To borrow the words of Rolling Stone journalist Matt Taibbi, graft in Kenya “is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money”.

Audacious, multi-billion-shilling, high-level scams permeate the Kenyan government and much of the country’s economic system. The Hansard of 17 April 2003 records that a third of Kenya’s revenues have been stolen over the last two decades. Prof Peter Anyang’ Nyong’o, then minister for Planning and National Development, told Parliament, “We know for certain that we have been losing about KSh68 billion through corruption and mismanagement.” The European Commission’s Joint Research Centre and the Kenya Institute of Public Policy Research both also report that in the financial year 2002/3, the government lost KSh205 billion in revenues through graft-related activities, a third of the national budget.

But the recent heist in the oil sector shows how monstrous the thieves have become. Exposing the scam in a press statement on 16 November 2023, Hon Raila Odinga referred to President William Ruto’s government-to-government oil deal as a grand scam hatched to shield oil cartels and to enable three Kenyan companies to fleece the government. The oil deal created a three-company monopoly, Gulf Energy, Galana Oil Kenya Ltd, and Oryx Energies Kenya Ltd, choking the oil industry with inflated oil prices. The clash between Anne Njeri, two Cabinet Secretaries, and Galana Energies over the ownership of diesel worth KSh17 billion, is just a tip of the looting going on. Busia Senator Okiya Omtatah linked the source of the billions mentioned in the oil controversy to the KSh17,224,718,718,632 withdrawn from the National Treasury in June 2023 at the closure of the 2022/2023 Financial Year, ostensibly to subsidise unnamed “private financial enterprises”. In a press statement on 17 November 2023, Hon Omtatah tabled evidence of the government’s unlawful withdrawal of another KSh42,965,290,402 from the consolidated fund, a sum that was allocated to the Ministry of Petroleum as “subsidies to private financial enterprises”. This was done without parliamentary authority as required by law.

This single act of graft will dent the economy and negatively affect millions of Kenyans. In August this year, the government allowed Oryx Energies to sell oil at prices inflated by 17 per cent: having bought the diesel at US$97.88 (KSh14,182) per barrel, Oryx Energies sold it to other oil marketing companies (OMCs) at US$114.5 (KSh16,585) per barrel.

The removal of oil subsidies and the increase in VAT charges in July this year caused a drop in the sale of petrol and diesel to record levels. For example, consumption of Super petrol dropped from 1,074 billion litres to 1.01 billion litres in the six months to June 2023 – a five per cent dip. During the same period, sales of diesel dropped by 4 per cent, from 1.36 billion litres to 1.31 billion litres. The Kenya Revenue Authority, which takes KSh21.95 per litre of Super bought, and KSh11.37 per litre of diesel and kerosene, will experience a drop in revenues with this fall in consumption. The Treasury is staring at dwindling revenues in the current financial year. The 2023 Budget Review and Outlook Paper observes that “given this revenue shortfall, the projections for FY 2023/24 have an estimated revenue risk of Sh133.5 billion”. According to the paper, the decline in oil volumes, motor vehicle imports, and deliveries of domestic excisable goods such as cosmetics, beer, and spirits also explains this shortfall in excise duty.

To avoid inflated fuel prices of up to 59 per cent, on 16 November Ms Ruth Nankabirwa, Uganda’s minister of Energy and Mineral Development, announced that Uganda will no longer purchase petroleum products from Kenya. A landlocked country, Uganda imports more than 90 per cent of its fuel through the port of Mombasa and the remainder through Tanzania’s Dar es Salaam Port. In 2023, the volume ferried via Kenya Pipeline has dropped from 70 per cent to 52 per cent. This implies that Kenya will lose the up to US$100 million (KSh15.23 billion) it has been earning every year from handling Uganda’s petroleum and related products. Approximately 40 per cent of the fuel imported by Kenya is re-exported – mainly through Uganda – to the Democratic Republic of Congo and South Sudan. The transit volumes account for 51 per cent of the revenues of Kenya Pipeline Company, an average of KShs2.6 billion per month. So, other than making petroleum products more costly, the deal is going to kill the Kenya Pipeline Company as soon as this year.

