How Foreign Industrial Fishing is Sinking African Livelihoods

Along the coastlines of Africa, from the bustling beaches of Senegal to the estuaries of Kenya, the ocean has sustained generations of coastal communities. For millions of artisanal fishermen, small-scale fishing is far more than a job; it is a cultural heritage, a primary source of affordable protein, and the economic backbone of entire towns. However, this way of life is facing an existential crisis. The rapid expansion of foreign industrial commercial fishing fleets—primarily from East Asia and Europe—has triggered a severe ecological and economic collapse. Through overexploitation, illegal practices, and lopsided trade agreements, foreign industrial trawlers are systematically stripping African waters of their marine wealth, leaving local fishermen without a catch, an income, or a future. 

Ecological Destruction and Stock Depletion

The core driver of the crisis is the sheer scale and destructiveness of industrial fishing technology compared to traditional methods. While local fishermen venture out in wooden canoes using handlines and small nets, foreign distant-water fleets deploy massive bottom trawlers and purse seiners capable of scooping up in a single day what a local village catches in a year. Bottom trawling drags heavy, weighted nets across the ocean floor, indiscriminately scooping up marine life and destroying critical breeding habitats like coral reefs and seagrass beds. This relentless extraction has pushed vital fish stocks to the brink of collapse. In West Africa—the epicenter of global illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing—catches of small pelagic fish like sardinella have plummeted. In Ghana alone, total catches of these staple fish dropped by nearly 60% over a few decades. Because industrial vessels operate with high-tech sonar and massive storage capacities, local fishermen are forced to travel farther out to sea in fragile, unequipped canoes, risking their lives for increasingly empty nets. 

Direct Conflict and Economic Marginalisation

Beyond depleting the ocean, foreign industrial fleets actively encroach upon the economic space of local fishers. Most African coastal nations designate an inshore exclusion zone—typically extending three to six nautical miles from the shore—exclusively for artisanal canoes. Yet, weak maritime surveillance and corruption allow foreign trawlers to routinely breach these boundaries. Incursions into inshore zones frequently result in industrial ships slicing through the nets and smashing the wooden boats of local fishermen, destroying expensive gear that took families years to finance. 

Furthermore, the economic ecosystem surrounding local fishing is being dismantled on land. Across countries like The Gambia and Senegal, foreign-backed fishmeal and fish oil (FMFO) factories have sprung up along the coast. These plants buy up massive quantities of juvenile fish, grinding them into feed for aquaculture farms in Europe and Asia. This practice starves local markets of affordable fish and devastates the livelihoods of local women, who traditionally dominate the processing, smoking, and selling of the daily catch. The financial toll is staggering: West Africa loses billions of dollars annually to illegal fishing, while the average annual income of artisanal canoes in places like Ghana has fallen by up to 40%. 

Governance Failures and Social Fallout 

The persistence of this exploitation stems from a combination of asymmetrical international agreements and weak domestic enforcement. Cash-strapped governments often sign lopsided Fisheries Partnership Agreements, selling access to their waters for a fraction of the actual market value of the exported catch.

Additionally, many foreign operators exploit regulatory loopholes by registering their ships under local flags—a practice known as "flagging in"—or using local front companies to bypass bans on foreign ownership. The human cost of this economic displacement ripples far beyond the shoreline. As fish become scarce and prohibitively expensive, coastal populations suffer from widespread food insecurity and "hidden hunger" caused by a lack of essential micronutrients. Stripped of their livelihoods and seeing no viable economic alternatives, thousands of young African fishermen have been driven to desperation. In Senegal and The Gambia, the collapse of the fishing industry has directly fuelled irregular migration, pushing former fishermen to risk their lives crossing the perilous Atlantic route to Europe in the very same wooden canoes they once used to feed their communities. 

Conclusion

 

Foreign industrial commercial fishing in African waters represents a modern tragedy of the commons, where short-term global profit is prioritised over long-term local survival. By decimating marine ecosystems, destroying local equipment, and diverting vital food supplies to foreign markets, distant-water fleets are robbing African coastal communities of their primary livelihood. Reversing this tide requires decisive action: African governments must strengthen maritime patrols, enforce inshore exclusion zones, cancel predatory licensing deals, and prioritise sustainable, community-led fisheries management. Without urgent intervention, the centuries-old tradition of African artisanal fishing risks being swept away entirely.

How Asymmetrical Trade Between Europe and Africa Fuels Irregular Migration

Irregular migration from Africa to Europe is frequently framed in European political discourse as a crisis of border security or a consequence of domestic governance failures within African states. While political instability, demographic shifts, and climate change undoubtedly contribute to human mobility, a critical yet often overlooked driver lies in the structural asymmetries of international trade. Far from being an isolated phenomenon, irregular migration is deeply rooted in historical and contemporary trade practices between the European Union (EU) and African nations. By dismantling protective tariffs, flooding local markets with subsidised goods, and restricting African value-added exports, asymmetrical trade agreements systematically erode local livelihoods—creating the very economic desperation that compels thousands to risk their lives crossing the Mediterranean.

At the heart of this dynamic is the "import flooding" facilitated by Economic Partnership Agreements  (EPAs) between the EU and African countries. Market-opening commitments under these agreements are legally binding, requiring African nations to eliminate tariffs on a substantial majority of European imports while restricting their ability to use protective industrial tools like export taxes or local-content rules. Consequently, nascent African manufacturing and agricultural sectors are exposed to direct competition from vastly more capitalised European industries. For example, in West Africa, domestic poultry and tomato farmers have been devastated by the influx of cheap, frozen European chicken cuts and heavily processed tomato paste. Unable to compete with artificially low prices, local producers are forced out of business. When rural agricultural economies collapse, displaced farmers and unemployed youth initially migrate to overcrowded African urban centers before ultimately turning toward irregular pathways to Europe in search of viable livelihoods.

