The Oracle

The Oracle: Blood on the Benue: Weeping for Beleaguered Nigeria

Published

9 months ago

June 20, 2025

Eric

By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

Yelwata in Benue state has been drenched in blood. Last October, I launched 50 books at the same time in Abuja to mark my birthday. One of the books is titled “Blood on the Niger and Benue: Nigeria’s Grim Insecurity Situation”. Everything said in that book has just bee reenacted in Yelwata, Benue State.

In the quiet hours of Friday night, June 13, 2025, the farming village of Yelwata in Guma Local Government Area of Benue State lay cloaked in the familiar darkness of rural Nigeria. There was no forewarning, no alarm. Only sleep. Then, like a storm without thunder, horror descended.
Armed men, suspected to be killer Fulani terrorist herders, emerged from the shadows and set upon the defenceless community with brutal precision. For more than two hours, they maimed, slaughtered, burned and razed. By the time the sun rose on Saturday morning, the landscape had transformed into a grotesque tapestry of charred ruins, still-smouldering debris and lifeless bodies sprawled across crimson soil. Over 200 people were reportedly confirmed dead at the scene and the toll would rise in the days that followed, with some reports placing the number of victims at over 300. Among the dead were children, pregnant women and elderly farmers, civilians caught in the indiscriminate cruelty of a calculated massacre. I most unequivocally condemn this horror, this man’s inhumanity to man. It must never happen again. NEVER!
Witnesses recounted how petrol was doused on thatched homes before they were set ablaze. Whole families perished in their sleep, trapped by flames and collapsing roofs. The night echoed with the crackling of the burning and the screams of the wounded and the orphaned. Survivors stumbled through the darkness, scorched and bleeding, in search of refuge. At the Benue State University Teaching Hospital in Makurdi, doctors worked frantically, overwhelmed by the influx of casualties. Medical personnel issued urgent calls for blood donations as the wards filled with the critically injured, many clinging to life with little more than hope.

In a land where yam festivals should flourish, the earth has instead flourished with drunk blood. A serene and prosperous village, producing large quantity of food is now a ghost community, no thanks to deadly attacks by killer herdsmen, who pose as innocent cattle rearers.

A PEOPLE LEFT FOR DEAD: THE HUMAN TOLL

What occurred in Yelwata cannot be dismissed as a “clash,” nor cloaked in the diplomatic cowardice of euphemisms that seek to sanitize horror. This was not a skirmish. It was not a misunderstanding. It was a massacre! A premeditated act of mass violence, executed with recklessness and impunity against a defenceless civilian population, in total defiance of laws and moral conscience. The people of Yelwata have become mourners in their own homeland, dressed in black, forever gathering the bones of the innocent. The village has been painted over with the sorrow of the grieving and the brushstrokes of trauma.

Among the victims was the family of Michael Ajah, a survivor now left hollowed by grief. Ajah lost twenty members of his family in a single night! Eleven perished in one house. Eight were killed in another. The others died in the chaos, scattered across a village that now exists only in ashes. His stores were burnt. His home was destroyed. Standing barefoot in the ruins, he described how he escaped only with the clothes on his back. “This is the only thing that I have now,” he said. “There is nothing else with me.” Bature Bartholomew, Joseph Kwagh and countless others suffered a similar fate.
Apparently, prior threats had been made, as they often are, but villagers had grown used to such messages. The community had seen warnings before. And in the past, some security forces had pushed back similar threats. The villagers believed it would be the same this time. They likened it to the story of the crying wolf. They were wrong.
Let the world hear it: the peaceful people of Yelwata were not victims of chance. They were targeted. They were hunted. And they were massacred.

DEAFENING SILENCE AND DEADLY INACTION BY GOVERNMENT

The massacre in Yelwata is not just a story of blood and loss. It is a harrowing indictment of leadership failure, systemic neglect and institutional cowardice. In the face of rising tensions and repeated warnings, those entrusted with the security of Benue State and Nigeria at large chose silence. Security forces knew the fragility of peace in Yelwata. They were not blind to the pattern. From Guma to Agatu, Logo to Turan, the script has played out over and over: villages burnt, families erased, justice deferred. Yet, no preventive measures were taken. No fortified presence. No aerial surveillance. Only the eerie stillness of a nation too used to the scent of scorched earth.

When the killers struck again, it was not a surprise. It was an inevitability made possible by deafening silence and deadly inaction. The people of Benue have cried themselves hoarse, year after year, massacre after massacre. But their grief has been met with bureaucratic apathy and public relations condolences. Governor Hyacinth Alia’s response to the massacre was not merely inadequate; it was an affront. His delay in visiting the scene, his refusal to speak, tweet, or even mourn publicly until after President Tinubu’s very belated visit, has been interpreted not just as incompetence but as possible complicity. In the face of over 200 dead, the Governor offered the nation a figure of 59, thus inimizing the scale of bloodshed and insulting the graves of the murdered. What even if it were one? Instead of naming the perpetrators, he set up an investigative panel that tactfully avoided attributing blame, as if the truth was inconvenient, as if justice might provoke too much discomfort.
When President Tinubu finally arrived in Benue, the expectations of a grieving people were clear: solidarity, seriousness, swift action and restitution. What they received instead was a grotesque display of political theatre. Placards bearing the President’s image lined the roads. Schoolchildren, soaked and shivering, were forced to line the streets under a heavy downpour, waving soggy banners while mass graves still steamed in the earth nearby. What should have been a moment of solemnity turned into an unofficial 2027 re-election rally, a tasteless spectacle that traded the blood of Yelwata for photo ops. This was not condolence. This was campaign optics.
This playbook is not new. On New Year’s Day in 2017, over 200 people were slaughtered in Benue for resisting the destruction of their crops by cattle. On December 25th, 2024, as Christians marked the birth of Jesus Christ, suspected armed herders invaded Ityuluv, Tse Azege and Innyiev Ya in Kwande Local Government, killing eleven people mid-celebration. The images are consistent: corpses laid out under church roofs, burning homes, the wails of mothers who will never again hold their children. Yet from the corridors of power, the same recycled rhetoric flows: “We condemn,” “We are investigating,” “We urge calm.” But no arrests. No convictions. No justice. Just the thud of fresh bodies hitting the ground.
Even the words of comfort are now hollow. President Tinubu’s lamentations, “Enough is enough… perpetrators must be arrested… communities must dialogue”, ring with irony. Dialogue with whom? With the men who crept through the rain to burn babies alive? With those who hacked entire bloodlines to death because they were asked not to graze on people’s farmland? Dialogue implies equal grievance. This is not war. This is terrorism. Pure and simple. And to place dialogue and reconciliation above accountability is to trample on the memory of the dead.

Dr. Daudu Ayu of Yelwata captured the fury of a betrayed people when he denounced the President’s framing of the massacre as a “conflict between warring communities.” There is no parity here. The Fulani attackers were not defending; they were invading. Their aim was clear: seize ancestral lands, decimate indigenous populations and spread fear as a weapon of conquest. To reduce this to “herder-farmer clashes” is to excuse genocide with semantics.