The statutory oversight institutions entrusted to guard Kenyan resources, such as the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission (EACC), the Directorate of Criminal Investigations (DCI), and the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP), are moribund at both the national and county levels. Busy playing courtier to the political elites, they seem unable to detect that the governing elites and their associates are siphoning out money from government coffers.

Other than making petroleum products more costly, the deal is going to kill the Kenya Pipeline Company as soon as this year.

If we are to fight graft, we need to reconsider the tempo and energy of the EACC chairperson. Every president appoints a “useful” head of this institution; indeed, the corrupt elites would not countenance the appointment of an independent, opinionated, exuberant, and sharp-on-law chairperson. No wonder members of parliament hounded Prof. Patrick L. O. Lumumba out of office in August 2011. His successor, Philip Kinisu, did not last; he was implicated in the KSh791 million National Youth Service corruption scandal.

President Uhuru Kenyatta cleverly chose the retired Archbishop Eliud Wabukala to succeed Kinisu at the EACC in 2016, since the bishop would neither be entangled in graft and nor would he wield a razor-sharp sword to cut through corruption. As if on cue, President William Ruto also chose a bishop for this position. I understand Hon. Gichoki Kaguchia’s misgivings who, during Bishop David Oginde’s confirmation hearing, doubted the ability of the religious figures to ably head the anti-corruption body. EACC Chief Executive Officer Twalib Mbarak claimed that during Archbishop Wabukala’s six years at the helm of the EACC, the organisation had become “a stable, professional, and reliable Anti-Corruption Agency that is committed to effectively discharge his mandate to the people of Kenya. EACC is a solid organisation with strategic and policy direction but fights against corruption”. In effect, under Wabukala, the agency had successfully pursued the forfeiture of unexplained wealth and assets obtained through graft worth approximately KSh33 billion. Approximately KSh22.8 billion worth of unexplained wealth and assets obtained corruptly had also been surrendered. But Archbishop Wabukala’s impact on the war on graft is not convincing for it is alleged that KSh2 billion was plundered daily under his watch.

We had hung our hopes on Dr Oginde, the highly respected and accomplished leadership expert whom President William Ruto appointed to the Ethics Anti-Corruption Commission. He came to the war on graft with a sharper vision than his predecessors. No commentator has written more consistently, more critically, against corruption in the Kenyan press than Bishop Oginde. He has written over twenty articles in the past six years, covering taboo scandals from Goldenberg to the latest outrage.

Oginde’s commitment to “contribute to our country” in the fight against corruption was clear during his confirmation hearing. When Hon John Makali, member of parliament for Lugari, asked him, “Have you familiarised yourself with the legislation for anti-corruption? Do you think there is a lacuna in the laws, and if so, what do you suggest we should do?” Oginde suggested expediting corruption cases within a strict timeline. He suggested proposing laws limiting the hearing and determination of graft cases to three months. But Hon. John Makali doubted his preparedness and thought Oginde was unfit for the EACC position.

No commentator has written more consistently, more critically, against corruption in the Kenyan press than Bishop Oginde.

It having been agreed that neither the law nor the legislation were the problem, Hon Stephen Mogaka demanded of Oginde that he propose “specific action to exorcise the demon of corruption”. Indeed, concrete measures are needed if we are to solve the corruption problem.

But who will drive out of Kenya this malevolent ghost raiding public funds?

The challenges of exorcising Kenya’s spiteful ghosts of graft bring to mind a ghost-casting story from Central Gem in the 1940s. In Traditional Ideology and Ethics among the Southern Luo, Prof. Ocholla Ayayo narrates how a girl’s ghost returned to haunt her family. She had died before her father could give her hand away in marriage. This was taboo among the Luo. She would appear as a ghost, demanding an explanation for not having been allowed to marry. At other times she would cook and care for the children, and do household chores as well. This frightened the parents who found no respite, despite calling on various exorcists.

After some time, the man chanced upon a reputed jadil (exorcist) from Ugenya and engaged him immediately. The exorcist arrived to find an empty home; the family had gone to harvest a distant farm. Jadil waited alone in the homestead and as he pondered what to do, he spotted a girl sweeping the cattle shed. The girl abandoned her work, entertained him, gave him a drink of water and cooked him a meal of chicken.

