In less than two centuries the process of industrialisation has spread from a tiny triangle in Britain to nearly 25 per cent of the world population. But it has so far largely by-passed the Third World, including China and socialist East Asia, and the southern periphery of Europe from Portugal to Bulgaria. These developing countries account for almost 75 per cent of the world population, but for only 20 per cent of the world income. On the other hand, the developed countries, with only 25 per cent of the population, have an average income per capita about ten times as high, and account for as much as 80 per cent of the real world output.

The introduction of the one-party system in Tanzania in 1965 was in part explained as a means of rescuing the National Assembly or Bunge from decline and decay. This institution had become a rubber stamp, according to the Presidential Commission, making few meaningful contributions to the system of government: debates had become ‘lifeless and superficial’, and legislation was passed rapidly and uncritically, ‘without challenge to basic principles or careful examination of detailed provisions’. The President had appropriately raised the question of whether the National Assembly should be formally removed from the structure of the state, or amalgamated with that of the ruling party.

The domestic economies of most nations in Africa are based upon small-holder agriculture, which has demonstrated in the past that it can be a dynamic source of growth1. However, many governments have tried to constrain this sector and, except for a few export crops during a particular period of time, to replace it with larger farming units wherever possible.2 Part of the reason for such policies is a lack of understanding of the nature of small holdings – surprisingly little is known about what they actually are and do.3 It is frequently assumed that African farmers live in a state of blind ignorance, using inappropriate methods, and only waiting to be taught the excellent technology which stands ready to be used.4 The available evidence indicates that this is grossly wrong.5

The term ‘labour aristocracy’ first appeared in the literature on African economic development in 1968,1 although African wage labour had previously been described as a privileged elite on many occasions. I wish to question the accuracy and relevance of the type of calculation upon which these descriptions are based, and to present the situation which prevails today in Northern Nigeria, using detailed survey data on the earnings of rural farmers, urban workers, and those employed in small-scale enterprises.

Much recent analysis of South Africa's outward-looking policy towards independent Africa has asserted that the implications of this are primarily economic in character: ‘South Africa is thrusting out into Africa for a number of reasons. She needs markets for her manufactured goods. She wants to export capital.’1 Indeed, many observers carry the argument further, and suggest that she is seeking an economic and political role in Africa analogous to that of the United States in Latin America. In the words of Sean Gervasi:

This article represents an attempt to bring together and survey the diverse techniques devised by individual scholars and institutions for the purpose of measuring comparative economic development. Any merits it therefore possesses must rest in its clarifications rather than in its inspirations. However, so many techniques exist, founded upon so many theoretical bases, that a concise overview would appear to be justified.

The culture of a country, or a society within it, provides the context for education. The planning of education should therefore start with a consideration of the cultural background, and this is especially true of those countries in Africa which are predominantly Islamic. However, when an attempt is made to follow this line of approach, the complexity of the situation soon becomes apparent; and it is necessary to bear in mind several themes that constantly arise.

In the past decade Africa has experienced a dramatic decrease in the number of national democratic institutions. Parliaments have not met, parties have declined or been outlawed, and elections have not been held in many states. The situation appears to be similar at the local level. Commenting on this state of affairs, Fred G. Burke observed in 1969: ‘One wonders whether there is to be any future for democratic local government in Africa. One might also wonder whether there should be any future.’2

Jobs and their location provide the key to an understanding of the contemporary thrust of South Africa's ‘separate development’ policy. Within the country's present space economy, dominated by the four metropolitan complexes of the Southern Transvaal, Cape Town, Durban, and Port Elizabeth, this policy seeks to mould a new geography of employment opportunity for the blacks of South Arica. In this process, public policy-makers are attempting to decentralise some economic activities, particularly in the manufacturing sector, away from the nation's metropolitan hubs, and concomitantly to promote new work centres in, or on the borders of, the designated ‘Bantu Homelands’. The current emphasis in the Republic is upon the generation of industrial employment for Africans at selected sites in these Homelands. This short note explores the immediate problems and long-term prospects of this policy with reference to the Bophutatswana growth point of Babelegi.

In March 1961 the Democratic Party won the national elections in Uganda largely because it captured o of the 21 seats within the Kingdom of Buganda. The Buganda Government had ordered a boycott of the elections, because neither the British administration nor the African political parties would guarantee Buganda's future position within Uganda, and all but three per cent of the electorate stayed away from the polls. The Democratic Party took office despised within Buganda because it had defied the Kabaka, and feared by his Protestant advisers because of its predominantly Catholic support.