The numbers are staggering. Since 2009, Nigeria has lost millions of lives to insurgency and herder-farmer violence. Benue alone has absorbed blow after blow, turning its farmlands into open graveyards. The government’s failure to act, its refusal to label this terrorism for what it is, has emboldened the killers. Why would they stop when they face no consequence? Why retreat when their path is cleared by political hesitation and legal paralysis?
President Tinubu’s muted outrage and calculated ambiguity do not typify exemplary leadership. They are avoidance wrapped in grammar. His failure to draw a red line, to name the aggressors, to galvanize decisive military action, makes his ambition for a second term in 2027 more than politically distasteful; it makes it morally flawed. How do you govern the living if you preside over the slaughter of the forgotten?

Each delayed response, each muted condemnation, adds one more body to the pile. For years, as statistics ballooned into genocidal proportions, the government sermonized from podiums while the fields of Benue ran red. This latest atrocity in Yelwata is not the beginning of the story, but it must be the final warning. Because if Nigeria cannot protect its citizens, if the Constitution’s promise of security and welfare is conditional on tribe, location, or silence, then it is not a nation; it is a lie, a scam.

Enough, please. Condolences do not resurrect the dead. Nor do photo-ops rebuild homes. The people of Yelwata need more than pity; they demand justice. And if this government cannot deliver it, then it must step aside for one that will. The land of yams is now the land of tombs. And history will remember who stood up and who stood back while it all burned.

TERROR HAS A NAME! CALL IT BY ITS NAME!!

According to Fr. Remigius Ihyula, a long-time witness to these cycles of violence and trauma in Benue State, this is a coordinated effort to wipe indigenous Christian communities off the map. “These Fulani militias are not just killing, they’re clearing land to claim it,” he stated in what should have been a national alarm bell. “And they’re being allowed to do it.”

The silence that follows such clarity is complicity. These attackers do not crawl out of caves. They cross state lines. Emboldened, equipped and unchallenged. From neighboring Nasarawa. Armed groups are said to find safe haven in Lafia, the state capital; yet successive Nasarawa governors have refused to act. Not out of ignorance, but from calculation. What kind of leadership turns its face away while death marches across its borders in open daylight? What kind of democracy tolerates this level of carnage and calls itself whole?

And when the few voices brave enough to speak the truth rise, they are met with digital disinformation and diversion. Fr. Ihyula has strongly condemned attempts to scapegoat the Tiv people, refuting online rumors that Tiv militias orchestrated the massacre. “There were no Tiv fighters involved,” he said. “This is a deliberate attempt to muddy the truth and shield the real perpetrators.” In a country already fracturing under the weight of ethno-religious mistrust, such deflections are more than cowardly. They are dangerous.
David Onyillokwu Idah of the International Human Rights Commission gave name to what many have been too afraid to utter. “This is what the Nazis did to the Jews,” he warned. “It’s ethnic cleansing, step by step. First, they displace them. Then they come back and finish the job.” This is not sensationalism. It is a fact pattern. Entire villages emptied. Men and women slaughtered. Children hacked to pieces. Homes razed. Crops destroyed. Entire communities transformed into ghost towns with only ashes left to speak.

And where is the state? Where is the machinery of justice, the constitutional promise of safety, dignity and equal protection? Every law in Nigeria, beginning with the Constitution, affirms that the right to life is sacred. That the state has an inviolable duty to protect it. Yet in Yelwata, life was treated like expendable surplus. Background casualty in the theater of statecraft. Amnesty International has catalogued the horrors, calling attention to the government’s complete failure to stem the tide of violence. “Gunmen have been on a killing spree with utter impunity,” it reported, warning that the mass displacement of farmers would have ripple effects on food security and economic stability. Their statement, clinical yet urgent, highlighted not only a humanitarian disaster but also the erosion of constitutional order. “Without immediate action, many more lives may be lost.” The question is: does the government intend to act, or merely wait until there are no more villages left to bury?

POLICY OR HUMANITY FAILURE

What occurred in Yelwata is not only a breach of human dignity. It is a breach of law, of the very fabric that claims to hold Nigeria together. These are not mere attacks; they are crimes against humanity. Under international law, under the Rome Statute to which Nigeria is a signatory, a systematic attack directed against a civilian population qualifies as such. Ethnic cleansing, political protection of armed militias and the use of displacement as a weapon, all point towards a dangerous descent Nigeria cannot afford. This is not just Yelwata’s burden. This is a national stain.

The issue is no longer one of mere policy failure. It is a test of our collective humanity. It is the measure of whether we, as a people, as a nation under law, believe rural Nigerian lives matter. Because every time a tactical unit is deployed after the massacre, every time officials show up after the mass burial, every time condolences are uttered while killers remain nameless and free—it tells the people of Yelwata that their blood is cheap. That their lives are expendable. That they are alone.

But the Constitution says otherwise. Section 14(2)(b) of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, 1999 (as amended), declares the security and welfare of the people to be the primary purpose of government. Section 33 guarantees the right to life. Section 34 guarantees the right to dignity. Yet in the fields of Yelwata, once alive with farming, festivals and laughter, there is now only ash, silence and death. These rights, on paper, are being buried beside the people they were meant to protect.

If Nigeria still believes in its own laws, in its own humanity, then Yelwata must not be forgotten. Their stories must outlive the silence. Their names must echo louder than the rain that hid the footsteps of their killers.

This is no longer a rural crisis. It is a national reckoning. And history is already watching.

FROM CRIES TO JUSTICE: WHAT MUST NOW BE DONE

The carnage in Yelwata, like so many before it, leaves behind more than scorched homes and mass graves. It leaves a nation at a crossroads. In the place of swift justice, we have seen a cycle of condolences without consequence. In the place of leadership, we have seen silence, sluggishness and in some quarters, chilling complicity. And so, once again, a grieving people are left to ask: must our cries be louder than gunfire before we are heard? Must the soil drink more blood before the state will act?

The Northern Senators Forum, in a rare and firm voice, echoed the frustration of a people brutalized beyond measure. Chairing the statement, Senator Abdulaziz Musa Yar’adua called upon President Tinubu to ensure that his visit to the ashes of Yelwata would not dissolve into a photo-op footnote. “What the people of Benue and indeed all Nigerians, deserve is lasting protection, not repeated mourning.” In a nation where impunity now travels in convoys, that statement carries the weight of a challenge, not a courtesy.

But lip service will no longer suffice. Nigerians are not beggars at the gate of justice. They are constitutional citizens entitled to life, dignity and safety. Yet these rights have been violated repeatedly in Benue State, a region that has endured more than its fair share of bloodletting. Rural communities have become theatres of unrelenting terror. Ungoverned spaces stalked by militias, abandoned by the state and forgotten by a government too slow to respond, too quick to excuse. Yelwata is but a metaphor of what goes on across the length and breadth of Nigeria.