Upon their return, the family found the jadil laying out his paraphernalia ready to take instructions. Pointing to the back of the house where he thought the girl had gone, he commended the parents for having such an industrious daughter who had entertained him in their absence. The awestruck father quipped, “Mano nende e en!” (That was the one!). The Jadil had been a guest of the ghost they had hired him to expel. The terrified Jadil gathered his tools and fled!

Could it be that the good bishop, like the jadil, is entangled with the corruption he is supposed to vanquish? For, as soon as Oginde began his term, President Ruto’s government prosecutors withdrew several corruption cases brought against his allies. Even though in July 2022 a Kenyan court had ordered Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua to repay KSh202 million (US$1.65 million) having determined that the sum constituted the proceeds of corruption, the ruling was mysteriously reversed and Gachagua refunded. Graft in Kenya is inextricably intertwined with governance.

Although Oginde affirmed that the best way to fight corruption is to adopt a top-down approach following the example of Rwanda, he should have weighed heavily the question raised by Hon Farah Maalim, the member of parliament for Dadaab, who during Oginde’s hearing asked, “Are you willing to be independent and go against your appointing authority to deal with corruption?” Job Ogonda, the Executive Director of the Kenyan chapter of Transparency international, contends that “the entire infrastructure of governance in Kenya is corruption”. Politicians must bribe voters to be elected and can only maintain their influence by awarding fishy public contracts.

Hasn’t the good bishop, like the jadil, entangled himself with the corruption he is supposed to vanquish?

Despite the wanton theft of billions, the corrupt are walking free. Such men, Pulitzer award-winning writer Chris Hedges, observed, are legally empowered to pillage the nation, amass obscene wealth, and wield unchecked political and legal control. Why has the EACC let go free corrupt elites who sacrifice nothing for society? It has held none of them accountable for their criminal behaviour.

Did President Ruto find a courtier in Bishop David Oginde? Why must Raila Odinga be calling out the EACC, as he recently did, to investigate and prosecute corrupt government officials?

If the theft of public funds through illegal withdrawals from the treasury that Hon Omtatah has flagged does not bother him and cause the EACC to investigate the goings-on in the petroleum sector, then Oginde should keep the promise he made at his confirmation hearing to resign “if I find the efforts that we are making are not helping”.

It is now clear that we are on our own. Abdullahi Abdille Shahow was right to opine that this looting continues unabated because of the weakened oversight of anti-corruption agencies. The lack of political will at the national level to fight graft is fuelling theft and corruption at all levels of government. These political elites are oligarchs who do not care about democracy. They are not interested in the consent of the governed. Worse still, Western governments support the oligarchs – as Chris Hedges observed, “They are legally empowered to pillage the nation, amass obscene wealth, and wield unchecked political and legal control.”

Unless we stop them, this class will dismantle the structures that make social bonds possible, seeing in them an impediment to profit. They care little about social and income inequality and as such, they are inflicting more damage on society, eviscerating jobs, and leaving us underemployed or unemployed. The job losses excite them because, as Karl Marx said, unemployment creates great pools of desperate surplus labour. So, we must not allow them to obliterate the primary social security networks; however feeble, they have held the nation together. The breaking of these bonds will set millions of Kenyans adrift.

With Karl Marx, we should see this alienation as a positive force, one that must make us question the structures of power that exploit us. This awareness should cause us to revolt. The moment we stop being afraid and use our collective strength, that will be the moment the power elites will become frightened of us. And then we will see the downfall of the system.

The people of South Korea dealt with corruption in their country through protest. In late October 2016, President Park Geun-hye’s aide, Choi Soon-sil, used her proximity to power to extort money from several business firms. According to investigations, Choi and President Park’s senior staff members, Ahn Jong-bum and Jeong Ho-sung, used their influence to extort ₩77.4 billion (US$60 million) from large family-owned business conglomerates including Samsung, Hyundai, SK Group, and Lotte, and established two culture and sports-related foundations – Mir and K-sports.

