The dynamics of being and becoming African

The idea of African identity is a vibrant, ever changing tapestry woven from daily interactions, relationships, and the threads of local and global influences. It is not a singular, fixed entity, but rather a dynamic mix of identities shaped by race, ethnicity, geography, culture, history, economics and politics. This makes African identity diverse, complex and deeply interconnected.

Thabo Mbeki’s powerful ‘I am an African’ speech, delivered in 1996,Footnote ¹ eloquently captures this notion. Here is an excerpt from the written speech:

Mbeki portrays Africa as a welcoming and inclusive ‘melting pot’, celebrating its diversity and interconnectedness. This echoes the spirit of ubuntu – humanity towards others – where the continent is seen as the cradle of humankind, brimming with an endless capacity for creative diversity.

Mbeki connects his own identity to the African landscape, feeling a deep kinship with its majestic mountains, fertile valleys, winding rivers, arid deserts and vast seas. He sees the cyclical nature of the seasons as a metaphor for the dynamic and evolving nature of African identity. He speaks of the shared humanity and histories that bind Africans together, from the descendants of ‘warrior men and women’ who shaped the continent through their struggles, to migrants who sought refuge and built new homes in Africa, and those who were tragically brought to the continent against their will.

Thabo Mbeki’s concept of ‘Africanness’ emphasizes a rich tapestry woven from diverse racial and ethnic interactions, and deep connections between people and their environments. This vision, reflective of Africa’s history of migration and shared experiences, presents an aspirational image of unity and respect. He advocates for a fluid, interconnected identity, challenging rigid definitions of belonging (Nyamnjoh et al. Reference Nyamnjoh, Nwosu and Yosimbom2021).

However, the reality of African identity, as observed through the lens of nation state interactions, is often more complex. Mbeki’s idealized portrayal of a welcoming and unified continent contrasts with research that reveals a fragmented landscape, marked by exclusion and marginalization. Studies highlight the experiences of Africans facing xenophobia and limited access to rights, both within and outside the continent, including in South Africa. This challenges Mbeki’s optimistic view and exposes the nation state-dictated realities of mobility (Gugler and Geschiere Reference Gugler and Geschiere1998; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2006; Reference Nyamnjoh, Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016; Sichone Reference Sichone and Werbner2008; Geschiere Reference Geschiere2009; Landau Reference Landau2011; Brudvig Reference Brudvig2014; Powell Reference Powell2014; Bakewell and Landau Reference Bakewell and Landau2018; Crush Reference Crush2021; Cole and Somda Reference Cole and Somda2024).

Furthermore, while Mbeki’s speech implies a fixed, celebratory identity rooted in shared history, research focused on African mobilities demonstrates the fluidity and situational nature of African identity. Concepts like Afropolitan and Afropean underscore this dynamic, suggesting that African identities are constantly negotiated and redefined within evolving historical, social and political contexts.

Despite these complexities, Mbeki’s ‘I am an African’ speech remains a compelling vision. It serves as a powerful call for an inclusive, unified South Africa (if not Africa), where diversity is valued. While the lived experience may diverge from this ideal, his words continue to inspire, reminding us of the potential for a truly interconnected and harmonious African identity beyond the confines of nation states.

Incompleteness begets motion and diasporas

The meaning we accord the notion of diaspora informs our understanding of diasporic writing and literature. I explore diaspora through a framework that brings into a sustained, multidimensional and multilayered conversation the universality of incompleteness and motion. My idea of incompleteness is inspired and richly illustrated by the writings of the late Nigerian writer and author of The Palm-Wine Drinkard (Reference Tutuola1952) and My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (Reference Tutuola1954), Amos Tutuola. His writings help us understand the making, unmaking and remaking of belonging through motion, a perspective that is best seen in historical process. For Tutuola, incompleteness is not a condition to shy away from, or be guilty of, or feel that you need to work hard to complete, but rather just something to recognize and embrace, and then to seek to activate productively through mobility, encounters and relationships with other people and environments (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2017).

We live in a world defined by constant movement and inherent incompleteness. Yet, we are conditioned to chase an illusion of completeness, driven by a desire for control and a need to exclude. This yearning for dominance often manifests in the policing of borders and the restriction of movement, especially for those deemed poor. Freedom of movement is often perceived as a threat by those who consider themselves economically superior, leading to a desperate need to contain it.

This ‘winner takes all’ mentality fuels the creation of artificial boundaries based on ever shifting categories like race, ethnicity, culture and class. We construct hierarchies to distinguish between insiders and outsiders, ‘us’ and ‘them’, perpetuating a cycle of exclusion. These divisions are reinforced by physical barriers and restrictive policies that limit not only physical mobility but also social mobility, trapping individuals in a state of dependency.

However, the history of Africa reveals a powerful counternarrative: a story of resistance against confinement and containment. The determination of ordinary Africans to cross borders, even in the face of danger, serves as a poignant reminder of the arbitrary divisions imposed by colonial powers during the Berlin Conference. This defiance speaks to a deep-rooted yearning for connection and a rejection of imposed limitations.

Studying mobility in Africa offers valuable insights into the struggle against colonial legacies and the pursuit of a more inclusive Pan-African identity evident in Mbeki’s ‘I am an African’ vision. It challenges the narrow nationalism that seeks to confine and contain, and instead champions a vision of interconnectedness and fluidity (Sichone Reference Sichone, Ohta, Nyamnjoh and Matsuda2022; Cole and Somda Reference Cole and Somda2024).

Ultimately, embracing mobility means acknowledging a world of complexities and ‘crooked lines’. It means rejecting the illusion of straight paths and embracing the reality of interconnectedness and fluidity. This perspective challenges the very foundation of exclusionary practices and paves the way for a more just and equitable world.

If domination is the name of that game of ours, then we cannot afford to have unregulated inclusivity. It is in our interest to thrive on distinctions and to invent these where necessary. A critical examination of the notion of diaspora and how it has been used over time tells the story of a term that begs for distinctions, distinctiveness and boundedness that are empirically absent or not that prominent in the lives of those categorized as the diaspora (Clifford Reference Clifford1994; Berthomiere Reference Berthomiere, Bosswick and Husband2005; Brubaker Reference Brubaker2005; Dufoix Reference Dufoix2008; Waldinger Reference Waldinger2008). The framework we use to appreciate diasporas does not take interconnections and interdependences as the norm. It is a framework in which flexible mobility is an exception, and cultures and identities are presented as bounded and essentialized properties of particular peoples and homelands (Kurzwelly et al. Reference Kurzwelly, Rapport and Spiegel2020). The framework treats the inescapability of cultural hybridity with deceptive suspicion, disdain or trivialization. Its prescriptiveness does not authorize the hybrid to negotiate conviviality between marginality or minoritization and majoritarian sovereignty or to creatively reconcile enunciation and renunciation (Bhabha Reference Bhabha, Werbner and Modood2015; Werbner and Modood Reference Werbner and Modood2015). It imbues with guilt, ambivalence and feelings of being in an identity crisis or cultural limbo anyone remotely inclined to straddling identity margins, claiming multiple belongings and championing incompleteness and conviviality in the manner of V. S. Naipaul’s ‘half-and-half’. The latter are hybrids who are not credited with more than ‘half a life’, regardless of their personal desires and experiences in building bridges across the socio-cultural politics of chasms (Naipaul Reference Naipaul2001). Those caught betwixt and between the rigid native–settler, insider–outsider, autochthon–stranger opposition are, in their structural powerlessness as minorities, defined and confined permanently to an invisible ephemeral presence, regardless of their actual achievements in the land and currency of their sovereign hosts (Mamdani Reference Mamdani2020). When cultures and peoples leave or travel from their designated homelands, they are expected to reconstitute themselves into a community in exile, and to be eternally nostalgic about their homeland of origin. Such expectations take attention away from forging alternative solidarities in which diasporic communities are open and accommodating to connecting strongly with one another based solely on the fact of both being a diaspora, no matter how different their perceived homeland. Mobilization and consciousness as a dynamic reality are central to the making, unmaking and remaking of diasporas as incompleteness in motion (Thompson Reference Thompson1987; Gilroy Reference Gilroy1993; Okpewho et al. Reference Okpewho, Davies and Mazrui1999; Okpewho and Nzegwu Reference Okpewho and Nzegwu2009; Brinkerhoff Reference Brinkerhoff2009; Gueye Reference Gueye2010; Kane Reference Kane2011; Zeleza Reference Zeleza2012). This aspect is inadequately explored in light of the resilient expectations that bounded and fortressed identities are the norm (Brubaker Reference Brubaker2005; Dufoix Reference Dufoix2008; Gueye Reference Gueye2010).