This moment demands more than mourning. It demands reckoning. The Constitution empowers the President to declare a state of emergency where there is a serious breakdown of public order and a clear and present danger is presented. That threshold has long been crossed. As Sir Ifeanyi Ejiofor, Esq, rightly noted, what we are witnessing is not communal misunderstanding. It is a transnational siege. Militants from across the Cameroon border continue to pour in, slaughtering with impunity, while the federal and state governments grope in the dark of denial.
And where was the governor, the supposed shepherd of the people? Governor Hyacinth Alia, elected to protect lives, stood muted while bodies were piled. The faint whisper of his voice came days after, long after the wails of the bereaved had risen to the heavens, long after Pope Leo XIV. It is not enough to wear a cassock; one must wield courage. It is not enough to call for prayer; one must demand justice. And if political office now weighs heavier than his conscience can bear, perhaps the pulpit is where he truly belongs. The hood does not make the monk after all.

RECOMMENDATIONS

1. Immediate Deployment of Adequate Security Forces
The first and immediate line of intervention must be the swift deployment of sufficient, well-trained and fully-equipped security personnel to the affected communities. But this cannot be business as usual. Our military and other security agencies must stop operating in separated silos. What we need is joint intelligence gathering, joint operations and joint accountability. Anything less is a betrayal of the people already left exposed and bleeding.

2. Declaration of a State of Emergency in the Affected Areas
The Federal Government must now invoke its constitutional mandate under Section 305 of the 1999 Constitution to declare a targeted state of emergency in the devastated areas. This should not be done as a mere political gimmick like in Rivers State but as a constitutional necessity. Such a declaration would allow for a unified, coordinated and rapid security response, free from the red tape that has too often cost lives. It would restore public order, unlock emergency relief and send a powerful message, not just to the perpetrators, but to the bereaved that Nigeria has not entirely lost its soul.

3. Establishment of a Judicial Commission of Inquiry
A robust, truly independent Judicial Commission of Inquiry must be established to thoroughly investigate these atrocities. It must dig deep; not just into who pulled the triggers, but into who enabled them, who funded them, who looked away. Justice must be more than ceremonial. It must be seen, heard and felt. Otherwise, we embolden the next set of killers.

4. Government Assistance to Victims and Survivors
The dead must not be buried with the silence of the state. Survivors must not be left to wander with grief as their only companion. The government must offer immediate and sustained relief, medical care, shelter, financial assistance, food, clothes, relocation support and psychosocial services. Compassion must walk hand in hand with justice. Not as charity, but as a right.

5. Tackling the Root Causes: Annexation and Occupation by the Fulani Herders; Poverty, Unemployment and Illiteracy
Peace is not built on military boots alone. It is built on dignity of the human person; opportunity and hope. The structural causes of this continuous violence must be tackled. First, the government must extirpate this sense of irredentist annexation and occupation of the land of the Natives all over Nigeria by fully armed Fulani herders. The grinding poverty, monumental unemployment and educational exclusion must be confronted and dealt with boldly. These are not background issues; they are the fuel that ignite the crises. A country that fails to invest in its people will eventually have to bury them.

6. Inclusive Dialogue with Traditional Rulers and Community Leaders

Security is not the exclusive preserve of the state. It must be co-owned by the people. Traditional rulers, faith-based leaders, youth groups and local stakeholders must be at the table, not as spectators but as partners. Their voices carry legitimacy and their cooperation carries weight. The road to peace must pass through the hearts of the people who live there.

Nigeria must abandon the lie that some lives are worth more than others. Whether in Lagos or Yelwata, the right to life is not negotiable.

Justice must rise. Not as a whisper but as a national roar. For each charred body in Yelwata cries out; not for pity, but for prosecution. Not for platitudes, but for policy. Not for remembrance, but for reform. Let the government stop sermonizing and start securing. Let the Presidency remember that it was elected to protect, not to pontificate. And let the nation rise to say: enough. Not one more grave before we act. Not one more child buried before we move.

IF NOT NOW, WHEN?

I have decried this nightmare too many times. My voice is now hoarse from screaming into the void. And if I, one far removed from; a mere citizen and a conscience with pen and protest feel this ravaged, this worn, then what must be the state of mind of the grieving people of Yelwata, of Benue? What must it be to live in constant dread, to bury child after child, to rebuild only for fire to raze it again?
The people of Benue State deserve better. They deserve a government that does not look away, a system that does not delay and a nation that does not devalue their suffering. The Yelwata massacre was not just a tragic event. It was an indictment. A blistering exposure of governance gone cold and a security architecture collapsed under the weight of its own rot. It laid bare the double standards that govern Nigerian responses to violence: swifter when it affects the elite and sluggish, if not silent, when it happens in the farmlands of the forgotten.

This was not just a failure of one government. It was the betrayal of institutions. A brutal failure by Governor Hyacinth Alia, who watched from within the state without uttering a word while the ashes of his constituents cooled. A glaring failure by the Tinubu administration, that merely sent condolences before justice and optics before concrete action. A catastrophic failure by the Nigerian state itself, whose primary constitutional duty, to protect life and property, was abandoned the moment the first gunshots rang out in Yelwata.

This massacre cannot be allowed to happen again. Not under any guise. Not cloaked in politics. Not silenced by power. Not dulled by time.

We end not in quiet despair, but in thunderous resolve. This grief will not make us mute. This pain will not make us passive. The dead of Yelwata are not numbers to scroll past—they are names, families, futures. They are stories etched into our conscience.

And so we write and will monitor the implementation of our recommendations.
We will not stop until the soil of Yelwata no longer tastes of blood, but of justice. Until the lives lost become the spark for national reckoning. Until silence is replaced by outrage and condolences give way to action.

The Oracle

The Oracle: The New Digital Colonialism: Navigating AI Policy Under Foreign Tech Dominance (Pt. 4)

Published

16 hours ago

March 27, 2026

Eric

Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

The last episode of this treatise concluded our examination of the preferences of the Western (US, EU) and Eastern (China) hemispheres on the subject after which we considered the dangers of weak localization and disproportionate influence of foreign technology on African ecosystems. This was followed by an analysis of the issues generated by AI policy and later we looked at what African States needs to do to tackle the challenge-using Nigeria as a case study. Today, we shall continue with same with special emphasis on the pen in the trans-continental transformation of AI technology and later x-ray the need for technological sovereignty and for crafting an indigenous AI policy agenda. We shall then conclude with an overview of lessons from abroad including the US, EU and China. Enjoy.

AI POLICY AND DIGITAL TRANSFORMATION IN AFRICA, WHO WIELDS THE PEN?

In one sentence, we wield the pen. Our governments, independent state actors, entrepreneurs, African men, women and youth all share in this responsibility. The future of Africa’s digital transformation depends on whether we choose to author our own story or allow others to continue writing it for us.

