Read the English version here.

Cette année, Open Society Foundations, aux côtés du Haut-Commissariat des Nations unies aux droits de l’homme, de la Commission africaine des droits de l’homme et des peuples, du Réseau des institutions nationales africaines des droits de l’homme et d’autres partenaires, a engagé une série de conversations régionales pour aborder cette question sans détour. Après les rencontres consacrées à l’Afrique australe et à l’Afrique de l’Est, le dialogue pour l’Afrique de l’Ouest et l’Afrique centrale se tient à Cotonou, au Bénin, du 10 au 12 novembre 2026. L’ambition est de contribuer à une feuille de route pour une architecture africaine des droits humains adaptée aux défis de l’avenir.

Je suis à Cotonou, au Bénin, pour prendre part à cette conversation qui me paraît à la fois urgente et profondément personnelle : « Réimaginer l’avenir des droits humains en Afrique ». Que faudra-t-il pour que les droits humains et la dignité restent au cœur de l’avenir de l’Afrique ?

Le programme s’articule autour de quatre questions liées entre elles : la gouvernance démocratique, le constitutionnalisme et l’espace civique ; la paix, la sécurité et les droits humains ; les économies fondées sur les droits humains, le climat et la gouvernance des ressources naturelles ; et les institutions régionales et les partenariats nécessaires pour rendre la protection effective. La technologie, l’égalité de genre, le leadership des jeunes et l’inclusion traversent l’ensemble de ces discussions.

Nous devons aborder cet exercice en acceptant de remettre en question nos propres certitudes. Nos institutions ont-elles suivi l’évolution des pouvoirs politiques et économiques ? Les populations reconnaissent-elles leurs difficultés quotidiennes dans le langage que nous employons ? Les personnes dont les droits sont bafoués peuvent-elles accéder aux mécanismes créés pour les protéger ? Et lorsqu’elles y parviennent, quelque chose change-t-il réellement ?

Ces questions m’accompagnent depuis une grande partie de ma vie professionnelle. Très jeune, j’ai été élu par le Parlement togolais pour siéger à la Commission nationale des droits de l’homme, dont je suis devenu le plus jeune commissaire. J’ai également animé, pendant quatre ans, des émissions d’éducation aux droits humains sur la radio nationale, Radio-Lomé. Ces expériences continuent de guider ma réflexion : les institutions ont besoin d’indépendance et d’autorité, et les citoyens doivent connaître suffisamment leurs droits pour pouvoir les revendiquer.

Un droit inscrit dans un texte juridique, mais inconnu de son titulaire, a encore beaucoup de chemin à parcourir avant de devenir une protection réelle.

Pourquoi cette conversation ne peut pas attendre

Le mouvement africain des droits humains a des acquis qui méritent d’être défendus. Les luttes de libération, les mobilisations des femmes, le journalisme indépendant, les actions en justice dans l’intérêt général et les résistances communautaires ont contribué à bâtir un vaste ensemble de droits et d’institutions. En reconnaissant à la fois les droits individuels et les droits des peuples, la Charte africaine offre une base solide pour penser ensemble la liberté, le bien-être collectif et le développement.

Pourtant, ces fondements sont sous pression. Les conflits, les restrictions de l’espace civique, l’exclusion économique et les offensives organisées contre l’égalité mettent à l’épreuve la crédibilité des engagements en matière de droits humains. Les mutations technologiques redistribuent le pouvoir plus vite que nombre de mécanismes de contrôle ne peuvent s’adapter. Les institutions internationales connaissent leurs propres crises de confiance, aggravées par l’application sélective de principes censés être universels.

L’état de l’opinion publique mérite toute notre attention. Une analyse publiée par Afrobarometer en septembre 2026, à partir d’enquêtes menées dans 38 pays en 2024-2025, révèle que 64 % des personnes interrogées préféraient la démocratie, mais que seulement 38 % étaient satisfaites de son fonctionnement dans leur pays. Le soutien à la démocratie et le rejet des régimes autoritaires s’étaient également affaiblis au cours de la décennie précédente. Ces résultats concernent les pays étudiés et ne constituent pas un recensement de l’ensemble du continent. Ils révèlent néanmoins une sérieuse fragilisation de la confiance dans la démocratie.

Nous ne pouvons pas tenir pour acquis que les populations continueront à défendre des institutions dont elles voient rarement les promesses se concrétiser. Leur frustration à l’égard de ces institutions ne saurait non plus être interprétée comme un consentement à la répression.

Pour un jeune confronté au chômage, une femme privée de justice après avoir subi des violences ou une communauté déplacée par l’exploitation minière, la crédibilité des droits humains dépend de leur capacité à offrir une voie concrète vers le changement. La liberté d’expression compte pour celui qui dénonce le détournement d’un budget de santé. L’accès à l’information compte pour la communauté qui conteste une concession foncière. La justice économique et les libertés civiques doivent être au cœur d’une même conversation.

Notre rencontre consacrée à l’Afrique australe, à Gaborone, a clairement établi ce lien. Elle a souligné la nécessité de mobiliser les importantes ressources institutionnelles de la région pour renforcer la coordination, l’appropriation par les communautés et la prévention, et de rendre les droits tangibles à travers l’accès aux services essentiels, à des moyens de subsistance et à un environnement sain.

Les discussions en Afrique de l’Est ont ajouté un appel à ce que les Africains prennent en main la construction de leur avenir, au leadership des jeunes, à l’éducation politique et au renforcement durable des mouvements citoyens. Notre synthèse finale a également appelé à des financements portés par des acteurs africains, à une meilleure coordination institutionnelle et à un suivi mesurable. Elle a aussi posé la question de savoir si les systèmes existants étaient réellement en mesure de répondre à l’intelligence artificielle, aux dérèglements climatiques et à la répression transnationale.

Ce sont des points de départ utiles. Notre programme fait une place aux communicateurs traditionnels, aux savoirs oraux et à l’expression culturelle. Cela devrait permettre de contester l’idée selon laquelle la dignité et la redevabilité seraient étrangères à l’Afrique. Mais nous devons examiner honnêtement nos traditions, en puisant dans leurs ressources de solidarité tout en remettant en cause les pratiques qui excluent les femmes, les jeunes ou les minorités. La légitimité historique ne peut justifier les discriminations d’aujourd’hui.

La sécurité et les politiques économiques doivent être au centre des discussions

Le programme de Cotonou interroge la manière d’intégrer pleinement les droits humains dans les politiques de sécurité, l’alerte précoce et la justice transitionnelle. Il aborde également les déplacements de population, les migrations forcées et les expulsions vers des pays tiers. Ces choix sont importants dans une région où la protection doit pouvoir s’exercer au-delà des frontières et résister aux périodes de conflit ou de rupture politique.

Nous devons rejeter l’idée selon laquelle le respect des droits peut attendre le rétablissement de la sécurité. Les réponses sécuritaires qui portent atteinte aux populations civiles risquent d’aggraver la défiance dont se nourrissent les acteurs armés. Les alertes émanant des communautés doivent déclencher une action avant que la violence ne s’intensifie, avec des responsabilités clairement établies pour évaluer ces alertes et y répondre. Les opérations militaires et policières doivent faire l’objet d’un contrôle indépendant, de mécanismes de plainte accessibles et d’enquêtes crédibles sur les abus.

Les personnes déplacées par les conflits, les réfugiés, les migrants et les apatrides doivent rester au cœur de cette discussion en tant que titulaires de droits. La coopération en matière migratoire doit être évaluée à l’aune des obligations de protection, notamment des garanties contre le renvoi vers des situations de persécution ou de risque de préjudice grave. Les désaccords politiques régionaux ne doivent pas devenir un prétexte pour abandonner des personnes dont la sécurité dépend d’une assistance transfrontalière.

Les décisions économiques méritent le même examen. Le programme établit explicitement un lien entre les droits humains, la fiscalité, la gestion de la dette, les marges de manœuvre budgétaires, la corruption et les flux financiers illicites. Il pose la question d’un partage plus équitable des bénéfices de l’extraction des ressources naturelles avec les communautés, ainsi que celle de la protection d’écosystèmes essentiels comme le bassin du Congo.

Une économie fondée sur les droits humains doit modifier les questions que nous posons avant de prendre des décisions. Qui supporte une hausse d’impôt ? Que devient l’accès aux soins lorsque le service de la dette comprime le budget ? Un accord minier crée-t-il des emplois décents et permet-il de conserver davantage de valeur sur place ? Les communautés concernées peuvent-elles en influencer les termes et obtenir réparation ? Les peuples autochtones et les communautés qui dépendent des forêts participent-ils aux décisions relatives à la conservation ?

Pour OSF et ses partenaires, c’est l’occasion de rapprocher davantage le plaidoyer pour les droits humains des travaux sur le financement du développement, les minerais critiques et la transformation économique. Les ministères des Finances, les négociateurs de la dette, les organes de contrôle des finances publiques et les banques de développement ont leur place dans ces conversations. Les organisations de défense des droits doivent disposer de l’expertise nécessaire pour contester les choix économiques sur la base de données probantes, tandis que les organisations communautaires doivent avoir accès aux informations qui rendent leur participation possible.

