Menu
DONATE
Menu
Close Popup

Glamourized Militarism and Africa’s Elusive Liberation

Leave a Comment / Uncategorized / By

On a recent flight to Dakar, a cabin crew member of an African airline enthusiastically greeted a Burkinabe passport holder ahead of me – “Welcome and greetings to Captain Traoré! We love him”.  The passenger smiled and quietly took their seat without the mutual fanfare. This excitement for a younger leader is understandable in a continent with struggling economies and a young population (average age: 19), especially when the country has endured a colonial power such as France, and the new leader seems unafraid in his rhetoric to face the enemy head-on. France still maintains its monetary empire, built around the CFA franc, which in a book co-authored by Senegalese economist, Ndongo Samba Sylla is called “Africa’s Last Colonial Currency” in African countries. France is recognised for its decades-long political interference in the region. Fighting neocolonial powers out of control of African states’ political economy is indeed a fight of our time, just like generations before struggled to decolonize Africa. The Cult of a Military Man Today’s glorification and glamorization of military leaders in Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger, and Guinea – all countries with military regimes in their infancy – on our social media feeds, along with the fabricated achievements should worry anyone concerned with our struggle for liberation as a continent. Far too many African people have firsthand or indirect experience of living under militarised rule and know the enormous cost of militarism on generations, from colonial to post-colonial. It is an old script that has rarely ended in freedom. Yet, today, there is an increasing tilt towards supporting military regimes and the made-up messianic men at the top. As a Ugandan who has only known the rule of President Yoweri Museveni, who took power in a coup in 1986 and, 39 years later, maintains a firm grip on the nation with his family like a monarch, I tend to exercise a measured pessimism of military takeovers. Across the continent, the grim irony of ‘liberators’ morphing into despots is a recurring tragedy. From military coup leaders to elected officials who dismantle constitutions to illegally extend their terms to outright election robbers, the pattern persists.  Prof. Amina Mama, a Nigerian-British feminist intellectual, has observed that “African ‘liberated’ states have never liberated women. It’s been an edifice of male complicity engaged in pacification forever—colonial, post-colonial, neoliberal, theocratic.” It is from this vantage point that my hesitance and low expectations of yet another military regime are rooted. I take the work of African feminists on decolonisation, demilitarisation, and peace seriously. Military rule remains a barrier to freedom and dignity, even when later clothed in a civilian facade of elections.   “The long-term effects of militarization and military rule persist even after civilian governments are established,” says Prof. Mama, “Politics tend to be violent, as competing interest groups organize gangs of thugs to secure elections; protests against dispossession are met with military force, which in turn leads to the militarization of people’s struggles for justice.” When ‘Liberators’ Become Rulers for Life ​​Freedom is a fight to change both material conditions, as much as a fight to live free from violence and the fear of violence. Military rule will never guarantee that. To conflate or equate military rule with a people-led uprising is a great disservice to the fight. Our post-colonial histories are littered with military male power complicity in exploiting people’s legitimate grievances and hopes, only to deliver new forms of oppression, serving our land, resources, lives and futures at the altar of the very imperialists they claim to fight. Pegging our hopes of liberation solely on militarism and being hooked to a military industrial complex we have no ownership of, will quickly drown us in debt as we are forced to chase one arms dealer after another. That’s not freedom.  Ugandan researcher and cultural critic Kalundi Serumaga once wrote about the symbiotic relationship between Uganda and Rwanda leaders that “Illegitimate power cannot rule legitimately, and remains permanently insecure, in crisis and in need of self-validation.”  The junta rule of Colonel d’Armée Assimi Goïta has crafted a “new social contract based on a strongman narrative, portraying himself as Mali’s defender”. On April 29, he led the dissolution of all political parties, making it more difficult to create new ones in the future, requiring a deposit of 100,000,000 FCFA. While similar tactics are seen across the Sahel countries, Captain Ibrahim Traoré of Burkina Faso, who seized power at 34 in 2022, has garnered a mass, cult-like following online, with even Black celebrities chiming in. Much of the online content about Burkina Faso is about the leader, frequently filled with falsehoods, half-truths, and exaggerations that tap into a hunger for a ‘saviour.’  As one African feminist friend wryly noted about our hunger for big men politics, “people are so desperate for heroes that they will even take Satan himself if he says two correct words.” The internet has been a vital tool for young Africans to build community and learn about each other’s experiences, bypassing decades of Western media dominance and racist lenses. Africans can create their own narratives, debunk historic bias and offer counter-narratives. However, when the masses access information engineered by Big Tech through their algorithms, which prioritise popular engagement over fact, profit over proof, it is easy to capitalise on people’s sentiments and amass devotees overnight. In addition to foreign-corporate-controlled and influenced platforms,  limited digital literacy makes it increasingly difficult to separate fact from fiction. Today, AI and deepfakes allow government communication, or its simulacrum, to be taken at face value, circulating unchallenged.  This kind of cult following always arises in moments of heightened foreign interventionist actions, for instance, Libya’s Muammar Gaddafi and Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe. The internet’s mass reach and ability to drown out alternative or dissenting voices make the manipulation of reality far easier today. Critics are quickly labeled, attacked and dismissed as ‘foreign agents’ both by the governments and the very people whose freedom is at stake. This environment is fertile for dangerously oversimplified, binary discourse that deliberately obscures