Africa is witnessing an increasing call for technological sovereignty: the ability to control our own infrastructure, data and innovations. This idea, central to decolonial frameworks, insists that we must move away from being a passive consumer of technologies and reclaim control of its digital future. Kwame Nkrumah emphasized the importance of pan-African cooperation for achieving sovereignty. That vision today extends to the digital realm, where regional collaboration and homegrown solutions are critical for breaking dependency on Western corporations. Achille Mbembe further argues that Africa should leverage indigenous knowledge systems and local resources to create technologies that reflect African values, rather than merely importing Western tools ill-suited to its unique needs.

The digital divide between Africa and the West is not merely technical; it is rooted in structural and historical inequalities. The continent’s persistent reliance on foreign technologies reflects centuries of global imbalances that continue to shape how resources and knowledge flow. A central issue is technological dependency: Africa consumes technologies made elsewhere instead of shaping them (Tyler Robinson, ‘Navigating Digital Neocolonialism in Africa’ (cigionline.org) < www.cigionline.org/static/documents/DPH-paper-Stevenson_1.pdf > Accessed on 16th September, 2025).

Global tech giants dominate Africa’s digital landscape, extracting vast amounts of data without adequate investment in local infrastructure or people. Data extraction not only perpetuates Western dominance but also strips Africa of sovereignty over its own digital futures. Without robust regulations or sufficient local technological capacity, African nations remain vulnerable to these external forces.

NEED FOR TECHNOLOGICAL SOVEREIGNITY

Against these challenges, the need for technological sovereignty becomes undeniable. Africa must not remain a passive participant in the global digital economy. We must take proactive steps to build our own technological infrastructure and policies. Sovereignty in the digital age is not just about access but about authorship: designing systems that align with African values, priorities and aspirations. Some progress is already visible. Many governments are beginning to reclaim data oversight by establishing national data centres, such as those in Benin and Togo. These centres enable local data governance and prevent exploitation. Even when international institutions provide support, African states are increasingly insisting on local ownership and oversight (ibid).

Partnerships and trade agreements have also played a role in shaping Africa’s digital transformation, sometimes limiting, sometimes enabling. The Policy and Regulatory Initiative for Digital Africa (PRIDA), funded by the European Union and implemented by the African Union, supports broadband access, harmonized digital policies, and the capacity to implement them. While the framework is influenced by European legislation, it ensures stronger protections for African citizens. The Pan-African e-Network Project, originally launched in India but now African-led, connects countries via satellite and fibre, enabling teleeducation and telemedicine across borders. It demonstrates that partnerships can succeed when they are driven and managed by Africans. Similarly, the Smart Africa Alliance was established to transform the continent into a collaborative digital market. By centring ICTs within socio-economic development agendas, the alliance promotes sustainable policies, digital infrastructure, and affordable access across its member states.

TOWARD AN INDIGENOUS AI POLICY AGENDA: RECOMMENDATIONS

While significant progress has been made, more must be done to ensure that Africa wields the pen in shaping its digital destiny. Recommendations emerging from this discussion are clear:
1. Prioritize investment in indigenous technologies and local innovation rather than relying primarily on foreign solutions.

2. Expand digital literacy and capacity-building across the continent to empower citizens to participate meaningfully in the digital economy.

3. Strengthen regional collaboration by developing a unified digital strategy that reflects Africa’s collective interests and unique needs.

4. Establish and enforce robust regulatory frameworks to protect data, safeguard citizens, and curtail exploitative practices of global tech corporations.

5. Pursue strategic partnerships with external actors only on terms that guarantee local ownership, oversight, and long-term autonomy.

6. Operationalise Ethics by Design across all AI and digital identity systems by embedding impact assessments, fairness audits, user consent, and accountability mechanisms at every stage—from policy formulation to system deployment.

7. Mandate algorithmic explainability and independent auditing for all AI models impacting critical sectors such as healthcare, credit, policing, and education, ensuring transparency and bias detection.

8. Localise and secure data within national borders by requiring sensitive national datasets to be stored in certified local data centres, supported with investments in infrastructure and cybersecurity.

9. Extend NDPA protections to vulnerable and marginalised communities by enabling inclusive identity verification methods, community-based registration agents, and exemptions for hard-to-reach populations.

10. Establish a Public Interest Technology Task Force composed of ethicists, technologists, civil society, and legal scholars to provide oversight and human rights evaluations before new systems are rolled out.

11. Prioritise national capacity building in data ethics and digital rights through mandatory training for government agencies, judiciary, MDAs, and law enforcement bodies.

12. Make digital consent comprehensible, accessible, and verifiable by requiring plain-language terms, local translations, audio/visual options, and legal avenues to revoke consent.

13. Decentralise and democratise identity systems by adopting a federated model where local governments, trusted institutions, and community actors can verify identity, reducing exclusion and dependency on centralised systems.

14. Enforce mandatory Data Protection Impact Assessments (DPIAs) for high-risk public projects, with findings made public and subject to independent review; impose strict penalties for non-compliance.

15. Create civic engagement pathways in digital governance through open consultations, citizen assemblies on AI ethics, participatory monitoring, and data literacy campaigns to treat citizens as democratic stakeholders.

Only by embracing these recommendations can Africa move from dependency to sovereignty. This continent must wield the pen herself, authoring a digital future rooted in African values and aspirations and ensuring full participation in the global digital economy on our own terms.

LESSONS FROM THE EU, US AND CHINA

THE EU

1. The European Union’s AI Act provides a tiered, risk-based approach to regulating artificial intelligence, distinguishing between unacceptable, high, limited, and minimal risk. Obligations such as transparency, oversight, and outright bans are matched to the level of risk. For Africa, this model illustrates how to avoid over-regulating low-risk tools while ensuring strict oversight of high-risk applications.

2. Closely tied to this is the EU’s privacy-by-design approach, anchored in the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR). Here, privacy safeguards, data minimisation, and “by default” protections are integrated from the outset of system design. Africa can adopt this holistic model by embedding privacy and data rights into both law and practice, with strong enforcement mechanisms.

3. The EU also prioritises transparency, accountability, and liability. High-risk systems must undergo conformity assessments, independent audits, and documentation processes. Liability frameworks are being expanded to ensure that citizens can seek redress when harmed by AI systems. This provides a template for Africa to hold developers, deployers, and regulators accountable.

4. In addition, the EU AI Act prohibits certain practices outright, such as social scoring, manipulative techniques, and some forms of biometric surveillance. Setting non-negotiable boundaries protects citizens while providing clarity for innovators.

5. Finally, the EU demonstrates the value of operational readiness and compliance infrastructure. GDPR compelled companies to build compliance units (e.g., privacy officers, auditing mechanisms), which now serve as the foundation for AI oversight. Africa should similarly invest early in institutions, regulators, and technical capacity to ensure that laws are enforceable in practice.