Les institutions doivent être jugées à l’aune de la protection qu’elles assurent

Nous devons éviter de conclure, de manière générale, à l’échec des institutions africaines des droits humains. Leurs mandats, leur indépendance, leurs ressources et leurs résultats diffèrent. La Commission africaine a élaboré des normes et mis au jour des violations ; la Cour africaine a rendu des arrêts qui ont fait progresser la protection. Les institutions nationales et la société civile ont ouvert des voies pour demander des comptes dans des conditions difficiles.

La question la plus dérangeante est de savoir pourquoi ces avancées coexistent avec un accès aussi restreint aux mécanismes de protection et des défaillances persistantes dans leur mise en œuvre.

Seuls 34 des 55 États membres de l’Union africaine avaient ratifié le protocole portant création de la Cour africaine, et seuls sept permettaient alors aux particuliers et aux ONG remplissant les conditions requises de la saisir directement. Cinq États avaient retiré leur déclaration autorisant cet accès. La promesse de la Cour est continentale ; son accès direct demeure extrêmement limité.

Nous avons trop souvent considéré la création d’une institution, l’adoption d’une résolution ou le prononcé d’un jugement comme l’aboutissement du travail. Pour la personne qui cherche une protection, ce n’est parfois que le commencement. La mise en œuvre exige une pression politique, des ressources publiques, un accompagnement juridique et un suivi constant.

La responsabilité incombe d’abord aux États. Les gouvernements doivent prévenir les violations, enquêter sur les abus et garantir des recours. Les instances régionales et internationales ne peuvent pas compenser indéfiniment le refus des autorités nationales de remplir leurs obligations. De même, l’insuffisance des financements n’explique pas tous les échecs : les ingérences politiques, les condamnations sélectives et la réticence à affronter les acteurs puissants doivent aussi être examinées.

Notre répartition des rôles doit devenir plus claire. Les institutions nationales indépendantes des droits humains doivent exercer un contrôle accessible aux populations, enquêter dans le cadre de leurs mandats, surveiller les lieux de détention et suivre la mise en œuvre des recommandations au niveau national. Elles ont besoin de procédures de nomination transparentes, de financements garantis et de la liberté de mettre l’État face à ses responsabilités. Elles ne doivent jamais se substituer aux juridictions indépendantes ou à la société civile.

Le rôle de la société civile est de mobiliser, de documenter, d’agir en justice et d’exiger des comptes de ceux qui exercent le pouvoir, y compris au sein des institutions des droits humains. Les mécanismes régionaux doivent s’attaquer aux dynamiques transfrontalières, offrir des voies de recours au-delà des systèmes nationaux dont l’indépendance est compromise et donner à leurs conclusions un prolongement politique durable. Les recommandations de la Commission africaine et les arrêts contraignants de la Cour africaine appellent des stratégies de suivi différentes. Les instances des Nations unies doivent renforcer ces efforts à travers leurs mandats, leur expertise et le contrôle international qu’elles exercent. La CEDEAO et la CEEAC doivent participer à cette coordination, selon des approches adaptées à leurs compétences et à leurs capacités institutionnelles respectives ; le caractère régional d’un mécanisme ne garantit pas, à lui seul, un recours effectif.

La coordination doit rendre ce système plus facile à comprendre et à utiliser. Une personne ayant subi des violations ne devrait pas avoir à maîtriser l’ensemble du paysage institutionnel avant de trouver de l’aide. Nous avons besoin de dispositifs d’orientation respectant les règles de chaque mécanisme, d’un accès à l’assistance juridique et de responsabilités claires pour assurer le suivi des dossiers. Le partage d’informations doit préserver la confidentialité et ne jamais ouvrir une nouvelle voie permettant d’identifier et de cibler les défenseurs.

La protection des défenseurs doit être un critère essentiel

J’ai récemment visité le refuge Karibu à Dakar, où j’ai rencontré des militants contraints de fuir leur pays. Nous avons échangé sur les mécanismes régionaux des droits humains auxquels ils peuvent recourir. Cette rencontre a fait ressortir une question très concrète : que signifie l’accès à un mécanisme pour une personne qui a besoin de sécurité immédiatement, alors qu’une procédure juridique peut durer des années ?

Expliquer les voies disponibles est nécessaire. Il faut aussi veiller à ce que les défenseurs disposent d’un lieu sûr où dormir, d’un statut légal dans leur pays d’accueil, de soins, de moyens de communication sécurisés et des ressources nécessaires pour poursuivre leur travail. La protection doit s’étendre aux familles et aux collègues exposés aux représailles. L’exil ne doit pas entraîner la disparition de leur voix dans la lutte qu’ils ont contribué à construire.

Les risques sont considérables. Dans son Analyse globale 2025/26, Front Line Defenders fait état d’au moins 357 défenseurs des droits humains tués dans 27 pays en 2025. Il s’agit d’un minimum documenté à l’échelle mondiale, et non d’un bilan propre à l’Afrique. Le même rapport décrit des arrestations, des menaces, du harcèlement judiciaire et des attaques numériques visant les défenseurs.

Une réponse africaine efficace doit relier l’aide d’urgence à une protection à plus long terme. Les gouvernements disposés à offrir un refuge, les structures d’accueil, les barreaux, les institutions nationales, les mécanismes régionaux et les bailleurs doivent établir des dispositifs fiables de relocalisation, d’accompagnement juridique et de poursuite des activités militantes. Ces réponses doivent tenir compte des risques particuliers auxquels sont confrontés les défenseuses des droits humains, les militants LGBTIQ+, les acteurs des mobilisations rurales et ceux qui documentent les conflits ou s’opposent à de puissants intérêts économiques.

Nous devons aussi nous demander qui reste en dehors de nos réseaux habituels. Un journaliste communautaire, une personne mobilisée dans un quartier informel ou une femme défendant l’accès à la terre peuvent mener un travail de défense des droits humains sans le désigner ainsi. Les dispositifs de protection doivent reconnaître ce travail et les dangers auxquels il expose, plutôt que dépendre de la visibilité d’une organisation ou de sa capacité à remplir un dossier de demande de financement.

En route vers Gaborone, notre rencontre continentale

La conversation de Cotonou s’inscrit dans un cheminement plus large. À la suite de ces discussions régionales, nous nous retrouverons à Gaborone, au Botswana, pour une conversation continentale réunissant les expériences, les idées et les propositions qui émergent de toute l’Afrique. Notre ambition est d’élaborer une feuille de route continentale que les décideurs pourront mettre en œuvre, ancrée dans les réalités vécues par les populations et précisant ce qui doit changer, qui doit agir et comment mesurer les progrès.

Nous entendons porter cette feuille de route dans les prochaines rencontres des institutions des droits humains, les réunions ministérielles de l’Union africaine et le Sommet de l’UA, en saisissant chaque occasion de transformer la réflexion collective en engagement politique et en action concrète. Les voix entendues tout au long de ce processus doivent porter au-delà de nos salles de réunion et atteindre les lieux où se prennent les décisions qui affectent la vie des populations.

Restez à l’écoute sur cette plateforme : j’y partagerai de nouvelles réflexions, les prochaines étapes et les possibilités de contribuer. La conversation se poursuit, tout comme notre responsabilité de lui donner une portée réelle.

Sur cette page, j’écris sur les politiques publiques, la vie politique et les institutions africaines. Si vous souhaitez recevoir automatiquement mes articles dès leur publication, abonnez-vous simplement à ce blog en cliquant sur le bouton « Follow » en bas à gauche de la page, ou écrivez-moi à Desire.Assogbavi@Assodesire.com.

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This year, Open Society Foundations, together with the UN Human Rights Office, the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, the Network of African National Human Rights Institutions and other partners, embarked on a series of regional conversations to confront that question honestly. Following convenings in Southern and Eastern Africa, the West and Central Africa dialogue takes place in Cotonou, Benin on 10-12 November 2026. The ambition is to contribute to the Roadmap for a Future-Fit African Human Rights Architecture.

I am in Cotonou, Benin, taking part in this conversation that feels both urgent and deeply personal: “Reimagining the Future of Human Rights in Africa”. What will it take to ensure that human rights and dignity remain at the center of Africa’s future?

The program brings four connected questions into focus: democratic governance, constitutionalism and civic space; peace, security and human rights; human rights economies, climate and natural resource governance; and the regional institutions and partnerships needed to make protection effective. Technology, gender equality, youth leadership and inclusion run across these discussions.

We should approach this exercise with a willingness to examine our own assumptions. Have our institutions kept pace with changes in political and economic power? Do people recognize their everyday struggles in the language we use? Can those whose rights are violated reach the mechanisms established to protect them? And when they do, does anything change?

These questions have accompanied much of my working life. At a young age, I was elected by Togo’s Parliament to serve on the National Human Rights Commission, becoming its youngest commissioner. I also spent four years hosting human rights education programs on the national broadcaster, Radio-Lomé. Those moments remain a reference point for how I think about this work: institutions need independence and authority, and people need to understand their rights well enough to claim them.

A right that exists in a legal text but remains unknown to its holder has a long way to travel before it becomes protection.