Yet, as I argue in this lecture, a rigid view of diaspora misses the nuanced reality of incompleteness in motion. It overlooks the flexible mobility, encounters and composite nature of identity formation – all of which shape individuals within their familiar circles, places and spaces, both at home and away. This sense of ‘home’ encompasses both tangible reality and heartfelt aspiration.

To illustrate, consider Taiye Selasi’s novel Ghana Must Go (Reference Selasi2013). The Sai family, scattered across continents, embodies this idea. Their physical separation mirrors their emotional and psychological fragmentation, a sense of incompleteness rooted in displacement. Each member grapples with belonging, feeling like ‘returnees’ in Ghana and outsiders in the US, constantly negotiating their identities in search of a place to call home. Unresolved traumas, like the father’s abandonment and the mother’s struggles, fuel their continuous movement, both physically and emotionally, as they try to escape the past. The title itself, Ghana Must Go, hints at the illusion of return, as the family’s experiences in Ghana reveal that ‘home’ is more complex than they imagined. Their constant motion – travelling, shifting identities, grappling with internal struggles – reflects the ongoing process of navigating diaspora, where wholeness remains elusive. Ghana Must Go captures the complexities of diaspora as a state of incompleteness in motion. The characters’ journeys illustrate the ongoing search for belonging, the weight of unresolved trauma, and the illusion of return, highlighting the challenges of navigating fragmented identities and the constant negotiation of belonging in a world where ‘home’ is a fluid concept.

This fictionalized sense of incompleteness in motion is further echoed in Kojo Annan’s personal account of his evolving sense of home and belonging, as he pays tribute to his late father, Kofi Annan. This real-life example offers further insights into the flexible and open-ended nature of diaspora:

If Kojo Annan’s story sounds utopian, it is because we have a tendency to define and appreciate home and belonging rigidly and administratively, as if completeness were anything but transient or illusory.

Kojo Annan’s story highlights an idea of home as a lived and felt reality resulting from the changing compositeness and conviviality forged by everyday negotiations and choices attributed to dispersive and converging mobilities and encounters because of incompleteness. It challenges us to rethink how we understand and attribute belonging in an interconnected and interconnecting world in motion (Appadurai Reference Appadurai1996; Comaroff and Comaroff Reference Comaroff and Comaroff2009; Adey Reference Adey2010; Dickson Reference Dickson2017). In a world of myriad transnational culture flows, mass movements of populations, encounters and interconnections, ‘it is not only the displaced who experience displacement’ (Gupta and Ferguson Reference Gupta and Ferguson1992: 10) and being diaspora becomes common currency. The currency of exclusivity in belonging configured around and sustained by the nation state is challenged by stories such as the Sais’ in Taiye Selasi’s Ghana Must Go and Kojo Annan’s to rethink the terminology of ‘home’ and ‘diaspora’ by reinserting both in motion. If we think people’s belonging is based on the home–nation state relationship as a fixity, home becomes exclusionary, shaped by and shaping a logic of ever diminishing circles of inclusion. Such exclusionary articulations of belonging generate and are fuelled by other logics such as racism, xenophobia, populist nationalism, nativism and autochthony (Geschiere Reference Geschiere2009; Mamdani Reference Mamdani2020; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2022a).

The craving for security based on the illusion of grounded permanence is a distraction from the need to recognize and represent historical processes of making, unmaking and remaking of relations within and between cultures and geographies. It privileges rupture over repair. Whyte terms such security ‘an impostor’, as ‘little can be achieved while each seeks his own freedom from want, from war, or from fear’ (Whyte Reference Whyte1961: 206). By accepting incompleteness, compositeness and mobility as the nature of beings, the inclusivity in progress suggested by Kojo Annan’s experience of home can be fostered, not as utopian but as retrieving and acknowledging the incompleteness in motion that makes us who we are through relationships and encounters.

Kojo Annan’s story is thus an invitation for us to disabuse ourselves of territorially, culturally and administratively defining and confining illusions of completeness. It is a call to embrace a global citizenship informed by flexible mobility and an idea of home as a permanent work in progress (Hazama et al. Reference Hazama, Umeya and Nyamnjoh2019). Each and every one of us, frequent flyer or not, accorded the authority to tell the story of interconnections activated by our own incompleteness in motion, would have our own personal accounts to share, accounts that do not necessarily reflect the standardized, routinized, predictable bureaucratized versions imagined, practised and reproduced by states and kindred institutions (Stoller Reference Stoller2002; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2006; Sichone Reference Sichone and Werbner2008; Alpes Reference Alpes2011; Buggenhagen Reference Buggenhagen2012; Brudvig Reference Brudvig2014; Owen Reference Owen2015; Atekmangoh Reference Atekmangoh2017; Pailey Reference Pailey2021; Andrikopoulos Reference Andrikopoulos2023; Cole and Somda Reference Cole and Somda2024). In this connection, academic accounts can be richly complemented by literary and other sources (Mpe Reference Mpe2001; Stoller Reference Stoller1999; Reference Stoller2014; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2010; Alhaji Reference Alhaji and Nyamnjoh2015; Steinberg Reference Steinberg2015).

If incompleteness and mobility make belonging through encounters a permanent work in progress, I suggest then that we seek to understand Africanness and its diasporas as incompleteness in motion. This is not to deny or trivialize the ascriptive credentials of geographical, cultural and political identities into which we are born and raised, but to make a case for the negotiations and choices that come with mobilities and encounters.

Diasporas as incompleteness in motion

Diaspora tends to refer to people who have been dispersed away from their homeland or geography of origin. It speaks of those who have moved or are seen to have been moved away from a geographical location which they claim or which is perceived to belong to them. The literature on diasporas tends to suggest that such dispersals are often due to factors beyond the control of those who are moving away from their ‘native’ land. It suggests – misleadingly, if the treasure-hunting conquest-driven transgressive and privileged mobilities of the powerful are any indication – that humans would normally circulate within the lands or places of their birth unless there is a force majeure. Such a force majeure could be a disruptive natural catastrophe (flood, earthquake, tsunami, volcano, drought) or the result of human action (conflict, war, persecution, enslavement, forced migration as indentured labour, poverty, disease, famine, etc.). Forced displacements are seldom desired but often bitter, traumatic and alienating experiences, which could leave many with feelings of angst, uncertainty, frustration, apprehension and foreboding. For humans to move simply because they want to, desire to, or are curious to discover the world they inhabit, and not out of duress of any kind, seems beyond contemplation within this understanding of diaspora. Such leisurely mobility of adventure and discovery is treated as an exception – something mostly associated with the rich, powerful and privileged few – rather than the norm. Yet, one does not have to move across recognized and policed borders for one’s mobility to count.

