The skipped generation

The usual generation definers or markers such as the “baby boomers” and the “X” and “Y” generations are essentially Eurocentric identities that relate to socio-economic and political experiences and events of North American and Europe, on the continent they may best relate to urban settings.

In May 2013 I was privileged to attend the Multi-Stakeholder Dialogue on Pan-Africanism and African Renaissance in the 21st Century, an event on the margins of the 21st AU summit. The theme was ”Framing a 21st Century Narrative of Pan Africanism and African Renaissance”. The OAU was turning 50 so it was imperative to take stock of how far the movement of our forefathers has come and where we, the new generations, were taking it.

It was inspiring to see a room full of Pan-Africanists all talking with passion about the future of our continent; some with such passion they had to stand up to express themselves with bulging veins in their necks.

What came out repeatedly was the issue of leadership and good governance, with particular attention being paid to gender parity and youth inclusivity. There was pride and endless reference to the wealth of our continent, and lamenting on both the new scramble for African resources as well as the ever-growing economic gap due to the greed and selfishness of private and public African leadership. Essentially, we acknowledged that the continent has come a distance, however the narrative has not all been positive or uniting; we have veered from the tenants of the revolutionary founders of Pan-Africanism.

In the room were staunch supporters of the way of the old guard. Statements like, “Do not think it is going to be handed to you, you have to go out there and grab it” resonated through the room (no wonder there are endless conflicts on the continent). This was a statement from a middle-aged man, one who feels the frustrations of a closed space by those who have shaken hands and sat in meetings with our forefathers yet still remain very present (physically or ideologically) in the halls of power across the continent. A younger generation of Pan-Africanists spoke of lack of guidance or space to speak their minds and truth about the evolving narrative of Pan-African understanding or realities. The tension in the room was clear. The under-35s felt left out of the discourse or spoken down to; this group of people does not want to “grab it” but want to ensure there are well-implemented methods of handover in transitions. This approach could be accused of over-intellectualizing seeing that there is urgency for change on the continent. The over-55s felt the young were just lazy and needed to go out there and read about the greatness of our forefathers to understand where we should be going, to do what our forefathers did and “grab it”.

There were suggestions that some older Pan-Africanists were holding onto romantic notions of a untied Africa with close corporation and seamless boarders, arguing that the Africa of today could not realize the basic tenants set out by our forefathers. Pan-Africanism today was accused of being intangible—the question asked was, “Can we eat it?” The response to this facetious yet poignant question was, “Why are some people even in this room?” It dawned on me that I did not fit in any of the two factions in the room. I self-identified as being from a skipped generation.

The average age of the presidents in Africa is 62.5 with Andry Nirina Rajoelina at 39 being the youngest, followed by Kabila at 42, then King Muswati II (45) who leads by privilege of birth, then the newly elected Uhuru Kenyatta (47). Last in his 40s is Yahya Abdul-Aziz Jemus Junkung Jammeh at 48. My generation of the 40-somethings have slim chances of becoming presidents if at this stage I have nieces older than my current president’s term. What should their inspiration be if ours has already passed us?

My age group grew up in the time of coups upon coups, violent takeovers: a phase that tarnished the continent as a lawless, unstable place where grabbing was the means to legitimate power. Today there is a more nuanced means of “grabbing” power. If it is not given to you in whole and by force, you negotiate the legitimacy of your power.

While Kenyatta is a beacon of hope for my generation, there is still a sense of the past in our midst. I was just hitting puberty when his father passed on, therefore my memories straddle the political era of independence and the new means of assumption of power.

I am now in my late 40s. I do not have aspirations to lead a nation, however I believe that my generation needs a reality check. As a 40-something black African woman on the continent, I am not going to even address the obvious gender bias that I would face. We laud the two female presidents we have on the continent (Ellen Sirleaf Johnson at 71 and Joyce Banda at 63)—50 years later and in the 21st century, not to detract from their success, but this is a little too late for my liking. In fact, this is bordering on patronising, I feel. What I do want to highlight is a gender-blind issue: our middle-age status in line with political aspirations.