Why this conversation cannot wait

Africa’s human rights movement has achievements worth defending. Liberation struggles, women’s organizing, independent journalism, public-interest litigation and community resistance have helped build an extensive body of rights and institutions. The African Charter’s recognition of individual and peoples’ rights offers a powerful foundation for addressing freedom, collective wellbeing and development together.

Yet that foundation is under pressure. Conflict, restrictions on civic space, economic exclusion and organized opposition to equality are testing the credibility of rights commitments. Technological change is redistributing power faster than many accountability systems can respond. International institutions face their own crises of confidence, aggravated by the selective application of principles that are supposed to be universal.

The public mood deserves careful attention. Afrobarometer’s September 2026 analysis of surveys conducted in 38 countries in 2024-2025 found that 64% of respondents preferred democracy, while only 38% were satisfied with how it worked in their country. Support for democracy and rejection of authoritarian alternatives had also weakened over the preceding decade. These are findings from surveyed countries, rather than a census of the continent, but they reveal a serious challenge to democratic confidence.

We cannot assume that people will continue to defend institutions whose promises they rarely experience. Nor should frustration with those institutions be treated as consent to repression.

For a young person facing unemployment, a woman denied justice after violence, or a community displaced by mining, the credibility of human rights depends on whether they offer a usable route to change. Freedom of expression matters to the person exposing a stolen health budget. Access to information matters to the community questioning a land concession. Economic justice and civic freedom belong in the same conversation.

Our Southern Africa convening in Gaborone made that connection explicit highlighting the need to translate the region’s considerable institutional assets into stronger coordination, community ownership and prevention, and to make rights tangible through access to essential services, livelihoods and a healthy environment.

The Eastern Africa discussions added a call for African ownership of future-making, youth leadership, political education and sustained movement-building. Our closing account also called for African-led financing, better institutional coordination and measurable follow-up, while questioning whether existing systems can respond adequately to artificial intelligence, climate disruption and transnational repression.

These are useful starting points. Our agenda creates room for traditional communicators, oral knowledge and cultural expression. That should help challenge the claim that dignity and accountability are foreign to Africa. But we must examine our traditions honestly, drawing on their resources for solidarity while confronting practices that exclude women, younger people or minorities. Historical legitimacy cannot excuse present-day discrimination.

Security and economic policy belong at the center

The Cotonou agenda asks how human rights can become integral to security, early warning and transitional justice. It also includes displacement, forced migration and third-country deportations. These choices matter in a region where protection must work across borders and through periods of conflict or political rupture.

We should reject the assumption that respect for rights can wait until security has been restored. Security responses that abuse civilians risk deepening the mistrust on which armed actors feed. Community reporting should lead to action before violence escalates, with clear responsibility for assessing warnings and responding to them. Military and police operations need independent scrutiny, accessible complaints and credible investigation of abuses.

People displaced by conflict, refugees, migrants and stateless people must remain part of this discussion as rights holders. Cooperation on migration should be assessed against protection obligations, including safeguards against return to persecution or serious harm. Regional political disagreements must not become an excuse to abandon people whose safety depends on cross-border assistance.

Economic decisions deserve the same scrutiny. The program explicitly connects human rights to taxation, debt management, fiscal space, corruption and illicit financial flows. It asks how natural resource extraction can generate fairer benefits for communities and how environmental policy can protect critical ecosystems such as the Congo Basin.

A human rights economy should change the questions asked before decisions are made. Who bears a tax increase? What happens to access to healthcare when debt service squeezes a budget? Does a mining agreement create decent work and retain value locally? Can affected communities influence its terms and obtain remedy? Are Indigenous peoples and forest-dependent communities shaping conservation decisions?

For OSF and its partners, this is an opportunity to connect human rights advocacy more closely with work on development finance, critical minerals and economic transformation. Finance ministries, debt negotiators, public auditors and development banks belong in these conversations. Rights organizations need the expertise to challenge economic choices with evidence, while community organizations need access to the information that makes participation possible.

Institutions must be judged by the protection they deliver

We should avoid a sweeping verdict that African human rights institutions have failed. Their mandates, independence, resources and records differ. The African Commission has developed standards and exposed violations; the African Court has delivered judgments advancing protection. National institutions and civil society have created avenues for accountability under difficult conditions.

The more uncomfortable question is why these achievements coexist with such restricted access and persistent failures of implementation.

Only 34 of the African Union’s 55 member states had ratified the protocol establishing the African Court, and only seven then allowed direct applications by individuals and eligible NGOs. Five states had withdrawn their declarations permitting that access. The Court’s promise is continental; direct access remains severely limited.

We have too often treated the creation of an institution, the adoption of a resolution or the delivery of a judgment as the end of the work. For the person seeking protection, these may be only the beginning. Implementation requires political pressure, public resources, legal support and persistent follow-up.

Responsibility rests first with states. Governments must prevent violations, investigate abuses and provide remedies. Regional and international bodies cannot compensate indefinitely for national authorities that refuse to fulfil their obligations. Equally, inadequate funding does not explain every failure: political interference, selective condemnation and reluctance to confront powerful actors also require scrutiny.

Our division of labor needs to become clearer. Independent national human rights institutions should provide accessible scrutiny, investigate within their mandates, monitor places of detention and track the domestic implementation of recommendations. They need transparent appointments, secure funding and freedom to challenge the state. They should never become substitutes for independent courts or civil society.

Civil society’s role is to organize, document, litigate and hold power accountable, including the power exercised by human rights institutions themselves. Regional mechanisms should address cross-border patterns, offer avenues beyond compromised national systems and connect their findings to sustained political engagement. The African Commission’s recommendations and the African Court’s binding judgments require different follow-up strategies. UN bodies should reinforce these efforts through their own mandates, expertise and international scrutiny. ECOWAS and ECCAS should be part of this coordination, with approaches adapted to their different powers and institutional capacities; a regional label alone does not guarantee an effective remedy.

Coordination should make this system easier to navigate. A survivor should not have to understand the entire institutional landscape before finding help. We need referral arrangements that respect each mechanism’s rules, access to legal assistance, and clear responsibility for following a case through. Shared information must protect confidentiality and never create another route through which defenders can be identified and targeted.

Protecting defenders must be a central test

Recently, I visited the Karibu shelter in Dakar and met activists who had been forced to flee their countries. We discussed regional human rights mechanisms available to them. The encounter brought a practical question into sharp focus: what does access to a mechanism mean for someone who needs safety now, while a legal process may take years?

Explaining available avenues matters. So does ensuring that defenders have somewhere safe to sleep, legal status in a host country, healthcare, secure communications and the means to keep working. Protection must extend to families and colleagues exposed to retaliation. Exile should not mean the disappearance of a person’s voice from the struggle they helped build.

The risks are stark. Front Line Defenders’ Global Analysis 2025/26 reported at least 357 human rights defenders killed in 27 countries during 2025. This is a documented global minimum, not an Africa-specific total. The same report described arrests, threats, legal harassment and digital attacks against defenders.

An effective African response should connect emergency assistance with longer-term protection. Governments willing to offer refuge, shelters, bar associations, national institutions, regional mechanisms and funders should establish dependable arrangements for relocation, legal support and continued organizing. Responses must account for the different risks faced by women defenders, LGBTIQ+ activists, rural organizers and those documenting conflict or challenging powerful commercial interests.

We must also ask who remains outside our usual networks. A community journalist, an informal settlement organizer or a woman defending access to land may be doing human rights work without using that description. Protection systems should recognize the work and the danger, rather than depend on an organization’s visibility or its ability to complete a donor application.

The Road to Gaborone, our continental convening

The conversation in Cotonou is part of a larger journey. Following these regional discussions, we will gather in Gaborone, Botswana, for a continental conversation, bringing together the experiences, ideas and proposals emerging from across Africa. Our ambition is to shape a continental roadmap that policymakers can act on, grounded in people lived realities and clear about what must change, who must act and how progress should be measured.

We intend to carry that roadmap into upcoming gatherings of human rights institutions, African Union ministerial meetings and the AU Summit, using every opportunity to turn collective reflection into political commitment and practical action. The voices heard throughout this process must travel beyond our meeting rooms and reach the places where decisions affecting people’s lives are made.

Stay tuned to this platform as I share further reflections, updates and opportunities to contribute. The conversation continues, and so does our responsibility to make it count.

On this page, I write on African policy, politics and institutions. If you’d like to receive my articles automatically as soon as they’re published, simply follow this blog using the “Follow” button at the bottom left of the page or send me an email at Desire.Assogbavi@Assodesire.com.

Empty Chairs in Luanda, Full Rooms in Moscow

I have sat through more African Union summits than I can count. I have waited in the summit corridors for presidents who never came and listened to ministers or ambassadors read speeches written for their heads of state. So, when the photographs from Moscow came through last week, African leaders filing one after another into the Kremlin, I wasn’t surprised. I was tired. Then I did the arithmetic.

Only 6 heads of state went to AU Extraordinary Summit in Luanda on 30 August 2026 to talk about how Africa stops its wars. 22 went to Moscow last week to talk about a new Russia-Africa action plan for 2027-2029, discuss geopolitics, negotiate grains, fertilizers, miming, nuclear power and other individual national contracts… We should be honest about what that gap says.