The use of the term ‘diaspora’ has come a long way from its limited usage to include diasporas of various origins (Clifford Reference Clifford1994; Cohen Reference Cohen1996; Berthomiere Reference Berthomiere, Bosswick and Husband2005; Brubaker Reference Brubaker2005; Dufoix Reference Dufoix2008; Mercer et al. Reference Mercer, Page and Evans2008). However, the concept could be stretched to be even more inclusive. There is a tendency also for the diaspora to be confined to those who are dispersed beyond nation states native to them as homelands, as if the nation state is the only unit of analysis of dispersal. It is as if, before the invention of the nation state, homelands or dispersals were not possible. It is also as if, once constituted, nation states cannot be contested, undone and redone.

Yet, archaeology and deep history tell us that the modern world is a product of dispersals that date all the way back to the continent of Africa as the cradle of humankind. And when anthropologists write of people away from home through dislocations of various kinds, home refers much more to the home regions, home towns and home villages to which the diasporas feel primary loyalty, and patriotism, than to the nation state which they may or may not be loyal to or patriotic about (Gugler and Geschiere Reference Gugler and Geschiere1998; Evans Reference Evans2010; Mercer et al. Reference Mercer, Page and Evans2008).

A notable example in this context is Kemi Badenoch, the British Conservative Party leader since November 2024. Badenoch has openly expressed a stronger allegiance to her Yoruba ethnicity than to Nigeria, which she perceives as corrupt and poorly governed. In an interview with The Spectator, she emphasized her deep connection to her Yoruba heritage, contrasting it with her detachment from Nigeria as a whole. Badenoch has also been vocal about regional differences within Nigeria, stating that she has ‘nothing in common with the people from the north of the country’, referencing areas impacted by extremism and insurgency. Proud of her Yoruba heritage, which has given her a ‘very strong identity about who you are, where you come from, traditions and so on’, and of her warrior surname, Adegoke, she pledges to die protecting Britain, and prioritizes her relationship with Yoruba over Nigeria in the following terms: ‘I find it interesting that everybody defines me as being Nigerian. I identify less with the country than with the specific ethnicity [Yoruba]. That’s what I really am. I have nothing in common with the people from the north of the country, the Boko Haram where the Islamism is, those were our ethnic enemies and yet you end up being lumped in with those people.’Footnote ⁴ Additionally, Badenoch has criticized Nigeria’s political environment, describing it as rife with ‘thieving politicians and insecurity’.Footnote ⁵

Few Africans in the diaspora within and beyond the continent would quibble with the sort of primary patriotism to the home village, home town and ethnic heritage which Kemi Badenoch claims over and above loyalty to the nation state as a colonial invention, especially when its status as a unifier is more of a hollow pretence than an empirical reality. Solidarities, associational life, mobilization and fundraising development initiatives and resources are more likely to be tailored to and articulated around the home region, home town and home village of origin than the home nation state of the diasporas (Evans Reference Evans2010; Mercer et al. Reference Mercer, Page and Evans2008; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2013b; H. Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh, Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016). These home places of primary patriotism are also prioritized as places where community members in the diaspora (abroad, in the city or who live as ethnic strangers elsewhere) desire or insist to be buried (Geschiere and Nyamnjoh Reference Geschiere and Nyamnjoh2000).

If cultures exist not as natural and biological essences or bounded entities, but as dynamic realities that are socially, politically and historically produced, then cultural identities or communities are, as Benedict Anderson (Reference Anderson1983) puts it, imagined realities – not in the sense of being fabricated or false, but in that they are products of human imagination, creativity and the power to render them visible and collective. The members of the imagined communities need not know one another personally to believe and assume belonging together, but every imagined community needs to work hard to keep together, as identities are always contested and subject to renegotiation with changing configurations informed by internal and external hierarchies of interconnections.

Identities as imagined communities tend to privilege the logic of exclusion over that of inclusion, such that the circles of belonging are, paradoxically, forever diminishing the more one scrutinizes. Hence nations, however magnanimous, benevolent and inclusive, are imagined as limited, sovereign communities for which those elected for inclusion must display gratitude through consciousness, patriotism and the readiness to sacrifice in honour of the nation. It is in this regard that we should understand Kemi Badenoch, the Yoruba Adegoke (‘warrior’), who, as the leader of the British Conservative Party, reiterates her patriotism in these terms: ‘I am here to protect and I will die protecting this country because I know what’s out there.’Footnote ⁶ Nation states and national identities are produced through the active investment in seeking congruence in polity and culture. As such, dissociation and permanence are privileged over mobility and association.

However, such congruence is more assumed than tested. In Africa, for instance, many a postcolony has attempted to build ‘nation states’ and pursue development along the path traced out more by European colonial prescription than by actual achievements and practice in Europe. The continent’s postcolonial leaders have been persuaded by arguments which present the ‘nation state’ as the only form of political unit ‘recognized’ and ‘permitted’ in ‘the modern world’ (Smith Reference Smith and Hall1986: 230; Deutsch Reference Deutsch1969: 171–2; Wallerstein Reference Wallerstein1964: 4), and the modernization thus inspired as the unilinear route to development. Increasingly, as xenophobia and autochthony claim centre stage even as globalization is celebrated (Gugler and Geschiere Reference Gugler and Geschiere1998; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2006; Reference Nyamnjoh, Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016; Sichone Reference Sichone and Werbner2008; Geschiere Reference Geschiere2009; Landau Reference Landau2011; Brudvig Reference Brudvig2014; Powell Reference Powell2014; Bakewell and Landau Reference Bakewell and Landau2018; Crush Reference Crush2021), researchers are mostly in agreement that the attempt by African states to build ‘nation states’ or to develop in tune with European prescriptions has met with little success in the short term, and that from current trends, there is hardly any reason to think that things would be different in the long term. Many an African identifies primarily not with the nation state and its coercive illusions, but with homelands, home towns and home villages or communities – ethnic, religious, cultural, professional, associational, digital, futuristic and otherwise – acting as intermediaries or buffers between them and the state. This makes difference and belonging to given cultural communities a more convincing indicator of citizenship than the illusion of a unifying national culture that in effect thrives on inequalities and thinly disguised hierarchies (Geschiere and Gugler Reference Geschiere and Gugler1998; Werbner and Gaitskell Reference Werbner and Gaitskell2002).

In an African context where nation states in their current configuration are along the contested lines of the continent’s subjection to European colonialism, one is likely to encounter articulations of identities and belonging in terms of ethnic communities that are characterized not only by shared cultures, solidarities and consciousness but also by shared geographies. In the case of a resident colony such as South Africa that was under European colonialism, the added dimension of apartheid led to the creation of BantustansFootnote ⁷ that served as labour reserves, and provided the rationalization for racialized hierarchies of humanity. European colonial authorities imposed the concept of illegal migration in order to cheapen and control labour migration and segregate populations according to race and ethnicity. Colonialism discouraged the cultivation of solidarities of humaneness in favour of transactional relations of exchange which it manipulated in favour of the colonizers and to ensure that the colonized shall never be fully human or mobile on their own terms (Sichone Reference Sichone, Ohta, Nyamnjoh and Matsuda2022; Tamuka Reference Tamuka2025). Apartheid legislation made it possible not only to distinguish between Europeans and non-Europeans (or whites and non-whites) but also between cities and rural communities, Bantustans and European (white) communities, ‘tribesmen/tribeswomen and townsmen/townswomen’, ‘citizens and subjects’, ‘tribal/ethnic citizens and strangers’, ‘natives and non-natives’, etc.

This was the case even in urban South Africa, where mingling, intermingling and commingling made it possible for people to relate across otherwise rigid racial and ethnic boundaries in networks suggestive of cosmopolitanism and conviviality (Bickford-Smith Reference Bickford-Smith2021). The colonial and apartheid authorities made it extremely difficult for their African servants and support staff to feel at home away from home, thus driving even the most reluctant of them to look back to their home villages for solidarity and sustenance, when they would have preferred integration, however measured, as bona fide townsmen and townswomen (Mayer Reference Mayer1971; Bank Reference Bank2007).

