An Alternative Narrative for Africa

I have an alternative view on Africa and why there is hope for a better future—one where we are not always lamenting our current state of affairs, but instead looking forward with hope and grace. I want to offer a different narrative about African society and why we will eventually rid ourselves of our broken past, if you wish to put it that way.

Yes, we are bruised, hurt, and humiliated. Our traditional way of life no longer serves us, and now we are playing catch-up, trying to adopt a culture that can survive in the modern world—a world led by progress, capital, technology, and governance. We had our own way of thinking about things. The land always provided, the weather was favourable, and we did not need to specialise to survive.

In this new world, we must adapt. The land does not provide if you do not cultivate it using modern means. The weather keeps changing. Our populations have grown beyond the hunter-gatherer threshold. What took Europeans and other cultures millennia to learn, we have to learn in a far shorter timespan.

But why should we learn? Because with every passing day, we are being left behind. Sure, we are making strides, but they will not be enough for where we are going. We must always think about how we can keep getting better. We must not settle as we did before. Before, we had everything and did not need to improve. Now we know better. Those who settle will eventually be conquered by those who constantly improve. We must do this whether we like it or not.

The question, then, is simple: How do we make Africa great?

I agree with many of the existing sentiments, and they all boil down to five pillars:

1. Agriculture

2. Mining

3. Education

4. Manufacturing

5. Government policy as the umbrella

Agriculture

Let us start with agriculture. In my essay The Problem with Agriculture in Africa, I argue that the main issue in this industry is our over-fixation on smallholder farmers. All great civilisations had a small group of people who specialised in farming professionally as commercial farmers. These farmers controlled larger tracts of land, employed more people, produced more crops, and freed up the rest of the population to work in logistics, record-keeping, finance, agro-processing, and retail.

When smallholders make up the majority of the population, their combined intelligence is wasted on working the plough, waiting for seasons, searching for markets, and negotiating prices. These pressures are immense and become even worse when most people lack the skills to manage them. Productivity remains low, land is underutilised, post-harvest losses are massive, and everyone is worse off. That is why we end up importing food.

Commercial farming also leads to infrastructure, because successful farmers demand it from their governments. This is why pre-colonial Kenya was once a net exporter of food, while today we are net importers. The reality is that it is far easier for a small group of successful commercial farmers to lobby for roads, storage, rail, and irrigation than it is for millions of struggling subsistence farmers to do the same.

We have tried to bridge this gap through cooperatives, hoping to unify farmers’ voices, but this has proven inefficient. It is not there yet, and I do not believe it is enough.

We need more well-educated farmers with large tracts of land feeding the nation. This is non-negotiable. Anyone who argues otherwise is either not a student of history or is benefiting from the status quo.

Mining

It is no secret that Africa is rich in natural resources. The richest man in history, Mansa Musa of the ancient Mali Empire, had so much gold that he crashed the Egyptian economy for decades. Today, we have oil in Nigeria and Angola, uranium, cobalt, and coltan in the Congo, gold in South Sudan and South Africa, and titanium, soda ash, and rare earth minerals in Kenya.

We are rich—but our wealth lies beneath our feet.

We rely on foreign companies with their machines, expertise, and capital to mine our land. We lease our own resources, watch them be processed elsewhere, and then buy them back at a premium. We have failed to learn how to extract and refine these materials ourselves so they can feed our own industries.

We need state-funded and state-sanctioned mining. Just as China did with its rare earth minerals, we must remove the pointless guardrails that prevent people from entering this industry. It must be easier to start mining companies, acquire licenses, and begin extraction. But extraction alone is not enough—we must refine these minerals locally to capture real value.

Once refined materials are available, manufacturers should be encouraged to set up locally, accessing inputs at competitive rates and producing goods here. Mining must become a national priority, defended by the state. Private enterprise cannot be allowed to gatekeep the wealth beneath our feet.

Like Norway, between 30% and 50% of mining proceeds should flow into a sovereign wealth fund. This money must not be used for recurrent expenditure or tax relief. It belongs to the people and must be invested in infrastructure—roads, railways, ports, power grids—and diversified global investments that preserve long-term wealth.

Education

Without an educated population, a nation is destined for poverty. This cannot be overstated.

