1960s, the euphoria that swept across the continent was
infectious. It was best evinced by the late Dr. Kwame
Nkrumah, the first black president of Ghana. "We shall
achieve in a decade what it took others a century ... and we
shall not rest content until we demolish these miserable
colonial structures and erect in their place a veritabl...
e
paradise," he declared exuberantly (Nkrumah, 1957, 34).
The nationalists who won freedom for their respective
countries were hailed as heroes, swept into office with huge
parliamentary majorities, and deified. Currencies bore their
portraits and statues were built to honor them. Criticizing
them became sacrilegious and, very quickly, the freedom and
development promised by Nkrumah and other African
nationalists transmogrified into a melodramatic nightmare. In
many countries these nationalist leaders soon turned out to be
crocodile liberators, Swiss bank socialists, quack
revolutionaries, and grasping kleptocrats. After independence
true freedom never came to much of Africa. Nor did
development.
For many Africans, the "paradise" promised them turned out
be a starvation diet, unemployment, and a gun to the head.
Disaffection and alienation set in. A spate of coups quickly
swept across Africa in the early 1960s. The first occurred in
the Belgian Congo on September 15, 1960, barely three months
after independence. In West Africa the first coup occurred in
Togo on January 13, 1963. Between 1963 and February 1966
there were 14 significant cases of military intervention in
government. By 1968 there had been 64 attempted and
successful interventions across Africa (Decalo, 1976, 6).
The first generation of coup leaders in the 1960s was
professional soldiers who brooked zero tolerance for
corruption, inefficiency, government waste, and
mismanagement. They threw out the elite bazongas (raiders of
the public treasury), cleaned up the government house,
instilled discipline in the civil service, and returned to their
barracks. They were hailed as "saviors" and idolized by the
people.
The second generation of military rulers, who assumed control
in the 1970s, emerge from the dregs: They were more
corrupt, incompetent, and brutal than the civilian
administrations they replaced. They ruined one African
economy after another with brutal efficiency and looted
African treasuries with military discipline. Africans watched
helplessly as they experienced yet another betrayal. This
second batch of "military coconutheads," as Africans call them,
came from the bottom of the pit and left wanton destruction
and carnage in their wake.
In 1978 Edem Kodjo, then Secretary General of the
Organization of African Unity (OAU), echoed the sentiments
of many Africans when he solemnly lamented before the
African heads of state gathered for an OAU summit that,
"Our ancient continent is now on the brink of disaster, hurtling
towards the abyss of confrontation, caught in the grip of
violence, sinking into the dark night of bloodshed and
death" (Lamb 1983, xi).
Since then, things have gotten progressively worse. By the
beginning of the 1990s, it was clear something had gone
terribly wrong in Africa. The continent was wracked by a
never-ending cycle of civil wars, carnage, chaos, and instability.
Economies had collapsed. Poverty, in both absolute and relative
terms, had increased Malnutrition was rife. In addition,
censorship, persecution, detention, arbitrary seizures of
property, corruption, capital flight, and tyranny continuously
plagued the continent.
Infrastructure had decayed and crumbled in much of Africa.
Roads, schools, and telecommunications systems were in
shambles. Empty bookstore shelves greeted visitors to
university campuses. Many school buildings showed obvious
signs of decay and disintegration. Most buildings had not even
seen a coat of paint since the colonialists departed. The
quality of education had deteriorated sharply. Nigeria's 38-
school university system, for example, was in ruins. Students
could not get books. Nor could professors do research. Ahmadu
Bello University is one such facility in a dilapidated state.
Dormitories are overcrowded, laboratories lack chemicals to
perform experiments, and some buildings are collapsing.
When the vice-chancellor of a major Nigerian university
wanted to resign, he called a press conference. As Linus U. J.
Thomas-Ogboji, a Nigerian scholar based in Asheville,
described it: "His reasons for abandoning the job are a
pathetic commentary on the putrid demise of a once-promising
nation: admission and grades were being sold openly;
dormitories for adolescent females had become brothels;
threats of death and mayhem by gangs were rife on a campus
that had gone without electricity or running water for
years" (African News Weekly, 26 May 1995, 6).