The Luanda Summit was not a routine meeting. It was the 21st Extraordinary AU Summit, convened under Assembly decision 949 of February 2026, and Angola’s own diplomats described it as the first extraordinary summit of heads of state devoted to conflict prevention since the AU was founded. Its agenda was the Luanda Plan of Action, the Continental Early Warning System and the African Peace Fund. In other words, the machinery that is supposed to keep our people alive

Eight weeks later, 48 African delegations went to the third Russia-Africa Summit in Moscow (28-29 October), 22 of them led by heads of state. That is five more than the 17 who went to St Petersburg in 2023. The summit was co-chaired by President Putin and the AU Chairperson, Burundi’s Évariste Ndayishimiye.

Inside the Moscow Summit

The summit closed on 29 October with three documents adopted: a summit declaration, a declaration on civilian uses of artificial intelligence, and a Russia-Africa action plan for 2027-2029. The Kremlin says about 150 documents were signed on the sidelines, 53 of them between governments or ministries. Rosatom signed nuclear cooperation agreements with Rwanda, Togo and Uganda. Russia and South Sudan, a country still at war with itself, signed a military cooperation agreement. In Ghana, Rusal agreed joint ventures for bauxite mining of up to 5 million tonnes a year and an alumina refinery, with Rusal holding the majority stakes.

The declaration itself is worth reading closely. It backs a “more multipolar world order”, greater African representation on the UN Security Council, and it opposes “unilateral coercive measures and the unlawful seizure of sovereign assets”. It also proposes a permanent high-level Russia-Africa dialogue on counterterrorism, food security and information security.

This is what troubles me. Eight weeks after only 6 heads of state adopted the Luanda Plan of Action, more than three times as many endorsed, in Moscow, a text that describes the world order and creates a standing mechanism on Africa’s security. The continental position we still haven’t written at home has, in effect, been drafted with someone else holding the pen.

The question about delivery. Most of the nuclear items are memoranda, working groups and talks, not contracts. Russia has signed nuclear cooperation agreements with at least 15 African states, and none has yet become a completed project. Trade reached about USD 27 billion in 2025, still well short of the USD 40 billion target set at Sochi in 2019. And some things never made it onto the official page. The recruitment of Africans to fight in Ukraine, which investigative journalists say had cost 502 African lives by June, went unmentioned in the summit’s outcomes. So did the conflicts that brought only six presidents to Luanda.

I have nothing against African leaders engaging Moscow, Washington, Beijing, Brussels, Paris or Ankara. Partnerships matter. But for years many of us have asked our leaders to hold exactly this strategic conversation at home first: to define our collective interests and agree how the continent should move through a world that is being rearranged. That conversation still hasn’t happened. And the numbers below show what its absence is costing us.

Our house is on fire

Africa is now the world’s main theatre of armed conflict, by almost any measure. The numbers are not ambiguous. In 2025, Africa recorded 29 state-based armed conflicts, more than any other region and the highest number since 2020. It also accounted for 34 of the world’s 75 non-state conflicts, 14 of them in Nigeria alone. Violence linked to militant Islamist groups killed 24,000 people on the continent that year, a 24% rise in twelve months, across a record of over 8,000 violent events.

The human displacement is on a scale that is hard to take in. By mid-2026, 45.7 million Africans had been forced from their homes, about 3% of the continent’s population. Sudan’s war alone has displaced nearly 14 million people: 9.1 million inside the country and 4.5 million who have fled abroad. In West and Central Africa, some 20 million people were forcibly displaced as of April this year.

Two of these numbers deserve a second look. Six years ago, 29 million Africans were displaced. Today it is close to 46 million. That is a population larger than Morocco’s, living away from home because of war and repression. And Sudan has become a test the continent is failing in public. Globally, deliberate killings of civilians jumped from 14,200 in 2024 to 76,500 in 2025, a rise PRIO attributes to Sudan, and above all to the massacre in El Fasher. The Sahel, Somalia and the Lake Chad Basin together account for 98% of all deaths linked to militant Islamist groups on the continent. None of these crises is new. All of them were on the Luanda agenda.

The conversation we keep postponing

The world is being rearranged around us. Aid budgets are being redirected to defense. Great powers are competing openly for our minerals, our votes at the UN and our ports. In that kind of world, every summit with an external partner is also a negotiation. Moscow, like Washington, Beijing, Brussels, Tokyo or Ankara, arrives with a clear idea of what it wants from Africa. The question is whether Africa arrives with a clear idea of what it wants from them. Too often, it doesn’t. We have Agenda 2063, the African Common Position on UN reform, the African Mining Vision, the AfCFTA, The African Common Position on Debt… These are serious frameworks. But we have never sat down, at the level of heads of state, to agree a shared reading of the geopolitical shifts and a common line for engaging the powers that are courting us. So, 22 presidents can travel to Moscow, each with a separate bilateral agenda, while the continental position is spoken by whoever happens to be chairing that year. And they can come home having endorsed someone else’s description of the world order.

This is also why Luanda mattered. Conflict prevention is a strategic issue. Wars in Sudan, eastern DRC and the Sahel are increasingly internationalized, with outside powers supplying weapons, fighters, money or diplomatic cover. A continent that cannot agree on its own interests will keep finding those interests settled by others, on its own soil.

7 actions our leaders should take now

The Luanda Plan of Action already exists on paper. What’s missing is follow-through. Here is what would change that.

1. Hold an African summit on the changing world order before the next external one. The AU Assembly should convene a dedicated session, ideally at the January 2027 ordinary summit, to adopt a short continental position on the geopolitical shifts: what Africa wants on security, minerals, trade, finance and global governance reform. Every head of state attending a Russia, China, US, EU, Japan, Türkiye or Gulf summit would then carry that same brief.
2. Make Luanda measurable. The AU Commission should publish a public scorecard on the Luanda Plan of Action every six months, country by country, with the Peace and Security Council reviewing it in open session. Ndayishimiye said it himself in Luanda: the commitments must produce results that can be measured on the ground.
3. Fund our own peace. Member states should close the gap to the USD 1 billion Peace Fund target by the end of 2027, and use more than interest earnings for prevention. The 2016 Kigali levy of 0.2% on eligible imports was designed to do exactly this; it should be applied by every member state, not a handful.
4. Put prevention money where the early warnings are. The Continental Early Warning System already flags crises months in advance. Link its alerts to an automatic trigger for mediation teams and Crisis Reserve Facility funding, so a warning produces action instead of a communiqué.
5. Protect development in fragile zones. Ministers of finance and planning, working with the AfDB, World Bank (IDA) and RECs, should agree conflict-sensitive investment rules: risk-sharing guarantees, local procurement and community ownership that keep projects running when security deteriorates, rather than shutting them down at the first incident.
6. Turn up for Africa. Heads of state should treat AU extraordinary summits on peace and security as non-delegable. If 22 presidents can find time for Moscow, a full house in Addis Ababa, Luanda or Malabo is not too much to ask. Citizens, parliaments and the press should keep count, and say so.
7. Bring citizens and the Pan-African Parliament into the room. ECOSOCC, civil society, women’s and youth networks and the Pan-African Parliament should be part of monitoring Luanda and shaping the continental position on geopolitics. People living with these wars know what prevention requires.

None of this is an argument against partnerships. Africa should talk to everyone. But a continent of 1.5 billion people, with 29 active state-based conflicts and nearly 46 million people driven from their homes, cannot afford to keep arriving at other people’s tables before agreeing on what it wants at its own.

Africa needs leadership that anticipates and acts. The next time an extraordinary AU summit is called on the lives and security of our people, the attendance list should look like Moscow’s. Better still, it should look fuller.

On this page, I write on African policy, politics and institutions. If you’d like to receive my articles automatically as soon as they’re published, simply follow this blog using the “Follow” button at the bottom left of the page or send me an email at Desire.Assogbavi@Assodesire.com.

Today, I visited Robben Island Maximum Security Prison in Cape Town… I stood at Nelson Mandela’s cell, with Professor Saths Cooper, a former political prisoner who now chairs the Robben Island Museum.

Walking through this prison as he shared his own experiences gave the visit a deeply personal meaning. Seeing his name on the museum’s display, then hearing him tell his story, brought the history before us to life. A man once imprisoned here now helps ensure that the world remembers.

Standing at Mandela’s cell, I reflected on the sacrifices behind freedoms we too easily take for granted, and on our responsibility to protect and extend them.

The visit also brought me back to what the Open Society Foundations stand for: promoting human rights, equity and justice across the world and advocating for a society where everyone can participate fully, regardless of who they are. These principles take on a deeper meaning in a place where people were imprisoned for demanding recognition of their equal humanity.

For me, that is the thread connecting this history to our work today: defending the right to speak and organise, supporting those who challenge injustice, and ensuring that people excluded from power can shape the decisions affecting their lives. That responsibility extends to economic justice. The promise of liberation remains unfinished when people can vote but have little influence over decisions that shape their livelihoods, education and opportunities.

I leave grateful to Professor Cooper, and with a question that will stay with me: what are we doing with the freedom others paid so dearly to secure? The deepest tribute we can offer those who fought for freedom is to make it real for those still waiting to experience it.