This market distortion is compounded by European domestic agricultural policies, notably the Common Agricultural Policy (CAP). Although the EU officially phased out direct export subsidies over the past decade, European agribusinesses continue to receive billions of euros in direct income support, accounting for a significant portion of farm revenue. This state-backed cushioning allows European producers to export surplus commodities—such as milk powder fortified with vegetable fats—to African markets at prices below the local cost of production. While European consumers benefit from lower food costs and European agribusinesses secure profitable external markets, the long-term consequence in Africa is the structural underdevelopment of domestic food systems. Deprived of the ability to sustain themselves through agriculture—the largest employer across the continent—young Africans face a stark lack of economic alternatives.

Simultaneously, while African markets are pressured to remain open to European finished goods, African exporters encounter formidable barriers when attempting to enter the European single market. The EU enforces stringent non-tariff barriers, including complex sanitary and phytosanitary standards, strict pesticide limits, and emerging environmental compliance frameworks. Furthermore, tariff escalation remains a persistent obstacle: raw African commodities such as cocoa beans, coffee, and crude oil enter Europe with minimal or zero duties, whereas processed goods like chocolate, roasted coffee, or refined petroleum face significantly higher tariffs. This structure locks African economies into the bottom rung of global value chains as exporters of unprocessed raw materials and importers of high-value manufactured products. By stifling local industrialisation and job creation, these trade rules directly undermine the economic diversification needed to absorb Africa's rapidly growing youth population.

Ultimately, this reveals a profound contradiction in European foreign policy. On one hand, Brussels invests heavily in border externalization, maritime patrols, and development aid aimed at addressing the "root causes" of irregular migration. On the other hand, its trade policies actively dismantle the economic foundations required for Africans to thrive at home. Research from institutions such as King's College London highlights this exact paradox, demonstrating that premature trade liberalisation acts as a direct push factor for migration. Moreover, when legal labor migration pathways for low- and medium-skilled workers remain heavily restricted, displaced workers are left with few choices beyond engaging smuggling networks to navigate perilous desert and sea routes.

In conclusion, irregular migration from Africa to Europe cannot be resolved through border securitization alone, as walls and patrols do not eliminate the economic desperation driving human movement. Unfair trading practices—characterised by asymmetric free trade agreements, subsidised agricultural exports, and barriers to African value addition—have systematically hollowed out key sectors of African economies. True cooperation requires aligning trade policy with development goals: granting African states the policy space to protect emerging industries, eliminating trade-distorting subsidies, and supporting regional integration initiatives like the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). Only when trade between Europe and Africa is built on genuine reciprocity and mutual benefit will the economic pressures fueling irregular migration begin to subside.

The Global Village on My Screen: A Thank You to My Readers

Eleven years is a long time to leave a room dark. When I walked away from this blog over a decade ago, I didn't know if I would ever turn the lights back on. Writing is an act of vulnerability; it requires pouring out your thoughts, your quirks, and your rawest reflections into a vast, unpredictable digital ether. After such a prolonged pause, stepping back into this space felt less like returning home and more like exploring a forgotten ruin. I wondered if the foundation we built had crumbled, or worse, if the world had simply moved on.

But you were waiting.

Since I hit "publish" again, something extraordinary has happened. The visitor metrics on my dashboard haven't just recovered; they have skyrocketed. Day after day, I watch the analytics climb to heights that completely eclipse the numbers from the peak of my writing eleven years ago. It is a staggering, humbling sight.

What moves me most, however, isn’t the sheer volume of the data—it is where that data lives. When I look at the map of where you are all reading from, I see a vibrant, interconnected global village. You are logging on from bustling cities, quiet rural towns, different time zones, and completely diverse walks of life across the globe. Despite the geographic oceans between us, we are meeting right here, sharing the same words and experiencing the same ideas.

To every single one of you who has clicked, read, commented, or quietly shared my work from your corner of the world: you have validated my return.

Your overwhelming presence has proven to me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that stepping back into this arena was the right thing to do. You didn't just welcome me back; you threw the doors wide open. By showing up in far greater numbers than I ever could have anticipated, you have given me something far more valuable than traffic. You have given me a profound sense of purpose.

Pouring one’s thoughts out into the world can sometimes feel like shouting into a void. But your engagement, your views, and your global community have transformed that void into a crowded, warm, and deeply encouraging room. You are the reason I open my laptop each day. You are the purpose behind every sentence I craft.

Thank you for listening, thank you for growing this space into something bigger than it ever was before, and thank you for giving me a reason to keep writing. The pause is officially over, and because of you, the best chapters are still ahead.

Nyiragongo

Mount Nyiragongo is an active stratovolcano in the Democratic Republic of Congo that contains the world's largest and most fluid active lava lake.

• Location: Virunga National Park, about 12 kilometres north of the city of Goma.

• Elevation: 3,470 metres (11,385 feet).

• Crater: The main crater is roughly two kilometers wide and holds a massive, churning pool of molten rock.

The Mount Nyiragongo lava lake is the largest semi-permanent pool of liquid magma on Earth. Suspended inside the volcano's massive two-kilometre-wide summit crater, it acts as a direct, open window into the Earth's mantle. The surface of the lake is covered by a dark, semi-solid crust of cooled rock. Driven by intense heat from a deep mantle plume, these solid plates constantly fracture, slide, and sink, revealing bright orange rivers of liquid magma underneath.

The level of the lake is never static. Magma pressures below cause the lake to rise and fall hundreds of meters over months or years. Volcanologists describe the inflating and deflating of the mountain as the "earth breathing"

The most dangerous characteristic of Nyiragongo's lava lake is that it sits significantly higher than the surrounding landscape. The main crater acts like a giant bowl holding millions of cubic meters of ultra-fluid magma.

