Shopping malls: Signs of Angola’s rising middle-class

A view of Luanda's Central Business District taken on August 30 2012. (Pic: AFP)
A view of Luanda’s Central Business District taken on August 30 2012. (Pic: AFP)

During almost 30 years of civil war, “we’ve never had a supermarket like this – it’s a undeniable gain, and another sign of Angola‘s development,” he said, combing the aisles of Kero, a local hypermarket chain.

Supermarkets and shopping malls are signs of Angola‘s rising middle class as the southwest African nation’s economy has grown rapidly in the last decade thanks to its large oil resources.

Retailer Kero has jumped on the burgeoning prosperity, opening a dozen branches in the past four years with two more set to open soon, bolstering a local workforce of 5 000.

Domestic products make up 30 percent of total sales, creating more local jobs, according to a recent study by consultancy firm Deloitte.

Not far from the polished floors and well-lit aisles of the supermarket, at the far end of the parking lot, a group of women sit back in plastic chairs under a tree.

They are selling cellphone airtime, vegetables and exchanging dollars for Angolan kwanza.

“We set up here after the supermarket opened,”  says Maria. “It’s a great location. There are a lot of pedestrians so there are lots of opportunities to make a sale.”

This coexistence of formal and informal economies is reflected across Angola, a nation where extreme poverty and newfound wealth live cheek by jowl.

A woman and child sit in front of their stall in Sambizanga informal settlement outside the capital Luanda August on 28 2012. (Pic: Reuters)
A woman and child sit in front of her stall in Sambizanga informal settlement outside the capital Luanda August on 28 2012. (Pic: Reuters)

Changing lifestyles
After the devastation of a violent civil war between 1975 and 2002, oil has fuelled the country’s economy, which has grown by 3.9 percent this year and is expected to expand by 5.9 percent in 2015, according to the IMF.

While many complain that the oil wealth has mainly lined the pockets of the elite, the sprouting of big shopping centres is a sign of more people in the middle class, currently about a fifth of the population.

“In the last 10 years, we have witnessed the growth of a middle class both in Luanda and the rest of the country,” said Feizal Esmail, who is helping build a mall with 240 stores in Luanda.

He’s already planning a shuttle service for shoppers from more remote provinces.

Economics professor Justino Pinto de Andrade says increasing wealth is also changing lifestyles and social mores.

“A section of the population has seen its purchasing power increase and, because they work during the week, they concentrate their shopping on the weekend,” he said.

“At the big malls they can buy everything they need at once,” he added.

“And there’s more evidence for this social dynamic: more small cars, high-rise real estate projects, and the spreading use of credit cards.”

In this regard Angola reflects a growing trend across the continent.

A third of Africans – about 370 million people – now belong to the middle class, according to an African Development Bank study published in late October.

By African standards, these individuals spend between $2 and $20 a day, and have access to water, electricity, cars and a number of household goods like televisions and refrigerators.

Street trading
But the middle class is still far from a dominant group in Angola, said sociologist Joao Nzatuzola.

An August study by economists from South Africa’s Standard Bank put Angola‘s middle class at 21 percent of the population. By 2030, they estimate the country will have an extra one million middle class households.

But 54 percent of the population still live on less than $2 a day.

For many, street trading or traditional markets remain their sole source of revenue.

“The multiplication of supermarkets has not overtaken street trading, which is still flourishing,” said Nzatuzola.

Nelson Pestana, professor at the Catholic University of Angola, sees the emergence of supermarkets as a test for small traders, but not an insuperable one.

“The arrival of supermarkets poses a challenge to small businesses, but the informal sector is more resilient because it has advantages not offered by the malls, like selling used goods or negotiating prices,” said Pestana.

A bigger threat could ultimately be the Angolan government’s plans to regulate informal trade, organising a network of traditional markets in licensed premises.

Estelle Maussion for AFP

Morocco: Once a stopover, now a home for migrants

African migrants sit on top of a border fence between Morocco and Spain's north African enclave of Melilla during their latest attempt to cross into Spanish territory, on April 3 2014. (Pic: Reuters)
African migrants sit on top of a border fence between Morocco and Spain’s north African enclave of Melilla during their latest attempt to cross into Spanish territory, on April 3 2014. (Pic: Reuters)

In a back alley in the Moroccan capital, the small household repair shop opened by Moctar Toure since escaping conflict in his native Côte d’Ivoire is doing a brisk business.