I spent last week in Bangkok with the Open Society Foundations delegation at the Annual Meetings of the IMF and the World Bank from 12-18 October 2026. More than 18,000 people came: finance ministers, central bankers, bankers, researchers, activists, civil society…. What actually happened?

My short answer: Bangkok was a week of honest diagnosis and very little cure. The two institutions now describe the pain of developing countries almost exactly as African ministers do. But they left the rules that cause much of that pain largely untouched.

Here are what I saw, what the numbers say, and what I think should come next.

What happened in Bangkok

1. Everyone agreed the debt burden is crushing. Nobody agreed to change much.

IMF Managing Director Kristalina Georgieva gave the clearest number of the week. In low-income countries, debt repayments now take about 14% of government revenue, more than double the level of a decade ago. That happened even though their total debt has gone down. The reason is simple: interest rates in rich countries went up, and poor countries pay the price.

The World Bank’s own data shows that nearly four in five African countries now spend more on interest than on health or education. The UK’s Foreign Secretary told the meetings that sub-Saharan governments spend more than three times as much on debt service as on education.

Yet the official answer stayed the same. The IMF’s steering committee asked governments to cut deficits and “rebuild buffers”, while protecting the most vulnerable. Many of us in civil society call that austerity with a softer name. Georgieva herself admitted, “We are in a place where we have many more questions than we have answers.”

2. The World Bank bet on jobs and private money.

World Bank President Ajay Banga said “this meeting is all about jobs, private capital mobilization and micro- and small businesses.” The Bank announced a record $112 billion in private capital mobilized last year and pointed to a gap of 800 million jobs for young people entering work in the next decade. That sounds impressive. But most of that private money went to middle-income countries, not to the poorest. Banga admitted that getting it into low-income countries remains “a challenge.”

3. Africa’s growth looks fine on paper.

The IMF raised its growth forecast for sub-Saharan Africa to 4.5% for this year and next. That is faster than the world average of about 3.1%. But the IMF’s own Africa Director, Zeine Zeidane, said growth per person “remains quite weak.” He also warned that bilateral aid to the region will fall by another 12% this year, after a sharp cut in 2025.

4. On debt workouts, small steps.

The Global Sovereign Debt Roundtable reported that most restructurings started in 2021-22 are now nearly done, with Ethiopia’s bond deal still pending. The US Treasury said it wants Senegal’s debt treatment finished in under a year. That would be much faster than earlier cases: Ghana took more than a year just to reach a deal with its official creditors.

5. On voice, nothing new.

Africa is home to about 18% of the world’s people but holds only about 6.5% of the votes at the IMF. Ministers in Bangkok “looked forward” to ratifying a quota increase agreed back in 2023, and said future reform would follow principles adopted in April. There was no new seat and no new timetable.

6. Climate quietly left the room.

This was striking. Bangkok opened with unusual floods, and the IMF itself flags a severe El Niño as a major risk for Africa. Yet climate barely featured. Months earlier, under US pressure, the World Bank dropped its goal of putting 45% of its financing into climate. The US Treasury Secretary did not even come to Bangkok.

What it means for Africa

Here is the honest picture. Africa came to Bangkok asking for new rules, and it mostly got sympathy. But I did not leave discouraged, for three reasons.

A quiet reform with big potential. Just before Bangkok, the IMF and World Bank updated the tool they use to judge whether a poor country can carry its debt: The debt framework for low-income countries. It is the first full rewrite since 2017. The new version can finally count the long-term payoff of spending on people. Their own simulations show that spending 1% of GDP more on health and education lifts long-run output by about 1.9%. On infrastructure, it is about 3%. In plain words, building schools and clinics can pay for itself. The new tool starts in late 2027. Almost nobody talked about it in Bangkok. That is exactly why Africa should own it now.

The AU at the center. At the African Caucus meeting, according to the African Union, Banga said he wants to work with and through the AU rather than through scattered initiatives across the continent. That is a public commitment. Africa should hold him to it.

Africa building its own tools. While the big meetings repeated old answers, African and Southern countries were busy elsewhere. The African Union launched the Africa Credit Rating Agency in Mauritius on 7 October. Why does this matter? In 2024, African countries paid about $9 in interest for every $100 they borrowed on international markets, according to OECD estimates. Emerging Asia paid about $4.70 and Latin America about $6.50. Twenty-three African countries are not rated at all by the big agencies. A credible African agency, one that is willing to downgrade an African government when it must, could help bring that cost down. The continent has also adopted in February this year, a Common Position on Debt. If it is properly implemented, it could help shift the debate from debt sustainability to debt productivity.

In Bangkok itself, the new Borrowers’ Platform held its first governing council, with Pakistan taking over the chair from Egypt. For the first time, debtor countries have a place to compare notes and learn from each other. Its message was simple: debt should be a tool for development, not a brake on it.

There is also a lesson from the host. When Thailand last hosted these meetings in 1991, Asia-Pacific produced about a quarter of the world’s output. Today it is 43%. Industrial policy, patient public banks and strong tax systems played a big part. Even so, Thai officials said in Bangkok that their next challenge is turning foreign investment into local skills and local value. That is exactly the argument Africa must make about its minerals.

What should come next

Bangkok is over. The real work happens in the next six months. Here is what I think Africa and its partners should do.

1. Make the new debt tool count. The IMF should use the long-term module when it designs loan programmes, not only in its reports. African think tanks should test it on real country cases now, before the 2027 start, so Africa shapes how it is used.
2. AU Summit: one voice. Ghana takes the AU chair in 2027. The Summit in Addis Ababa early next year is the moment to bring the threads together: the new debt tool, faster debt workouts, the rating agency, the Borrowers’ Platform and a fair share of votes at the IMF.
3. Treat Senegal as the test. If Senegal’s debt treatment is done in under a year, every African country in trouble gains a precedent. If it drags, the Common Framework loses what credibility it has left. Transparency and protection of social spending must be part of the deal.
4. Use the UK’s G20 year. The UK takes the G20 presidency in 2027 and has said debt reform will be a priority. Its Foreign Secretary called in Bangkok for an overhaul of the Common Framework, an end to private creditors stalling talks, and money set aside before crises hit. Africa should help write that agenda early.
5. Ask the simple question about private capital. Of the $112 billion the World Bank mobilised, how much reached the poorest countries, and how many decent jobs did it create? Until we have that answer, the jobs agenda is a promise, not a result.
6. Fight for IDA and for climate grants. With bilateral aid falling again, a strong replenishment of IDA, the World Bank’s fund for the poorest countries, matters more than ever. Climate money for Africa should come as grants, not new loans.
7. Turn minerals into jobs. Half of the ministers now talk about critical minerals. Africa holds a large share of the world’s reserves. It must use that moment to insist on processing at home, fair contracts, open public budgets and a say for the communities who live next to the mines.

The checkpoint is close. The next Spring Meetings in Washington are in April 2027. We will see then whether Bangkok’s honest diagnosis turned into any treatment.

A closing thought

During the week, farmers and fishermen travelled hundreds of kilometres to protest outside the convention centre. Inside, ministers talked about “resilience”. Outside, people asked who that resilience was for.

Both groups were right about something. The world economy did not collapse this year, and that matters. But a system where the poorest countries pay the highest interest, hold the fewest votes and receive less and less aid is not resilient. It is just holding on.

Africa should stop waiting for these meetings to fix this. The tools are starting to appear: a new way to measure debt, an African rating agency, a borrowers’ club, a chance at the AU Summit. Our job now is to use them, together, and to arrive in Washington next April with our own answers.

On this page, I write on African policy, politics and institutions. If you’d like to receive my articles automatically as soon as they’re published, simply follow this blog using the “Follow” button at the bottom left of the page or send me an email at Desire.Assogbavi@Assodesire.com

This new article, by the Senegalese State Press Agency based on my interview during the IMF-World Bank Annual Meetings in Bangkok, focuses on Africa’s underrepresentation in IMF governance and the need to reform the international financial architecture.

Key messages:

• Africa remains seriously underrepresented at the IMF. The continent’s 54 countries hold only around 6.5% of IMF voting rights, despite representing approximately 18% of the world’s population.
• Reform of IMF voting power is overdue. The 2028 review of voting rights should deliver a meaningful redistribution of decision-making power, with concrete commitments emerging from Bangkok.
• Africa must also strengthen its collective influence. Beyond institutional reforms, African governments need stronger coordination, common negotiating positions, solid technical expertise and strategic alliances.
• African countries must help shape the rules. Countries directly affected by IMF decisions on debt, financing and economic reforms should have greater influence over those decisions before they become conditions attached to financing.
• Debt sustainability must account for development needs. Debt assessments and restructuring mechanisms should preserve governments’ ability to invest in healthcare, education and climate adaptation.
• Debt repayments are crowding out development spending. In many developing countries, interest payments alone exceed spending on health or education. Austerity cannot be the only response.
• A comprehensive approach is needed. African countries must simultaneously address debt pressures, strengthen domestic revenue mobilisation and expand productive economic capacity.

The central message: Africa needs both a fairer distribution of power within global financial institutions and a stronger, more coordinated African voice to influence decisions that shape its development future.