The extent to which these racialized, complicated and layered articulations of belonging have changed in the post-apartheid dispensation remains a subject of research, and with implications for how the notion of diaspora is understood and mobilized. In the novel Welcome to Our Hillbrow, Phaswane Mpe (Reference Mpe2001) gives us an example of the intricacy of being diaspora in contemporary Johannesburg as a meeting point of Black African migrants from within and without South Africa as a nation state, both assumed and in the making. This novel explores the tensions and temptations of narrow nationalism, and simplistic homogenization and demonization of African migrants in the ‘new’ South Africa – a shaky union forged from histories of unequal encounters, competing, conflictual and complementary claims to power, privilege and resources. It questions the tendency to celebrate official rhetoric uncritically internalized and reproduced by ordinary Black South Africans from the apartheid-era Bantustans and townships of having graduated into citizenship, only for this to be endangered by the influx of Black Africans from countries farther up beyond the Limpopo River with little but savagery and preying primitivity to offer. In other words, ethnic diasporas internal to South Africa feel that Johannesburg would be much more fulfilling to them if only the flow of Black African migrants from across the South African territorial borders was contained (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2006: 43–50).

Regardless of scale, such communities (in South Africa and the African continent more generally) are in many ways polities with dominant cultures of their own (and therefore nation states, even if small scale). Given the arbitrary nature of the colonial state in Africa, it could be argued that many African countries in the twenty-first century are multiethnic and multinational states. Hence, it is possible, in such a context, to envisage diasporas that are ethnic in nature to account for what Mahmood Mamdani (Reference Mamdani1996) has correctly described in his distinction between ‘ethnic citizens’ and ‘ethnic strangers’ within the same nation state as a postcolonial work in progress.

Consider South Africa: the experience of internal migration can – some would say surprisingly – mirror that of a diaspora. A Xhosa person moving from the Eastern Cape, their historical homeland, to KwaZulu-Natal, the historical Zulu homeland, may find themselves treated as an ethnic outsider, effectively forming part of a Xhosa diaspora within their own country. This dynamic of evolving ethnic identity isn’t unique to those from the former Bantustans or Black South Africans, evidenced by the Afrikaner pursuit of a homeland in post-apartheid South Africa, exemplified by Orania. Moreover, individuals migrating from former Bantustans to urban centres in provinces like the Western Cape and Gauteng often encounter treatment that belies their national citizenship, as if provincial borders were international frontiers. Consequently, a national-level definition of ‘homeland’ inadequately captures the multifaceted identities and senses of belonging shaped by intersecting geographies and hierarchies experienced by many (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh, Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016; Bakewell and Landau Reference Bakewell and Landau2018).

Again, in the case of South Africa, if we consider the mining industry, and the mobilization of various ethnic Africans from different regions of the country as migrant labour, dispersal and reconstitution in the various cosmopolitan spaces that developed around mining could more appropriately be understood in terms of the diaspora-ization of ethnicities in South Africa. To complexify the situation, ethnic Africans as labour migrants to the mines not only came from within South Africa but also from beyond, including from neighbouring countries like Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Lesotho and the Kingdom of Eswatini (formally Swaziland) that shared a common ethnicity with some groups in South Africa (Landau Reference Landau2011). And if marrying into and out of South Africa was an outcome of such encounters, this introduces an added layer of complexity on what being diaspora as incompleteness in motion looks like.

Similarly, in a context where Africa as a continent and ‘Africans’ have been perceived and acted upon in racialized categories as ‘Blacks’, subjected to forced migration through transatlantic enslavement, and treated as outsiders within narrow nationalisms harkening to the dictats of racialized hierarchies of humanity, for instance, to talk of diasporas purely within the confines of ‘nation states’ as currently understood is to impoverish the predicaments of Africans in motion, as well as the African experience and its Pan-African resonances (American Society of African Culture 1962; Nkrumah Reference Nkrumah1963; Chapman Reference Chapman1968; Thompson Reference Thompson1987; Gilroy Reference Gilroy1991; Reference Gilroy1993; Okpewho et al. Reference Okpewho, Davies and Mazrui1999; Clarke Reference Clarke2010; Gueye Reference Gueye2010). The transatlantic slave trade was a major cause of the African diasporic experience in modernity and it was a thoroughly bitter and traumatic one. Diasporas in this sense – ‘victim diasporas’ according to Robin Cohen (Reference Cohen1997: 31–42) – were created through massive human theft, wars, displacement and a relentless sequestration of African bodies and minds. This ugly, traumatic experience has inspired and continues to inspire various forms of literature and representation in Africa and among the continent’s diasporas across the Atlantic (Baldwin Reference Baldwin1993 [1961]; Andrews et al. Reference Andrews, Foster and Harris2001; Irele Reference Irele2001; Irele and Gikandi Reference Irele and Gikandi2004; Samuels Reference Samuels2007; Mitchell and Taylor Reference Mitchell and Taylor2009; Page Reference Page2011; Graham and Ward Reference Graham and Ward2011; King and Moody-Turner Reference King and Moody-Turner2013; Miller Reference Miller2016). The experience deserves sustained representation by writers of African descent in conversation with one another and in a manner that injects fresh imagination on the interconnected histories and cultures of Africa in motion.

The fact that enslavement predated European colonialism on the continent and the forms of nationhood and statehood that accompanied it by no means erases the reality of dispersion experienced by Africans who were dislocated and forcefully exported as slaves away from their continental homeland (Chapman Reference Chapman1968; Thompson Reference Thompson1987; Gilroy Reference Thompson1991; Reference Gilroy1993; Okpewho et al. Reference Okpewho, Davies and Mazrui1999; Clarke Reference Clarke2010; Gueye Reference Gueye2010). In this connection, in addition to the familiar call for a Pan-African consciousness anchored on ‘Blackness’ and ‘Africanness’, Kamari Clarke introduces the notion of ‘humanitarian diasporas’ as a challenge to ‘rethink transatlantic slavery as the central basis for conceptualizing the starting place of African diasporic theorizing’ (Clarke Reference Clarke2010: 48) in Europe, the Americas and elsewhere, as well as to highlight transnationalism in the movement of people and things. Of interest is how Clarke’s perspective brings into conversation and in relation to contemporary issues on the African continent different generations of African diasporas – old and new, precolonial and colonial/postcolonial (Thompson Reference Thompson1987; Okpewho et al. Reference Okpewho, Davies and Mazrui1999; Okpewho and Nzegwu Reference Okpewho and Nzegwu2009) – into historical perspective and through the prism of unequal encounters between the West and the rest.

Representations of diaspora in motion

Irrespective of where we pitch our understanding and discussion of diasporas (continent, nation state, ethnic or village level), I would like to suggest that we explore the extent to which literature from and by the various diasporas of interest to us speaks to incompleteness, mobility, encounter. In the diasporic stories we tell, is the emphasis on migration or mobility? What is gained or lost by opting for the one or the other? How does literature on and by diasporas articulate the place of borders, belonging and citizenship in how humans seek to mobilize their incompleteness productively? What do diasporic writers depict – and how – when such attempts at self-activation are confronted with exclusionary logics of being and belonging, as seems to be the dominant and persistent mode? What degree of complexity and nuance do they bring to the tendency of nation states to perfect and emphasize technologies of containment (detection, detention and deportation) of those perceived to circulate outside the borders of the homelands to which they are confined? How does autoethnography change this discussion?