When tectonic stress or seismic activity causes the crustal walls to fracture, the lake can drain completely in less than an hour. Instead of overflowing the rim, the lava punches through fissures on the volcano's flanks, racing downhill at speeds of up to 100 km/h directly toward the city of Goma. This rapid draining caused the catastrophic eruptions of 1977, 2002, and 2021.

Unlike volcanoes that explode upward, Nyiragongo’s primary hazard stems from fissures opening on its slopes, causing its massive lava lake to rapidly drain like an emptied basin. The most recent major disaster occurred when the volcano erupted with virtually no seismic warning signs. 

• Fractures opened along the volcano's southern flanks. Millions of cubic metres of highly fluid lava drained from the summit crater lake within hours.

• Human Impact: The lava advanced in two streams—one toward the Rwandan border and another directly south toward Goma. It incinerated entire neighbourhoods, destroyed over 3,600 homes, and killed at least 32 people (some from direct contact with lava, others from toxic gas asphyxiation).

• The Mass Evacuation: In the days following the initial flow, heavy secondary earthquakes rocked the region. Fearing a secondary flow or a limnic eruption from nearby Lake Kivu, authorities ordered a forced evacuation, displacing 400,000 residents.

Mount Nyiragongo’s intense activity is driven by a divergent plate boundary where the African continent is literally tearing itself apart.

Specifically, it sits within the Albertine Rift (the western branch of the East African Rift System), where the massive Nubian Plate and the Somalian Plate are pulling away from each other.

The Rift Mechanics Powering Nyiragongo

• Continental Rifting: As the Nubian and Somalian plates pull apart, the Earth's crust stretches, thins, and fractures. This tension drops the pressure on the underlying mantle, causing it to melt and form magma.

• Deep-Seated Mantle Plume: Beneath this tearing crust lies a thermal mantle plume (a hotspot of upwelling intense heat). This plume superheats the thinning lithosphere, forcing highly specialised magma to the surface.

• Fissure-Controlled Plumbing: Because the rift valley floor is heavily fractured by tectonic fault lines, magma does not just exit through the main peak. During major rifting adjustments, the volcano's flanks rip open along these fault lines, causing the lava lake to drain rapidly through low-altitude fissures.

Unique Magma Chemistry

The tectonic mechanics of the East African Rift give Nyiragongo’s lava a rare chemical footprint:

• Ultra-Low Silica: The magma originates from incredibly deep within the mantle and rises rapidly through the thinned rift crust without absorbing much silica (quartz) from continental rocks.

• Water-Like Fluidity: Low silica content means the lava has a very low viscosity. When a tectonic fracture opens the mountain, this fluid lava flows almost like water, creating a severe hazard for the nearby city of Goma.

If the East African Rift System continues to widen, it will fundamentally transform the geography of Africa, splitting the continent into two distinct landmasses and forming Earth's sixth ocean.

While tectonic plates move at a slow rate of roughly 5 to 7 millimeters per year, scientists estimate that this process could reach a full continental breakup within 5 to 10 million years.

This geological transformation will reshape the globe through several major geographic changes:

The Birth of a New Ocean Basin

As the Somali Plate (in the east) and the Nubian Plate (in the west) pull away from each other, the continental crust stretches and thins out. Over millions of years, the floor of the Great Rift Valley will drop low enough to slide below sea level. Eventually, seawater from the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden will breach the low-lying Afar Depression. This water will flood down the length of the rift, creating a long, narrow sea that will eventually widen into a new ocean.

A New "Mini-Continent"

The easternmost portion of Africa—often referred to as the Horn of Africa—will detach completely from the mainland. This massive new island or "mini-continent" will drift into the Indian Ocean. It will be composed of:

• All of Somalia

• Large eastern portions of Ethiopia, Kenya, and Tanzania

• The entire geographic tip of the Horn of Africa

New Coastlines for Landlocked Nations

One of the most radical changes will occur on the newly formed coastlines of mainland Africa.

Modern-day landlocked countries located along the western branch of the rift valley will suddenly become coastal nations. Countries like Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Malawi, and Zambia will sit directly on the shores of this new ocean, gaining direct maritime access to global trade routes.

Split Territories

For nations sitting directly on the fault lines, the rifting process will divide their modern borders. Countries like Ethiopia, Kenya, and Tanzania will be split into two pieces. Their western territories will remain attached to the African mainland, while their eastern territories drift away on the new Somali island.

Mount Nyiragongo and the city of Goma

Traditional Ijaw Music

Traditional Ijaw music relies heavily on percussion and rhythm, featuring instruments such as native drums (ịgba), talking drums (opu ozi), wooden gongs, flutes, and shakers/rattles.

Hand-carved wooden drums of varying sizes provide the primary bass and rhythmic foundation for dances and ceremonies. Talking drums are hourglass-shaped tension drums used to mimic speech patterns, convey historical narratives, praise titles, and signal community events. Rattles and shakers are dry seed or bead-filled percussion instruments tied around dancers' ankles or held in hand to add high-frequency counter-rhythms.

Flutes (Otele / Local Whistles): Wooden or bamboo wind instruments used during festivals, boat regattas, and masquerade processions.

Dawoye Egberi is a performance by Ikia Mina Ogbo a socio-cultural and philanthropic organisation for the wives and daughters of Opobo, Rivers State, Nigeria. 

Visit to Fort Portal

The Uganda countryside is very beautiful. Scenic, picturesque, rolling hills carpeted in green with a few rock outcrops the closer one gets to the Rwenzori foothills. Most of the land is cultivated, or in some other form of use. Land that is not cultivated for agriculture is often covered by extensive stretches of purposely planted eucalyptus or pine trees. There is precious little virgin tropical forest, but encountering such forests often offers sightings of baboons and other wild fauna. 