Read the full article (in French):
https://aps.sn/assemblees-annuelles-du-fmi-un-expert-appelle-a-une-meilleure-representativite-de-lafrique-au-conseil-dadministration/

I am sharing 2 articles published by the Senegalese state press agency (APS), based on my interview yesterday. They cover Africa’s development financing priorities and Senegal’s debt negotiations as a test of whether international debt mechanisms can deliver faster and fairer outcomes. I also touch on the role of philanthropy. 

The main messages are as follows:

• Development financing: Senegal must regain financial certainty while preserving its ability to invest.
• Better financing for Africa: Cheaper, longer-term funding, faster debt negotiations and private investment aligned with national priorities.
• Senegal as a test case: Credible public accounts, fair burden-sharing and recovery without stifling growth.
• Meaningful debt relief: Reduce annual repayment pressure without creating a bigger burden later.
• Benefits for people: Protect public services, support businesses and jobs, and safeguard savings and financial stability.
• Accountability: Publish agreement terms and track commitments through clear responsibilities, deadlines and public indicators.
• Philanthropy’s role: Support independent expertise, citizen oversight and dialogue that delivers policy change.

Bangkok’s success will be measured in the budgets, agreements and public services that follow.

Both articles are available in French here:

https://share.google/uGbhX4QFWls8JmPlf

https://share.google/qwzE5eNRTn162ZmEF

IMF & World Bank Annual Meetings 2026

Our Open Society Foundations’ team working on economic justice and development finance is now on the ground in Bangkok. I am here with my colleagues and partners as we prepare for the Annual Meetings from 12-18 October 2026 under the theme: “Mobilizing Private Capital, Creating Jobs”.

On the 7^th October 2026, IMF chief Kristalina Georgieva, gave a speech to open the season of the Annual Meetings. She told finance ministers: “Winter is coming.” She meant that energy would stay expensive. Oil costs about $100 a barrel. Markets expect high prices to last until 2027. For many African countries, this warning comes late. Countries that buy their fuel from abroad have been living through this for months.

The World Bank’s latest regional outlook offers some encouragement: sub-Saharan Africa is expected to grow by 4.3% in 2026. But the Bank also warns that growth remains too weak to reduce extreme poverty substantially or create enough jobs. It expects median inflation to rise from 3.7% in 2025 to 5.5% this year, but figures describe an uncomfortable reality. Economies can grow while families struggle and governments lose the financial room to act. For countries facing conflict, displacement or repeated climate disasters, the margin is narrower still.

The host region matters: When Thailand last hosted these meetings, in 1991, Asia-Pacific produced about 25% of world output. Today it is 43%. Industrial policy, patient public banks and strong tax systems did that. African delegations should pay close attention. This is the most useful lesson on offer in Bangkok.

Better rules, more than new money: Africa should not expect large amounts of new money in Bangkok. What matters more are the rules that decide how existing money is lent and repaid.

Debt: The IMF and the World Bank use a tool called the debt sustainability framework for low-income countries to judge whether poor countries can afford their debts. They have just updated this tool for the first time since 2017. Of the roughly 70 countries it covers, 39 are in Africa. The new version looks more closely at what governments owe to lenders at home. It also adds a part that should show how much room a government has to spend on development and climate. But it will only start in late 2027, and some of its new warning signals will not be made public for now. So, the real work now is about how the tool will be used in practice. If spending on a school or a hospital is treated as a danger to the budget and not as a real need, then the reform will change very little. About 14% of low-income countries already cannot pay their debts as planned, and another 33% are at high risk. In most African countries, governments now spend more on paying debt than on health or education. When countries try to renegotiate their debts through the G20’s Common Framework, the process takes years and private lenders are still not asked to give the same relief as governments and public lenders.

Senegal is the case to watch: In September, it reached an agreement with IMF staff on a $2.2 billion loan program over three years. It also wants to renegotiate about $5 billion of debt owed to private lenders under an improved version of the Common Framework. The IMF itself calls Senegal “the next test case”, and every African country in debt trouble will be watching. Two questions matter: how fast the renegotiation will move, and whether Senegal will keep enough room to raise its own taxes and invest in its long-term plans.

Voice: Africa has 54 of the IMF’s 191 members, the largest single bloc, yet only 6.5% of the votes for 18% of the world’s population. Each country’s share of votes is set by a review of “quotas”. The next review has been pushed back to 2028. When the promised reform keeps being delayed, people stop believing in it.

Jobs, private money and AI: good, but not enough: The IMF and the World Bank have built their Bangkok program around jobs, private investment and AI. The World Bank’s main sessions are called “Small AI, Big Jobs” and “Mobilizing Private Capital for Jobs”.  No one is against jobs or investment. But something is missing: the Asian countries that succeeded did not rely on private money alone. Their governments had clear plans to build industries. Public development banks lent money patiently and for a long time. Their tax systems raised enough money to build roads, power and skills. Private investment can help a lot. But we must ask which projects it supports, who pays when things go wrong, and whether it builds real local capacity or simply sends profits out of the country.

5 Things Bangkok Should Deliver

1/ Treat development needs as real needs: The new debt tool should give governments real room to spend on health, education and adapt to climate change. Detailed guidance on how to use the tool is where this will be decided.

2/ Set deadlines for debt talks: Debt renegotiations under the Common Framework need clear time limits. Private lenders should give the same relief as public lenders. Senegal should not have to wait two years like others before it.

3/ Keep the promise on voice: A review of votes in 2028 will only be believed if there are concrete steps before then. Africa’s third seat on the IMF Board should come with real influence over decisions.

4/ Turn minerals into development, not just exports: The World Bank launched its new critical minerals strategy in June. It rightly looks beyond the mine to power, water, transport, skills and local suppliers, and it promises to work through country-led compacts. That is welcome. Now the test is on the ground. The Democratic Republic of Congo alone mines 72% of the world’s cobalt, yet most of the value is added elsewhere. Changing these needs more than new investment. Mining contracts must be public and fair. Parliaments, civil society, trade unions and local communities must have a real say, not only governments. Mining corridors should develop the regions they cross, not just carry ore from pit to port, and should never take scarce water and power away from the people who live there. And the state must lead: national development banks, sovereign funds and local-content rules in public procurement can give Africans a real stake in the value chain. Bangkok, where Asian and African producers meet in the same building, is the right place to start learning from each other. The real question is not only how much money flows into mining, but who owns the resources, who decides, who benefits and who pays the costs.

5/ Make private money to serve the public: Investment deals should be open and clear. Risks should be shared fairly. Projects should follow national plans led by governments, with public development banks playing a leading role.

After Bangkok

One meeting cannot fix the whole system, and Bangkok will not. The G20 finance talks are quiet this year, and no one expects a joint statement here. But the next steps are clear. The United Kingdom will lead the G20 in 2027 and is already talking with the African Union, which is now a full member of the G20.

The World Bank will soon start raising new money for the International Development Association (IDA), its fund for the poorest countries. And African Heads of State will meet in Addis Ababa early next year.

Bangkok is a good place to start these conversations well. Africa should come with its own proposals, in the same building as Asian partners who have already built industries.

Georgieva ended her speech by saying that countries work together “not out of charity but out of self-interest”. Africa should take her at her word. A world economy that keeps one in five people on the planet stuck paying debts and selling raw materials does not serve anyone’s interest.

What AfCRA could mean for development finance, and what it needs to succeed

An important part of my work at the Open Society Foundations, focuses on development finance and on our engagement with Pan African institutions including the African Union, the African Development Bank and the United Nations’ Economic Commission for Africa.

For Africa’s development, what borrowed money costs matters as much as how much of it is available. That is why in this article I reflect on what the Africa Credit Rating Agency (AfCRA) could change for development finance, and what it will take to get there.

Three months ago in Abidjan, AfCRA was still a plan presented to African Ministers of Finance, Economic Development and Trade. This week in Port Louis, Mauritius, it becomes real. I am watching the launch from Bangkok, Thailand, where the IMF and World Bank meet next week for their 2026 Annual Meetings to discuss the very questions this new agency wants to answer: how risky is Africa?

On Wednesday, 7 October 2026, the African Union officially launched AfCRA in Port Louis, Mauritius, eight years after African leaders endorsed the idea in 2018. Backed by institutions such as Afreximbank, the new agency will rate governments, sub-national authorities such as cities and regions, financial institutions and private companies. One of its first goals is to give a rating to the 23 African countries that Moody’s, S&P and Fitch do not rate today. The stakes are high: Africa’s external debt service reached $163 billion in 2024, and every percentage point of interest Africa pays above what its risk justifies means less money for development.

Many of the issues to be discussed in Bangkok, such as debt and how to attract private money for development, come back to one simple question: how risky is it to lend to Africa, and how much should Africa pay to borrow?

The launch of AfCRA is a real achievement. The African Union asked the African Peer Review Mechanism (APRM) to study the idea in 2017, and African leaders approved it in 2018. Since then, it has been discussed, redesigned and delayed many times. But creating an agency is one thing. Lowering the cost of borrowing for Africa is another. The first happens this week. The second depends on conditions that are still far from being met. AfCRA will complement existing global credit rating agencies by offering an alternatif perspective rooted in African contextual data, expertise and realities.

What ratings cost Africa

A credit rating is a grade that tells lenders how likely a borrower is to repay. It affects who can lend to a government or a company, and at what interest rate. Some investors, such as pension funds and insurance companies, are often only allowed to buy bonds that have a rating.