At the gates of Europe, Morocco has long been a transit point for migrants from sub-Saharan Africa looking to make the dangerous journey across the Mediterranean.

But tighter immigration controls and economic malaise in Europe have made the kingdom a destination in its own right for many.

In spite of the challenges that living in Morocco poses for migrants, Toure wants to stay permanently and got his legal papers last year.

“In the beginning it wasn’t difficult… it was impossible,” said the Ivorian, who migrated to Morocco nine years ago.

For several years after his arrival he relied on whatever odd jobs came up.

Toure struggled with a family to support, and it was only when he received his residency permit that he was able to secure a regular income.

With the help of local refugee agency Amapp, he got a roof over his head and rented a small space where he started his shop a few months ago in a working-class neighbourhood of Rabat.

Toure has even managed to employ a fellow Ivorian to meet demand from customers, most of whom are locals.

Although he is still working to integrate with society, “to return to Côte d’Ivoire would be something abnormal”, he said.

 Multiple rejections
The alternative to staying in Morocco for many is a perilous sea voyage across the Mediterranean.

According to figures from the UN’s refugee agency, more than 2 500 people have drowned or been reported lost at sea this year trying to cross the sea to Europe.

They include people who have fled poverty-stricken nations in sub-Saharan Africa, preferring to risk their lives at the hands of people smugglers.

Those who remain in Morocco face a struggle to access education and healthcare.

This year, in response to a migrant influx and criticism from rights groups, authorities launched a scheme to naturalise migrants and refugees, who number about 30 000.

By the end of October, 4 385 residency permits had been delivered out of more than 20 000 requested.

Serge Gnako, president of the migrant organisation Fased in the economic hub Casablanca, arrived five years ago.

The 35-year-old Ivorian said he was deported several times and it was “difficult to access healthcare or to school your children”.

Gnako believes Morocco is changing, however, and is hopeful his one-month-old son will receive a solid education.

“I see our future in Morocco, and I hope my child will learn Arabic,” said the former university lecturer, who now teaches French.

Thanks to a recent ministerial ruling, Gnako’s local school in the residential suburb of Oulfa now has 15 students from sub-Saharan Africa.

 ‘No magic wand’
Migrants in Morocco still face problems after gaining residency, especially in finding work in a country where youth unemployment is near 30 percent.

“Your residency permit lets you look for work, not to find it,” said Reuben Yenoh Odoi, a member of the Council of sub-Saharan Migrants in Morocco.

Many still consider “going to sea”, said Odoi, a Ghanian, referring to the treacherous maritime crossing to Spain.

Several hundred migrants recently tried to storm the Spanish enclave of Ceuta on the north African coast, leading to the arrest of more than 200.

Driss el Yazami, president of the National Human Rights Council, the group tasked with Morocco’s residency programme, recognises that the process is still in its infancy.

“Getting your papers is not a magic wand for integration,” he said.

In addition, tensions between local and migrant communities remain fraught.

In August, a Senegalese man was killed in clashes between migrants and residents in the northern port city of Tangiers.

But such impediments do not faze Simon Ibukun, a Nigerian musician who plans to settle in Casablanca.

“I’m Moroccan, and I’m working hard to get into the management business and become my own boss,” he said.

Zakaria Choukrallah for AFP

‘Africa Stop Ebola’: A better alternative to ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas?’

Social media is rallying behind an alternative to Bob Geldof’s Band Aid 30, which champions advice and solidarity over scenes of desperation designed to tug at the heart and purse strings of the general public.

Africa Stop Ebola was recorded before the release of Geldof’s third rehash of the charity single Do They Know It’s Christmas?, and includes well-known African musicians such as Tiken Jah Fakoly from Côte d’Ivoire and Malian artists Amadou and Mariam, Salif Keita and Oumou Sangare.

The #AfricaStopEbola hashtag is being used to share and discuss the alternative charity single, which has seen an increase in support since Band Aid 30 launched on Sunday.

The lyrics capture the collective sadness felt in countries most badly hit by the disease: “Africa is full of sadness, to see our families die … everyone is in danger … we must act”, attempts to tackle the broader issues around the disease and shares practical medical advice, like the verse sang by Fakoly:

If you feel sick the doctors will help you

I assure you, the doctors will help you

There is hope to stop Ebola

Have confidence in the doctors

The official YouTube video has been watched nearly 200 000 times and it is currently at number 78 on the iTunes download charts. BandAid 30 is at number one. All profits of the song will go to Medecins Sans Frontiers/Doctors without Borders, who are working to treat the virus in the region.