A similar decrepit situation was described by a Ghanaian
university student, Foster Koduea: "The University of Ghana,
Legon, established in the [1950s] with very comfortable
accommodations, beautiful buildings and surroundings, is now in
a deplorable state. A room meant for two students is now used
by six students and a room which is supposed to be used by
three or four students is now inhabited by eight to ten
students. At Legon Hall most of the rooms are very congested
and hardly is there room for free passage. Lecture halls are
congested" (Focus, 13-20 February 1995, 4).
In most places in Africa, telephones do not work; they "bite
back." Electricity and water supplies are sporadic. What are
called roads are often passageways truncated by crevasses
large enough to swallow a truck. Hospitals lack food and
medical supplies. Doctors even have difficulty finding paper on
which to write prescriptions. Often patients are requested to
bring their own blankets and bandages. Communicable diseases
such as yellow fever, malaria, and cholera--once believed
vanquished--have reappeared with a vengeance.
When Africa gained its independence from colonial rule in the
1960s, the euphoria that swept across the continent was
infectious. It was best evinced by the late Dr. Kwame
Nkrumah, the first black president of Ghana. "We shall
achieve in a decade what it took others a century ... and we
shall not rest content until we demolish these miserable
colonial structures and erect in their place a veritable
paradise," he declared exuberantly (Nkrumah, 1957, 34).
The nationalists who won freedom for their respective
countries were hailed as heroes, swept into office with huge
parliamentary majorities, and deified. Currencies bore their
portraits and statues were built to honor them. Criticizing
them became sacrilegious and, very quickly, the freedom and
development promised by Nkrumah and other African
nationalists transmogrified into a melodramatic nightmare. In
many countries these nationalist leaders soon turned out to be
crocodile liberators, Swiss bank socialists, quack
revolutionaries, and grasping kleptocrats. After independence
true freedom never came to much of Africa. Nor did
development.
For many Africans, the "paradise" promised them turned out
be a starvation diet, unemployment, and a gun to the head.
Disaffection and alienation set in. A spate of coups quickly
swept across Africa in the early 1960s. The first occurred in
the Belgian Congo on September 15, 1960, barely three months
after independence. In West Africa the first coup occurred in
Togo on January 13, 1963. Between 1963 and February 1966
there were 14 significant cases of military intervention in
government. By 1968 there had been 64 attempted and
successful interventions across Africa (Decalo, 1976, 6).
The first generation of coup leaders in the 1960s was
professional soldiers who brooked zero tolerance for
corruption, inefficiency, government waste, and
mismanagement. They threw out the elite bazongas (raiders of
the public treasury), cleaned up the government house,
instilled discipline in the civil service, and returned to their
barracks. They were hailed as "saviors" and idolized by the
people.
The second generation of military rulers, who assumed control
in the 1970s, emerge from the dregs: They were more
corrupt, incompetent, and brutal than the civilian
administrations they replaced. They ruined one African
economy after another with brutal efficiency and looted
African treasuries with military discipline. Africans watched
helplessly as they experienced yet another betrayal. This
second batch of "military coconutheads," as Africans call them,
came from the bottom of the pit and left wanton destruction
and carnage in their wake.
In 1978 Edem Kodjo, then Secretary General of the
Organization of African Unity (OAU), echoed the sentiments
of many Africans when he solemnly lamented before the
African heads of state gathered for an OAU summit that,
"Our ancient continent is now on the brink of disaster, hurtling
towards the abyss of confrontation, caught in the grip of
violence, sinking into the dark night of bloodshed and
death" (Lamb 1983, xi).
Since then, things have gotten progressively worse. By the
beginning of the 1990s, it was clear something had gone
terribly wrong in Africa. The continent was wracked by a
never-ending cycle of civil wars, carnage, chaos, and instability.
Economies had collapsed. Poverty, in both absolute and relative
terms, had increased Malnutrition was rife. In addition,
censorship, persecution, detention, arbitrary seizures of
property, corruption, capital flight, and tyranny continuously
plagued the continent.
