A sound argument to the effect that it is time for commentators to discard the well-worn dichotomy of Africa’s rise or fall is put forward in Simon Freemantle’s article in Business Day, February 5, 2015.

He argues, correctly, that doing so will allow us to more dispassionately assess the individual economies as they gain, stall or even recede. His argument prompted me to focus on what we as individuals, communities and countries should do to ensure that Africa indeed rises and does not fall. I hope to demonstrate that our actions or inaction will determine the fate of our beloved continent.

Dreams of founder fathers Those who came before us had great dreams about Africa. They held lofty ideals about her prospects and wanted the very best for her and her people. These dreams and ideals were eloquently outlined by the first African to win the Nobel Peace Prize, Chief Albert Luthuli:

“Let me invite Africa to cast her eyes beyond the past and to some extent the present, with their woes and tribulations, trials and failures, and some successes, and see herself an emerging continent, bursting to freedom through the shell of centuries of serfdom.

This is Africa’s age – the dawn of her fulfilment, yes, the moment when she must grapple with destiny to reach the summits of sublimity, saying – ours was a fight for noble values and worthy ends, and not for lands and the enslavement of man.” How have we fared? How far from these ideals have we strayed and how much did we do to realise our great potential?

A sober and dispassionate account will concede that Africa has been held back for far too long – by weak institutions that have failed to serve the people; by recurring conflicts that have made sustained and durable development elusive; by outmoded economic structures that have barred the door of opportunity to millions; by underdevelopment and inequality caused by a lack of human development and by corrupt elites, local and foreign, who plundered her resources and squandered her wealth. Ngugi Wa Thiongo describes the dire situation. He challenges us to think about the post-colonial performance:

“We have actually made a mockery of the gift (of independence). At a glance, our post-independence period has seen the devaluation of our African unity and pan-Africanism, the devaluation of intellect and intellectual achievement, and worst of all, the devaluation of African lives. This situation raises the inevitable question: What gift shall we, the living, bequeath to the unborn?

What Africa shall we hand over to the future?” While our generation can justifiably place all these shortcomings at the door of all those who came before us, the harsh reality is that today, the time has come to turn the curse of history into the blessing of destiny. That responsibility rests with us more than anybody else. The challenge may look daunting but the wise counsel of Kwame Nkrumah offers some guidance:

“ …The task ahead is great indeed, and heavy is the responsibility; and yet it is a noble and glorious challenge – a challenge which calls for the courage to dream, the courage to believe, the courage to dare, the courage to do, the courage to envision, the courage to fight, the courage to work, the courage to achieve – to achieve the highest excellences and the fullest greatness of man. Dare we ask for more in life?”

Things are falling apart Simon Freemantle outlined a number of significant events that have cast a long shadow across the continent. These events include:

• The fall in most dollar commodity prices • The sharp fall in the oil price and its impact on oil-producing countries such as Nigeria and Angola; • Currency challenges in key markets; • The residual perception of Africa as posing a health risk caused by the Ebola outbreak; • Security threats from the rampant escalation of violence by Boko Haram in West Africa and Al-Shaabab in East Africa; • The slowing of growth and commodity demand in China; and • The political risks spawned by elections across the continent.

In addition to these, there is instability in Mali, a political stalemate in Lesotho, armed conflict in the new South Sudan, and vandalism and looting of property in xenophobic attacks, rolling load shedding and huge conflicts between workers and management in South Africa.

When villages are completely destroyed, when random attacks occur at shopping malls, when 10-year-old girls are used as suicide bombers, when seven-year-old girls are raped and mutilated, and when rampant corruption gobbles valuable resources aimed at development, Africa’s dream looks more and more like a mirage.

The words William Butler Yeats penned in his poem, “The Second Coming”, seem prophetic:

“Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.” We are witnessing things falling apart completely. Our dream is being dashed. In such circumstances, what are we to do? Are we to let go of our dreams and noble ideals? The answer I prefer comes from the words of renowned South Africa poet, Professor Keorapetse Kgositsile, in Wounded Dreams:

“…Though the present remains a dangerous place to live, cynicism would be a reckless luxury; toxic lies piled high and deodorised to sound like the most clear signage showing us the way forward from here. “…though the present is a dangerous place to live, possibility remains what moves us. We are involved, indifference would simply be evidence of the will to die or trying to straddle some fence that no one has ever seen…”

Audacity of hope For Africa to rise, for her not to falter, we must rekindle hope and banish fear, cynicism and indifference. In the words of Luthuli: “Could it not be that history has delayed Africa’s rebirth for a purpose? The situation confronts her with inescapable challenges, but more importantly with opportunities for service to herself and mankind. She evades the challenges and neglects the opportunities to her shame, if not her doom. How she sees her destiny is a more vital and rewarding quest than bemoaning her past with its humiliations and sufferings.”

The hope that both Kgositsile and Luthuli invoke is derived from immense passion, deep courage, strong conviction and a clear vision of the future. It is hope that requires personal risks, and that demands huge sacrifices and commitment to a higher ideal.

In the words of Chris Hedges: “The more futile, the more useless, the more irrelevant and incomprehensible an act of rebellion is, the vaster and more potent hope becomes.”

That hope was the light that sustained Nelson Mandela during his darkest hour, when he lost his beloved mother, then his eldest son in a tragic car accident, while his wife, Winnie Mandela, was detained in solitary confinement. It is that hope he describes so passionately in his prison letters:

“In spite of all that has happened I have, throughout the ebb and flow of the tides of fortune in the last 15 months, lived in hope and expectation. I feel my heart pumping hope steadily to every part of my body, warming my blood and pepping up my spirits. I am convinced that floods of personal disaster can never drown a determined revolutionary nor can the cumulus of misery that accompanies tragedy suffocate him. To a freedom fighter hope is what a life belt is to a swimmer – a guarantee that one will keep afloat and free from danger.”

Clearly, this hope is not for the practical and the sophisticated; the cynics and the complacent; nor the defeated and the fearful. It requires what President Obama describes as the audacity of hope, hope in the face of difficulty, and hope in the face of uncertainty.

• To be continued