If and when allowed, to what extent is integration more than one-dimensional, where the host or insider community expects the diasporic outsider to do the adaptation by adopting wholesale the prescriptions of their host? What are the possibilities for members of the host community warming up to diasporic hearts learning to beat and feel for the children of the native soils of their hosts? Can time play a factor in this? To what extent is it possible for a diasporic settler to become a native in reality and in the creative imagination of those in the business of representing diasporic experiences in their writings? How articulate are representations of diasporic processes that disrupt, subvert and reinforce conventional understandings of being and belonging? How convincingly does such literature reimagine encounters between mobile outsiders and entitled insiders in which flexible forms of belonging and citizenship are greeted with suspicion in contexts where dichotomies and differences are prioritized over interconnections and interdependencies? Put differently, how do diasporic writers grapple with the fact that not many countries are hospitable in principle and legislation (while turning a blind eye to contradictory practices if and when it suits them) to the idea of dual or multiple citizenships (Cohen Reference Cohen1996; Pailey Reference Pailey2021) and that the politics, policies and practices of belonging imperil hopes for conviviality in mobility (Geschiere and Nyamnjoh Reference Geschiere and Nyamnjoh2000; Sichone Reference Sichone and Werbner2008; Geschiere Reference Geschiere2009; Landau Reference Landau2011; Brudvig Reference Brudvig2014; Powell Reference Powell2014; Bakewell and Landau Reference Bakewell and Landau2018; Mamdani Reference Mamdani2020; Crush Reference Crush2021; Pailey Reference Pailey2021; Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2013b; Reference Nyamnjoh2022a; Reference Nyamnjoh2022b)? How, in other words, do they problematize the tendency in nation states to define and confine through insisting on total allegiance to one polity, homeland or ethnicity even as culturally a person might be composite and dispersed in their loyalties, as amply illustrated by the excerpt from Kojo Annan’s tribute to his late father cited above?

The fact that comparable questions can be asked about what it means to be an insider, to claim to be home and at home, buttresses the point about the layered and ever diminishing circles of inclusion in identity claims tied to culture and geography (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh, de la Cadena and Starn2007). What, for instance, does it mean to be at home? What are the different degrees of being an insider? What is it that makes some in the homeland feel like outsiders within (Harrison Reference Harrison2008), who belong more to a nomadland than to a homeland (Bruder Reference Bruder2017)? In other words, is there a difference between being at home and feeling at home? Can a homeowner and their tenant, both at home, lay equal claim to the property and the homeland they each identify with? Better still, when a homeless national or citizen lays claim and professes patriotism to a homeland, what exactly are we to take home from this? And what does it mean to be defined and confined to a barely homely homeland that has systematically been impoverished by extractive inequalities and the consuming ambitions of those with powerful technologies to dispossess with impunity and to create fortresses of their own homelands?

Representations of the diaspora in motion ought to emphasize relentlessly the fact that cultures travel through people, ideas, objects, beliefs and practices. They manifest and reproduce themselves in conversation with those they encounter in their travels, through food, clothing and tastes in fashion, language, forms of religiosity, ideas and practices around marriage, family, life, death and much more. Books, films and other cultural forms are used to produce and sustain the circulation and transmission of such cultural identities in motion. In the process of such encounters, they shape and are shaped by new cultures. In their travels, people as embodiments of cultures stay connected to the idea of a homeland through shared memories, myths, visions, rituals, religion and other values. In this regard, it could be argued that, due to the conception of diasporas as incompleteness in motion, cultures do not exist over and above the historical and political processes that produce and reproduce them, but they can defy attempts at confining them to particular spaces and places, especially with ever more dislocation, relocation and flexible mobility of people and mass-mediated cultural products and ideas. This understanding emphasizes the need to explore power and its unequal relations within and between cultures as critical to understanding the meanings people make of culture and cultural differences – especially how they are produced and reproduced.

Granted that not every member of the diaspora is proud of the homeland they left behind, fantasies, dreams and reimagination are also important ways of staying connected. Just as back in their homeland, where individuals and communities are united by difference and ambition, the fact of being physically separated by distance from the homeland does not necessarily make a homogeneous community of the diaspora. Home or away, communities are as desired as they are contested. While some people seek to forge new, rooted and lasting links and bonds with their host communities, others are working tirelessly to regain what they believe they have lost or have been dispossessed of, however bleak these aspirations might be (Thompson Reference Thompson1987; Okpewho et al. Reference Okpewho, Davies and Mazrui1999; Okpewho and Nzegwu Reference Okpewho and Nzegwu2009). To seek a return to a homeland necessitates relearning on various fronts, including ‘the languages of domicile and domesticity, as they are rerouted through the wayward and wandering vocabularies of displacement’ in order to understand the full import of such a return (Bhabha Reference Bhabha2021: x). However, the desire to return, relocate or resettle in the homeland may not cross generations effectively (Moudouma Reference Moudouma2013; Cousins and Dodgson-Katiyo Reference Cousins and Dodgson-Katiyo2016; Feldner Reference Feldner2019).

Some diasporas are not necessarily united by what is there, but by the possibilities of bringing about much more than what one has left behind. This would be the case for those who fled their homeland because of persecution or the brutality, dictatorship or corruption of the government and state (Woods Reference Woods2015). The theme of liberation, human rights and democracy would find particular traction with those seeking to represent or justify having fled their homelands. In the case of countries where dictatorships and poor governance have forced many a member to seek refuge on foreign soils, it is sometimes the case that the governments of the homelands from which they are fleeing continue to hunt them down to where they have fled. This might include infiltrating the diasporic community with agents (agents provocateurs) and spies who report back to the governments or authorities of the homeland. This capacity to monitor and track down dissidents has grown in sophistication with new digital technologies of surveillance (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2019; Reference Nyamnjoh2024). Use of these surveillance technologies to track and monitor the movements and activities of persons of interest in the diaspora is not limited to governments. Religious and cultural movements eager to define, confine and control their members and recruit others are just as attracted to these technologies (Kane Reference Kane2011; Buggenhagen Reference Buggenhagen2012).

Indeed, both governments and diasporas are harnessing the new digital information and communication technologies (ICTs) of instant availability and reachability to compress time and space between the homeland and elsewhere (Powell Reference Powell2014; Nyamnjoh and Brudvig Reference Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016). For the diaspora, ICTs facilitate mobilities, mobilization and solidarities through digital activism or dissidence and involvement as digital citizens (Isin and Ruppert Reference Isin and Ruppert2020; Roberts and Bosch Reference Roberts and Bosch2023) and digital diasporas (Brinkerhoff Reference Brinkerhoff2009). Social media are especially adept at fostering transnational sociality and interconnections, making it possible for the diaspora to participate, albeit virtually, in events in the homeland, as well as for relations and networks in the homeland to get involved in diasporic events. Digitally enhanced modes for diasporas to stay in touch and contribute to developments and in shaping futures in the home country, home town or home village are a statement not only of sustained loyalties, but also of the fact that brain drain need not necessarily translate into brains down the drain. As Henrietta Nyamnjoh’s research shows, diasporic Cameroonians can participate in virtual home-town associations, contribute significantly to development initiatives, and be present even in their absence at births, marriages, funerals, enthronements and festivals, thanks to Zoom, WhatsApp, Twitter/X, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and related technologies of virtual intimacies (H. Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2013; Reference Nyamnjoh, Nyamnjoh and Brudvig2016).

While digital technologies facilitate interconnections with the homelands, making it possible for the flow of remittances from the diaspora for personal and collective social, cultural, economic and political causes back in the homeland, the very same technologies make it possible for the diaspora to protect themselves from perceived excessive demands – changing profile, phone number, account name and address, and unsubscribing from groups and platforms where they could easily be accessed (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2005; Tazanu Reference Tazanu2012).