THE UNITED STATES

1. The United States illustrates how rapid executive action can shape emerging technologies even before legislation matures. For instance, Executive Order 14110 (2023) on AI mandated agency risk assessments, civil rights considerations, and workforce planning. Africa can similarly use presidential or ministerial directives to establish immediate governance frameworks while legislative processes catch up.

2. The Blueprint for an AI Bill of Rights (2022) articulates citizen protections, including transparency, fairness, privacy, and the right to opt out. This offers a model for Africa to enshrine AI-related rights in constitutional or statutory instruments, ensuring that protections are not left as policy afterthoughts.

3. The U.S. also underscores the importance of equity and non-discrimination. Policies emphasize audits, training, and oversight in areas such as employment, housing, health, and policing to prevent algorithmic bias. Africa should follow this lead by embedding protections for marginalized groups into its AI strategies, addressing gender, ethnic, and rural-urban disparities

4. At the same time, the U.S. demonstrates how innovation and competition can be promoted alongside regulation. Federal agencies such as NIST, together with grant schemes and research funding, stimulate startups and infrastructure growth. For Africa, combining protective regulation with incentives for local innovation will ensure that governance does not stifle creativity or competitiveness.

CHINA

1. China’s national AI strategy highlights the power of entrepreneurial hubs and incubators as engines of innovation. Africa can adapt this model by building regional AI hubs that connect academia, industry, and startups while attracting diaspora talent.

2. China also leveraged digital financial inclusion by integrating AI into mobile payments and lending platforms. With Africa’s mobile money infrastructure already strong (e.g., M-Pesa), scaling digital finance to directly support entrepreneurs could accelerate indigenous innovation.

3. Through initiatives like Made in China 2025, China has pursued indigenous innovation and self-sufficiency, investing in local chip design, cloud infrastructure, and AI frameworks. Africa, too, must localize its data, develop homegrown AI models, and reduce dependence on foreign technology.

4. The country’s advances in AI for healthcare: diagnostics, wearables, predictive analytics, demonstrate how technology can bridge systemic service gaps. Africa could apply similar solutions to leapfrog chronic shortages in health systems.

5. China’s Digital Silk Road shows how digital exports can extend influence abroad. Africa can flip this approach by creating an African Digital Corridor, exporting its innovations and setting standards based on African values.

6. At the same time, China’s struggles with semiconductors underscore the risks of supply chain dependency. Africa must build resilience through semiconductor R&D, local cloud infrastructure, and open-source software ecosystems.

7. Finally, China shows how standards and regulation can be tools of global influence. By actively shaping AI governance in developing regions, it is carving out international leadership. Africa, through the AU and AfCFTA, can harmonize its own AI standards, strengthening its voice in global digital policy debates. (To be continued).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“Over time I think we will probably see a closer merger of biological intelligence and digital intelligence”. (Elon Musk).

The Oracle

The Oracle: The New Digital Colonialism: Navigating AI Policy Uunder Foreign Tech Dominance (Pt. 3)

Published

1 week ago

March 20, 2026

Eric

By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

The last installment of this intervention traced the evolution of AI, reviewed notable developments in its trajectory; its African dimension and policy trend therein and beyond. This week’s feature goes further afield, reviewing the position in the US, the EU and China. Thereafter we consider the dangers of weak localized and disproportionate influence of foreign technology on African innovation ecosystem. This is followed by a discussion of the issues generated by AI policy and what African States need to do – using Nigeria as an example/template. Enjoy.

USA, EU, CHINA’S PREFERENCES (Continues)

In Africa, the policy landscape is accelerating but uneven. The Global AI Index (www.diplomacy.edu/resource/report-stronger-digital-voices-from-africa/ai-africa-national-policies/ > (Diplomacy.Edu) Accessed on 10th September, 2025) categorizes most African countries as lagging: Egypt, Nigeria and Kenya as nascent, and Morocco, South Africa and Tunisia as waking up (Techpoint Africa, < www.facebook.com/TechpointAfrica/posts/africas-ai-policy-why-a-copy-and-paste-approach-will-fail-this-time-every-countr/1064672189125910/> (Facebook.com, 22nd July, 2025) Accessed on 10th September, 2025). Mauritius led with an AI strategy (Mauritius Artificial Intelligence Strategy, November, 2018 < https://treasury.govmu.org/Documents/Strategies/Mauritius%20AI%20Strategy.pdf > (Treasury.govmu.org) Accessed on 10th September, 2025), followed by Kenya’s AI and blockchain task force (2019) (Kenya Artificial Intelligence Strategy < https://ict.go.ke/sites/default/files/2025-03/Kenya%20AI%20Strategy%202025%20-%202030.pdf > (Ict.go.ke) Accessed on 10th September, 2025), its Digital Master Plan (2022) (Kenya Digital Master Plan, 2022 – 2032 < https://cms.icta.go.ke/sites/default/files/2022-04/Kenya%20Digital%20Masterplan%202022-2032%20Online%20Version.pdf > (Ict.go.ke) Accessed on 10th September, 2025), and Rwanda’s AI policy (Thompson Gyedu Kwarkye, ‘AI policies in Africa: lessons from Ghana and Rwanda’ (TheConversation.com, 25th April, 2025) < https://theconversation.com/ai-policies-in-africa-lessons-from-ghana-and-rwanda-253642 > Accessed on 10th September, 2025), which reflects its national security priorities. Nigeria, Ghana, Uganda, Algeria and South Africa have also announced or drafted
AI policies, often framed around economic growth and innovation.
Continental initiatives, such as the African Union’s Digital Transformation Strategy (African Union, ‘THE DIGITAL TRANSFORMATION STRATEGY FOR AFRICA (2020-2030)’ < https://au.int/sites/default/files/documents/38507-doc-dts-english.pdf > Accessed on 10th September, 2025) and the World Bank’s DE4A program (< www.worldbank.org/en/programs/all-africa-digital-transformation > Accessed on 10th September, 2025), emphasize infrastructure, skills and inclusion, but implementation remains fragmented.

Still, foreign influence looms large. Many African AI and data governance frameworks are modeled directly on external templates, particularly the EU’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) (< https://gdpr.eu/what-is-gdpr/ > Accessed on 10th September, 2025). Nigeria’s NDPR (< https://nitda.gov.ng/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/NDPR-Implementation-Framework.pdf > Accessed on 10th September, 2025), a near copy of the GDPR, introduced concepts like consent, data subject rights and cross-border transfers. While it helped raise awareness and created local compliance industries, it omitted key protections (such as breach notifications, children’s rights and strong enforcement). Similar GDPR-inspired laws have been enacted in Ghana, Kenya and South Africa. This copy-paste strategy provides structure but often lacks localization, leaving gaps in enforcement and contextual fit (Bolu Abiodun ‘Africa’s AI policy: Why a copy and paste approach will fail this time’ (Techpoint.Africa, 22nd July, 2025) < https://techpoint.africa/insight/africas-ai-policy-copy-paste/ > Accessed on 10th September, 2025).
Critics warn that the real problem is not copying but exclusion. As Mozilla’s Kiito Shilongo and other researchers argue, many African AI policies are drafted with heavy input from foreign agencies and consultants, while local communities, startups, and civil society are sidelined. This participatory deficit means policies risk reflecting donor interests more than citizens’ rights. In Rwanda, for example, AI policy was shaped through government agencies and international NGOs with a strong focus on security. Ghana’s was more inclusive, involving startups, academia and telecoms, but leaned toward development goals over safety. Both approaches highlight the political nature of AI policymaking and the different ways foreign partnerships shape outcomes.