Infrastructure had decayed and crumbled in much of Africa.
Roads, schools, and telecommunications systems were in
shambles. Empty bookstore shelves greeted visitors to
university campuses. Many school buildings showed obvious
signs of decay and disintegration. Most buildings had not even
seen a coat of paint since the colonialists departed. The
quality of education had deteriorated sharply. Nigeria's 38-
school university system, for example, was in ruins. Students
could not get books. Nor could professors do research. Ahmadu
Bello University is one such facility in a dilapidated state.
Dormitories are overcrowded, laboratories lack chemicals to
perform experiments, and some buildings are collapsing.
When the vice-chancellor of a major Nigerian university
wanted to resign, he called a press conference. As Linus U. J.
Thomas-Ogboji, a Nigerian scholar based in Asheville,
described it: "His reasons for abandoning the job are a
pathetic commentary on the putrid demise of a once-promising
nation: admission and grades were being sold openly;
dormitories for adolescent females had become brothels;
threats of death and mayhem by gangs were rife on a campus
that had gone without electricity or running water for
years" (African News Weekly, 26 May 1995, 6).
A similar decrepit situation was described by a Ghanaian
university student, Foster Koduea: "The University of Ghana,
Legon, established in the [1950s] with very comfortable
accommodations, beautiful buildings and surroundings, is now in
a deplorable state. A room meant for two students is now used
by six students and a room which is supposed to be used by
three or four students is now inhabited by eight to ten
students. At Legon Hall most of the rooms are very congested
and hardly is there room for free passage. Lecture halls are
congested" (Focus, 13-20 February 1995, 4).
In most places in Africa, telephones do not work; they "bite
back." Electricity and water supplies are sporadic. What are
called roads are often passageways truncated by crevasses
large enough to swallow a truck. Hospitals lack food and
medical supplies. Doctors even have difficulty finding paper on
which to write prescriptions. Often patients are requested to
bring their own blankets and bandages. Communicable diseases
such as yellow fever, malaria, and cholera--once believed
vanquished--have reappeared with a vengeance.
paradise," he declared exuberantly (Nkrumah, 1957, 34).
The nationalists who won freedom for their respective
countries were hailed as heroes, swept into office with huge
parliamentary majorities, and deified. Currencies bore their
portraits and statues were built to honor them. Criticizing
them became sacrilegious and, very quickly, the freedom and
development promised by Nkrumah and other African
nationalists transmogrified into a melodramatic nightmare. In
many countries these nationalist leaders soon turned out to be
crocodile liberators, Swiss bank socialists, quack
revolutionaries, and grasping kleptocrats. After independence
true freedom never came to much of Africa. Nor did
development.
For many Africans, the "paradise" promised them turned out
be a starvation diet, unemployment, and a gun to the head.
Disaffection and alienation set in. A spate of coups quickly
swept across Africa in the early 1960s. The first occurred in
the Belgian Congo on September 15, 1960, barely three months
after independence. In West Africa the first coup occurred in
Togo on January 13, 1963. Between 1963 and February 1966
there were 14 significant cases of military intervention in
government. By 1968 there had been 64 attempted and
successful interventions across Africa (Decalo, 1976, 6).
The first generation of coup leaders in the 1960s was
professional soldiers who brooked zero tolerance for
corruption, inefficiency, government waste, and
mismanagement. They threw out the elite bazongas (raiders of
the public treasury), cleaned up the government house,
instilled discipline in the civil service, and returned to their
barracks. They were hailed as "saviors" and idolized by the
people.
The second generation of military rulers, who assumed control
in the 1970s, emerge from the dregs: They were more
corrupt, incompetent, and brutal than the civilian
administrations they replaced. They ruined one African
economy after another with brutal efficiency and looted
African treasuries with military discipline. Africans watched
helplessly as they experienced yet another betrayal. This
second batch of "military coconutheads," as Africans call them,
came from the bottom of the pit and left wanton destruction
and carnage in their wake.