It was quite an interesting road journey, really, between Kampala and Fort Portal. I am in this post attempting to put together my thoughts and observations of, and during, the journey itself when these are still fresh in my memory, so as not to lose them and to capture them for posterity.

The 296km highway itself was fairly good, but rough and uncomfortable on those stretches where the road surface had suffered neglect, and was undergoing maintenance at the same time. So it was a combination of smooth road for a while, massive potholes on different stretches, and then stretches with extensive roadworks disrupting the flow of traffic, with each scenario occurring one after the other. For these reasons the journey was more tedious and took longer than it might have taken otherwise. 

The traffic was composed of ordinary private vehicles like ours, numerous brand new pickup trucks and 4x4s with government numberplates darting at high speed in both directions, many Heavy Goods Vehicles (HGVs), large buses, and smaller commercial vehicles, and also the ubiquitous Uganda motorcycles performing various functions. The motorcycle in Uganda appears to be an institution of its own. To be found everywhere, the motorcycle is undoubtedly the most popular utility vehicle, used for the transport of everything; from mattresses, to roofing sheets; from crates of soft drinks (colloquially known as "sodas") to entire families; the motorcycle is a fixture on the Ugandan road. The sight of a 5,000 litre polyurethane water tank balanced precariously on the passenger seat of a motorcycle was a sight for the ages.

These photos are of breathtakingly beautiful tea plantations in Kabarole District that I shakingly managed to capture with my phone as we approached Fort Portal, photos from a moving vehicle that do not do justice to just how spectacularly scenic the views truly were. Kabarole District itself, which is part of the Tooro Kingdom, had Fort Portal as its main town before 1 July, 2020, when Fort Portal was elevated to a city, and separated from Kabarole District. In that year, Fort Portal Municipality constituency became the Fort Portal City with an independent local government. The trip from Kampala to Fort Portal had us pass through towns like Mityana and Mubende. 

Fort Portal is covered in bunting for the new king's coronation tomorrow. Yep, I caught sight of the Rwenzori Mountain Range from a distance, but we're hoping tomorrow to move closer to it to get a better look. We're hitched up for the night in some hotel, but tomorrow we won't be hanging around for the coronation. After viewing the mountains, we intend to visit some hot springs, then some caves, and then drive over to Bunyoro to visit the Murchison Falls National Park. 

The streets of Fort Portal are very busy, but it's not clear if the streets are so busy this evening because of tomorrow's coronation. We went to see the Omukama's Palace, which is located on the top of a hill, and with visions in my mind's eye of the famous Princess Elizabeth of Tooro directing preparations for tomorrow's events. As I'm typing this while lying back in my hotel room, it's close to midnight. I realise that I was awoken from my sleep by a loud uproar across the city. I looked out of the window and on the street in front of me, in the darkness I saw a large procession of people singing and dancing in unison, moving in the direction of the palace. *I heard after I woke up in the morning that the procession was of the new king himself surrounded by supporters as he walked the four miles to the palace. So I inadvertently stumbled into a royal coronation in real life.*

Day's end tomorrow should see us back in Kampala. (It didn't, and it was not until two weeks later that I made it to Murchison).

Okay, so I woke in the middle of the night to type this. As I said, I did not want the thoughts to fade away. I have to go back to sleep now, tomorrow promises to be an even busier day, after which I shall have more to report. 

Postcript: I posted this contemporaneously on Facebook at the time, and then thought to share it again here on the blog.

Murchison Falls National Park, The Victoria Nile (Side note)

The Victoria Nile

At this point the Victoria Nile having flowed from Lake Victoria through Lake Kyoga and squeezed through the Murchison Falls (also known as Kabalega Falls), then flows onwards to Lake Albert approxiately 32 kilometres (20 miles) downriver. It then emerges as the Albert Nile when it flows out of the northern tip of Lake Albert as it travels north towards South Sudan. The Albert Nile and the Victoria Nile are part of the White Nile system.

I have now seen the rivers Nile, Niger, Congo and Zambezi up close. As children we learnt a song titled "The Rivers of Africa", a song that named the continent's main rivers—Nile, Niger, Senegal, Congo, Orange, Limpopo, Zambezi. I have also seen the Benue, Gambia, Volta, Chobe, Tana and Mara, the latter two in Kenya. 

As an aside, vertigo has become a recurring problem as I advance in age. It was apparent on this bridge again, just as it had been on the Kazungula Bridge over the Zambezi in Botswana last year. Vertigo is that false sensation that you or your surrounding environment is spinning, whirling, or moving when you are actually still. I almost lost my balance just from looking down at the river from on top of the bridge. 🙃

Murchison Falls National Park (Side note)

I captured this (and a few other shots) with my phone camera while seated in the car.

The Ugandan kob is a subspecies of the kob, and it is one of the most common species of antelope in Murchison. The coat of arms of Uganda features a Ugandan kob alongside a grey crowned crane.

At first glance, the Ugandan kob may be mistaken for the impala, but it is more heavily built. An average male weighs 94kg whilst an average female weighs 63kg.

In Murchison Falls National Park, lions prey on the plentiful supply of Ugandan kobs. We saw many of them, their unique, orangey colour stood out in the brush, even when just resting under a tree in the distance. 

We didn't see any large predators such as hyenas or any of the big cats, but I did explain to my friend that where there are a large number of prey animals, there must be large numbers of predators as well. We did see a herd of giraffes though, Rothschild's giraffes with their coats glowing, reflecting the soft sunlight, but they were too distant to capture properly on camera, although not for want of trying. We also saw a herd of elephants, African Savannah elephants, a family group, but also from a distance; and water buffalo mucking about in a mud pool. There were numerous impala too, and gazelles, and all manner of birds. 