DANGERS OF WEAK LOCALIZATION

The consequences of weak localization are serious. AI systems trained abroad often misidentify African faces, misinterpret African languages, and replicate systemic biases, raising concerns about discrimination and digital rights. Yet, while African AI strategies often mention ethics and human rights, we lack the institutions and consultation processes such as the six-month public consultations typical in the EU that make such commitments enforceable. As Shilongo notes, perhaps Africa should copy less of the content of Western frameworks and more of the participatory processes that make them legitimate.

In short, Africa’s AI policy moment reflects both progress and peril: policies are emerging, but without deeper local ownership, institutional capacity and participatory design, we risk entrenching dependency rather than building sovereignty.

DISPROPORTIONATE INFLUENCE OF FOREIGN TECHNOLOGY ON AFRICAN INNOVATION ECOSYSTEMS – REAL LIFE EXAMPLES

The critique of foreign dominance in Africa’s digital space is best illustrated through concrete examples that reveal how global technology companies shape local innovation ecosystems, often in ways that mirror older colonial patterns of extraction and dependency.

Language exclusion: Africa is home to over 2,000 languages (https://alp.fas.harvard.edu/introduction-african-languages > Accessed on 16th September, 2025), around one-third of the world’s total, yet, as of May 2024, Apple’s Siri, Google Assistant and Amazon’s Alexa collectively support none of them. This linguistic exclusion reinforces dependency on foreign platforms while marginalizing African cultures in the digital sphere.

Exploited labour: In 2019, South African graduate Daniel Motaung began work as a content moderator for Sama, a subcontractor for Facebook. Relocated to Kenya, he earned $2.20 per hour to review traumatic content described by colleagues as “mental torture”. When Motaung and others attempted to unionize, he was dismissed and later sued Sama and Facebook for union-busting and exploitation. This case underscores how “responsible outsourcing” in Africa often conceals exploitative labor practices.

Resource extraction: The Democratic Republic of Congo holds nearly half of the world’s known cobalt reserves, vital for powering smartphones and electric cars. In Kolwesi alone, thousands of children reportedly mine cobalt under dangerous conditions, while profits flow largely abroad. Much like colonial resource extraction, Africa provides the raw materials that power global digital economies but sees little local benefit.

Surveillance and bias: In Johannesburg, Vumacam has deployed more than 5,000 CCTV cameras integrated with AI analytics for private security firms. Activists warn that this reliance on facial recognition, already proven to misidentify darker-skinned faces at disproportionately high rates entrenches South Africa’s long history of racialized surveillance. Foreign-designed technologies thus risk reinforcing systemic inequalities under the guise of safety.

Connectivity myths: Mark Zuckerberg’s Internet.org initiative (launched in 2013) was marketed as a philanthropic effort to connect the unconnected. Projects like Free Basics promised free access to online services in over 60 countries. Yet leaked documents revealed that millions of Global South users were secretly charged for “free” data, generating nearly $100 million in 2021 alone. Framed as altruism, these projects extended Facebook’s market reach while extracting revenue from vulnerable populations.

Taken together, these examples reveal how global technology firms, mostly U.S.-based, operate in Africa with strategies that echo colonial logics. They build critical infrastructures (clouds, platforms, connectivity) aligned with their own commercial interests, entrench market monopolies and rely on low-wage labour or raw resource extraction with little local reinvestment. Their technologies often embed cultural and racial biases reflective of narrow developer demographics, yet are exported globally under the banner of “progress,” “development,” or “connecting people.”

As Western jurisdictions strengthen data protection and AI regulation, African countries often remain vulnerable due to weaker frameworks and limited enforcement capacity. This asymmetry creates fertile ground for digital colonialism; a modern-day “Scramble for Africa” where foreign firms extract and control data much like colonial powers once extracted minerals (Danielle Coleman, ‘Digital Colonialism: The 21st Century Scramble for Africa Through Extraction and Control of User Data and the Limitations of Data Protection Laws’ (Law.Umich.Edu) < https://repository.law.umich.edu/mjrl/vol24/iss2/6/ > Accessed on 16th September, 2025). Under the guise of innovation, these companies wield disproportionate influence over African AI and digital ecosystems, shaping policy choices, technical architectures, and even societal norms, while leaving Africa in a position of dependency rather than empowerment.

THE ISSUES GENERATED BY AI POLICY

While global AI policy is advancing through risk-based regulation, ethical standards, and participatory governance, Africa’s AI landscape remains fragmented, heavily modeled on external frameworks, and vulnerable to digital dependency. The disproportionate power of foreign technology companies manifested in many ways including linguistic exclusion, exploitative labour, resource extraction, biased surveillance and deceptive connectivity projects echoes colonial logics of extraction and control. Without decisive intervention, the continent risks entrenching digital colonialism, a new form of dependency in which policy choices, infrastructures and innovation ecosystems are shaped externally, undermining both democratic values and long-term development.

WHAT AFRICAN STATES MUST DO

To avoid replicating historical asymmetries in digital form, African states must assert sovereignty over their AI policies, data governance and digital infrastructures. This requires moving beyond passive adoption toward active regulatory design, investment in local infrastructure (such as data centers, compute resources and research capacity) and strengthening institutional oversight with technically competent regulators. Equally critical is the creation of participatory policy processes that center human rights, economic development, and indigenous innovation. Only by combining legal safeguards, domestic capacity, and strategic partnerships built on equality, not dependence, can Africa transform digital technologies into engines of genuine development rather than renewed extraction.

THE NIGERIAN EXAMPLE: DATA SOVEREIGNTY OR DATA SURRENDER

With the rapid expansion of national digital infrastructure across Nigeria, a far more pressing issue has risen to the fore: the question of who truly owns and governs the data that powers this infrastructure. As digital systems increasingly underpin the delivery of public services, financial transactions, education platforms, health records, and national security functions, data becomes not only a technical asset but a core element of state power. Data sovereignty means that data generated within a country’s borders is governed by that nation’s laws and regulatory frameworks; this ensures local control over data access, storage, and usage (Folashadé Soulé, ‘Digital Sovereignty in Africa: Moving beyond Local Data Ownership’ CIGI (2024) <https://www.cigionline.org/publications/digital-sovereignty-in-africa-moving-beyond-local-data-ownership/> Accessed on the 14th of June, 2025.). It has become a critical aspect of national policy and governance. In Nigeria, this issue has grown increasingly complex, particularly in light of the pervasive presence of foreign cloud providers, offshore data processors, and international technology firms that collect, process, and sometimes export Nigerian user data without clear or enforceable jurisdictional frameworks.