Africa Stop Ebola is a radical departure from Band Aid, whose tactic has been to scramble together the biggest pop stars in the world – from One Direction to Bono – and encourage the western public to dig deep with emotive lyrics.

Maeve Shearlaw for the Guardian Africa Network. Read the full story here.

Miniskirt attack: This is not a Kenyan issue, this is an African issue

Women take part in a protest along a main street in Nairobi on November 17 2014. They demanded justice for a woman who was attacked for being dressed 'indecently'. (Pic: Reuters)
Women take part in a protest along a main street in Nairobi on November 17 2014. They demanded justice for a woman who was attacked for being dressed ‘indecently’. (Pic: Reuters)

It is a funny thing, the African’s relationship with his Africanness. Like the Christian discusses ‘the flesh’ when falling into the temptation to commit sins, the African brings up the question of Africanness when defending his anti-social behaviour.

When a group of men in Kenya put it into their minds to undress and assault a woman in public because she was dressed “indecently”, some African men defended this move and shrouded their argument in the opaque veil of Africanness. On Facebook posts of this story, top-voted comments included pleas to African women to remain “decent”.

Although it may seem perfectly natural for me to choose anger in such a situation, I decided to skip that step and muse on the meaning of “decency” in the mind of the modern African.

To whom shall we credit such a notion, but the missionaries? To me, it seems the term is only ever used to demonise some part of the African population. Whether it is homosexuals, or women wearing miniskirts, the question of Africanness is only ever brought up when violations of human rights are committed by Africans. But where did such an idea begin?

It is easy to surmise my previous conclusion, with an examination of even the simplest look into African history. With the introduction of European missionaries to African society came the idea of “decency” – more so the idea that the scanty attire of traditional Africans was indecent.

For how else can this notion develop organically in the minds of people who live in one of the hottest climates in the world? Surely, it cannot. We cannot claim that an obsession with covering up the bodies of women – a very Victorian obsession – could have developed naturally in the minds of African people.

I say “African” and not “Kenyan” because this issue is not confined to one African country. Just last year Swaziland talked about enforcing anti-miniskirt laws that were penned during, gasp, colonial times. Even in my native Botswana, there was a time when young girls were warned against wearing revealing attire at the bus station. This is not a Kenyan issue, it is an African issue.

To take it further, this is not a dress issue, it is an identity issue. More specifically, this is a crisis of identity. There must exist some conflict in the mind of a man deeming a woman in a miniskirt indecent when only a century ago his ancestors deemed even less clothing perfectly acceptable. Particularly when events still exist in the contemporary setting where African women dress in said traditional attire without protest from the very men happy to police the dress of women in urban settings. The disjoint in logic can only be rationalised by a mind in conflict.

In condemning the miniskirt, the modern African joins in the tradition of condemning his ancestors – a tradition inspired by the European missionaries of the 18th century.

I say this because even those that condemned the behaviour of these men used words like “barbaric” and “primitive” to describe them – in other words, they used the language of colonialism. Even in the minds of those that deplored this behaviour, there swam images of some immoral ancestors that went about undressing women.

This too is a symptom of an identity crisis, of associating decency with Other, and then going further to associate the immoral acts committed in the name of correcting indecency with barbarism, or quite clearly pre-colonial Africanness.

Both assumptions are founded in missionary teachings, whether asserters know it or not. It is this idea that pre-colonial Africans truly were morally bankrupt. This is incorrect.

Even in the most patriarchal societies (if there is such a scale), I doubt that undressing a woman in public would happen without consequence. The dignity of a woman may have not belonged to her, but it belonged to somebody (likely, a father or husband) and doing whatever it took to violate it would not have gone unpunished. Our ancestors were not a group of speaking baboons: they too, had standards of conduct.

Ultimately, when situations like this arise, it is necessary that we examine our thinking and then act accordingly. We cannot allow people to use African culture as a scapegoat. We must be able to see if anything is to be deemed “barbaric” it is the idea that enforcing European missionary ideals in modern Africa is in some way “right.” We must examine our beliefs about decency and dignity and reconcile them with a switch in thinking: with an embracing of the realities that we inhabit. It should be a priority for us in this day and age to correct mentalities that defend any violations of basic human rights and use understanding of history to inspire the creating of environments that nurture and heal our social, religious and mental conflicts. And for this to be done, we should know that there are no [insert african nation] problems, but African problems.