The most striking feature for me, however, were the Borassus palm trees also known as palmyra palms that dominate the open savannah landscapes of the park's northern sector. The landscape's beauty was truly extraordinary, I had seen nothing like it before.

The Weight of the Closed Suitcase

The suitcase sits half-packed on the edge of the bed, a physical boundary between two entirely different states of existence. Outside the window, the sun is still warm, casting long, golden afternoon shadows across a landscape that has spent the last one month feeling effortless and slow. Inside the room, however, the psychological climate has already shifted. The holiday is not yet officially over, yet the mind has quietly abandoned the present, slipping ahead down the highway, past the airport gates, and straight into the grey, uncompromising machinery of everyday life.

There is a distinct, melancholic weight to this mental transition. During a holiday, time loses its sharp edges. Days are measured not by alarms or deadlines, but by the heat of the midday sun, the rhythm of your friends' moods, or the casual drift of an unplanned afternoon. Yet, as the final evening approaches, a subtle cognitive gravity takes over. The brain begins its defensive rehearsal for reality, pulling up unread email queues, doctor's appointments, and the domestic chores that have been left to gather dust in quiet defiance. The washing machine at home broke down before I made my escape, now I'm going to have to confront the reality of dealing with that problem the moment I return. Escapism is valid only for so long after all. 

Compounding this re-entry is the looming shadow of the season left behind—or rather, the season waiting ahead. To return from warmth and ease to the onset of winter, is a double displacement. It is the psychological shock of trading open horizons for sealed windows and the abrupt decent of pitch dark four-o'clock afternoons; the vibrant textures of travel for the muffled, monochromatic silence of cold months. The impending winter feels less like a natural change in the weather and more like a closing trapdoor. The mind projects forward into the chill, bracing itself for heavy coats, scraped windscreens, and the general hibernation of the human spirit.

And yet, this bittersweet ache is perhaps what gives a holiday its value in the first place. If leisure stretched out indefinitely without contrast, it would eventually lose its lustre; it is the impending return to the mundane that casts such a vivid, hyper-saturated glow over the final hours of escape. Standing in the quiet room with the zip half-pulled, one realises that the resistance to going back is proof of having been fully present.

The mundane tasks at home—the laundry, the mail, the early alarms—will inevitably be absorbed and conquered, just as they always are. For tonight, however, the mind lingers in the threshold, holding onto the warmth of the sun just a moment longer before turning towards the cold. 

Murchison Falls

A visit to Uganda’s Murchison Falls National Park is an unforgettable journey into the heart of wild East Africa. Located in northwestern Uganda about 300 kilometres from Kampala, the 3,840-square-kilometre reserve is Uganda’s largest and oldest national park, offering a dramatic mix of sweeping savannahs, palm-dotted plains, and the mighty Victoria Nile.

The adventure begins long before you enter the park gates. Driving northwest from Kampala, the road passes through changing Ugandan landscapes—bustling small towns, green banana plantations. In my head I was travelling from Buganda to Bunyoro, two of Uganda's oldest and most influential traditional kingdoms. As you approach Masindi that served as a royal capital or stronghold for past kings of Bunyoro like Omukama Kabalega during the 19th century, and descend the Bunyoro escarpment, the air grows warm and smells of sun-baked earth and wild grass. The sheer scale of the park hits you immediately as you cross into the sprawling savannah.

The climax of the trip is the waterfall itself. Here, the entire Victoria Nile forces its way through a narrow rock gap just seven metres wide and plunges 43 metres down into the "Devil’s Cauldron". The roar is deafening, shaking the ground beneath your feet and throwing a cool, permanent rainbow mist into the air. Hiking to the top of the falls allows you to feel the raw, untamed energy of the planet's most powerful waterfall.

Leaving Murchison Falls leaves a lasting impression—a rare place where the rhythm of wild Africa continues largely untouched.

 

Generational Dehumanisation

Generations of systemic dehumanisation during colonialism and apartheid continue to profoundly impact the behaviours, psychological well-being, and social dynamics of Black South Africans today. While South Africa transitioned to democracy more than three decades ago, sociologists, psychologists, and historians emphasise that the legacy of treating Black citizens as "sub-human" left deep, intergenerational scars.

Apartheid was a system maintained through state-sanctioned physical and psychological violence. When communities are stripped of basic human rights, dignity, and economic mobility over generations, violence can become normalised as a survival or coping mechanism. In modern townships (dikas), generational dehumanisation and a lack of economic opportunities directly feed into youth vulnerability to gang violence and crime.

A tragic behavioural byproduct of long-term oppression is horizontal violence—where marginalised groups direct their frustration towards other marginalised groups rather than the structures that oppressed them. In South Africa, this manifests as xenophobia and "black-on-black racism". Dehumanising language once used by white authorities is sometimes repurposed against migrants from other African countries, who are scapegoated for persistent socioeconomic struggles like unemployment.

A Quiet Covenant

For a long-distance couple living in separate lands and in a relationship forbidden by law, the decision to commit anyway is an act of quiet defiance. It is an acknowledgment that true marriage has never belonged to the registrar’s desk or the stamp of a bureaucrat; it is a living, breathing promise forged soul-to-soul.

Society often mistakes the shell for the substance. We treat the ceremony, the marriage certificate, and the public declaration as the origin of a bond, as if a piece of paper suddenly infuses two separate lives with meaning. Yet, legal recognition is a convenience of the modern state. For those separated by thousands of miles, the absence of a legal framework strips away all the superficiality. There is only the naked weight of a choice: "I choose you, across every mile, despite every obstacle or restriction".