6 Ancestral Calls To Action For Africa’s Liberation

Leave a Comment / Stories by Us & for Us / By

Africa Liberation Day is a moment not just of remembrance, but of reckoning. While flags were raised and colonial powers retreated, the work of liberation is far from complete. Our ancestors did not fight for symbolism, they fought for dignity, land, self-determination, justice, and the right to thrive. Their visions remain with us, not as distant memories, but as urgent reminders, truths we must carry forward in our daily struggles against neocolonialism, inequality, ecological destruction, and state violence. These six ancestral reminders through quotes from speeches speak to the heart of what liberation truly means: not a change in rulers, but a transformation of systems, values, and power. 1. We Must Put Up A United Front Against Debt  “Debt has to be seen from the perspective of its origins. Those who lend us money are the same ones who once colonized us. They managed our states and economies and created the systems that indebted us. We had no connection to this debt. Therefore, we cannot pay for it.”— A United Front Against Debt, OAU Summit, Addis Ababa, 1987 2. Liberation Must Improve Living Conditions “The people are not fighting for ideas, but to gain material advantages, to live better and in peace. National liberation is meaningless unless it brings real improvement to people’s lives.”— Amílcar Cabral, Return to the Source 3. Women’s Liberation Is Central “Did we understand that the position of women means the condition of more than half our population? That this condition is shaped by social, political, and economic structures? Transforming it cannot be the task of one ministry alone, even one led by a woman.”— Thomas Sankara, Women’s Liberation and the African Freedom Struggle 4. Privatisation is a threat to the people and the planetUntil the arrival of the Europeans, communities had looked to Nature for inspiration, food, beauty and spirituality. They pursued a lifestyle that was sustainable and that gave them a good quality of life. It was a life without salt, soap, cooking fat, spices, soft drinks, daily meat, and other acquisitions that have accompanied a rise in the ‘diseases of the affluent.’ Communities that have not yet undergone industrialisation have a close connection with the physical environment, which they often treat with reverence. Because they have not yet commercialised their lifestyle and their relation with natural resources, their habitats are rich with local biological diversity, both plant and animal. However, these are the very habitats that are most at threat from globalisation, commercialisation, privatisation, and the piracy of biological materials found in them. This global threat is causing communities to lose their rights to the resources they have preserved throughout the ages as part of their cultural heritage. These communities are persuaded to consider their relationship with Nature primitive, worthless, and an obstacle to development and progress in an age of advanced technology and information flow. Wangari Mathaai, The Cracked Mirror Speech, November 11, 2004   5. Black Solidarity Is Power “It is only when all Black groups join hands and speak with one voice that we shall be a force to determine our own destiny. We are not asking for majority rule—it is our right, and we shall have it at any cost.”— Winnie Mandela, Speech after the children’s revolt “children’s revolt” in Soweto in June 1976 and the massacre and repression with which the apartheid régime countered it. 6. Exploitation Must End in All Its Forms “The goal of human equality is the opposite of exploitation. Whatever form it takes, exploitation must be crushed. It is the sacred duty of our institutions to make sure equality is no longer denied.”— Haile Selassie, UN Address, 1963