The moment we stop being afraid and use our collective strength, that will be the moment the power elites will become frightened of us.

These revelations triggered mass demonstrations in Seoul, where protestors called for the resignation of Park Geun-hye. Over 1 million citizens protested, demanding her resignation or impeachment at Gwanghwamun Square on 12 November. On 19 November, another 1 million citizens were at the national protest after President Park refused to cooperate with the investigation into her abuse of power. On 26 November, over 2 million people came out in protest, calling for the resignation of President Park.

Following the wave of protests, on 9 December 2016, 234 of the 300 members of the South Korean National Assembly voted to impeach and temporarily suspend Park Geun-hey’s presidential powers and duties. On 10 March 2017, the constitutional court of Korea upheld the impeachment in a unanimous 8–0 decision, thus removing Park from office. She was found guilty of abuse of power and sentenced to 24 years in prison on 6 April 2018. However, upon the prosecution’s appeal, the sentence was raised to 25 years and a fine of ₩20 billion (US$17.86 million) was imposed.

We need mass mobilisation and civil disobedience to defeat the oligarchs; these are the first steps necessary to win back Kenya. For we will only exorcise this life-sucking vampire by rising together in mass protest, as South Korean citizens did.

In many ethnically diverse countries, state-building does not marginalize the dominant ethnic group and the state generally reflects or at least is not antithetical to their aspirations. This is not the case in Ethiopia where the Oromo people have been locked in a century-long battle with the Ethiopian state, despite forming an estimated half of the country’s population and inhabiting a large territory rich in natural resources. Several of the European imperial powers in earnest and later the US have supplied the necessary material and ideological support to the Ethiopian state, arresting the development of the Oromo people, and denying them —and the rest of Ethiopians— a dignified life. Although successive generations of Oromos have sought both violent and nonviolent means to end the resultant political and economic marginalization, they have always fallen short of success.

In 2018, the nonviolent Oromo youth movement forced a reshuffle in the ruling Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), paving the way for Abiy Ahmed, an Oromo, to become the caretaker prime minister of Ethiopia on April 12th, pending general elections in 2020.

Prime Minister Abiy wasted no time in introducing a series of reforms: He lifted the state of emergency that was imposed by the previous administration, released thousands of political prisoners, and allowed the return of  formerly banned opposition parties to the country. In a speech to parliament on June 18, 2018, he admitted that his party had committed gross human rights violations against innocent civilians over the past 27 years: “We have tortured, caused bodily harm, and even put inmates in dark prison cells,” he said, adding “These were acts of terror we used to stay in power.” He also pledged to revise repressive laws that were previously used to silence and eliminate people in the opposition.

In a political culture that relies on violence to get to power and even more violence to maintain it, the prime minister’s admission of crimes and subsequent apology was interpreted by many as a sign that Ethiopia was at the dawn of a new era.

For the Oromo who have long borne the brunt of this violence, this meant that their historically incompatible and therefore antagonistic relationship with the Ethiopian state was about to change. It seemed as if Ethiopia, an empire that was founded on the conquest and dispossession of what became its largest polity —Oromia— was on its way to democratize itself. Unfortunately, that hope was dashed, and not for the first time. As one Ethiopian journalist noted: “Ethiopia is at war with itself, again!”

Paul Henze, the CIA station chief in Ethiopia during the Derg regime, attributed Mengistu Haile-Mariam’s bloodlust and counter-insurgency in Eritrea, then part of Ethiopia, to his lack of “blue blood” and good “Ethiopian credentials.” Unlike all previous Ethiopian rulers (Orthodox Christian, Amhara/Tigre), Mengistu came from the Southwest which was brutally conquered by Emperor Menilik in the late 19th century. According to Henze, Mengistu, an ethnic Konta, “​​felt necessary to prove his nationalism and he had to prove he was as tough as anybody else and he was desirous of protecting Ethiopia’s interests.”

