisage that in the near future there will be the opportunity to upscale the service to include content relevant to all of the major agricultural commodities in the country, including livestock,” said Tefera.

The hotline currently focuses on cereal crops such as barley, maize, teff, sorghum and wheat, but plans are under way to provide agricultural advice on other crops, such as sesame, chickpea, haricot beans and cotton, while incorporating farmers’ feedback on needs.

For Ayele Worku, a teff farmer in Gurage zone of Ethiopia’s SNNPR State, the system’s benefits outweigh the frustrations of a patchy mobile network.

“The way of farming, especially for row-planting for teff is kind of new for me although I heard rumours about its advantage a while ago,” he told IRIN.

This break with tradition in the way teff is sown has seen yields increase by up to 75 percent.

An agricultural extension and rural development expert working at Addis Ababa University, Seyoum Ayalew, said: “The new service could build a synergy with the previous approaches of the public extension system, which is largely based on trickle down approach of communication.”

Seyoum noted that within the traditional extension system, “where information passes through different channels before reaching the farmers, [it] is subjected to distortion through filtering and translation errors.”