The “African Values” Agenda of the West is a Tool for Continued Colonialism. We are Not Fooled

Leave a Comment / Stories by Us & for Us / By

A lineup of white men swooping into the African continent to lecture us on African values — if this isn’t imperialism striding boldly among us, then pray, what is it? Currently underway in Wangari Maathai’s beloved homeland — the birthplace of Muthoni Kirima and Dedan Kimathi — is the so-called “Pan-African Conference on Family Values.” It is taking place right here on African soil, in Kenya — a nation that stood at the forefront of one of the most powerful rebellions against imperialism. And yet, it is being led by individuals of European descent — the very same lineage that our ancestors, including Kirima and Kimathi, resisted with their lives in the fight for dignity, autonomy, and self-determination. To the untrained eye, the question may seem innocent: What could possibly be wrong with a conference on family values? Let us be clear: this is no neutral gathering. It is a carefully orchestrated effort to further entrench systems of domination rooted in colonialism, capitalism, neoliberalism, patriarchy, racism, and homophobia. These oppressive and extractive frameworks are cloaked in the ideal of the nuclear Christian family—an imported structure as foreign and cancerous to African traditions as the Global North that now aggressively promotes it. These are not our values. They are the antithesis of our traditions and the liberation we seek. This imposed value system manufactures consent to marginalise and erase entire populations, particularly LGBTQI+ Africans, who have always been part of our societies, loved and accepted in many of our cultures. It strips African women and girls of rights that are fundamental and autonomous. It cultivates ignorance around our sexual and reproductive health and rights. It denies access to life-saving healthcare on a continent that has already endured generational loss and systemic neglect.  The imperialist hand behind this conference was made plain with its first poster—a pale and vast sea of old white male faces. Only after widespread outrage did the organisers make a token gesture of “inclusion,” quickly adding a few African faces to mask the reality.  We are not fooled. We see the far right’s interest in African bodies for what it is: a continuation of millennia-old exploitation. We are aware of their desire to control our minds, our bodies, and our lands in service of their capitalist and neoliberal agendas. History has taught us that Europe’s interest in Africa or African bodies has never risen from any motive other than a twisted desire for domination, powered by greed, self-interest, and an expansionist ethos.  Many African ancestors met untimely deaths trying to survive Europe and its “dark desire” for our people, our land, our minerals, and our spirit. From the grotesque slicing and grabbing of African lands in Germany’s Berlin Conference, to the first European establishments on the continent being corporations, the Imperial British East Africa Company, Royal Niger Company, and Dutch East India Company (VOC) in South Africa. From the  “missionaries” who arrived to grease the wheels of the empire, disabling our will to fight through empty promises of paradises light-years away from our land, and threats of fiery hells for dissenters.  Truly, there has never been a moment when Europe has exhibited admirable values or expressed an interest in Africa that centered our lives, families or wellbeing. The trail of European history is littered with the bodies of African people, enslaved, charred, or mutilated. Our history is populated with African families and lineages permanently ended or separated beyond repair by the slave trade. The sight of imperialists in a room full of their victims speaking of “values” is, at best, laughable. Laughter—because we are beyond tears. As the Yoruba adage says, “Ti oro ba ju ekun, erin ni a fi n rin” (when a situation exceeds tears, we turn to laughter). This conference is not the first attempt at this imperialist agenda. We remain victims of sustained, oppressive state structures that serve foreign interests at the expense of our people and continent. We see the use of moral panic and fertility propaganda as distractions—boogeymen designed to obscure the ongoing economic extraction and environmental destruction of our land. We see how they sow division within African communities, inventing fictional enemies to divert attention from the actual threat.  We must be clear: what does a culture enriched by stealing, rape, plundering, and imperialism have to teach anyone about values?  As African people, we reject the racist, paternalistic infantilisation from imperial powers that pretend to care or claim to understand our value systems. We reject both the white face of imperialism and the Africanised, feminised face it hides behind. We call on the African men, women, and all those bamboozled into alignment with this destructive agenda to see it for what it is: a dishonour to who we are as a people, and an affront to our historical fight for our land, our bodies, and our spirit.  Our traditions have always centred people, not power. Our diversity has always been celebrated on this continent, not erased. We reject the narrow, individualistic definitions of family, freedom, and values being forced upon us. We call on all African people to reject this imperialist imposition and reclaim our right to define who we are, what we believe, and the future we dream of—for us, and by us. We call on African governments: this is your opportunity to become worthy of your ancestors’ sacrifices and to write a history of your lineage that you can be proud of, for future generations. It is time to take this continent seriously and fight for its present and future. Africa is not a spare-parts yard. Our spirit, bodies, art, and minerals are not here to feed plunderers while we starve. We call on African feminists, women and girls: we see how you navigate this colonial world that insists on controlling your bodies, minds, and futures. Do not be deceived by fancy titles covering up harmful agendas that seek to take your very lives. It is time to take an ideological, spiritual, mental, and emotional stance against the

