Phillips and Cheney preface an analysis of the ASA’s Graduate Student Paper Prize in a discussion with past Prize winners with a review of the sociological literature on awards and scholarly critiques of the history of African Studies. They find that the Prize has played an important role in amplifying and recognizing the voices of young scholars who have pushed the thematic and theoretical boundaries of the field. But these contributions are attended by limitations that the ASA should remediate as they consider the GSP Prize in relation to efforts to realize anti-colonial and social justice-oriented approaches to knowledge production.

African nations have struggled to secure lifesaving COVID-19 vaccines, while rich nations have purchased more than they needed, depleting the global supply. High vaccine prices and intellectual property regulations that block the production of cheaper generics have contributed to a condition of African waithood. Hagan examines this waithood, which characterizes the disjuncture between African countries’ existential and humanitarian need for COVID-19 vaccines and corporations’ quest for profits in the pandemic. African waithood, produced by pharmaceutical companies including Moderna and Pfizer, is a direct product of colonialism. Waithood echoes the ongoing colonial relations between African nations and the corporations that continue to exploit them.

The African Studies community has reinvigorated discussions about the racial and power dynamics of the field in the past few years. A core question has been how to Africanize knowledge production. Hadfield’s practical example as a white American historian involving Black South African oral history interview participants in different stages of the research process shows that successfully including interview participants in the interpretation stage requires clarity and transparency throughout. If meaningful dialogue is employed and human connections prioritized, the result should be a more accurate and inclusive process that satisfies all, even if scholars and participants disagree.

Different political projects and ideological positions are founded upon distinct accounts of the past, each with their own emphases, silences, and omissions. The case of Zimbabwe illustrates this connection between power and history. Whereas the myths of colonial historiography provided legitimization frameworks for settler colonialism, “patriotic history” became a key element of the legitimation strategy implemented by the post-independence regime. Pinto analyses how history and historiography were incorporated into narratives of power legitimization in both pre- and post-independence Zimbabwe and how, in the late 90s, history and historiography became critical sites of political polarization and contestation.

Abim district, located in Uganda’s Karamoja region, is one of the scores of new administrative units created under the country’s decentralization policy. The establishment of Abim district in 2006, following decades of conflict in northern Uganda, was accompanied by changes in ethnic identity within local communities of Ethur farmers. Based on oral history fieldwork in Abim, Meyerson documents these changes in sociopolitical identification among the Ethur. In doing so, he demonstrates how political decentralization has become a venue for the combination of international discourses of indigenous rights, national notions of ethnic citizenship, and grassroots histories of intercommunal relations.

The introduction of indigenous languages to Kenyan media, following pre- and post-independence realities, opened the floodgate of communications within the country, with both positive and negative consequences. Indigenous languages found expression in creative works, civic communication, and other areas previously reserved solely for English and Kiswahili. Kanana and Kinyua discuss this trajectory within the context of media liberalization, digital migration, and gains from the period of state crackdown on media to the promulgation of the 2010 Kenyan Constitution and devolution of government units reflecting traditional boundaries. Employing secondary research methodologies, they argue the advantages of indigenous languages in the media over the disadvantages highlighted in the literature.

After a failed transition to democracy in the 1990s in Togo, the opposition took refuge in Ghana, outside of the regime’s reach. Why and how did the regime react to transnational dissent? Analyzing an unpublished RPT-produced press review and the opposition press in Ghana and Togo, Raunet argues that the Togolese regime used the foreign press, the language of legality, and the politics of belonging to consolidate itself and shape a public image of apparent legitimacy. She suggests that the skillful adaptation of legitimation narratives is key in understanding the “internal logic” of authoritarian regimes and their prospects of survival.

Drawing on interviews and archival and published materials, Gyamfi reinterprets Anani Dzidzienyo’s significance as a Black Studies scholar and activist. Dzidzienyo was a pioneer in academic African diaspora studies who institutionalized the inclusion of Africa and Brazil. For fifty years, Dzidzienyo created Black Studies and Afro-Latin American programs, designed Afro-Brazilian courses that expanded Portuguese and Brazilian Studies, and supported freedom struggles in Africa and Brazil. In so doing, he built a transnational network of scholar-activists and institutions. Yet, for all this, scholars have mostly neglected Dzidzienyo’s work and wide influence on multiple fields of study and liberation movements.

To rally support within Africa for America’s boycott of the Moscow Olympic Games, President Carter sent Muhammad Ali as his personal diplomat to Tanzania, Kenya, Nigeria, Liberia, and Senegal in an attempt to gain political and popular support for the boycott. The mission had limited success, but it inspired a public forum across the continent for criticisms of American foreign policy toward Africa. By analyzing these discussions, primarily within the press, Ivey shows how America was interpreted in Africa and how the issues of the Cold War were considered of secondary importance to the more immediate struggle against apartheid and independent foreign policy.

“Queer” is a relatively recent and somewhat controversial term in African studies. Yet it is proving to be productive, not only for understanding African subjectivities of sexuality and gender, but also for situating Africa’s position in the larger economy of knowledge. Otu and van Klinken explore the productive tensions between “queer” and “Africa,” and aim to read Africa as queer and to read queer from Africa. Thus, rather than imagining Africa and queer as polar opposites, the authors seek to harness the critical, productive, and creative affinities between these two terms that are vital for the project of decolonizing and queering queer Africa.

Frantz Fanon’s essay “This is the Voice of Algeria” is a still-underused text in the study of radio. The book it comes from, A Dying Colonialism, is often regarded as one of Fanon’s weaker works, since its sociological studies of the Algerian revolution are considered to lack the rhetorical mastership and philosophical heft seen in his more famous books. At least in the case of his essay on radio, however, this perception is misguided, as recent literature on the history of radio in Africa shows.