By Zainab Suleiman Okino
The recent UN resolution that recognised the trans-Atlantic slave trade as the “gravest crime against humanity” did not reverberate across the world as it should have, not even among Africans in the diaspora or those back home. I had expected the resolution to be amplified far and wide for the world to better appreciate the place of Africa’s labour and inputs in their developmental strides. There was also the expectation that Black African regional bodies would go into overdrive, escalating the issue for discourse on all global platforms, across the media, including social media, and in academic circles.
Instead, what we saw was a mere mention by news organisations. Before long, it disappeared from the front pages within 24 hours, leaving one to wonder: where are Africa’s intellectuals, advocates and activists? If we cannot promote our own cause, who else will? Where exactly do we stand on a case we should own and fight for? The saying that if you do not stand for something, you fall for anything aptly applies here. Is Africa merely surviving, or should it strive to thrive and assert its rightful place in history?
Although there have been pockets of effort by individuals, countries and organisations, the most vociferous opposition to slavery and its legacy appears to come from its victims outside the continent. The Caribbean Community (CARICOM), through its 10-point plan in 2014, provided the most structured blueprint for reparations. The African Union has increasingly referenced that comprehensive plan, demanding a formal apology beyond mere “expressions of regret,” reparations, the right of return for diasporans who wish to resettle in Africa, and debt cancellation framed as reparative justice. But what of those within Africa who also profited from the trade?
In 2023, Ghana hosted a summit that called for a Global Reparations Fund, while South Africa had earlier hosted the 2001 Durban Declaration at the UN World Conference against Racism, where the slave trade was first internationally labelled a “crime against humanity.” Closest home is the late politician and business mogul, Chief MKO Abiola’s pioneering movement that sought compensation from Western nations for Africa over colonial exploitation of the continent and slavery. His effort in the early 1990s to transform reparations “from a moral argument into a formal international diplomatic agenda” did not garner commitment from African countries, and his death almost ended the reparation argument.
While these isolated national and regional engagements are commendable, the recent UN resolution calls for “systemic reparations.” This is why it is surprising that there has not been a more vigorous amplification of the UN’s position, even if the body lacks the force of law to enforce its declarations.
Still, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a step. History offers instructive parallels. Israel’s journey toward nationhood began with what seemed like an innocuous nod from the British government. The Balfour Declaration of November 2, 1917, was merely a letter of support from the British Foreign Secretary, Arthur James Balfour, to Lionel Walter Rothschild, a leader of the Jewish community, promising a “national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine. Through sustained lobbying and global advocacy, that promise eventually materialised in the declaration of the State of Israel in 1947.
Africans, however, do not appear to show the same level of commitment to the cause of reparations. There is little visible mobilisation, either on the continent or among the diaspora. The trans-Atlantic slave trade dispersed Africans across the Americas and the Caribbean, and over time, many have developed loyalties to their adopted homelands, even long after the abolition of slavery.
Meanwhile, the African continent itself has struggled to make significant progress in a world increasingly defined by science, technology, industrialisation, and the digital economy. Its limited impact in these spheres raises uncomfortable questions about its moral leverage in demanding reparations. There is also the complicating historical reality that, at its peak, the slave trade involved willing buyers and sellers. Internecine wars and economic rivalries led to the capture and sale of fellow Africans to European traders for pittance. How then do we apportion accountability? How do we confront the fact that descendants of some of those actors still wield influence in contemporary governance structures?
There have been attempts at moral reckoning. In 2000, President Mathieu Kérékou of Benin publicly apologised for the role of the Kingdom of Dahomey in the slave trade. Traditional rulers from Ghana and Cameroon have also expressed remorse for their ancestors’ roles. In 1992, the Vatican apologised for the Church’s complicity in the slave trade under the guise of evangelism. Yet, these gestures, though significant, are far from sufficient to address the magnitude of the injustice.
Compounding the challenge is the role of contemporary actors who, wittingly or unwittingly, undermine the reparations movement. The response of some members of the African diaspora has been less than supportive. Many political actors in their adopted countries may be reluctant to champion a cause that could be seen as antagonistic to their national interests. The reaction of Kemi Badenoch to the recent UN resolution is a case in point. Rather than lend her voice to the cause, she chose to defend British actions, drawing criticism and raising questions about identity, loyalty, and historical responsibility.
With such dissenting voices, it is easy for proponents of reparations to become discouraged. The movement risks being truncated before it gains meaningful traction. Moreover, Africa needs the support of the very superpowers that benefited from the trans-Atlantic slave trade. So far, that support has been largely absent.
Thus, while every right-thinking African should remain optimistic about the prospects of reparations, there is also a growing sense that the momentum is waning. Without sustained advocacy, strategic mobilisation, and unified continental and diaspora engagement, the call for reparations may gradually fade into the background.
The UN resolution may not carry immediate legal weight, but it represents a moral milestone. Whether it becomes a foundation for meaningful change or just another forgotten declaration depends largely on what Africans choose to do next. The pursuit of reparations is not merely about financial compensation; it is about justice, recognition, and the rebalancing of a global order long skewed against Africa. If that cause is allowed to die, it will not be for lack of merit, but for lack of will.
Zainab Suleiman Okino (FNGE) chairs the Blueprint Editorial Board. She is a syndicated columnist and can be reached via zainabokino@gmail.com
