The brainchild of the MIT Media Lab, the so-called $100 laptop wasn’t quite the hit its makers thought it would be in Southern Hemisphere countries, so One Laptop per Child created an offer in which those with the bucks could make a $399 donation — and one laptop would be donated to a kid somewhere in a poor country and one would be sent to the donor. Which is how on Christmas Eve at around 4 p.m. I heard a thud outside my door and opened it to find this:

There has been a lot of criticism of this project: The money could have gone for library books instead; the model is too American; the machines are overpriced as the Indians say they can create a $10 laptop. Nigeria ordered a million, then decided to reassess the deal.

I’ve said all along that the computers wouldn’t end up with poor kids because Westerners would scarf them up. I guess I proved my own point here.

 

This blog has been on a long break but I hope to resume posting this week.

A San Diego military contractor will work with military personnel in Ethiopia, Ghana, Niger, and Nigeria to build  "an information-sharing system" of high-speed Internet connections for African countries, according to the Los Angeles Times. 

The scheme is part of the US military pacification of Africa as it establishes the so-called Africa Command, called Africom, which the US State Department describes this way: "Instead of focusing on purely military tasks, the command will emphasize
humanitarian missions, civil affairs and helping nations improve
regional border and maritime security." Just another aid agency — with really big guns.  (See the YouTube question that wasn’t asked of the US Presidential candidates about this plan. For a general consideration of YouTube and the debates, see Jewels in the Jungle’s post.)

Pambazuka News reported that Western and supposedly Africa-friendly media were flogging the initial idea that Africom would save Liberia, which prompted some sharp opposition. 

In fact, The Guardian reported earlier in the summer that Africom had been scaled back to follow a "network" model because African governments were not greeting the idea with open arms.  So, this information-sharing system is being set up for who, exactly?

Tired of Darfur? 

Apparently news editors are, says Anne Penketh of the Independent who calls it "editor fatigue" with the story, making it difficult for reporters to convince their bosses to continue devoting resources to its coverage. Penketh was one of the speakers on a spring panel about media coverage of Darfur at Roehampton University in London. Video of the speakers has just been posted.

One of the reasons editors may be bored with the story is that every report seems, well, kind of the same.
Reuters’ Sean MacGuire noted there is a
sporadic nature to coverage with reporters coming in new to the story or returning only after long delays and having to retell information that has already been reported. So it  can feel as if the same story is
written over and over again, rather than unearthing new angles and
approaches.

Professor David Campbell of Durham University confirmed these tendenices with evidence from his research on newspaper photos
of Darfur, finding that over a two-year period 2/3
were of refugees.  The images were so  repetitive that they worked more as icons
conveying particular attitudes as opposed to different pieces of
information. In addition, photos taken at one point in time were then recycled to illustrate a completely different idea at a later day.

And finally, former BBC reporter Greg Barrow notes, the amount of internal movement of refugees has leveled off, thus making the story less dynamic for news outlets to cover.  There is an unfortunate feeling, he says, "this story has been told too many times." 

Barrow, who moved from journalism to working in PR for the World Food Program said the lack of sustained mainstream media interest is leading aid workers to become reporters, collecting video, blogging and trying other means of getting the story out.

Many thanks to Professor Kate Wright, formerly of the BBC and now at Roehampton, for sharing these links.

Ugandan journalist Richard Kavuma of The Weekly Observer has been awarded CNN’s  MultiChoice African Journalism Award for his coverage of how Uganda is working toward meeting the Millennium Development Goals.  Thanks to BRE at JewelsintheJungle for
pointing this out. In outlining Kavuma’s
accomplishments,
he asks why the award is so little publicized in the African blogosphere.  (Probably because most of the sources African blogs link to are are not African!)

But this got me to thinking about other awards I am familiar with
that often spotlight African journalists. These frequently seem to be targeted at journalists in serious
trouble for their reporting. For example, the International Women’s Media Foundation whose award winners tend to
have been harassed, jailed, even tortured, and raped. Some end up dead.

Part of the rationale for giving the awards is to bring international
attention to the journalists with the aim of keeping their home enemies (often
governments, sometimes drug cartels and other criminal groups) at bay. I’ve always much admired these organizations
for attempting to save the lives of valiant reporters around the world.

But BRE’s post has made me see the complexities of these
awards: They tend to exclude reporting
and reporters who are excellent but not at risk. So that we in the West see a portrait of
journalism which is always under threat and this then plays into stereotypes of
both a continent in chaos and the notion that the West has the power to save
Africa.