After eliminating the radical left in a bloody purge, Mengistu reverted to Amhara nationalism, staffing the 200-member Central Committee of the Workers’ Party of Ethiopia (WPE), which he founded in 1984, with an overwhelming majority of 118 Amharas, followed by 23 Oromo, and the remaining seats going to other nationalities. Menelik’s Avenue was featured in state ceremonies during his reign, and he personally visited and venerated Tewodros II’s tomb in the Lasta Mountains. As the insurgency against his regime intensified, Mengistu commissioned a previously dismissed royal historian to write a series of books emphasizing the continuity of the Ethiopian state through the lives of the last three emperors —Tewodros II, Yohannes IV and Menelik II. Notably absent was Haile Selassie, who was murdered and (reportedly) buried under a toilet by the Derg itself. And towards the end of his reign, Mengistu was said to frequently compare himself with Tewodros II. His current predecessor, Abiy Ahmed, prefers the phrase: “The seventh king of Ethiopia.”

In his famous book, The Wretched of the Earth, the Caribbean-born psychiatrist and political philosopher, Franz Fanon argues that people who have been colonized often internalize the values and beliefs of their oppressors and that this can lead them to conflate liberation with mimicking their oppressors. This inferiority complex manifests itself in many ways, including ‘lust’ and ‘envy.’ “The colonized man,” he writes, “is an envious man,” who fantasizes about the colonizer’s possessions, aspires to sit at the colonizer’s table, to sleep in his bed, “with his wife if possible.”

In this sense, to liberate oneself is to embody and fully become the oppressor. In the Oromo context, the apex of success in life, personal or political, is measured by how much one mimics Amhara culture, status, and way of life, however laced with Oromo symbolisms.

Prime Minister Abiy, like Mengistu, suffers from a deeply-entrenched inferiority complex, and his embrace of empire politics are symptoms of this colonial condition. This psychological dilemma was clearly at play in his speech at a town hall meeting in Eastern Oromia, where he advised Oromos to be like Jews “who prospered shortly after migrating to the US” as opposed to African Americans who “remained poor for dwelling on their past.” Ironically, he is making these statements while identifying with and glorifying Abyssinian rulers who subjugated the Oromo and other nations in Ethiopia in the past, and while at the same time preventing them from exercising their human and democratic rights today.

The disillusionment of Oromo youth with Prime Minister Abiy’s political trajectory is reflected in the song “Atii Enyuu?” (Who Are You?) by artist Chala Dagafa: “Oromo youth forced the TPLF back to their country, and you want to bring back the feudal system; What has gotten into you?”

Abiy’s plan for his constituency was made clear during a high-level meeting of his party, where he announced: “We need to rule Oromia like the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) did Tigray—without any opposition!” His plan to centralize power became a reality when he subsequently dissolved the EPRDF, the ruling coalition that comprised political parties representing several national groups, and established a new “Prosperity” party, ignoring all due process.

The Oromo youth whose protest movement helped put the prime minister in power were quickly designated enemies of the state, and a massive crackdown against them soon ensued. This statement explains, in short, the drive behind the pacification campaign in Oromia. In other words, the regime intends to run Oromo youth out of the country and thus strip Oromos of their will to live, resist, and exist, much like the Eritrean regime did to Eritreans.

One must understand that the conflict between the Oromo and the Ethiopian state is not only of a political nature; it also has economic and social layers. In Wollo, now part of the Amhara region, it is due to a social order imposed on the people by the Amhara Regional State. In other parts of Oromia, it is about underdevelopment, response to natural disasters, namely drought, and historical grievances against the center (Finfinne). The Ethiopian state has used everything in its arsenal to win this war with constant failure. One weapon used in this perpetual war is dehumanization.

Dehumanization as a tool to consolidate state power 

The logic of empire creates a binary, of ‘humans’ and “non-humans; of citizens and subjects. In the Ethiopian context, it’s the Amhara identity, culture, history, and value that forms the basis of what it is to be ‘human,’ or a citizen versus ‘others’ or subjects. Although individuals from Christian, non-Amhara backgrounds could rise to high offices in the country by deemphasizing their own identity and demonstrating the ability to subjugate their own group to the imperium, the collective agency of non-Amhara groups in Ethiopia is denied, their histories hidden, their cultures and traditions defiled, their resources plundered and youth population forced into joining the army.