This kind of commitment transforms distance from a barrier into a crucible. It requires an extraordinary act of faith to bind your future to someone you might only hold in your arms for a few weeks out of the year—and to do so knowing that the law of the land refuses to see you. Yet, that very invisibility can deepen the internal reality of the bond. 

To love across forbidden borders is to understand that freedom is not always granted from the top down; sometimes, it is practiced in private. The couple who commits in spite of the law redefines legitimacy; they strip marriage down to its elemental truth: an unwavering pledge of loyalty, and shared destiny. 

While the world may demand a certificate to quantify a relationship, the human heart knows a deeper arithmetic. Distance may test the endurance of the flesh, and hostile laws may threaten the sanction of the state, but a real marriage lives where the rules cannot reach—in the quiet, stubborn certainty that two people belong to each other.

A Profound Privilege

Stepping into the role of a mentor is a blessing and a profound privilege that allows you to pass on wisdom, build confidence, and help others unlock potential they may not yet see in themselves.

Transitioning from a learner to a guide creates a powerful cycle of growth where teaching reinforces your own understanding. 

I hope to be able to help those I mentor set realistic milestones while supporting them through both setbacks and breakthroughs, and offering them constructive truth with empathy and respect.

Good mentors do not build followers; they cultivate confident future leaders who can think for themselves.

The 17-year-old just got into Medical School so he received a congratulatory gift from me, and a pep talk. I've taken on the challenge of guiding him through his journey, to the best of my ability.

Still on my East Africa tour.

A Polite, Deliberate and Respectful Communication Style

The Kalenjin people of East Africa, primarily living in Kenya's Rift Valley, are widely recognised for their polite, deliberate, and respectful communication style. In Kalenjin culture, speaking gently and avoiding unnecessary loudness or aggression is deeply tied to traditional values of humility, self-control, and respect for elders and the community. 

This soft-spoken nature is often observed during social gatherings, traditional dispute resolutions, and everyday interactions, where active listening and maintaining harmony are highly prioritised.

I observed this softspoken nature and its impact, independent of having it confirmed to me after I had brought it up while expressing my observation in a conversation. I found the softspoken nature striking, coming from the background that I come from — softspoken is NOT what Nigerians (of all ethnicities) do. 

I appreciated it, seeing it as a better alternative to the loud abrasiveness that one has been more exposed to. It is beautiful to watch, even if one does not understand the language. The deliberateness with which conflict is kept at bay and everyday interactions are conducted, and potential conflict situations resolved, all with polite comments and smiles. 

I witnessed first-hand where a potential conflict situation was dissolved instantaneously. This was new to me, but this is just the way things are done here.

The Kindness of Strangers: A Testament to Human Connection

For a brief moment I was lost in Kenya. Then humanity showed up.

There is a unique vulnerability in being completely lost in an unfamiliar place. The world feels larger, colder, and distinctly indifferent to your anxiety. I found myself in this exact state of distress recently, standing at a designated meeting point in a strange location where my friend was supposed to be. When I arrived, the landscape was unfamiliar, my friend was nowhere to be found, and my calls to his phone went completely unanswered. In that moment, isolation settled in heavily. I was an outsider, swallowed by a strange environment, with no clear path forward.

It was during this peak of panic that the true beauty of human nature revealed itself. Two local men, total strangers to me, noticed my visible distress. Instead of walking past or ignoring a foreigner in need, they chose to step into my situation. They approached me not with suspicion, but with genuine concern.

Their assistance went far beyond merely offering directions. From the moment they stayed by my side, their presence became an anchor. They spoke to me with calming words, reassuring me that I was not alone and that we would solve this problem together. In a situation where they owed me nothing, they gave me their time, their patience, and their protection. They walked with me, guided me through the unfamiliar terrain, and actively helped me navigate the area until, at long last, I was reunited with my friend.

This experience left a profound mark on me. It serves as a powerful reminder that beneath the divisions of geography, language, and background, there is a shared thread of humanity that connects us all. These two men did not see a stranger to be ignored; they saw a fellow human being in trouble and chose to act with empathy. Their selflessness turned a terrifying ordeal into a beautiful lesson about grace, community, and the quiet heroes who restore our faith in the world. I will carry their kindness in my heart, a reminder to pay that humanity forward whenever I encounter someone lost in their own storm.

Papa, can I assist you?

It was a large backpack, and heavy. I struggled with it, but the idea had been to put most of the heavy items in it to avoid excess baggage charges. The backpack was carry-on baggage that wasn't checked-in as luggage and is therefore not weighed most of the time. This is a tactic travellers use to get around the checked-in luggage weight limit. The checked-in luggage travels in the cargo hold, the carry-on baggage travels in the passenger cabin with you, usually stowed in the overhead bin. 

So it was a large, heavy backpack, but I was sure I could easily manage the weight climbing up the stairs into the aeroplane. I did not realise that it was obvious to onlookers that I was struggling. Then I heard the voice of the flight attendant standing at the top of the stairs, "Papa, can I assist you?", with her hand held out as it to help me up the last few steps. Now, no stranger has ever called me Papa in my life, so the offer of help to a struggling elderly person that was directed at me hit me hard.

This same flight attendant made the point of offering to help me down the stairs after arrival at our destination. Of course her offer of help was kindly refused, both times, I was too proud in both those moments to accept that I may now be a senior person who sometimes might need the help of others to do mundane, everyday things.

The term for it is Age Epiphany —The sudden, sharp cognitive realisation that you have transitioned into an older age bracket or life stage. It is usually triggered by a specific event, or seeing a photograph of yourself.

So, guys, I guess I am now Papa to all of you.