Anyone who has aspirations of becoming a president or prime minister in their country has a steep hill to climb. The liberators/revolutionaries are still sitting pretty and in some cases claim they still have years to go. If not that, there are always rumours of grooming their sons to take over. Secondly, if you are of the school of thought of “grab it as it will not be given to you”, you will be labelled a decedent or terrorist. Revolutionaries no longer exist in the new political or global order according to our newfound fears of terrorism.

Those who identify themselves as the youth are coming up fast from the rear and saying it is time to let them through the door and, “Btw, who is Kwame Nkrumah, and how do I spell his name so I can Google him?” They are the high-tech generation with lightning-speed access to information and ways of transformation. Sitting and reading a book about history is neither sexy nor efficient for their ambitions. They live in the here and now.

The generation that gave us our independence are now grandparents of the new youth, and when I say youth I do not mean juveniles—we are talking thirty-somethings. Unfortunately, the youth can only reference the liberators in history books and even that is a challenge considering the state of our educational institutions today.

My generation—let me call us “the skipped generation”—is privileged to have, in some cases, sat at the feet of liberators and activists from the independence struggle, listening to robust discussions of strategies and futures they were hoping for their children….us. Through the literary and theatrical expressions of politics and Pan-Africanism of my father (Robert Serumaga) I was privileged to be introduced to Pan-Africanism as a way of life and not an ideology that is read in a book. He did what was expected of him during the colonial era: go to school, get to university and become a Eurocentric academic. Once graduated, he let go of the norm and took on his narrative; he chose to be a modern day orator of the state of affairs of our continent. He paid the price with his life. However, his life and death are what have made me what I am today. I guess it was his way of passing on the baton to his children.

In addition to the lifestyle he choose for us, like many of my generation, history and literature in school during our formative years was not about the British Empire and Shakespeare—our teeth were cut on African literature of the likes of Achebe, P’Bitek, and Ngugi, and the African kingdoms and dynasties that ruled the continent before it was interrupted and dismantled. One would say this is how the generation before mine rewrote the narrative of Africa. They went as far as developing new curricular with the truth about Africa for our new minds.

My generation may have been skipped for political leadership and economic privilege for the most part however, we were privileged and unique as the beneficiaries of a healthy narrative that gave us the impetus to remain true to the continent as a Pan-Africanist should. In the liberated transition which we were born into, we were cultivated to have consciousness of the new Africa. We were being handed a baton that allowed us to see the full potential of the continent. Then…something went wrong. The generation handing on the baton refused to let go. In fact, we seem to have been beaten with the same baton. Any attempts to defy the status quo results in detentions or even executions. Wait… isn’t that the modus operandi of the colonialist? What just happened there?

The big questions now are: do we have a baton to pass onto the new generation? Were we designed to be the vessels that hold the truth of the continent without having experienced the colonial humiliation that stripped our forefathers of their dignity and caused them to force the hand of the colonialist and grab back what is ours? Is ours to humbly accept a role of guardian and not leader, paving the way for those after us? Does every generation have to have leaders? Should we be grabbing that which is not being handed to us or should we wait until nature grabs the older generation? Should our narrative be less volatile?

I believe we must act as the referee between the older and younger generations and take on a new type of narrative. We must promote that the narrative does not have to be singular; in fact, it should be multiple, since each generation has its own transiting experience of Africa. It is therefore not about passing on the baton for the greater good but opening up malleable spaces where we can all come in and shape or mould the future of our beautiful and resourceful continent.

So before we cannibalize ourselves or find ourselves all singing the Chinese national anthem, we should step back a bit and philosophize what we are doing to ourselves. There are vultures waiting for us to implode so the pickings get easier. We must accept that we have been dragged into the new global order, and accept that the new generations coming up behind us do not have time to stop and praise those who have gone before us. They are trying to harness a moving target and our role now is to hand over spaces that they can tweet about and mould no matter which geographical part of the continent or globe they occupy. Trust that we as guardians and activists have held our own well and the young shall Google us and learn fast what needs to be done next.

* Delphine Serumaga is Executive Director, The Center for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation (CSVR), Johannesburg & Cape Town, South Africa