As a policy, the Abyssinian/Ethiopian state has used dehumanization in its attempt to dispossess and contain the Oromo and other national groups. This is apparent in several dehumanizing terms ranging from “Galla” in the imperial times, to “Tabab Behretegna” (narrow nationalist) during the Derg, and “Terrorist” during the EPRDF.

With an Oromo at the helm, Oromos believed that the tales of being othered were behind them. They were wrong. The Ethiopian state came up with a new term for the Oromo: “Shane.” Since Abiy Ahmed’s ascension to power, an Oromo could be in Gimbi, Shashamane, Ambo, Bule Hora, Dembi Dollo, Jimma, or Naqamte, barely managing to conduct their daily business, often witnessing injustice and experiencing acute poverty, despite hailing from the richest region in the country and still experience state violence in its cruelest form.

The violence now is prompted not only because of their identity but also because of their opposition to an Oromo leadership. The moment s/he protests, a politician who is not Oromo, a foreign expert who never set foot in Oromia, and Oromo representatives would engage in an intellectual saga aimed at nothing but delegitimizing their demands and justifying inhumane measures taken against them by the regime.

Through no fault of their own, and often labeled by rivals, not peers, the Oromo find themselves always on the part of the aggressor. When Shashemene was turned into Aleppo by hooligans, Oromos, the owners of the city, were blamed for it. The media and the debate that followed legitimized the lunacy confirming without evidence that indeed Oromos burned down their city.

When Oromos from the Somali region were resettled in Adama, a city supposedly built to benefit the Oromo, they were attacked by non-Oromo residents of the town, unprovoked. Instead of holding these criminals accountable, the city administration decided to move the newly settled Oromos to the outskirts of the town, painting defenseless IDPs as the aggressors and legitimizing the perpetrators’ actions.

If Oromos were “Gallas” during the imperial period who lacked all the natural attributes that human beings possess— land, history, culture, rights, dignity — Oromo youth today are “Shane,” or “OLF Shane” and their lives are considered worthless.

The Ethiopian state remains structurally unchanged, but this time it’s the Oromos themselves who are propagating this dehumanization and killing their fellow Oromos. This is legitimized by the state, the civil society, and of course, the media, and the logic behind it is that an Oromo is at the top of the echelons of power.

Convincing everyone that a person’s life is worthless is hard work and requires a collective effort. This effort is evident by a practice of regime forces who made a habit out of filming themselves carrying out torture and summary executions and sharing the footage and photographs to social media influencers. Nathanael Mekonen, a pro-government online activist who appears to have links with regime forces on the ground, is one such case. He rose to prominence by sharing photographs of murdered Oromos on the messaging app Telegram, their faces mutilated and private parts exposed, in an attempt to further the humiliation and suffering of their families as well as propagate the idea that Oromo lives are worthless.

Normalization and Lack of Public Outrage 

Psychology is important in normalizing inhumane behavior. Time and again in the dangerous game of politics, psychological warfare is employed to achieve a political goal. The goal is to strip well-intentioned people of their cognitive processes that reject the inhumane treatment of others and lead to the normalization of the dehumanization of other human beings. Dehumanizing Oromos has been practiced as a rite of passage into Ethiopianess and for some the only solution to the problems facing both Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa.

One can speak to refugees from Eritrea, Somalia, or Yemen who fled dangerous circumstances in their respective countries and hear them use phrases such as “Oromos are backward”, “Oromos must be lying”, “Don’t go to Oromia; it is dangerous for non-Oromos” while simultaneously choosing to only settle in Finfinne, Adama or Dire Dawa. A reaction that is reflective of the daily consumption of conversations where the Oromo’s supposed partners in the country blame everything under the sun on the Oromo but also an indoctrination into Ethiopianess.

The public debate in Ethiopia is victim to the rhetoric of illusory truth effect to legitimize state crackdown on both individuals and communities. The illusory truth effect put simply is the process of accepting information to be true because it was heard before. Henceforth, public debate in Ethiopia begins with a lie, as a rule of thumb, and then repeated endlessly.