The Afropolitan prism

A theme of growing currency in thinking and writing Africa in motion is Afropolitanism. It focuses on Africans caught betwixt and between cultures and geographical locations, navigating and negotiating the nuanced complexities of a world of interconnecting local and global hierarchies, with an especial refrain being African cosmopolitanism inspired by encounters with the West (Hannerz Reference Hannerz2022). But as Phaswane Mpe’s novel Welcome to Our Hillbrow (Reference Mpe2001) shows, cosmopolitanism inspired by mobility and encounters within and between countries on the African continent is no less instructive on Afropolitanism. The Afropolitan writer might come across as a self-appointed spokesperson of the globally dispersed nimble-footed frontier Africans, traversing multiple borders, geographic settings, languages and cultures, often with a startling degree of fluidity, aptitude and success. Yet, the predicaments and possibilities they seek to direct attention to in their narratives and representations can be traced back to the genius and humanism of famous writers (Amos Tutuola comes to mind – see Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2017; Reference Nyamnjoh2024) and artists who have actively sought to resist victimhood and being completely consumed by a racialized colonial register of art, humanity and being modern. Since 1988, ‘Afropop Worldwide’, a US-produced Public Radio International podcast on the music cultures of Africa hosted by Georges Collinet, a diasporic Cameroonian,Footnote ⁸ has offered a fascinating archive of inspiring Afropolitanism of African sound in motion within and beyond the continent. The dispersion of African music and integration with other music forms across the world would be appreciated differently in less rigid articulations and conceptualizations of diasporas, especially when understood within an overarching framework of the universality of incompleteness and mobility.

Another Cameroonian, the Paris-based, accomplished musician Emmanuel N’Djoké Dibango – Manu Dibango – who succumbed to Covid-19 on 24 March 2020 at the age of eighty-six, was at the forefront of composing music as an African and about Africa in motion and non-zero-sum articulations of identities and identification by diasporic Africans in Europe. His diasporic credentials as a Cameroonian in Europe should be understood in conjunction and complementarity with his Douala origins, a city with a long history and appetite for migrants from all over Cameroon. His life and music were exemplary in the importance of the compositeness and conviviality that came with mobility and encounters. In his biography, published in collaboration with Danielle Rouard (Reference Dibango and Rouard1994), Manu Dibango described himself as ‘Négropolitain’ – a term that would later be adopted and popularized as Afropolitanism by others enthralled by his idea of grounded cosmopolitanism. He coined the term to capture his identity as Afro-European, ‘African and European at one and the same time’ (Dibango Reference Dibango and Rouard1994: 134). He saw himself and insisted on being seen as ‘a man between two cultures, two environments’ (Dibango Reference Dibango and Rouard1994: 88–130), whose music could not be confined to either without losing its complexity and richness as the fruit of his creative appropriation of diverse influences. Dibango articulates how cultural multiplicity can manifest in music. Too often, conversations of identity and the diaspora focus primarily on topics of the nation state and the struggles of being in the diaspora, rather than the beauty of conviviality that can come of it as well. As a consummate saxophonist, Dibango’s nimble fingers, voice and intellect were averse to any artificial barriers or attempts to contain the flow of the river of musical humanity. Manu Dibango, in his nimble-footed capacity to straddle geographies and identity margins, has left behind a towering record of Afropolitan musical genius of truly global magnitude, to feed and inspire many a generation to come.

Born from the fertile ground of cultural exchange and artistic innovation, the concept of Afropolitanism has blossomed beyond its origins in Manu Dibango’s musical remixing. What began with the autobiographical roots of ‘Négropolitain’ has evolved into a powerful framework for understanding the multifaceted nature of African identities in a globalized world. Afropolitanism grapples with the complexities of African experiences, encompassing transnational mobility, cultural hybridity and the ongoing effects of globalization.

Achille Mbembe, a fellow Cameroonian of Dibango, celebrates the fluidity and composite nature of these identities. He emphasizes how African identities have been shaped by a long history of movement, trade and intercultural exchange, arguing that Africanness is inherently convivial, embracing complexity and resisting any fixed or essentialist definition (Mbembe Reference Mbembe2001; Reference Mbembe, Njami and Durán2007).

Taiye Selasi, author of Ghana Must Go, further popularized the term Afropolitan in her influential essay ‘Bye-bye, Babar’ (Selasi Reference Selasi2005). She characterizes Afropolitans as globally mobile Africans who seamlessly blend their heritage with global influences. Selasi highlights a rising generation of young, urban Africans deeply engaged with global culture while maintaining a profound connection to their African roots. They navigate the modern, interconnected world with a fluidity reminiscent of Kojo Annan’s own evolving sense of home and belonging, as mentioned earlier. Afropolitanism offers a template for understanding composites in motion such as Zohran Kwame Mamdani – the Uganda-born Indian-American Muslim – who at the time of writing had just won the New York mayoral primaries for the Democratic party.Footnote ⁹

This celebration of hybridity, composite identities and flexible belonging resonates with Kwame Anthony Appiah’s cosmopolitanism, which champions ethical engagement with cultural diversity (Appiah Reference Appiah2006). It suggests that individuals, shaped by incompleteness in motion, should be free to embrace and navigate multiple identities without being confined by rigid definitions of authenticity or belonging (Geschiere and Gugler Reference Geschiere and Gugler1998; Geschiere Reference Geschiere2009). Similarly, Dagmawi Woubshet explores the emotional and relational aspects of African mobility, echoing Afropolitanism’s focus on the lived experiences of transnational Africans (Woubshet Reference Woubshet2015).

Afropolitanism thrives on agency and creativity, with mobility as its defining characteristic. This is vividly illustrated in Amos Tutuola’s transformative journeys (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2017) and Chinua Achebe’s proverbs that emphasize the enduring role of mobility in shaping identity (Nyamnjoh et al. Reference Nyamnjoh, Nwosu and Yosimbom2021). Being Afropolitan, like any identity, is an ongoing process, demanding nuanced understanding and adaptability to navigate its ever evolving complexities. This concept of Afropolitanism speaks to the expansive nature of belonging, recognizing the countless connections that shape us beyond our immediate circles. Identity is not fixed, but rather a journey of growth and enrichment through relationships. As the Igbo proverb used by Achebe states, ‘No condition is permanent,’ and he aptly compares the world to a ‘dancing masquerade’, constantly in motion and evolving with each step and interaction. Just like this masquerade, our identities as Africans are fluid, shaped by history, culture, global encounters and an inherent drive for growth. This dynamic perspective challenges static portrayals of Africa, often depicted as frozen in time and unchanging. The reality is a continent brimming with movement, innovation, and a profound understanding of impermanence. Achebe himself embodied this dynamism, weaving Igbo language and proverbs into his English writing, bridging cultures and constantly evolving as a writer and thinker (Nyamnjoh et al. Reference Nyamnjoh, Nwosu and Yosimbom2021).

This understanding of ‘being African’ has profound implications. It compels us to embrace incompleteness, acknowledge our interconnectedness, and approach the world with humility. Like the ‘complete gentleman’ in Tutuola’s stories, revealed to be a composite of borrowed parts, we must recognize that our achievements are built upon the contributions of others. This perspective is crucial today as we grapple with issues like Black Lives Matter and decolonization. It reminds us that true progress requires acknowledging past injustices, embracing our shared humanity, and engaging in dialogue that values diverse perspectives.

Afropolitanism thrives in literature, where narratives capture the nuances of African identity and identification in a globalized world. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah (Reference Adichie2013) offers a poignant exploration of migration, race and belonging, critiquing both the romanticization and commodification of African identities. Teju Cole’s Open City (Reference Cole2011) explores the complexities of displacement and memory in urban spaces, providing a reflective lens on the Afropolitan experience. NoViolet Bulawayo’s We Need New Names (Reference Bulawayo2013) further enriches this discourse by examining the tensions between local and global identities, offering a nuanced perspective on cultural negotiation.