In 1978 Edem Kodjo, then Secretary General of the
Organization of African Unity (OAU), echoed the sentiments
of many Africans when he solemnly lamented before the
African heads of state gathered for an OAU summit that,
"Our ancient continent is now on the brink of disaster, hurtling
towards the abyss of confrontation, caught in the grip of
violence, sinking into the dark night of bloodshed and
death" (Lamb 1983, xi).
Since then, things have gotten progressively worse. By the
beginning of the 1990s, it was clear something had gone
terribly wrong in Africa. The continent was wracked by a
never-ending cycle of civil wars, carnage, chaos, and instability.
Economies had collapsed. Poverty, in both absolute and relative
terms, had increased Malnutrition was rife. In addition,
censorship, persecution, detention, arbitrary seizures of
property, corruption, capital flight, and tyranny continuously
plagued the continent.
Infrastructure had decayed and crumbled in much of Africa.
Roads, schools, and telecommunications systems were in
shambles. Empty bookstore shelves greeted visitors to
university campuses. Many school buildings showed obvious
signs of decay and disintegration. Most buildings had not even
seen a coat of paint since the colonialists departed. The
quality of education had deteriorated sharply. Nigeria's 38-
school university system, for example, was in ruins. Students
could not get books. Nor could professors do research. Ahmadu
Bello University is one such facility in a dilapidated state.
Dormitories are overcrowded, laboratories lack chemicals to
perform experiments, and some buildings are collapsing.
When the vice-chancellor of a major Nigerian university
wanted to resign, he called a press conference. As Linus U. J.
Thomas-Ogboji, a Nigerian scholar based in Asheville,
described it: "His reasons for abandoning the job are a
pathetic commentary on the putrid demise of a once-promising
nation: admission and grades were being sold openly;
dormitories for adolescent females had become brothels;
threats of death and mayhem by gangs were rife on a campus
that had gone without electricity or running water for
years" (African News Weekly, 26 May 1995, 6).
A similar decrepit situation was described by a Ghanaian
university student, Foster Koduea: "The University of Ghana,
Legon, established in the [1950s] with very comfortable
accommodations, beautiful buildings and surroundings, is now in
a deplorable state. A room meant for two students is now used
by six students and a room which is supposed to be used by
three or four students is now inhabited by eight to ten
students. At Legon Hall most of the rooms are very congested
and hardly is there room for free passage. Lecture halls are
congested" (Focus, 13-20 February 1995, 4).
In most places in Africa, telephones do not work; they "bite
back." Electricity and water supplies are sporadic. What are
called roads are often passageways truncated by crevasses
large enough to swallow a truck. Hospitals lack food and
medical supplies. Doctors even have difficulty finding paper on
which to write prescriptions. Often patients are requested to
bring their own blankets and bandages. Communicable diseases
such as yellow fever, malaria, and cholera--once believed
vanquished--have reappeared with a vengeance.
When Africa gained its independence from colonial rule in the
1960s, the euphoria that swept across the continent was
infectious. It was best evinced by the late Dr. Kwame
Nkrumah, the first black president of Ghana. "We shall
achieve in a decade what it took others a century ... and we
shall not rest content until we demolish these miserable
colonial structures and erect in their place a veritable
paradise," he declared exuberantly (Nkrumah, 1957, 34).
The nationalists who won freedom for their respective
countries were hailed as heroes, swept into office with huge
parliamentary majorities, and deified. Currencies bore their
portraits and statues were built to honor them. Criticizing
them became sacrilegious and, very quickly, the freedom and
development promised by Nkrumah and other African
nationalists transmogrified into a melodramatic nightmare. In
many countries these nationalist leaders soon turned out to be
crocodile liberators, Swiss bank socialists, quack
revolutionaries, and grasping kleptocrats. After independence
true freedom never came to much of Africa. Nor did
development.
For many Africans, the "paradise" promised them turned out
be a starvation diet, unemployment, and a gun to the head.