To run a commercial farm, one must understand crop science, seed varieties, fertiliser use, irrigation, disease control, and pest management. One must also understand economics: cost per kilogram, pricing, margins, savings, and capital investments like machinery. Business development matters too—finding buyers, negotiating contracts, marketing produce, and managing relationships.

Even for the educated, this is a lot to juggle. Expecting uneducated or unskilled individuals to succeed at this level is to expect miracles. That is why success stories are rare—they are exceptions, not the rule.

Education must therefore be prioritised, with a strong focus on hard skills. Not just computing, but agriculture, mining, manufacturing, and industrial processes. These subjects must be taught by active professionals and seasoned experts who understand modern industry realities.

Students should be attached directly to companies upon graduation. In fact, companies should be required to sponsor these programmes. When firms fund education, they naturally design curricula that serve both their needs and the nation’s interests. Farming programmes can be funded by successful commercial farmers themselves, producing skilled workers to run their operations. This benefits everyone.

Manufacturing

Every developed nation industrialised. This is an uncomfortable truth many prefer to ignore.

Industrialisation turns countries into competitors for resources, driving up global prices. Since Africa controls many raw materials, industrialisation would allow us to charge premiums. This is not in the interest of existing industrial powers, which is why restrictive laws, cheap imports, and weak tariffs are imposed on developing nations.

We must brute-force our way through this reality.

Factories must be built. Tariffs must be imposed. Special economic zones must be expanded. Kenya has started down this path, but it is not enough. Initially, foreign companies will lead due to capital and expertise, but local firms must be funded through sovereign wealth funds, banks, and private investors.

The strategy is simple: impose tariffs, invite manufacturers to build locally, and position Kenya as the industrial hub for the East African Community—a market of nearly 300 million people.

This will create jobs, grow exports, and strengthen our currency.

Government Policy as the Umbrella

None of this is possible without leadership and governance. But instead of repeating transparency clichés, we must focus on incentives.

At the core of Africa’s challenge is a mindset shaped by uncertainty. We think short-term because tomorrow has never been guaranteed. Traditionally, we lived in cycles, not linear progressions. The future was not something to plan for—it simply repeated itself. That mindset no longer works.

We need new stories—stories that promote long-term thinking, optimism, and wonder. This means curating media and stories that promote progress in the nation and not just negativity. This doesn't mean accepting criticism. It means fighting it with positive stories that shine brighter.

But storytelling alone is not enough. Execution must be ruthless. KPIs must be met. Professionalism must be enforced. Corruption must be punished. Government work must become a calling, not a refuge.

I would cut the government workforce to a third and double their salaries. Then I would place them under intense performance pressure and recruit the best minds—people who could thrive in private industry. When people are busy building, they have no time to steal.

Government should be prestigious again. Hard. Demanding. Respected. If strikes occur, fire everyone and rebuild. Let the nation halt if necessary. Rotten systems must be torn down to be rebuilt properly.

The formula is simple: tell bold, forward-looking stories and execute with ruthlessness—even if it means being hated. This is what Lee Yuan Yew did for Singapore and it was effective. Many politicians like our current president quote him, but I doubt if they have even read his book, Third World to First. Even worse, I doubt if they even understand the underlying principles that guided him and make his success possible. They just regurgitate but they have learnt nothing.

Conclusion

Africa can learn a new way of life. We must. Developing a new culture will take time—perhaps 100 to 200 years—but this is the pressure cooker we must endure.

Just 150 years ago, we lived as small tribes in the savannah, farming, herding, and enjoying cyclical life. Today, we are building nations of entrepreneurs, professionals, and institutions. We are flawed, short-sighted, and often self-interested, but this is a consequence of distrust and survival instincts.

The problem is also the solution. Good people can replace bad actors. Other civilisations did it—why can’t we?

We are late bloomers. We lived in comfort for too long, and now the bill has come due. The good old days are gone. Clinging to the past is pointless. We must build a new past—one future generation will be proud of.

Unlike the Aborigines of Australia or Native Americans, we remain the majority on our own continent. That alone is remarkable. We survived. We resisted. We endured. We are now free to choose our path.

We cannot carry everything from the past, but we can carry what matters. The world is our oyster—if only we choose to believe it, together.