Note from Kampala

We've just been on a drive around Kampala in the early evening as the sun set, and I was taken aback by just how large this city is. This is my second visit to the city in the space of two years, but it has taken this long for me to fully appreciate the city's true size, how spread out it is, and its magnificence. 

Previously, my knowledge of Kampala was limited to the Central Business District, Entebbe Road, (which is the direction towards where I have my lodgings—I'm lodged in the same place as last time); Masaka Road, Bwaise, the Express road from Entebbe, Namirembe, and not much else really. From the Expressway I always saw the roadsign with arrow pointing towards Mulungu, but we often came off the Expressway at the Kajjansi exit, with Mulungu still further forward; mysterious, out-of-reach. This evening that mystery was unravelled. 

I should start by doffing my hat to the architects profession of Kampala. They are doing an amazing job. I'm still picking up pieces of my jaw that dropped to the floor from how awestruck I was just from seeing such dazzling architecture as I did, driving down this road; homes styled and built to such stunning effect, accentuated by a hilly landscape that makes for structures located on a higher elevation at the rear being just as visible as those at the front. It was like a mural of stunning architectural magnificence presented to my visual senses that left me totally stunned, and utterly dumbfounded that I knew nothing about this at all before now. And this was just the beginning, as we drove down this Expressway towards Mulungu. 

For the duration of the drive until we reached Mulungu I remained in shock for having no idea that I actually knew so little about this city that I like, one that I have often described as one of my favourite cities. 

It was calming to later on stand on the shoreline in Mulungu in the fading light of the dusk, an anticlimax to the earlier surge of emotion. I came away from the lake with a large, deep-fried Tilapia fish to console myself.

Sempaya Hot Springs

The entry fee to visit tourist locations in this country is determined by various factors, one of which is nationality. I did qualify for the "rest of Africa" category but I had no documentary evidence in my possession when purchasing the entry ticket, that I was not an American pretending to be an African. So the man said, "Now speak like a Nigerian let me hear". So I said, "Oga, you sef, na wa, which one you dey.." Then everyone burst out laughing, including the man himself. 

Okay, so I got my ticket as "the rest of Africa", but it was still five times more expensive than the "East African national" ticket.

Sempaya Hot Springs are striking geothermal features located in Semuliki National Park in the Bundibugyo District of western Uganda.

Female Spring (Nyasimbi): Features a boiling geyser that shoots water over 100°C about 2 meters into the air. Visitors often use the extreme heat to boil eggs and plantains.

Male Spring (Biteete): A calmer, wider pool about 12 meters across surrounded by swamp vegetation and palm trees.

Cultural Significance: Held sacred by the indigenous Bamaga clan, who believe their ancestors live beneath the springs and perform annual rituals there. The shrine where these indigenous people perform their traditional rites and rituals has been preserved right next to the hot springs.

Semuliki National Park, a 220-square kilometres protected lowland tropical rainforest located in the Bundibugyo District of western Uganda, is the only lowland tropical rainforest in East Africa, serving as an eastern extension of the vast Congo Basin's Ituri Forest. It is one of the richest areas of floral and faunal biodiversity in Africa, with bird and butterfly species being especially diverse. The park is managed by the Uganda Wildlife Authority.

The area of Semuliki National Park is a distinct ecosystem within the larger Albertine Rift ecosystem. Most of the plant and animal species in the park are also found in the Congo Basin forests, with many of these species reaching the eastern limit of their range in Semuliki National Park.

The Science: The water at the Sempaya Hot Springs boils at such extreme temperatures—up to 103°C (217°F)—because of the intense geothermal forces hidden beneath the Semuliki Valley.

The scientific mechanism behind why this water boils involves several key geological factors.

1. High-Pressure Underground Heating

Rainwater and river runoff from the nearby Rwenzori Mountains seep deep into the earth's crust through porous rock and deep fractures. As the water travels kilometres downwards, it approaches incredibly hot rocks near the earth's mantle.

Because the water is trapped deep underground beneath a heavy column of water and rock, it is subjected to immense pressure. This pressure acts like a natural pressure cooker, allowing the water to become "superheated" far past its normal surface boiling point without turning into steam.

2. Deep Fault Lines of the East African Rift

The Sempaya Hot Springs are located right inside the Western branch of the East African Rift System. In this region, the earth's tectonic plates are slowly pulling apart, thinning the crust and creating deep fractures and fault lines. These faults act as open pathways that allow the superheated water to rise rapidly back to the surface.

3. The "Flash" Effect at the Surface

As the superheated water rapidly ascends through the fissures, the surrounding physical pressure drops. When it finally nears the surface, the sudden drop in pressure causes the superheated water to violently "flash" into actual steam and boiling water. This is why the female spring (Nyansimbi) forcefully spurts a geyser of boiling water up to 2 meters into the air with a constant bubbling and sizzling sound.

4. Mineral Elevation of the Boiling Point

Pure water at sea level boils at exactly 100°C. However, Sempaya's waters are heavily saturated with dissolved minerals and salts (like sodium chloride and sulfur) leached from deep subterranean rocks. These dissolved minerals physically elevate the boiling point of the fluid, which is why temperatures at the vent can consistently register slightly above normal at 103°C.

Impact on the Human Population: The forests in the park are of great socio-economic importance to the human communities that live near the park. The local people practise subsistence agriculture and use the park's forests to supplement their livelihoods. Some of the products they obtain from the forests include fruits and vegetables, herbal medicines, and construction materials. The local population is increasing at a rate of 3.4 percent per year. The high population density and declining agricultural productivity combined with an unavailability of alternative sources of income means the local population is dependent on the park's resources. The forest also plays an important cultural and spiritual role in local people. The forests are also the home of approximately 100 Great Lakes Twa people, an indigenous community who still largely live as hunter-gatherers. Tourism provides the Batwa people with additional income.