Adichie’s Americanah, much like Taiye Selasi’s Ghana Must Go, eloquently explores diaspora as ‘incompleteness in motion’ through Ifemelu’s journey. Her experiences in America and Nigeria highlight the constant negotiation of identity inherent in diaspora. In America, she grapples with race, hair politics and the complexities of being a Black African immigrant. Upon returning to Nigeria, she feels like a stranger, transformed by her time abroad. This ongoing search for selfhood, shaped by living between worlds, embodies the incompleteness of the diasporic experience. Ifemelu’s movement between Nigeria and the US underscores the geographical and emotional displacement inherent in diaspora. She leaves Nigeria with hope, but encounters challenges and disillusionment in America. Her return is marked by unfamiliarity and a need to reintegrate. This constant shifting reflects the ‘motion’ of diaspora and the ongoing search for belonging. Her relationship with Obinze is also intertwined with this experience. Their separation, reunion and challenges reflect the impact of distance and displacement on love and intimacy. The longing for connection and rootedness underscores the emotional incompleteness that can accompany diaspora. Ifemelu embodies the hybridity often associated with diaspora, navigating different cultural landscapes and adapting to new norms while retaining aspects of her Nigerian identity. This constant redefinition of self contributes to the incompleteness in motion of being and becoming, a permanent work in progress. Ifemelu’s return to Nigeria is not a completion of her journey, but a new phase of self-discovery and reinvention. She must reconcile the person she has become with the life she left behind, highlighting the ongoing nature of diaspora as a process of becoming. Through Ifemelu, Americanah captures the complexities of diaspora as incompleteness in motion, portraying the ongoing negotiation of identity, the challenges of belonging, and the search for home in a world marked by displacement and cultural hybridity.

Similarly, Bulawayo’s We Need New Names illustrates this concept through the experiences of Darling and her friends. Growing up in Zimbabwe, their lives are marked by poverty, political instability and loss. Their displacement to the US, driven by a desire for a better life, creates a profound sense of longing for the familiar and a yearning for a home that is both lost and idealized. This sense of incompleteness fuels their motion towards an uncertain future. As they navigate different cultural landscapes, Darling and her friends grapple with fragmented identities. In America, they encounter new names, new languages and new social norms, forcing them to adapt and redefine themselves. This constant negotiation and reinvention highlights the fluidity and incompleteness of their identities in motion. The novel challenges the idea that migration brings completion or resolution. Despite their hopes, Darling and her friends find that America is not the promised land they imagined. They face racism, alienation and economic hardship. This disillusionment underscores the ongoing nature of diaspora as a process of continuous adjustment and adaptation, rather than a final destination. The novel also explores the emotional and psychological impact of displacement. The characters carry the weight of their experiences in Zimbabwe, including trauma, loss and a sense of rootlessness. This internal displacement contributes to their ‘incompleteness’ and fuels their search for belonging and meaning in a new environment. The title itself speaks to the idea of reinvention and the desire for a fresh start. The characters seek new names, new identities and new narratives to make sense of their experiences in diaspora. This search reflects their ongoing process of becoming, highlighting the motion inherent in their journey. Through the poignant and often humorous experiences of Darling and her friends, We Need New Names captures the complexities of diaspora as incompleteness in motion. It portrays the challenges of displacement, the fragmentation of identity, and the ongoing search for belonging in a world marked by change and uncertainty.

However, Afropolitanism is not without its detractors. Emma Dabiri, in Don’t Touch My Hair and What White People Can Do Next, challenges the perceived elitist and consumerist tendencies of Afropolitanism, arguing that it often prioritizes aesthetic and commodified representations over grassroots realities. Dabiri advocates for a more inclusive and intersectional understanding of African identities, one that acknowledges structural inequalities and amplifies marginalized voices (Dabiri Reference Dabiri2019; Reference Dabiri2021). Chielozona Eze challenges the prevailing notion of Afropolitanism, arguing that its focus on a privileged, globally mobile minority neglects the experiences of less affluent Africans (Eze Reference Eze2014; Reference Eze2016). In ‘We, Afropolitans’, he critiques the term’s association with elitism and consumerism, often portrayed in lifestyle magazines like The Afropolitan. However, Eze does not dismiss the concept entirely. Instead, he redefines it within a broader philosophical and ethical framework connected to cosmopolitanism. Eze contends that Afropolitanism represents a new way of being African in the twenty-first century. Drawing on the ideas of Taiye Selasi and Achille Mbembe, he portrays Afropolitans as individuals who bridge multiple cultural and geographical spaces, fostering inclusivity and transcultural understanding. He argues that Afropolitanism is not limited to those with privileged mobility but involves crossing psychological and cultural boundaries. Central to Eze’s argument is the concept of ‘interior mobility’, where Afropolitans demonstrate flexibility in their cultural identities and a commitment to relational ethics. This approach expands African identity to encompass diverse narratives and relationships, challenging rigid and exclusionary frameworks. Eze envisions Afropolitanism as fostering a universal narrative of interconnectedness, encouraging solidarity, empathy and shared humanity across differences. He reframes Afropolitanism as a dynamic, ethical stance that integrates African heritage with a global perspective, advocating for inclusivity and human flourishing over parochialism and exclusion (Eze Reference Eze2016).

Fiction and ethnography emerge as complementary tools for understanding the human dimensions of Afropolitanism. My ethnographic works, such as Intimate Strangers, capture the emotional and relational complexities of African mobility, aligning with Afropolitanism’s emphasis on navigating social and cultural boundaries (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2010). Adichie’s ‘The headstrong historian’ further contributes to this understanding by reflecting on historical encounters and the evolution of African identities, resonating with the concept’s focus on hybridity and cultural negotiation (Adichie Reference Adichie2009). The commodification of African identities constitutes another key theme within the Afropolitanism discourse. Jean and John Comaroff’s Ethnicity, Inc. critiques the market-driven branding of Africanness, a phenomenon that Afropolitanism simultaneously embodies and challenges (Comaroff and Comaroff Reference Comaroff and Comaroff2009). Platforms such as Afropolitan Magazine Footnote ¹⁰ further illustrate how African creativity, art and fashion are marketed globally, often blurring the lines between tradition and modernity.

Afropolitanism acts as a bridge between local and global identities, emphasizing fluidity, adaptability and agency. It brings to light the inherent tensions between being rooted in one place and having global aspirations, encouraging an embrace of this complexity. However, critics warn against the potential downsides of prioritizing neoliberal ideals often linked to Afropolitan discourse, especially if it comes at the expense of local struggles and histories. Afropolitanism articulates a vision of African identity that is dynamic, interconnected, and celebrates hybridity. It highlights the agency of Africans as they navigate both global and local worlds, offering a valuable way to understand contemporary African experiences. Nevertheless, it faces valid criticisms regarding elitism, commodification and exclusion. This challenges its proponents to broaden its scope and be more inclusive, ensuring it remains grounded in the diverse realities of African life, both within and beyond national borders, at home and abroad.

Afropean identifications beyond geographical boundaries

The concept of ‘Afropean’, a blend of ‘African’ and ‘European’, is used in the literature on Afropolitanism to describe the cultural identity and experiences of people of African descent living in Europe. This concept explores themes of identity, migration and cultural hybridity through various literary works. For instance, Johny Pitts’ travelogue Afropean: notes from Black Europe documents the lives and cultures of Black communities across Europe, offering insights into the complexities of Afropean identity and how individuals navigate their African heritage within European contexts (Pitts Reference Pitts2019). The anthology Francophone Afropean Literatures by Nicki Hitchcott and Dominic Thomas examines the relationship between Francophone African and European contexts through scholarly essays and creative works by authors such as Fatou Diome, Alain Mabanckou and Léonora Miano, highlighting the literary expressions of Afropean identities (Hitchcott and Thomas Reference Hitchcott and Thomas2014). Black, Brown, & Beige: surrealist writings from Africa and the diaspora by Franklin Rosemont and Robin D. G. Kelley features surrealist writings from African and diasporic authors, exploring themes of identity and cultural fusion that resonate with Afropean experiences (Rosemont and Kelley Reference Rosemont and Kelly2009).