Africa faces two problems here. The first is that much of the continent is invisible to investors. 23 African countries have no credit rating at all. APRM says Africa’s financial markets are worth about $4 trillion, but less than 5% of them are rated. UNDP estimates that rating more companies and cities could unlock about $46 billion in business.

The second problem is that, where ratings do exist, African governments say they are often based more on perception than on facts. UNDP has estimated that this unfair part of ratings could cost African countries up to $74.5 billion, through higher interest payments and loans they never receive. Not everyone agrees with this number, and it is best seen as a maximum rather than an exact bill. But the concern behind it is real.

There is another cost, and it concerns the IMF and World Bank directly. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the G20 offered poor countries a pause on their debt payments. When some countries applied, including Ethiopia, Moody’s warned that it might lower their rating. Several other African countries chose not to apply at all. When asking for help leads to punishment by the markets, the system is not working properly.

What AfCRA is, and what it is not

AfCRA will not replace the three big global agencies, Moody’s, S&P and Fitch. It will work alongside them. It is a private company, owned by Africans and based in Mauritius. It is meant to pay for itself and to be independent. APRM helped to set it up and will now step back.

At first, AfCRA will rate governments, regional and city authorities, company bonds, banks and other financial institutions. It will pay special attention to debt in local African currencies.

AfCRA is also not Africa’s first rating agency. Some operate on the continent, including GCR, Agusto & Co and Bloomfield. What Africa lacks is an agency that covers the whole continent, rates governments, and is taken seriously by investors in London and New York as well as in Lagos and Nairobi. That is the gap AfCRA wants to fill.

AfCRA has been honest about its limits. It says that an African rating cannot replace better information from governments. That is the right message. A rating agency measures risk. It does not reduce it.

What AfCRA needs to succeed

At least 5 conditions will decide whether AfCRA becomes truly useful or is politely ignored by investors.

First, real independence. AfCRA was created by an African Union decision, and its first clients will mostly be African governments paying to be rated. The global agencies are also paid by those they rate, which creates a conflict of interest. AfCRA faces the same risk, plus a political one. It must show clearly that no president or minister can influence its decisions. That means independent board members, public rules on conflicts of interest, ratings that are never negotiated with governments, and open information about its fees.

Second, the courage to deliver bad news. AfCRA is right that timing and communication matter during a crisis. But if investors believe it delays bad news to protect a government, they will stop trusting it.

Third, a clear and open method. AfCRA says its method reflects African realities. To convince investors, it must publish exactly how it works: what data it uses and how much weight it gives to each factor. Over time, it should also publish studies showing how accurate its ratings turned out to be.

Fourth, better data from governments. This depends on governments, not on AfCRA. Hidden loans, guarantees kept off the budget, and unclear debts of state-owned companies have damaged Africa’s credit more than any foreign agency. AfCRA cannot rate what governments hide. Countries that want fairer ratings must publish all their debts, including loans backed by oil, minerals or other resources.

Fifth, official recognition. Ratings matter most when the rules require people to use them. If African central banks and market regulators officially accept AfCRA ratings, banks and investment funds at home will have to take them into account. Work on this is already under way with the Association of African Central Banks and the Africa Securities Exchanges Association. Recognition by regulators in Europe and the United States will take years and a proven record. It is a good goal, but not something to count on soon.

What the IMF and World Bank can do

The IMF and World Bank do not control AfCRA, and they should not try to. But they shape the system it works in, and they can take four practical steps.

They can help improve data. Their support to help countries report all their debts gives every rating agency, African or not, better information to work with.

They can use AfCRA ratings where it makes sense. The World Bank’s private sector arms, IFC and MIGA, and the regional development banks increasingly lend and offer guarantees in local currencies. If they consider AfCRA ratings alongside others, the agency will gain early users who expect high quality.

They can make room for it in their analysis. The IMF and World Bank are reviewing the tool they use to judge whether poor countries’ debts are sustainable. That review should explain clearly how ratings are used, and leave room for trusted regional ratings as a reference.

They can tackle the punishment problem. As long as countries fear a rating cut when they ask for debt relief, they will avoid tools like the G20 Common Framework. The IMF and World Bank can bring global and African rating agencies together to agree on how ratings should treat countries that seek official debt relief.

The Real Test

AfCRA has taken a long time to arrive, and its launch is worth celebrating. But its real test will not take place in Port Louis this week or in Bangkok next week. It will come slowly, over the next five years: each time an African pension fund decides whether to buy a city bond, and each time AfCRA has to tell a government something it does not want to hear.

As a policy advocacy and development professional, I take the general debate of the UN General Assembly (UNGA) and the statements leaders make there seriously, for practical reasons. These speeches set the tone for the year ahead. They shape the direction of the Assembly’s own work over the coming months, in its committees, its negotiations and the resolutions it adopts. They also carry into the other big moments on the calendar, from the financing talks at the IMF and World Bank to Security Council reform, the climate COP and the AU Summit and beyond. They show how countries and regions are shifting their positions, and they give advocates a roadmap at every level (national, regional, continental and global) of what governments have told the world they want and intend to do. They also give us a receipt. A promise made at the podium in New York can be checked back home: in the budget, in the mining contract, in how the police treat protesters. The gap between what leaders say at the UN and what they do in their capitals is where much of our advocacy work lives.

So why focus on Africa in this article? Because Africa’s statements barely made the international headlines. Reuters’ six big takeaways from UNGA week were led by Iran, then Ukraine, with AI, Venezuela and Sudan close behind. Those are fair editorial choices; wars command attention. But as Africa Briefing argued, the larger story was how closely the African interventions fitted together. Security Council seats, borrowing costs, mineral value chains, climate finance, reparations and AI governance all came back to one question: who writes the rules? That story deserves a fuller telling than a wire service roundup can give it.

Before the session opened, I argued that it would test three things at once: whether power is really shifting, whether rights can survive being defunded, and whether multilateralism can still deliver. The general debate ran from 22 to 26 September and closed on 28 September. Every African delegation that wanted the podium has now had it. Here is what they said, what they avoided, and what it means for those of us who will hold them to it.

António Guterres set the tone in his last opening address as Secretary-General. He argued that the crises of the past decade are really one story about power: who has it, who is denied it, how it is used and how it is changing. African leaders picked up that thread and pulled hard.

One demand, many accents

Kenya’s William Ruto delivered the line of the session. Every nation has one vote in the Assembly, he said, yet five hold permanent power over war and peace that the other 188 do not. Africa’s 54 member states, more than a quarter of the membership, have no permanent seat: “Permanently discussed, yet permanently excluded.”

Nigeria’s statement, delivered by Vice President Kashim Shettima on President Tinubu’s behalf, demanded at least two permanent African seats with the veto for as long as it exists, plus five non-permanent seats.

Ethiopia’s President Taye Atske-Selassie renewed the call too, arguing that Africa has waited too long for equitable representation.

Senegal’s Bassirou Diomaye Faye said the time for observation had passed and the time for urgency and action had come, citing the Ezulwini Consensus, and announced Senegal’s bid for a non-permanent seat in 2032-2033. Even the Sahel confederation, which has broken with ECOWAS and much of the Western-led order, reaffirmed its support for Ezulwini and the Sirte Declaration.

South Africa’s Foreign Minister Ronald Lamola brought the number that should embarrass the Council most: over the past decade, 70% of Security Council resolutions have concerned conflicts on the African continent. We are the Council’s main business, and we have no permanent say in it.

None of this demand is new. What was new came from Sierra Leone’s Julius Maada Bio, who coordinates the AU’s Committee of Ten on reform. He said years of negotiations without results have tested the credibility of the process, and that member states should have a consolidated model before this session ends, as promised in the Pact for the Future. That is a deadline, and deadlines can be tracked. Bio also gave us the most useful sentence of the debate: “Representation becomes meaningful when it changes decisions and improves lives.”

Let’s be honest about the obstacles, though. Any change to permanent membership needs a Charter amendment ratified by two-thirds of member states, including all five permanent members. And the AU has still not decided which African countries would take the proposed seats, while Nigeria, Egypt and South Africa are all eyeing the role.

Money: the price of prejudice

Ruto noted that global public debt hit a record $102 trillion in 2024, and that 46 developing countries now spend more on interest than on classrooms and medicine. He argued that markets should charge for risk rather than prejudice, while also acknowledging that sound debt management and accountability at home are part of the answer.

Lamola framed the dilemma starkly. African governments, he said, must choose “whether to meet the needs of their citizens or satisfy the expectations of creditors.” In the last year alone, African countries spent roughly as much on debt service as it would take to close the continent’s infrastructure financing gap. South Africa backed a Borrowers’ Club to counterbalance creditors, along with more debt transparency and closer scrutiny of credit rating agencies.

Faye tied all of this to an anniversary I flagged in my first piece. Forty years after the Declaration on the Right to Development, he said, we know what is needed: deep reform of the financial architecture, sustainable debt treatment, fair global taxation, better access to concessional finance, and implementation of the Sevilla commitment and the Pact for the Future. He did not mention the draft covenant on the right to development, which has sat unadopted since 2023. That remains the missing piece.