Disaffection and alienation set in. A spate of coups quickly
swept across Africa in the early 1960s. The first occurred in
the Belgian Congo on September 15, 1960, barely three months
after independence. In West Africa the first coup occurred in
Togo on January 13, 1963. Between 1963 and February 1966
there were 14 significant cases of military intervention in
government. By 1968 there had been 64 attempted and
successful interventions across Africa (Decalo, 1976, 6).
The first generation of coup leaders in the 1960s was
professional soldiers who brooked zero tolerance for
corruption, inefficiency, government waste, and
mismanagement. They threw out the elite bazongas (raiders of
the public treasury), cleaned up the government house,
instilled discipline in the civil service, and returned to their
barracks. They were hailed as "saviors" and idolized by the
people.
The second generation of military rulers, who assumed control
in the 1970s, emerge from the dregs: They were more
corrupt, incompetent, and brutal than the civilian
administrations they replaced. They ruined one African
economy after another with brutal efficiency and looted
African treasuries with military discipline. Africans watched
helplessly as they experienced yet another betrayal. This
second batch of "military coconutheads," as Africans call them,
came from the bottom of the pit and left wanton destruction
and carnage in their wake.
In 1978 Edem Kodjo, then Secretary General of the
Organization of African Unity (OAU), echoed the sentiments
of many Africans when he solemnly lamented before the
African heads of state gathered for an OAU summit that,
"Our ancient continent is now on the brink of disaster, hurtling
towards the abyss of confrontation, caught in the grip of
violence, sinking into the dark night of bloodshed and
death" (Lamb 1983, xi).
Since then, things have gotten progressively worse. By the
beginning of the 1990s, it was clear something had gone
terribly wrong in Africa. The continent was wracked by a
never-ending cycle of civil wars, carnage, chaos, and instability.
Economies had collapsed. Poverty, in both absolute and relative
terms, had increased Malnutrition was rife. In addition,
censorship, persecution, detention, arbitrary seizures of
property, corruption, capital flight, and tyranny continuously
plagued the continent.
Infrastructure had decayed and crumbled in much of Africa.
Roads, schools, and telecommunications systems were in
shambles. Empty bookstore shelves greeted visitors to
university campuses. Many school buildings showed obvious
signs of decay and disintegration. Most buildings had not even
seen a coat of paint since the colonialists departed. The
quality of education had deteriorated sharply. Nigeria's 38-
school university system, for example, was in ruins. Students
could not get books. Nor could professors do research. Ahmadu
Bello University is one such facility in a dilapidated state.
Dormitories are overcrowded, laboratories lack chemicals to
perform experiments, and some buildings are collapsing.
When the vice-chancellor of a major Nigerian university
wanted to resign, he called a press conference. As Linus U. J.
Thomas-Ogboji, a Nigerian scholar based in Asheville,
described it: "His reasons for abandoning the job are a
pathetic commentary on the putrid demise of a once-promising
nation: admission and grades were being sold openly;
dormitories for adolescent females had become brothels;
threats of death and mayhem by gangs were rife on a campus
that had gone without electricity or running water for
years" (African News Weekly, 26 May 1995, 6).
A similar decrepit situation was described by a Ghanaian
university student, Foster Koduea: "The University of Ghana,
Legon, established in the [1950s] with very comfortable
accommodations, beautiful buildings and surroundings, is now in
a deplorable state. A room meant for two students is now used
by six students and a room which is supposed to be used by
three or four students is now inhabited by eight to ten
students. At Legon Hall most of the rooms are very congested
and hardly is there room for free passage. Lecture halls are
congested" (Focus, 13-20 February 1995, 4).
In most places in Africa, telephones do not work; they "bite
back." Electricity and water supplies are sporadic. What are
called roads are often passageways truncated by crevasses
large enough to swallow a truck. Hospitals lack food and
medical supplies. Doctors even have difficulty finding paper on
which to write prescriptions. Often patients are requested to
bring their own blankets and bandages. Communicable diseases
such as yellow fever, malaria, and cholera--once believed
vanquished--have reappeared with a vengeance.
No comments:
Post a Comment