However, limiting Afropean to Black Africans living in Europe is unduly confining. Manu Dibango, the Francophone Cameroonian who spent much of his life in Europe, transcended the Afropean label. Indeed, his compositeness seamlessly blended into ‘African, Afropolitan and Afropean belongings’, in a manner akin to Tutuola’s ‘complete gentleman’. His artistic accomplishments, widespread recognition and global reach meant his impact extended far beyond his physical presence in Europe. As his Belgian wife, Coco, aptly observed, ‘You’d do more for Africa far away from her’ (Dibango Reference Dibango and Rouard1994: 105–12). Dibango embodied this, demonstrating that his relevance to Africa transcended geographical boundaries. His passing invites a reconsideration of diasporic realities. If mobility is a constant and completion an illusion, can death, like life, be a form of dispersal, ensuring the continued flow of cultural influence and identity? Dibango’s legacy challenges conventional understandings of place and presence, suggesting that even in death, his contribution to Africa and its diaspora remains vital and evolving. This aligns with the perspective of death not as an end, but as a symbolic transition into another form of being that bridges the past, present and future for the sake of life’s continuous flow (Cole and Somda Reference Cole and Somda2024).

I propose expanding the term Afropean to include individuals of European descent who possess deep and primary connections to Africa or a specific African nation. This would encompass groups like Afrikaners and descendants of figures such as Cecil John Rhodes in Southern Africa, who consider an African country their primary home. Such a broadened definition could foster a more inclusive dialogue about hybrid identities and belonging on the African continent, echoing the sentiment in Thabo Mbeki’s ‘I am an African’ speech: ‘I am formed of the migrants who left Europe to find a new home on our native land. Whatever their own actions, they remain still, part of me.’Footnote ¹¹ This wider scope would, for instance, help explain how Elon Musk can assert simultaneous belonging to Canada, the USA and South Africa, and how he has wielded significant influence within, for example, the current Trump administration. Until their apparent fallout in June 2025,Footnote ¹² this influence was evident when, according to Howard French, President Trump stated at a White House meeting with President Ramaphosa and his delegation that it was Elon Musk who pushed for the topic of alleged genocide against white Afrikaner farmers in South Africa to be discussed. French further remarks: ‘Trump was likely influenced by Musk, who bears deep and unresolved personal grievances about the society he grew up in amid great privilege. (Just a day before Ramaphosa visited the White House, Musk berated an interviewer at a conference in Qatar for not acknowledging South Africa’s supposedly “racist” laws.)’Footnote ¹³ This position was also echoed by Paul Spickard, a distinguished professor of history at the University of California at Santa Barbara and a fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute for Advanced Study (STIAS) at the time, in a letter to the editor of the Los Angeles Times:

In South Africa, Afrikaners, their literature and related articulations of identity exemplify how this expanded understanding of Afropean can be meaningful and enriching to identity discourses framed around nimble-footedness and nimble-mindedness. As Vitali Beukes argues, the interchangeable use of ‘Afrikaans’, ‘Afrikaner’ and ‘South African’ reflects a complex and evolving relationship with national identity. The concept of African identity is similarly intricate for Afrikaners, varying individually and complicated by the term’s frequent association with Blackness. This association leads some Afrikaners to distance themselves from the label, while others use ‘South African’ to avoid it, highlighting the racial complexities of South African identity. While some Afrikaners maintain a strong connection to South Africa even after emigrating, others express feelings of displacement in post-apartheid South Africa, further complicating their national identity. Afrikaner identity, particularly in relation to ‘South African’ and ‘African’, continues to evolve in post-apartheid South Africa, shaped by ongoing negotiations influenced by historical context, racial dynamics and personal experiences (Beukes Reference Beukes2024).

Afrikaner identity is fundamentally shaped by a dynamic interplay of continuity and change, with mobility as a central characteristic. This mobility, encompassing both geographical movement and social adaptation, contributes to a multifaceted and composite sense of self. Beukes employs the concept of ‘incompleteness’ to frame Afrikaner identity as an ongoing process of ‘becoming’, emphasizing its fluid and evolving nature. This negotiation of identity is particularly evident in how Afrikaners manage their values in new environments, balancing the preservation of traditions with adapting to different cultural contexts. Language, specifically Afrikaans, remains a key element, though its meaning and use are also subject to negotiation within the evolving social landscape of South Africa. Mobile Afrikaners entertain a complex relationship with ‘home’ and displacement, in how ‘home’ can encompass both current residence and a continued connection to South Africa, alongside feelings of estrangement tied to post-apartheid changes (Beukes Reference Beukes2024). Therefore, the concept of Afropean lends itself to understanding Afrikaners not merely as ‘Europeans’ or ‘whites’ escaping post-apartheid policies of restitution, such as land expropriationFootnote ¹⁵ – and real or imagined ‘genocide’Footnote ¹⁶ – but as mobile Africans within the continent and also as diasporic Africans elsewhere, for example in Europe, North America, Australia and New Zealand.

DNA technology and Afropolitan identification

The surging interest among African Americans in using DNA technology to trace their African ancestry (Comaroff and Comaroff Reference Comaroff and Comaroff2009; Nelson Reference Nelson2016)Footnote ¹⁷ suggests that Afropolitanism holds far greater potential than merely describing the cosmopolitan leanings of recent African diasporas. Instead, it can be reimagined as a powerful framework for understanding how descendants of the enslaved, scattered across the globe, actively reconstruct and celebrate their African identity. This reconstruction occurs within the confines of nation states where their ancestors were brutally dehumanized under racialized capitalism, forcing a negotiation between imposed or transactional citizenship and a much more complex and inclusive yearning for belonging.

Afropolitanism, recognizing the fluid and evolving nature of identity, offers a robust framework for comprehending the diverse experiences of African diasporas. It provides a lens through which to explore the intricate historical and cultural dimensions of ‘being African’ in a world still grappling with racial prejudice. This framework powerfully illuminates the shared vulnerabilities faced by all people of African descent, irrespective of their self-defined identities or nationalities. It helps explain the persistent racist attacks endured by Black footballers in EuropeFootnote ¹⁸ – players such as Kylian MbappéFootnote ¹⁹ and Vinicius Jr,Footnote ²⁰ who, despite their ethnically (thanks to DNA) ‘Cameroonian’ (Sawa and Tikar) heritage, are identified as French and Brazilian, respectively. This phenomenon underscores how deeply ingrained racialized thinking transcends individual narratives and national borders, targeting individuals based on their perceived racial identity rather than their nationality or self-identification. It would be profoundly enriching for identification with Africa to draw inspiration from such defiant racism, or from events like the Covid-19 pandemic, to challenge containment by narrow nationalism and its rigid borders (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2022b).

Furthermore, as evidenced in the works of Amos Tutuola (Reference Tutuola1952; Reference Tutuola1954), Phaswane Mpe (Reference Mpe2001), James Jibraeel Alhaji (Reference Alhaji and Nyamnjoh2015) and Jonny Steinberg (Reference Steinberg2015), and in my own writing (Nyamnjoh Reference Nyamnjoh2008; Reference Nyamnjoh2010), Afropolitanism can also illuminate endogenous dispersals and connections within the African continent itself. This enables an understanding of African cosmopolitanism that is not solely defined by encounters with the West.

This concept of Afropolitanism as ‘incompleteness in motion’ can be further applied to the complexities of Europeans in Africa and Africans in Europe, effectively capturing the nuances of these intertwined experiences, much like the notion of Afropean evoked by the ECAS conference. While the nation state may not be obsolete, its inherent inconveniences and rigid policies regarding adaptability require urgent attention if we are to grant it significant relevance in future thinking, research and articulation of African identity as an incompleteness in motion.