Foreign digital platforms have historically played a central role in the Nigerian data ecosystem either as providers of essential services like email, storage, and analytics, or as developers of social media and financial applications used daily by millions of Nigerians (Fola Odufuwa et al., ‘Digital Technology Adoption by Microenterprises: Nigeria Report’ (2024) <https://www.researchgate.net/publication/383202125_Digital_Technology_Adoption_by_Microenterprises_Nigeria_Report> Accessed on the 14th of June, 2025.). While these platforms often promise global connectivity and technical sophistication, they also introduce serious risks. Data generated within Nigeria is frequently routed through foreign servers, stored in jurisdictions with significantly different privacy protections, and subjected to external political and commercial interests (Patrick Aloamaka, ‘DATA PROTECTION AND PRIVACY CHALLENGES IN NIGERIA: LESSONS FROM OTHER JURISDICTIONS’ UCC Law Journal (2023) 3 (1).). This dislocation of Nigerian data is what scholars term extraterritorial data flow which raises serious questions about control, privacy, and national security. The potential misuse of this data, whether for commercial exploitation, surveillance, or even geopolitical leverage, makes the issue of domestic data governance all the more urgent. (To be continued).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“Over time I think we will probably see a closer merger of biological intelligence and digital intelligence”. (Elon Musk).

The Oracle

The Oracle: The New Digital Colonialism: Navigating AI Policy Under Foreign Tech Dominance (Pt. 2)

Published

2 weeks ago

March 13, 2026

Eric

By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

The inaugural installment of this piece was necessarily foundational, providing the background to the emergence of AI; how it transformed the digital space; applicable regulatory frameworks; its algorithimic transparency/accountability; its ethical dimensions and implications and the threat of foreign tech dominance/digital colonialism. This sophomore edition traces the evolution of AI; notable developments; the history of technological dependency in Africa and policy trends in the continent and beyond. Enjoy.

THE EVOLUTION OF AI

AI has progressed from rule-based systems to machine learning and deep learning models capable of autonomous decision-making. Applications range from healthcare diagnostics to autonomous vehicles, predictive policing, and financial algorithms. While AI enhances productivity, concerns arise over:

Job displacement due to automation. (Brynjolfsson, E., & McAfee, A. (2014). The Second Machine Age: Work, Progress, and Prosperity in a Time of Brilliant Technologies. W. W. Norton & Company).

Surveillance capitalism, where personal data is exploited for profit.

Algorithmic governance, where AI influences public policy without sufficient oversight (O’Neil, C. (2016). Weapons of Math Destruction. Crown Publishing.). The conceptual origins of Artificial Intelligence (AI) can be traced to the mid-20th century, when pioneering figures such as Alan Turing and John McCarthy began to explore the possibility of creating machines capable of simulating human intelligence. Turing’s seminal 1950 paper, “Computing Machinery and Intelligence,” posed the provocative question, “Can machines think?”—a question that laid the philosophical groundwork for modern AI research. (Turing, Alan M. “Computing Machinery and Intelligence.” Mind 59, no. 236 (1950): 433–460.) McCarthy, who coined the term “artificial intelligence” in 1956, convened the historic Dartmouth Conference, widely considered the birth of AI as a formal field of inquiry (McCarthy, John et al., “A Proposal for the Dartmouth Summer Research Project on Artificial Intelligence,” (1955).

EARLY ASPIRATIONS AND TECHNOLOGICAL MILESTONES

Early AI efforts focused on symbolic logic, rule-based systems, and expert systems, which relied on hand-coded rules to simulate decision-making processes. These systems, while limited in scope, found application in fields such as medical diagnostics (e.g., MYCIN) and chess-playing algorithms. The emergence of machine learning in the late 20th century—particularly supervised learning techniques—ushered in a new era in which machines could learn patterns from data rather than rely solely on pre-programmed rules.
The exponential growths in computing power, availability of big data, and algorithmic innovation have since culminated in what many scholars refer to as the “AI revolution.”

NOTABLE DEVELOPMENTS

Notable developments include deep learning techniques powered by artificial neural networks, natural language processing exemplified by large language models (LLMs), and computer vision systems that rival or exceed human performance in specific domains (LeCun, Yann, Bengio, Yoshua, and Hinton, Geoffrey. “Deep Learning.” Nature 521, no. 7553 (2015): 436–444).

FROM AUTOMATION TO AUTONOMY

AI has transitioned from automating repetitive tasks to performing complex cognitive functions previously thought to be the exclusive domain of humans. Self-driving cars, AI legal assistants, autonomous drones, and AI-generated art demonstrate the breadth of AI’s applications. As these systems grow in sophistication, they increasingly exhibit autonomy—the capacity to make decisions and take actions without direct human intervention. This shift raises profound questions about accountability, transparency, and control.

ACCOUNTABILITY, TRANSPERENCY AND CONTROL

For example, autonomous weapons systems capable of selecting and engaging targets without human oversight challenge existing norms under international humanitarian law (IHL). Similarly, AI systems deployed in judicial or parole decisions raise concerns about bias, fairness, and due process, especially when the logic behind decisions is opaque even to their developers—a phenomenon referred to as the “black box problem.” (Pasquale, Frank. The Black Box Society: The Secret Algorithms That Control Money and Information. Harvard University Press, 2015).

HISTORY OF TECHNOLOGICAL DEPENDENCY IN AFRICA

The critique that digital technologies embody, enable, or reproduce colonial power relations is not new. As early as the 1970s, debates around communication and technology were linked to questions of sovereignty, inequality and dependency. In March 1976, at the Non-Aligned Media Seminar in Tunis, representatives from 38 NAM states and 13 observers declared that “colonialist, imperialist and racist powers have created effective means of information and communication which are conditioning the masses to the interests of these powers.” This seminar built on earlier efforts of the Non-Aligned Movement (est. 1955), which, by its 1973 Algiers summit, had embraced the decolonization of information, communication, and culture as part of the wider struggle for independence.

The Tunis meeting marked the birth of the New World Information and Communication Order (NWICO); a call to redress global inequalities in media ownership, information flows, and infrastructure. Tunisian minister Mustapha Masmoudi highlighted the imbalance: “Almost 80 percent of the world news flow emanates from the major transnational agencies; however these devote only 20 to 30 percent of news coverage to the developing countries”. NWICO gained traction at UNESCO, culminating in the 1980 MacBride Report, which directly challenged the Western doctrine of “free flow of information.” The United States and the UK eventually withdrew from UNESCO in protest, but NWICO left a lasting intellectual and political legacy: it framed global communication as a site of structural inequality and technological dependency.