Half of all African countries surveyed believe international news coverage of their country is fair, according to a report just released by The Pew Global Attitudes Project.  This includes Senegal, South Africa, Kenya, Tanzania, Mali and to a lesser extent Uganda.

Nigeria, Ghana, Ivory Coast and Ethiopia don’t agree.  In particular, Ethiopians (a whopping 71 percent) see their country’s image distorted by foreign reporting.   (Which might account for the nasty send-off BBC reporter Andrew Heavens of Meskel Square got on his blog when he relocated from Addis to Khartoum.) 

The poll consisted of face-to-face interviews with more than 8,000 adults in 10 African countries, and is summarized in the New York Times, which interestingly, chose to illustrate the story with a photo of Nigerian poll workers in this spring’s disputed election.  A multimedia graphic of the table to the right is also included in the Times coverage.

I’m not sure what the pattern is here — other than Eastern and Southern Anglo Africans believe they are getting a fairer portrait than Western Anglo African countries.  Do international reporters spend more time in the East and South?  Tend to be based in those regions and thus likely to develop more nuanced ideas about them leading to more favorable coverage? Hmm. . .    

  Koranteng Ofosu-Amaah of the creative and sometimes lyrical
blog, “Koranteng’s Toli,” sent along a link (thanks!) to a rather wonky policy
document, African Opinion on U.S. Policies, Values and People,  presented as testimony to a U.S. House
of Representatives subcommittee last spring that mixes and matches some opinion survey data
to reveal that Africans who get most of their news from television tend not to
hate the U.S.

Seeing as how just about everyone has come to loathe ‘merica
these days (thanks George!) this is a rather surprising conclusion provided by
Cornell Asst. Prof Devra C. Moehler, who further argues that in contrast, using the Internet
or listening to the radio makes Africans less likely to feel warm and fuzzy
about the U.S.

The reason: Television tends to be state-owned in Africa
and less likely to criticize the U.S. or other Western governments. Radio is more likely to be private and hence more critical.

What’s so ironic about these findings, if true, is that U.S.
policy has long supported privatizing the continent’s media system. Be careful what you wish for, eh?

Two African American actors have been cast as the leads in the film based on Alexander McCall Smith’s No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, the first of a highly lucrative series of mysteries set in Botswana.

I have ranted about this book previously — why is a Scottish medical professor a top selling "African" novelist? Why is a white guy getting noticed by the Booker  Prize for assuming the persona of his so-called "lady detective" Mma Precious Ramotswe?

The Botswana government is aglow over the whole thing with the LA Times quoting their  tourism minister as saying, " ‘Africa for the first time will be shown in its true warmth and welcoming spirit.’ "  I can see it now, if the film is a hit, soon after will come the busloads of middle aged white women traipsing around Gaborone looking for salt-of-the-earth African women to have their photos taken with.  Quick erect some grass huts, bring in some lions!

A number of bloggers have posted about the recent TED Africa conference whose speakers included a range of highly successful, intelligent African women.  Yeah well, forget them. With Oscar-winning Brit Anthony Minghella set to direct "No 1 Ladies," this film will supply not only the movie’s audience but millions of others who merely view the commercials with the dominant image of African women circa 2007: a  folksy throwback to the colonial era. Just in time for Christmas.

A university student has written to this blog with some interesting questions regarding celebrity.  I have a go at answering these below.

1) Given the advances in technology that now allow citizens of any country to directly access the popular culture of another country (e.g. music, films, art), why do people living in the global north continue to
receive more information about situations in Africa from the few Western celebrities "caring about Africa" than from the many African ones trying to push the same message? (Why do people seem to be more influenced by their similiarity with the source than the source’s actual level of expertise/connection with the cause?)

What do you mean by celebrity?  Do you mean Wole Soyinka?  He’s a
globally known author, but I wouldn’t count him as a celebrity. I think of
celebrities as more associated with pop culture and, well, generally less
weighty. So, do you mean simply famous or something more specific?

The West or North dominates global media
structures and flow (much research has documented this).  More specifically, reporters often have
to go with the easiest-to-access sources.  A Western celebrity with an entourage of handlers and PR flaks is a lot of easier to get a juicy quote from. Enlarging the Rolex is
difficult. 

(Actually my first piece of advice would be to pose such questions on a range of
African blogs — African Loft would be a good place to start and see
what people have to say.  Update: Also I should have said to visit the blogs of anyone commenting on the previous posts about this issue — all are thoughtful and have a range of views)

2) Can an African celebrity affect the politics of his country and, if so, by what mechanisms and to what extent?