On the need to break the cycle

The Oromo people stand at a critical juncture. While an Oromo elite, albeit in name only, controls the levers of state power, this same elite class has pursued a policy of dehumanizing and persecuting its own constituency to maintain its grip on power. This policy stems, in part, from the inferiority complex that deeply entrenches many Oromo elites. In fact, nearly every instance of instability in the country can be traced back to the Oromo elite in power, whose attempts to govern the country by emulating the Abyssinians has left them with no allies in Oromia, Tigray, and lastly Amhara itself.

The Oromo elite’s rejection of their core identity and their failure to adhere to the principles of the Gada system manifests itself in the othering, dehumanization, and persecution of their own people. One cannot build a family, let alone a state, while simultaneously killing one’s own kin and kith. Neither would the world respect such a person or group.

As the Oromo Archbishop Abune Sawiros aptly observed, “A person who suffers from an inferiority complex is of no use to himself, his family, neighbors, or his country.” The Oromo elite must heed the archbishop’s wisdom and embrace their true identity, and work with (instead of marginalizing) Oromo potential at home and abroad and build a strong Oromia and, in turn, a stable Horn of Africa.

If the Prosperity Party seeks to break the cycle of recurring conflicts that plague Ethiopia, they must end the war in Oromia at all costs and ensure accountability for the crimes committed under their rule. To achieve this, sharing power and broadening the political space is essential not only in Oromia but also in other regions.

From 30th November to 12th December, governments, intergovernmental agencies, the private sector, civil society, donors and other stakeholders will be represented at the 28th United Nations Climate Change negotiations (Conference of the Parties – COP28) in Dubai. Governments will convene to pick up the discussion from where they left off during last year’s negotiations in Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt, where the parties agreed to provide “loss and damage” funding for vulnerable countries hit hard by climate disasters. The Loss and Damage Fund is a form of “payment for past actions that contributed to the climate crisis”, where rich nations are to pay damages to developing nations that are more vulnerable to climate change. The countries agreed to establish the fund last year and it is expected that the negotiations will now focus on its operationalisation.

This year’s COP is also happening against the backdrop of the inaugural Africa Climate Summit that took place in Nairobi in September. The Africa Climate Summit was an occasion for African governments to consolidate Africa’s position ahead of COP28, to discuss what global climate-related plans mean for Africa, and to develop the continent’s plan for addressing climate change. It was the moment to draft (and agree on) “Africa’s climate action plan”. The Nairobi Declaration, signed by twenty countries at the end of the Summit, called for new climate financing models for climate mitigation and adaptation measures.

Another topic that has gained traction in the lead-up to COP28 is “carbon trading” or “carbon offsetting”. Carbon offsetting describes the process by which companies opt to meet their emission reduction targets by funding projects that reduce or remove emissions from the atmosphere (or increase carbon storage) in other locations. The most common carbon offsetting projects are those that involve land restoration or the protection and regeneration of forests. African governments have been championing carbon offset projects as part of national actions to address climate change throughout the year. So far, Kenya, South Africa, Tanzania, and Zambia have drafted laws or regulations to guide carbon trading.

Earlier in November, CNN reported that Blue Carbon, a UAE company, has “secured” African land the size of the United Kingdom for carbon offset projects across five countries: Kenya, Liberia, Tanzania, Zambia and Zimbabwe. Blue Carbon has so far not confirmed the total size area of all its projects, how much money it has provided in financing, or how many credits it hopes to generate. According to another report published in The Guardian in late November, the deals cover 20 per cent of Zimbabwe’s territory, 10 per cent of Liberia, 10 per cent of Zambia, and 8 per cent of Tanzania. The latest deal is reported to cover “millions” of hectares of forests in Kenya. In addition to the direct implications of the land deals on the land rights of rural communities, another problematic detail is that Blue Carbon will have exclusive rights to sell the credits for 30 years (credits that these African countries cannot use for their climate commitments in that period), and will take up to 70 per cent of the revenues from the sale of carbon credits. The agreements are in the initial stages and are yet to be finalised; the company plans to present its deals at the COP28 summit as a “blueprint” for carbon trading.

The deals cover 20 per cent of Zimbabwe’s territory, 10 per cent of Liberia, 10 per cent of Zambia, and 8 per cent of Tanzania.

