Acknowledgments

One evening in the fall of 2002, my father sat me in a hotel room in Nairobi. I had been suspended from school weeks before the national university entrance exam, and my mum had refused to take me back to school. She had done so on prior occasions and finally put her foot down, saying it was time my father took me back. My dad was scheduled to travel to Europe on a work-related trip, which he postponed to take me back. This is why we were sitting in a hotel room that evening in 2002. My dad looked at me and asked me to read instead of study. He said the time for studying would come, but this was not it. All he wanted from me was a grade that would get me into university. He didn’t want me to be an A student and asked me to give him at least something he could work with. Two decades after that fateful night, it strikes me that this book is the fruit of a decade of studying. My one regret is that my father is not here to share this moment with me.

As much as I dislike it when people talk about “African sayings” when trying to sound sagacious, allow me to paraphrase one that captures my writing experience. Writing this book took a village – a village whose boundaries are transnational in scope and multidisciplinary in tradition. Nonetheless, I will try my best to capture its members. I have to thank Joachim Savelsberg and David Pellow for their guidance, mentorship, and patience. In the classic good-cop–bad-cop tradition, they nudged and cajoled me into constantly pushing myself during long, cold Minnesota winters. To Joachim, who has consistently made me a better human being and scholar; welcomed me to his home on numerous occasions for dinner and deadline reminders; was always ready with an apt sociological observation whenever I found myself floundering and/or doubting myself; set what seemed like impossible deadlines and yet guided me into meeting them with time to spare; and who saw in me potential I often did not see and kept faith that I would reach it. Thank you. To David, who sat me down in the summer of 2010 and reminded me that graduate school would be all-consuming and that I needed to be sure I was ready; who was always willing to remind me of the importance of my work even when I doubted it myself; who never once dissuaded me from seemingly hairbrained ideas but always made sure to remind me to stay focused; and who gave me the first opportunity to conduct sociological research. Thank you.

I also benefitted from mentorships and friendships of tremendous people. To Teresa Gowan, thank you for introducing me to the theory and scholarship that underpins this project’s theoretical engagement. To Barbara Frey and Cawo Abdi, thank you for always being available to meet and share ideas while providing much needed guidance. To Alejandro Baer, thank you for reminding me that behind all the data and theories are human beings and for reminding me to always value relationships and keep the concerns of those we write about at the forefront of any project. To the Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies and the Human Rights Program, thank you for the multitude of opportunities to plug into your respective communities and for connecting me with various scholars from around the world.

To Joe Svec, thank you for great conversations and the constant reminder of how far we had come when I despaired. To Miray Phillips and Brooke Chambers, thank you for the late night and early morning discussions about various projects we worked on and being ever willing to read and give feedback on the drafts I sent your way. In Kenya, I would like to thank Olando Olembo and Juliet Nyambura. Two friends who opened their homes multiple times when I was in town. For the countless conversations about our experiences at Moi University, the coffees, the lunches, and foolhardy trips to parts unknown, I thank you.

I thank the journalists for taking the time to talk to me. Though you remain nameless due to the precarious nature of your work, I thank you all for agreeing to speak honestly about the challenges you face while trying to construct knowledge about atrocities such as Darfur. Thank you for risking your lives to go into dangerous places to inform the rest of the world about the plight of fellow Africans. I hope I have represented your words in ways that capture the essence of our conversations. I also want to thank the late Mandy Rossouw for giving a tired, severely jetlagged, and nervous graduate student his first ever interview.

I began working on this manuscript as a fellow at the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society. While in Cambridge, I met my future wife, Kikelomo Aluko Wahutu. Your kindness, love, support, and patience made the transition from Minneapolis to Cambridge much easier. The care with which you remind me to stay on track, the support you have given me through the various submissions and research trips, and the moments in which you remind me to celebrate the little wins are what this book is. You have brought immeasurable light and joy to my life.

I am grateful to my family. My siblings, Maggie Wahutu-Aduayi and Jonathan Wahutu, have been my biggest cheerleaders while reminding me that my big brother duties are essential and central to anything I do. Dami Aduayi and Osasu Aduayi, thank you for always being understanding when I missed family events. To my niece Amelia Rebecca Amondi Aduayi and my nephew Anaya Frederick Aduayi, I am appreciative of your insistence that I fulfill my responsibilities as an uncle regardless of where in the world I may be. Thank you to Duncan Okello, without whom this journey would never have started. Through all the trying times and personal losses that bookended the dissertation that is the foundation of this book, Ruth and Tade Okediji have been there for me. Thank you both for opening your home to me on several occasions. Your generosity, kindness, support, and unconditional love humble me. To Dr. Akinyele Aluko and Dr. Shirley Houston Aluko, thank you for welcoming me into your home and family. Thank you for your support and curiosity about this project over the years.

Finishing the project at New York University has been richly invigorating. My colleagues in the department of Media, Culture, and Communication (MCC) warmly welcomed me into the department. Rodney Benson read various drafts of this manuscript and was generous with his feedback and his pushing and prodding. Paula Chakravartty has repeatedly asked questions that helped me clarify my arguments. To my mentorship committee, Allen Feldman, Arvind Rajagopal, and Juan Pinon, thank you for all the advice as I worked on this and other projects. To Kelli Moore, Laine Nooney, Whit Pow, and Angela Xiao Wu, thank you for your support in settling into MCC and NYU while trying to figure out the maze that is publishing. I am grateful to my undergraduate and graduate students whose questions about my project in classes and one-on-one meetings often caused me to pause and think about my assumptions and my own blind spots. I thank Osman M Osman, Zhuoru Deng, and Elsie Ogunsanya for their research assistance on this project.

The African Studies Workshop at Harvard’s Center for African Studies allowed me to present earlier portions of this book. The questions and feedback from this presentation led to the strengthening of several parts of the manuscript. The Rutgers Comparative Literature Seminar participants provided perceptive comments that clarified some theoretical interventions. Fellows at the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society have also been gracious with their time and feedback at different moments in the preparation of this manuscript. So too the participants of the April 2024 Center for the Study of African Societies and Economies at Harvard.

I want to thank Wunpini Mohammed, whose paper on Bilchiinsi philosophy gave me the language to unpack thoughts that had been swirling in my head about specific arguments. I am indebted to Hayes Mabweazara, Hollie Nyseth Nzitarira, Nikki Usher, Ruth Moon and Chris Mungai for their kind words on this book. Thank you to the staff at CUP, Sarah Doskow (now at Chicago Press), Rachel Blaifeder, Jadyn Fauconier-Herry, Chloe Quinn, and Becky Jackaman, in conjunction with Narmadha Nedounsejiane, for believing in and shepherding this project. To my copy-editor, Craig Willse, thank you for your insightful feedback during the early stages.

Before concluding, I have to thank my parents. I remember the perplexed voices when I called to tell them that I wanted to apply to a sociology PhD department rather than law school. My mom, Dorothy Wahutu (Dee), has given up on trying to explain to her friends exactly what it is that I do but has continually provided support whenever I needed to engage with bureaucracy in my home country. My dad, Fred Wahutu, would shake his head incredulously at the fact that I was even in a PhD department, especially after that 2002 talk. Sitting in that hotel room that night in 2002, it was clear that he saw something in me despite all my high-school shenanigans. He was the most intelligent person I had ever met, and as the firstborn child, I have always worried that I would never measure up – a worry that has turned into acceptance. Nonetheless, my parents’ support and love have been unending and unequivocal, and for that I am eternally indebted.