Ghana’s Mahama linked climate to debt, arguing that countries with little responsibility for emissions should not have to borrow to recover from their effects, and calling for grants that do not create new debt.

Minerals: “process at home” becomes a continental refrain

The sharpest shift this year was on critical minerals. Leaders who agree on little else agreed here.

Sierra Leone’s Julius Maada Bio warned that the green transition must not reproduce the extractive terms of the past and called for processing at source and technology transfer. Mahama said Africa would not be a passive arena for a new scramble for resources, and Mnangagwa (Zimbabwe) argued that minerals should be beneficiated at source. Lamola reminded the Assembly that Africa holds the world’s largest reserves of critical minerals and insisted the continent must help write the rules on artificial intelligence.

Botswana’s Duma Boko made the same point about technology, saying developing countries need a real voice in setting the standards and safeguards for emerging technologies. Even the Sahel states promised more local transformation of their raw materials.

The strongest intervention came from the country where minerals and war are the same story. The DRC’s Prime Minister Judith Suminwa said: “We cannot build a decarbonized economy through blood-stained minerals.” She added that the DRC no longer wants to be “the basement of the world’s economy”, and rejects a model in which producer countries dig while processing, research and profits happen elsewhere.

I welcome the unity. I am less sure about the follow-through. Processing minerals competitively requires reliable electricity, transport, skilled labor, stable regulation and a great deal of capital. It is also a governance question: who gets the contracts, who sees the revenue, and whether mining communities and civil society can scrutinize either. Leverage without accountability just moves the extraction into new hands.

Conflicts, wars.

Africa’s conflicts were on the record, sometimes from both sides of the same war. Rwanda and the DRC gave the Assembly opposing accounts of the fighting in eastern DRC, where Rwanda-backed M23 fighters have seized Goma and Bukavu, though both stressed the need for progress towards peace. Suminwa’s message was about enforcement, not new diplomacy. Resolution 2773 already lays out the path, she said, including a cessation of hostilities and the withdrawal of Rwandan forces; what is missing is implementation.

On the Sahel, Diomaye Faye spoke as ECOWAS chair. Terrorism is cross-border by nature, he said, and must be fought together: “The Sahel must not be abandoned to its sad fate.” On the final day, the three states that left ECOWAS answered in their own voice.

Burkina Faso’s foreign minister Karamoko Jean Marie Traoré spoke for the Sahel confederation on behalf of Captain Ibrahim Traoré, General Assimi Goïta and General Abdourahamane Tiani, a single statement for three governments. The joint statement accused unnamed states of backing the terrorists, arguing that the weapons and supply chains used in recent attacks in Mali and Niger do not come from nowhere, and called silence in the face of such support complicity. Mali would name one of those states hours later. Traoré also claimed that Burkina Faso now controls more than 74% of its territory, a figure that comes from the government itself.

Mali named Ukraine

On the final day, Mali went further than the joint statement. Speaking for General Assimi Goïta, Foreign Minister Abdoulaye Diop called the violence in Mali a hybrid proxy war and publicly accused Kyiv of giving clear and open support to the terrorist groups operating in the Sahel. He then widened the charge, calling Ukraine only “the visible part of the iceberg” of a larger destabilization effort by powers he described as nostalgic for a colonial past (This obviously refers to France without naming it). He pointed to the coordinated attacks of 25 April and 4 July 2026 as proof of a dangerous connection, and said the 2012 scenario was repeating itself, with terrorist groups and self-described separatists fighting in open coalition. He also traced the region’s crisis back to NATO’s 2011 intervention in Libya, and his message to outside powers was direct: “We have no orders to take.”

This did not come from nowhere. In 2024, after the Tinzaouatène ambush that killed Malian soldiers and Wagner fighters, a spokesman for Ukraine’s military intelligence told Ukrainian television that the armed groups had received “all the necessary information they needed” from Kyiv. Mali cut diplomatic ties within days. Ukraine has consistently and categorically rejected the charge, calling it a Russian propaganda narrative.

This is one of the most serious accusations made at the podium this session, and it deserves to be treated seriously, which means investigated rather than simply asserted or dismissed. If any state is arming or guiding groups that kill Malian soldiers and civilians, that is a grave breach of international law, and it should be proven and punished.

There is a way to settle it. The Sahel joint statement itself asked the world to look at the facts and investigate seriously. Mali should take that request to its logical end and invite an independent UN-mandated inquiry into foreign support for armed groups in the Sahel, open to scrutiny of all outside actors, including Mali’s own Russian partners. That step would carry far more weight than an iceberg metaphor. It also shows the cost of walking out of the ICC: the governments now asking the world to investigate foreign crimes on their soil have just left the one permanent court designed to do it.

The iceberg image has a second edge. It shifts attention away from what Mali’s own security partnership has not delivered. Kidal changed hands again this year, the defence minister was killed in the April attacks, and the jihadist coalition has struck close to Bamako. Foreign meddling may well be part of the story. It cannot be the whole of it.

Sudan, Ethiopia and Gaza

Lamola called Sudan the worst humanitarian crisis in the world, and he is right. Yet Sudan’s head of state never reached the podium. The United States withheld a visa for army leader Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, and Reuters sources reported that it appeared to be conditioned on his accepting a 90-day ceasefire proposed by US adviser Massad Boulos. Guterres’s spokesman said the Secretary-General was deeply concerned and had raised it with US authorities. I have no sympathy for a general whose forces stand accused of grave abuses. But a host country using entry visas as leverage sets a precedent no African government should accept. The Headquarters Agreement exists so that access to the UN does not depend on Washington’s approval.

Ethiopia offered a different kind of silence. President Taye used his address to argue that Ethiopia cannot sustain its development without reliable access to the sea, framed as a regional project rather than a national one. The day before, Guterres had said he was gravely concerned by the rapidly deteriorating situation in northern Ethiopia, including the seizure of the Mekelle, Axum and Shire airports and intensified fighting in and around Tigray. In the coverage of Taye’s speech that I reviewed, Tigray does not appear. When the Secretary-General is warning of a wider war inside your country, the podium is the place to address it.

On Gaza, Mahama accused the international community of hiding behind diplomatic euphemisms while also condemning Hamas’s acts of terrorism. South Africa said Israel’s violations constitute genocide. Nigeria went the other way: its national statement focused on terrorism and insecurity and did not mention Palestine. Africa’s unity has limits.

Who wasn’t in the room

Nigeria’s president sent his deputy. Cyril Ramaphosa did not deliver South Africa’s general debate address, contributing through a pre-recorded message to an inequality event instead. Félix Tshisekedi skipped the week altogether. Sudan’s leader was kept out. None of the three Sahel leaders came.

What was missing, and what was worse than missing

In my first piece, I called the xenophobic attacks on African migrants in South Africa a shame, all the more so because South Africa hosted the original Durban conference. So I read Lamola’s Durban passage closely. He reaffirmed South Africa’s commitment to confronting racism and xenophobia through its Constitution and institutions, then pivoted to calling irregular migration a shared responsibility of all countries. That is a policy line. It is not an answer to Africans being chased from their homes and businesses on African soil. The only leader I found who named the problem head-on was Mahama, who warned that when belonging is weaponized for political expediency it becomes nativism, chauvinism and xenophobia.

The Sahel statement went in the opposite direction, and it deserves to be read carefully. The three juntas confirmed that they have formally notified their withdrawal from the Rome Statute, citing selectivity and politicization. Their slogan: “International justice, yes; variable-geometry justice, no.” They described human rights scrutiny of their emergency measures as partial and selective, said they accept impartial review but reject “political trials”, and attacked the European Parliament for its resolutions on the Sahel. They also argued that the first human right is the right to life.

Some speeches did turn the mirror inward. Mahama told fellow leaders to put their own houses in order: “Whoever comes into equity must come with clean hands.” Lamola called for protecting international justice institutions from sanctions and intimidation, a welcome line while the ICC is under attack.

Ruto made the same point about international law being invoked loudly in one crisis and ignored in another. But leaving the only permanent international criminal court is not a cure for selective justice. It guarantees no justice at all for victims in the Sahel, including victims of abuses by state forces and allied militias. The answer to a court that is too weak on the powerful is a stronger court, not an exit. The same statement that demanded an end to double standards asked the world to trust governments that no longer allow independent international scrutiny. Africans deserve better than that trade.

Across the addresses I reviewed, the shrinking space for journalists, activists and opposition voices on our own continent barely featured. We can’t credibly demand a fairer global order while tolerating unfairness at home.

What I’ll be watching

Bio’s deadline for a consolidated reform model before this session ends, and whether the AU finally agrees on who would take Africa’s seats. Whether the Borrowers’ Club gets real members and rules, starting at the IMF and World Bank Annual Meetings in Bangkok next month. Whether “process at home” produces mining contracts that citizens can actually see. Whether the Sahel states’ ICC exit is matched by credible national accountability, or simply by less of it, and whether Mali’s accusations are ever put before an independent inquiry. And whether Ghana’s AU chairmanship in 2027 turns this week’s words into a continental strategy.

Africa has been permanently discussed for eighty years. This week it spoke up, loudly and with unusual coherence. The next twelve months will show whether anyone was listening, and whether we were listening to ourselves.