With the growing interest in carbon trading, there will likely be an increase in demand for land on which to undertake carbon offset projects. The majority of these projects will be undertaken on rural lands in Africa. The rush to meet this demand will have significant implications for rural communities that rely on land and land-based resources for their household food security and their livelihoods. However, with an estimated 90 per cent of Africa’s rural lands being undocumented and informally administered, rural communities that have been custodians of these lands and have legitimate claims to them may not get their fair share of the proceeds of carbon offset projects. There has already been a case of a carbon offset project in Kenya where the private company that acted as the intermediary for the deal allegedly received the largest share of the proceeds. The pastoralist communities that are the custodians and legitimate claimants of the land on which the carbon project was undertaken benefitted the least from the deal.

In 2019, the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD) passed a land tenure decision that called for the recognition of the tenure rights of communities living in areas targeted for land restoration. The decision is an acknowledgment that actions to protect forests and restore land will have significant impacts on the communities that live in the target areas and rely on land and land-based resources for their livelihoods.

As African governments prioritise the protection, regeneration and conservation of forests among other actions to restore degraded lands and mitigate climate change, they should ensure that these actions also contribute meaningfully to the livelihoods of the continent’s rural communities. The UNCCD’s land tenure decision provides lays the ground to ensure that efforts to protect the environment do not jeopardise the wellbeing of rural communities. The decision calls for the application of the principles of responsible land governance in land restoration programmes so as to reconcile community livelihoods with national environmental targets.

The pastoralist communities that are the custodians and legitimate claimants of the land on which the carbon project was undertaken benefitted the least from the deal.

Securing community land rights prior to implementing carbon offset projects (and other climate mitigation and adaptation measures) will not only act as a safeguard for their livelihoods, but will also encourage them to implement local-level measures that will contribute to national conservation plans. Findings from research conducted on this topic in Kenya, Benin, Madagascar and Malawi by the sustainability think tank TMG Research show that securing community land rights and tenure rights can incentivise them to become the stewards and champions of land restoration. Documenting tenure rights in areas targeted for environmental projects and programmes will be beneficial to the efforts to meet national environmental targets.

Additionally, if countries are to fully realise the potential of land restoration, national restoration plans will have to go beyond protection and conservation of public forests to include support for well-coordinated community-level contributions to restoration targets. For Africa, this will involve promoting forestry on private lands and support to communities to conserve and regenerate community forests. The efficacy with which this can be undertaken will be informed by the extent to which land and tenure rights issues have been resolved.

In the case of public forests, resolving tenure rights issues will entail documenting tenure rights and strengthening the capacities of community forest associations to meaningfully inform forest management decisions. For community forests, a first step in resolving tenure rights and land rights issues will be to register ungazetted community forests as community lands in accordance with the national laws for administering communally owned lands or customary land. (In Kenya, this national law is the Community Land Act of 2016.) TMG’s research findings demonstrate that documenting community lands in line with the existing legal framework (and improving the perception of tenure security) can further encourage communities to implement sustainable land management practices and to manage forest regeneration on communally owned lands.

Even as countries develop legal frameworks to regulate carbon trading (defining rights, roles and responsibilities in the context of carbon markets), we have to acknowledge that some of the carbon offsetting deals go beyond the scope of national laws. These deals are being signed between countries from different regions of the world (belonging to different regional economic blocs), and countries that are worlds apart in terms of development. The layer of regulation presented by regional blocs may not be sufficient for carbon markets. We also cannot overlook the power imbalances that are a result of the economic might of the countries and blocs of countries that will be buying these carbon credits.

This topic will benefit from a global decision to guide the land governance component, to hold these governments to account as they implement forest conservation and land restoration programmes, and to ensure these programmes do not lead to human rights and land rights violations. As the carbon markets topic gains traction, African governments need to present a position similar to the UNCCD’s land tenure decision, and to ensure that the urgency to mitigate climate change will not leave rural populations on the continent in a worse position. It is in the interest of these governments to ensure that their rural populations do not become even more vulnerable despite external parties investing hundreds of millions of dollars in land-based projects undertaken on the continent’s rural lands.