Building on these debates, communication scholars introduced the idea of electronic colonialism. Herbert Schiller’s Mass Communication and American Empire argued that U.S. commercial media systems were becoming instruments of empire. Thomas McPhail later extended this, defining electronic colonialism as “the dependent relationship of poorer regions on post-industrial nations, caused and established by the importation of communication hardware and foreign-produced software, along with engineers, technicians and related information protocols” (Jacob Mahlangu, ‘Technological Apartheid: The Digital Divide Between Africa and the West’ (Sagepub.com, 6th May, 2025) < https://advance.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.31124/advance.174652029.93416488/v1#:~:text=The%20digital%20divide%20between%20Africa%20and%20the%20West%20represents%20not,colonialism%2C%20and%20contemporary%20digital%20imperialism). This lens made clear that dependency was not only economic but also infrastructural and epistemic.

Parallel critiques arose in anthropology and development studies. Post-development theorists such as Arturo Escobar and James Ferguson argued that development projects often failed to empower but instead re-entrenched colonial hierarchies. They identified technology as a key tool in this process, framed as a “solution” but often deployed in paternalistic ways that deepened dependency. ICT4D (Information and Communication Technologies for Development) initiatives of the late 1990s and early 2000s exemplified this tension. While promising to democratize knowledge and spur development, many projects replicated older patterns: reliance on imported technology, disregard for local context, and reinforcement of global asymmetries.

By the late 2000s, scholars in postcolonial computing extended these critiques to human–computer interaction (HCI). They demonstrated how design practices in “development tech” mirrored colonial flows: low-cost labor and raw materials from the Global South, transformed into finished products exported back under narratives of benevolence. The One Laptop Per Child (OLPC) project (< https://laptop.org/ > Accessed on 16th September, 2025) epitomized this, marketed as a humanitarian innovation but dependent on the feminized labour of Asian workers in global supply chains.

In 2013, Dal Yong Jin introduced platform imperialism, analyzing how U.S. tech giants like Google, Apple and Facebook exerted global dominance through platform capitalism, intellectual property regimes and cross-border expansion (Jin, Dal Yong, ‘“The Construction of Platform Imperialism in the Globalization Era.” Triple C: Communication, Capitalism & Critique. Open Access Journal For a Global Sustainable Information Society’ ( Researchgate.net, January, 2013) < https://researchgate.net/publication/275652379_Jin_Dal_Yong_2013_The_Construction_of_Platform_Imperialism_in_the_Globalization_Era_Triple_C_Communication_Capitalism_Critique_Open_Access_Journal_For_a_Global_Sustainable_Information_Society_111_145-#:~:text=Abstract,accumulation%20in%20the%20digital%20age. > Accessed on 16th September, 2025). His argument made explicit that digital platforms were not neutral infrastructures but instruments of geopolitical power.

These intellectual trajectories resonate strongly with dependency theory, advanced by Samir Amin, which argued that underdevelopment in the Global South is not accidental but structurally produced through dependence on the North. Applied to technology, this means Africa’s reliance on imported hardware, software, and infrastructures reinforces systemic subordination in the global digital hierarchy. Postcolonial thinkers like Frantz Fanon and Edward Said similarly highlighted how colonialism survives in cultural, psychological, and technological forms, keeping the Global South positioned as consumer rather than producer.

From NWICO to electronic colonialism, from ICT4D critiques to postcolonial computing and platform imperialism, the throughline is clear: each era has witnessed renewed forms of technological dependency. What changes are the technologies themselves: satellites, mass media, ICTs, platforms, and now AI, but the structural critique persists. Today’s debates on digital colonialism continue this intellectual lineage, reframing old concerns around sovereignty, extraction and dependency in terms of data, algorithms and artificial intelligence. Far from a rupture, this is the latest chapter in a long struggle for technological self-determination in Africa and the wider Global South.

AI POLICY TRENDS GLOBALLY AND IN AFRICA

Global AI policy is crystallizing around a few core themes: risk-based regulation of high-impact systems, the embedding of human rights (< https://2021-2025.state.gov/risk-management-profile-for-ai-and-human-rights/#:~:text=In%20March%202024%2C%20all%20193,the%20enjoyment%20of%20human%20rights.%E2%80%9D > (State.gov, 25th July, 2024) Accessed on 10th September, 2025) and ethics principles, and the development of technical standards to operationalize trustworthiness. The European Union’s AI (https://digital-strategy.ec.europa.eu/en/policies/regulatory-framework-ai > Accessed on 10th September, 2025) Act illustrates this risk-based approach by classifying systems according to potential harm and imposing proportionate obligations, while still promoting innovation. Similarly, the OECD AI Principles (< https://oecd.ai/en/ai-principles > (OECD.ai) Accessed on 10th September, 2025), the NIST AI Risk Management Framework (US) (< www.nist.gov/itl/ai-risk-management-framework > (NIST.gov) Accessed on 10th September, 2025), and UNESCO’s global AI ethics recommendations (< www.unesco.org/en/artificial-intelligence/recommendation-ethics#:~:text=Recommendation%20on%20the%20Ethics%20of%20Artificial%20Intelligence,human%20oversight%20of%20AI%20systems. > (UNESCO.Org) Accessed on 10th September, 2025) provide international benchmarks centered on transparency, accountability, robustness, and human oversight.

USA, EU, CHINA’S PREFERENCES

National strategies, however, diverge. The United States favours voluntary, sector-specific frameworks to preserve innovation flexibility (Tatevik Davtyan, ‘THE U.S. APPROACH TO AI REGULATION: FEDERAL LAWS, POLICIES, AND STRATEGIES EXPLAINED’ (scholarlycommons.law.case.edu, 24th January, 2025) < https://scholarlycommons.law.case.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?params=/context/jolti/article/1172/&path_info=auto_convert.pdf > Accessed on 10th September, 2025). China pursues a state-driven, techno-industrial strategy linking AI to national development goals(Kyle Chan, Gregory Smith, Jimmy Goodrich, Gerard Dipippo, Konstantin F, Pilz ‘China’s Evolving Industrial Policy for AI’ (Rand.org, 26th June, 2025) < www.rand.org/pubs/perspectives/PEA4012-1.html > Accessed on 10th September, 2025). The EU relies on its regulatory power (“the Brussels effect”) to set global supplier standards (Marco Almada, Anca Radu, ‘The Brussels Side-Effect: How the AI Act Can Reduce the Global Reach of EU Policy’ (Cambridge.org, 19th February, 2024) < www.cambridge.org/core/journals/german-law-journal/article/brussels-sideeffect-how-the-ai-act-can-reduce-the-global-reach-of-eu-policy/032C72AEC537EBB6AE96C0FD90387E3E > Accessed on 10th September, 2025). Together, these approaches create a patchwork of norms that countries and companies must navigate. (To be continued).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“Like all technologies before it, Artificial Intelligence will reflect the values of its creators. So inclusivity matters – from who designs it to who sits on the company boards and which ethical perspectives are included” – Kate Crawford