Alchemical Transmutations: A Theme of Transformation and Liberation

Leave a Comment / Uncategorized / By

At the heart of this year’s fellowship, the Sawaba Institute of Critical Consciousness invites its fellows to journey under the evocative theme of Alchemical Transmutations. In this shared space of thought and action, fellows will nurture deep knowledge and ignite anticolonial indignation, challenging the stubborn endurance of coloniality across the realms of power, knowledge, and being. Alchemical Transmutations speaks to a powerful process: the unmasking of colonial legacies and the healing of fractured relational commitments—whether in thought, behavior, belief, or action. This theme calls us to engage transformation not as abstraction, but as a grounded, intentional practice of deconstruction and reconstruction. Through this lens, we are granted the imaginative and intellectual freedom to revisit, reinterpret, and revitalize the vast resources embedded in African philosophies, feminisms, arts, world-building traditions, and education systems. Here, decoloniality is not just a critique—it is a call to repair, to reimagine, and to give shape to new ways of knowing and being. Fellows are invited to reflect deeply on the core questions of mind and meaning. Through practices of exposition, framing, reframing, and repair, we embrace critical consciousness as both awakening and responsibility—a commitment to interrogate inherited norms and to move beyond inertia, towards reflective, liberatory choices. To undergo alchemical transmutation is to become ever more aware of how coloniality has shaped our world—and to courageously participate in the birthing of new realities rooted in dignity, justice, and collective flourishing. Read more about the application process for the 2025 Sawaba Fellowship here Join the Sawaba Fellowship for Decolonial Feminist Transformation

A Modern Take on the Relevance of Gender Quotas for Substantive Women’s Representation in African Politics