You might consider the case of the song, "Unbwogable," which was said
to have played a role in shaping the Kenyan general election a few
years back.  See the excellent study:  Nyairo, J. & Ogude, J.
(2004).  Popular music, popular politics,: Unbwogable and the idioms of
freedom in Kenyan popular music.  Africa Affairs, 104(415), 225-249.

See also Nigeria’s Fela, Zim’s Thomas Mapfumo, etc. or more recently, Kenya’s Eric Wainain.

So one way to answer this is to pick an African celebrity (my recommendation would be from South Africa, Nigeria or Kenya) and follow from there, examining local media coverage for starters. 

3) Can a Western celebrity affect the politics of an African country and, if so, by what mechanisms and to what extent?

Well, Bono is having an effect, it would seem, just not the one many people would want.   But on the other hand, look at Danny Glover and consider the recent release of "Bamako."

It also hinges on what you mean by effect.  Raising awareness or something more complicated like getting people to take action (which is much more difficult to accomplish).   And BTW, I think the potential impact of the African diaspora — whether celebs or not — is under-explored.

4) Ultimately, who has more power over the politics of an African country — a Western celebrity or a local (African) celebrity? Basically, do external forces (foreigners) shape African politics more so than internal pressures (citizens)?

That’s pretty broad.  A Western celebrity would likely have more power over international institutions and Western governments than an African one because they have access to greater resources and social capital.  As for internally within an African country, I dunno.  An African celeb could certainly be punished more easily, but he or she is more likely to be able to connect with their own people, speak the local language etc.

Finally, for a university research project, you might do well to consider specific case studies and work outward from there. Africa is simply too large and diverse to consider as a whole for a doable research project. 

Ladybrille in the comments below wrote: "the real issue for me is not why White media tells African stories. It is when will Africans unite as one and tell their own story. UNITE
being key. As much as it is great to love your own, there is power in
numbers and solidarity."

It seems to me that’s a key issue that is embodied in the rise of media efforts like the business channel CNBC Africa and MTV Base Africa lauded in "Hope and Profit in Africa" in the current issue of Forbes (Yes, another US magazine devoting its cover story to Africa this month!)   

Are these initiatives uniting Africans merely as consumers rather than as citizens?  As market groups instead of political constituencies?   And what does that mean in the long run for this new generation? 

CNBC Africa has just launched, so we don’t know its impact yet. But MTV Africa is a couple of years old and already said to attract 50 million young African viewers.  Both are aimed at audiences in the same place: Anglo Africa:  Ghana,  Kenya, Nigeria, South
Africa, Uganda
and Tanzania.  Together, these are said to include half of the
continent’s GDP and nearly as much of its population. 

Forbes argues the MTV channel is a
"significant marker of the many changes–and a new kind of hope–that
capitalism and technology are bringing to a land of heartbreak and
broken economies." Now they’re talking of Nickelodeon Africa and who knows what else.

In a way, these channels do what Ladybrille calls for — they seek to unite Africans.

But this unification also means commercialization, consumerism, and homogenization.  There is a telling little detail buried in the Forbes story:
When Africans first started submitting music videos, Western producers
had to  coach them on "professional" production values going so far as
to send materials to copy.  So much for originality! 

The article goes on to provide this nugget:

MTV Africa’s Nigerian born executive "organized an all-night
dance party in Luanda, Angola, a country just out of civil war that’s
now in the middle of an oil boom. Nokia sponsored the event, which cost
$60 a ticket, or 16 days of wages for an average Angolan; 4,500 people
attended, and 2,000 had to be turned away. MTV filmed the sold-out bash
for broadcast and created radio features, phone messages and other
brand-building plays around the party."

Forbes is gaga that these sorts of events are happening all over Africa with MTV audiences. On the one hand, this is a great example of an Africa that is seldom
seen in the Western media: Young, wired hipsters.  But on the other, Angola seems to have a lot of
other more pressing needs than luxury product-themed dance parties. (In a similar vein, Emmanuel K. Bensah of AfricanLoft writes about hopping into a share taxi in Accra recently and watching  a guy using his blackberry, and wondering about the nature of so-called modernization.)

So I ask again: Who is being united and for what reason or cause, if any (other than profit)? Will Africans come together merely as a target market, engineered by Western companies who shout stage directions from the not-so-invisible sidelines? I wonder.