Siyanda Mohutsiwa is a 21-year-old mathematics major at the University of Botswana. She is currently slumming it in Finland. Follow her on Twitter: @SiyandaWrites 

We’re falling into Ebola’s trap because we didn’t learn from the Aids epidemic

A medical worker checks his protective clothing  at an MSF facility in Kailahun, Sierra Leone. (Pic: AFP)
A medical worker checks his protective clothing at an MSF facility in Kailahun, Sierra Leone. (Pic: AFP)

I can’t help but notice the similarities of the world’s reaction to Ebola today and to Aids 30 years ago.

When Aids first appeared in the early 1980s, scientists explained that the disease was transmitted primarily by sex, blood transfusions and shared needles.

But, in fear of the deadly disease, many were quick to blame gay men, sex workers, Haitians and Africans. Some suggested that Aids was God’s punishment for sinful sexual behaviours.

In the first decade of Aids, we let ignorance, indifference, hate, stigma and discrimination guide us. We missed the point. World action started late, and we lost millions of people to Aids.

Finally, in the 1990s, it became obvious that HIV and Aids could affect married couples, pastors, sport stars, hemophiliacs, rape survivors and children. Children like me.

I belong to the first ever generation of children born with HIV. As a child, I was very thin and my classmates called me names, like “skeleton” and “Aids”. I would go home and tell my dad. He would comfort me, saying: “You can’t have Aids, it’s for older people, you are just a kid, you are my little queen.” He would kiss me and hug me and make me forget the bullying.

Blame and shame
I became an activist when I was 18 years old. I didn’t and still don’t like the Aids image in people’s minds. Some quickly ask: “How did you get it?” When I say I was born with HIV, they keep asking: “Who brought HIV into your family?” and often jump to conclusions, like “Men are unfaithful”, suggesting my dad was a bad guy.

My dad wasn’t a bad guy! He was infected and affected by HIV and the world didn’t assist him much. Instead they judged him and called him names. As I look back, I realise all he went through, raising me as a single father when my mum died, burdened with guilt and guided by love, convincing me to take medication and answering my questions. He died painfully from Aids 17 years ago and I still miss him.

One day, at an Aids conference in Rwanda, I met a distant aunt. She started describing my dad as an evil man who had infected my mum and me with HIV. With tears in my eyes, I refused to listen.

It hurts when people fail to understand the pain my dad went through and to acknowledge that he raised me lovingly and gave me everything I have now, from my name to my education.

With Ebola, some are acting like my aunt, stigmatising Ebola sufferers, survivors and caregivers.

We can’t fight an epidemic by ostracising affected communities. We can only win if we let science and compassion guide our interventions.

The Ebola epidemic is proving that the world hasn’t changed much. We are quick to stigmatise, discriminate and criminalise affected communities.

African boys are bullied and called Ebola at American schools, a volunteer saving lives in West Africa is unreasonably quarantined in the USA, and visa and travel bans punish citizens from Ebola-affected countries. Do people really think they can create a safe haven by shutting out others?

An MSF medical worker feeds a child at an MSF facility in Kailahun on August 15 2014. Kailahun along with Kenama district is at the epicentre of the world's worst Ebola outbreak. (Pic: AFP)
An MSF medical worker feeds a child at a facility in Kailahun, Sierra Leone on August 15 2014. Kailahun along with Kenama district is at the epicentre of the world’s worst Ebola outbreak. (Pic: AFP)

Stigma, discrimination, travel bans and prejudice won’t solve Ebola.

Instead, we should unite against the HIV and Ebola viruses. We can do more, and better.

“The AIDS disease is caused by the HIV virus but the Aids epidemic is caused by HIV and Aids- related hate, indifference, stigma and discrimination and criminalisation,” said singer Elton John.

The same applies to Ebola. Let’s not fall into Ebola’s trap. We can’t afford to lose more people by ignoring science and conceding to bigotry and stigma.

Claire Gasamagera is an HIV activist from Rwanda, with a degree in food technology and a passion for defending the rights, health and dignity of young people living with HIV. She is the founder of Kigali Hope Association, which later became Rwanda Young Positives.