Leave a Comment / Stories by Us & for Us / By

Zainab Monisola Olaitan When we think of gender quotas, we are instinctively forced to think about how they help to increase the number of marginalised groups in certain spaces or, for a more gloomy look, how they are used to select unqualified people into certain spaces. These myopic and misguided thoughts are part of why I chose to write a book on gender quotas, or as commonly known, quotas. I was interested in understanding how quotas have fostered an increased number of women in African politics and, beyond that, how they can be used to protect women’s interests. So, I wrote a book on a subject that has always lingered in my mind: the impact of women’s political representation, or as aptly articulated in a question by Reingold (2000), does the election of more and more women into political office mean that women will be better represented? This question forms the bedrock of most literature written on women’s descriptive and substantive representation in politics. Although there were pioneering works that studied women’s representation and the importance of critical mass, or as Kanter calls it, a ‘tipping point’ that predated Reingold’s question. Some of them are Hannah Pitkin’s 1967 book on The Concept of Representation, Rosabeth Kanter’s 1977 book on Men and Women of the Corporation, Drude Dahlerup’s 1988 article on From a Small Minority to a Large Minority: Women in Scandinavian Politics, etc. My book titled ‘Women’s Representation in African Politics: Beyond Numbers’ examines the relevance of gender quotas for the substantive representation of women in African politics. It engages the link between the increased number of women in parliament and the protection of women’s interests. It reimagines quotas as a tool for ensuring the qualitative representation of women beyond their use for increasing the number of women in politics. With a total of nine chapters, the book centers phenomenology as a method of knowledge production by centering the perceptions and opinions of its interview participants in answering some of the questions raised. This phenomenological approach was influenced by my interest in phenomenology (perceptions and experience) and hermeneutics (interpretation), i.e., the interpretation of perceptions and experiences. I enlisted the use of interpretative phenomenological analysis as an analytical framework for the book, enabling me to focus on how women parliamentarians or members of parliament (MPs) and women in civil society organisations (CSOs) made sense of the impact of gender quotas on women’s representation. It also brought to the fore how women generally grapple with the relevance of gender quotas beyond the numerical representation of women in politics and if they believe quotas can be a tool for impact. Women’s representation in African politics is written off the back of numerous debates on the relationship between descriptive (numbers) and substantive (quality) representation of women in politics, the value of quotas beyond numbers, and the contestation over what women’s interests are. Specifically, the debate over quotas has gone on for so long that some regard it as over-flogged or even closed. They hold this sentiment because the debate started with the need for quotas to ensure a critical mass of women in the political system, which was pegged at 30% in the 1990s. However, in recent times, the call for critical mass has shifted toward ensuring gender parity in the political system, a call authoritatively echoed by the Commission for the Status of Women (CSW) in its 2021 65 agreed conclusions. Without the thought that the debate on quotas has been over-flogged, I dedicated a chapter to tracing the adoption and implementation of quotas globally and in Africa to understand how the conversations started and what progress was made (Chapter 3). It is rather surprising that not all African countries have implemented quotas, and some of the countries did it as a checkbox exercise with no progress in sight. This is why the continental average of women’s representation in parliaments stands at 26%, still lower than the initial critical mass goal of 30%. As I noted in the book preface, can we declare the debate on quotas old or closed if Africa is yet to reach the first critical mass goal of 30% women’s representation in politics? I dare say no! Therefore, I took up the task of studying gender quotas and their relevance for protecting women’s interests in two countries (South Africa and Botswana). To situate the discussion on quotas and descriptive and substantive representation of women in African politics, I engaged the works of different African scholars: Shireen Hassim, Cheryl Hendricks, Sylvia Tamale, Monica Kethusegile-Juru, etc. Their works were instrumental in tracing the genealogy of the debate on quotas in Africa and also in understanding the state of play on the continent. Building on this, I extended my curiosity on quotas to understanding how they can be a tool for impact beyond just numbers. How can quotas be a mechanism for protecting women’s interests? In Chapter 5, I engaged gender quotas as a means to foster the substantive representation of women, examining themes such as the value of quotas for impact. This question was answered more in-depth in Chapter 8 by using data findings from interviews with women parliamentarians and women in civil society. I was privileged to interview women parliamentarians in South Africa and Botswana, as well as women working in civil society in the two countries. The idea that I would have to interview MPs was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. I remember having to go through hurdles to get these MPs to agree to be interviewed for my work; it took me months to get my first ‘yes’ from an MP. I thought getting them to agree to be interviewed was the end of it; another hurdle was getting them to sit for the interview. My interviews with the MPs were around the time of the 2022 State of the Nation Address (SONA) in South Africa and budget committee meetings in Botswana, so it was quite difficult to get a hold of them. As a