Note: The Great Lakes Twa, also known as Batwa (singular Mutwa), Abatwa or Ge-Sera, are a Bantu speaking group native to the African Great Lakes region on the border of Central Africa and East Africa. As an indigenous pygmy people, the Twa are generally assumed to be the oldest surviving population of the Great Lakes region. Current populations of Great Lakes Twa people live in the states of Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda and the eastern portion of the Democratic Republic of Congo. In 2000, they numbered approximately 80,000 people, making them a significant minority group in these countries.

Past practices of the managing authorities that excluded the local people created resentment among them. This reduced the effectiveness of conservation practices and contributed to the occurrence of illegal activities. Since the 1990s, the Ugandan Wildlife Authority has involved the local communities in park planning.

She was the park ranger assigned to be our guide

Why Black Man Dey Suffer, Fela Kuti

Why Black Man Dey Suffer is a relatively early chapter in the Fela discography, originally recorded in 1971. Put to tape with early band Afrika 70 and drummer/Afro-beat enthusiast Ginger Baker.

Africans' historical and contemporary oppression and suffering is a common theme in Fela's music. In this track Kuti advises Africans to unite. 

On YouTube here

Lifeline Across Continents

The aviation link between Europe and the African continent is far more than a routine commercial network; it is a historical lifeline that has shaped geopolitical and economic relationships for over a century. For anyone boarding a modern Brussels Airlines flight bound for Central Africa or sub-Saharan Africa in general, this connection instantly transforms from an abstract corporate operation into a deeply personal experience of hospitality. Stepping off my recent flight from Brussels to Bujumbura, the overwhelming takeaway was clear: the service was comfortably among the finest, if not the very best, ever experienced on a journey to the continent. This world-class onboard environment is not an accident. Rather, it is the modern reflection of a century-long institutional legacy and a testament to the airline's vital structural role in African trade, logistics, and community connectivity.

The deep-rooted history of this connection spans more than one hundred years, inherited from the legacy of Belgium’s former national carrier, Sabena. On February 12, 1925, three Belgian aviators completed the first historic flight from Brussels to Léopoldville (now Kinshasa), an arduous 51-day trek across the Sahara. By 1935, Sabena had launched regular commercial passenger services, establishing a permanent aerial bridge to Central Africa. Following Sabena's closure in 2002, SN Brussels Airlines was formed to preserve these vital routes, later becoming the Brussels Airlines known today. Now a key pillar of the Lufthansa Group, the carrier draws upon nearly a century of specialised operational knowledge via its dedicated African Competence Centre.

This century of experience directly translates into the passenger cabin, distinguishing Brussels Airlines from peers who often treat African routes as secondary priorities. On the flight to Bujumbura, this dedication manifests in a meticulous attention to detail and genuine warmth. The onboard dining experience immediately stands out as a highlight, featuring thoughtfully curated meals that rival premium restaurant standards, complete with authentic Belgian touches that elevate the entire journey. This culinary excellence is perfectly complemented by the interactions with the cabin crew, whose professionalism is defined by an authentic, unhurried attentiveness. Rather than delivering mechanical service, the crew frequently navigate multiple languages and cultural nuances with ease, anticipating passenger needs with a level of care that transforms a long-haul journey over the Sahara into a welcoming and profoundly respectful experience.

Beyond exceptional hospitality, the airline delivers profound economic impacts by serving "niche markets" that are frequently underserved by other major European legacy carriers—such as Bujumbura (Burundi), Freetown (Sierra Leone), and Monrovia (Liberia). By maintaining consistent schedules, Brussels Airlines provides an indispensable link for Visiting Friends and Relatives (VFR) traffic. This supports diaspora communities, facilitating the seamless flow of human capital, skills, and financial remittances back to home countries, which forms a cornerstone of local macroeconomic stability.

Furthermore, Brussels Airlines acts as a critical engine for trade and logistics through its robust cargo operations. Utilising the bellyhold capacity of its widebody Airbus A330 fleet, the airline moves millions of kilograms of freight annually. Southbound flights deliver high-value European manufactured goods and life-saving pharmaceuticals, pulling directly from Brussels Airport’s status as a leading global pharmaceutical hub to reinforce local healthcare networks. Conversely, northbound flights transport fresh agricultural produce, flowers, and fish from African markets to European consumers, injecting vital foreign exchange into local economies and supporting thousands of agricultural jobs.

The true value of this service extends past pure economic metrics into the realm of humanitarian resilience. The airline's operational commitment was profoundly demonstrated during the 2014 West African Ebola outbreak. While almost all other international carriers suspended operations to Sierra Leone, Guinea, and Liberia out of risk aversion, Brussels Airlines continued its regular flights. This decision provided a literal lifeline, allowing the United Nations, the World Health Organisation, and global aid workers to fly in essential medical personnel and emergency supplies.

Ultimately, Brussels Airlines represents far more than standard commercial aviation; it is a historical institution and an economic prerequisite for regional development. The world-class service experienced on the flight to Bujumbura is simply the modern, human face of a century-old commitment. By bridging isolated markets, facilitating high-stakes pharmaceutical and agricultural trade, and treating its passengers with unmatched hospitality, the airline serves as a vital, irreplaceable custodian of Euro-African relations.

This was the best Premium Economy experience flying to Africa I have ever had. It was far better even than the one Business Class experience on Air France that I have been privileged to enjoy. I did not feel that I was taken for granted as I did flying Ethiopian, Kenya Airways, and especially Egypt Air. I did not feel like just a number as with Turkish Airlines. 

This is not an advertisement. These are personal reflections, accolades that Brussels Airlines truly deserves. In my humble opinion they are the best airline flying direct between Europe and Sub-Saharan Africa at the present time.