Welcome to The Library of Perspectives

Leave a Comment / Stories by Us & for Us / By

“Our stories flow beyond borders, even when politics tries to keep us apart.” With these words, Rosebell Kagumire reminded us of the power of storytelling as a tool for resistance, communion, and liberation. Stories transcend artificial boundaries, challenge dominant narratives, and reclaim the knowledge systems that colonial histories have sought to erase. It is in this spirit that we gathered on the 18th of March to celebrate the launch of the Library of Perspectives, a dynamic digital repository that stands as a living, breathing archive of resistance, centering the lives and work of women. This initiative contributes to the disruption and replacement of the knowledge hierarchy primarily shaped by colonial, capitalist disruptions with indigenous knowledge systems. The launch was graced by a rich and thought-provoking conversation, moderated by Sunshine Komusana, and steered by an inspiring panel of speakers whose oral stories serve as the first living books in the library. Among them were Sibongile Ndashe from South Africa, Grace Maroy from Congo, Reem Abbas from Sudan, Marie Rose Romain Murphy from Haiti, and Rosebell Kagumire from Uganda. Each of these remarkable women shared their experiences of participating in oral storytelling and reflected on the profound role that such narratives play in shaping movements and preserving histories. Omolara Oriye, co-dreamer of Liberation Alliance Africa, eloquently described the genesis of the Library of Perspectives, stating, “This work of Liberation is not something that just exists outside of us. It is something that should exist inside of us. It must begin with the interrogation of self and our colonial programming.” She further emphasized that knowledge is not something to be passively received but something deeply rooted in our ancestral wisdom, emotions, and lived experiences: “We are not just takers of knowledge. We possess ancestral knowledge, feelings, permutations, thoughts, and experiences that are uniquely ours.” These words rang true in the context of places like Sudan, where war has raged for over a year. Reem Abbas reflected on the deeper implications of this conflict, stating, “For many people, it’s a conflict between the military and the paramilitary, but it’s really also a conflict and an attack on the country’s identity.” She went on to describe how, as a result, “They have destroyed a lot of museums, documents, and local research centers—so much of the history that binds us has been looted and erased during this war.” In the face of such erasure, she emphasized the importance of oral storytelling as a means of survival and resistance: “We are really left with our history—our oral history, our understanding, the clothes we wear, the beliefs we hold, the songs we sing, and the poetry we cherish.” Her reflections underscored the urgency of archives like the Library of Perspectives, which serve as vessels for knowledge preservation in times of upheaval. The destruction of historical records is not just an attack on the past but a deliberate attempt to shape the future by erasing the voices and struggles of those who came before us. This makes oral storytelling an act of defiance and a crucial tool in safeguarding the truth. Among the speakers, Grace Maroy, who has been living and working in Congo amid ongoing conflict, highlighted the importance of being part of the Library of Perspectives. She underscored that while the world moves forward, Congolese women and girls continue to struggle for survival. She reminded us that storytelling should not be confined to times of struggle but must serve as a foundation for movements striving for justice and change. Rosebell Kagumire addressed the borderlessness of storytelling, emphasizing oral traditions as tools for dismantling artificially imposed colonial borders and fostering solidarity based on shared realities. She passionately urged us to resist the erasure of our histories by preserving our languages, which serve as granaries for our collective memory. “Our stories flow beyond borders, even when politics tries to keep us apart,” she said, adding, “To decolonize knowledge, we must first decolonize the way we tell our stories.” Sibongile Ndashe reinforced the idea that liberation narratives must be holistic. “Liberation isn’t just about hardship. We must also tell stories of joy, of love, of the ways we lift each other up,” she stated, reminding us that resistance is also about celebrating the resilience, triumphs, and shared humanity of women across different contexts. The Library of Perspectives was officially launched, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the preservation and amplification of women’s voices and histories. This archive stands as a beacon of resistance, a vessel for ancestral wisdom, and a space for storytelling that transcends time and borders. The Library is now accessible to all, inviting engagement, reflection, and participation in the continued work of liberation. Explore the all the human books and engage with the modules at The Library of Perspectives.

Alchemical Transmutations: Join the Sawaba Fellowship for Decolonial Feminist Transformation 

Leave a Comment / Uncategorized / By

Life-giving organising in this catastrophic era requires us to chart new world political and social maps – Mariame Kaba. Liberation Alliance Africa Collective introduces the Sawaba Fellowship — a space for thinkers, artists, practitioners, activists, and community organisers to come together and engage in deep reflection, discourse, and knowledge production on key issues in pursuing decolonial feminist futures. This fellowship invites us to sketch, doodle, and chant our dreams into existence, bringing life to new ways of thinking, being, and organising. Exploring the theme of Alchemical Transmutations, fellows are invited to unmask coloniality through liberation efforts and challenge its endurance across the dimensions of power, knowledge and being — deconstructing coloniality and repairing relational commitments, thoughts, behaviour, beliefs, and actions.   Alchemical Transmutations in this context concern the exploration of the abundant resources of African conceptual frameworks to critically reflect on all the fundamental aspects of decoloniality of the mind through the lens of exposition, framing, reframing and repair. The fellowship, through its theme, acknowledges that we are fighting against a violent white-Supremacist Capitalist Patriarchy, but we are not without the tools to resist. We hold the power, magic, and skillset to reclaim our lives from the indignities oppressive systems have imposed upon us.  Who  Can Apply? We seek passionate, innovative thinkers and creators eager to propose an original project that engages with and contributes to the ongoing fight for decolonial feminist futures.  Sawaba Fellows will receive a stipend of USD 500 per month to support their work, with the possibility of a two-month extension. The fellowship runs for three months, beginning with an in-person gathering in May 2025.  How to Apply To apply, click Sawaba Fellowship to read more about the fellowship theme and how to apply.  Applications are open until March 17th, 2025. Applicants will be notified of the selection results by March 28th, 2025. If you are deeply committed to decolonial feminist politics and anti-imperialist solidarity—or know someone who is—don’t miss this opportunity. Apply now, or share this call with someone who would love it! For any additional information, please contact us at hello@liberationalliance.cmostfrancisidimu.com.

An Invitation to Lock into Revolutionary Hope

Leave a Comment / Stories by Us & for Us / By

I recently read a poem that described hope as a feather that perches on the soul, sings a tune and never stops. Hope is a global phenomenon that enjoys many definitions and iterations, but what does it mean to lock into the radical, action-oriented, love-directed concept of revolutionary hope? To hope is to have agency, to be willing to live even though everything around us screams death. Hope is the ability to bravely build individual and collective futures on love, community, sacrifice and critical awareness.  Hope is the desire to ask critical questions of normative assumptions and refuse to merely adapt. It shows up as the intentional exploration and intellectual rigour outside knowledge systems that have robbed us of legitimacy. Hope is the rejection of knowledge hegemonies that require us to filter our lived experience through a white supremacist prism. Hope is the refusal to adapt to distorted notions of our identities and the radical action to build new embodied present and pluriversal worlds.  We’re in the middle of a vortex of pain with colonial violence and its resulting poly-crisis, the reinforcement of oligarchs through the bro-ligarchy and fascism’s loss of its very transparent veil. For people on the margins, keeping our eyes on what we know and our hearts on our dreams of liberation seems herculean. Critical consciousness requires us to see the world as an occurrence that can be read, re-read, built, and rebuilt. This task is worthy of our rigour, fervency, transparency, humility and curiosity. We must lock into the revolutionary hope that allows us to engage in non-reactionary world-building—bringing to life the imaginations of a new world that is critically aware of oppression and the need for liberation.  We must become familiar with but unafraid of dominant narratives sustained by the hegemonies of power, which create a distorted worldview and cause a separation between our minds and hearts. This separation is both cognitive and embodied and renders colonised peoples as pawns in global politics and power struggles — this misalignment is a gold mine, and we must deprive them of gold. So, how do we realign with our dreams of liberation in private and public spaces? How do we confront a world that requires docility from us? How do we survive in a world that harvests our despair to fuel the thirst for power? The simple answer is the practice of Revolutionary hope. Revolutionary hope calls us to acknowledge who and where we are in this world and how we fit into the collective. It requires a profound recognition that we cannot live as though our role is simply to adapt. Revolutionary hope is not the blind desire for what was; we must not be caught in the romanticisation of pre-colonial realities. We are invited to alchemise, to know what was, and to build a world that is. We must reject oppression Olympics and identity politics and recognise them for what they are: a wrench in our ability to express and receive solidarity. What is our political awareness and struggle worth if we cannot link arms?   This is a call to critical reflection, recognition and acknowledgement of what this world is, an invitation to meaning-seeking and sense-making, the cultivation and nurturing of care, community, the desire and labour for collective healing and the nourishment of our spirits as we sing our songs and perfect our dance.  Revolutionary hope is knowing that when our oppressors become versed in the songs of our movement, we must pivot and make new songs.  Written by Omolara Oriye, Co-dreamer, Liberation Alliance Africa

Scroll to Top