Phillips and Cheney preface an analysis of the ASA’s Graduate Student Paper Prize in a discussion with past Prize winners with a review of the sociological literature on awards and scholarly critiques of the history of African Studies. They find that the Prize has played an important role in amplifying and recognizing the voices of young scholars who have pushed the thematic and theoretical boundaries of the field. But these contributions are attended by limitations that the ASA should remediate as they consider the GSP Prize in relation to efforts to realize anti-colonial and social justice-oriented approaches to knowledge production.

As language increasingly becomes uncoupled from the nation state, transnational writers, transnational African writers, and African writers are using language to serve their own purposes and creating new literary aesthetics. This essay, first given as a keynote speech to the 2021 African Studies Association Annual Conference, examines some debates about the relationship between language and power and argues that these are being upended by writers who do not fit conventional categories, including transnational African writers. These writers are exploring the range of options presented by their own multilingualism and making unapologetic aesthetic claims upon the English language.

The comparative analysis of three “contested truths” around COVID-19 in East Africa demonstrates that knowledge is a product of knotted, uneven, and disputed epistemological practices tied to structures of power. Lee, Meek, and Katumusiime examine: (1) the construction of a pan-African skepticism of COVID-19 that drew on anti-imperialist discourses; (2) social media posts through which Tanzanian digital publics critically evaluated steam inhalation as an alternative therapeutic for COVID-19; and (3) the resistance by many Ugandans to complying with public health measures such as lockdowns. “Contested truths” is used as an analytical framework to center the specificity and situatedness of truth-making in East Africa during the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Shortcut English” is a pidgin spoken between Zambians and Chinese migrants at a Chinese-operated mine in southern Zambia. Contrary to most historical contact languages, the symbolic valences of Shortcut English favor the Zambian laborers over the Chinese mine managers and owners. In the past, Zambians at Summers have categorized Chinese as bamukuwa/ “whites.” Haruyama analyzes how the racializing dynamics of the new pidgin Shortcut English increasingly result in Chinese being figured as machainizi, a denigrated racial other whom Zambians see as unfit to run the mine, which contributes to sometimes violent resistance.

When COVID-19 reached Sierra Leone, the government responded by implementing strict containment measures. While the effectiveness of such actions has been debated, the socioeconomic and political implications were undeniable. This qualitative study reveals that people suffered tremendously from economic insecurity, strains on social relationships, and civil rights violations, prompting many to perceive the COVID-19 pandemic as worse than the 2014–15 Ebola epidemic. These hardships have driven distrust of the government, which threatens continuing mitigation efforts. Using a feminist global health security frame, which recenters the protection of vulnerable individuals in relation to the state, we call for more contextually-relevant, civil society-informed pandemic responses.

In 1854, the Bank of Senegal was established using part of the compensation paid to former slave owners. The bank issued banknotes and provided modern financial services. Masaki analyzes the bank’s management and interrogates the widely accepted argument that merchants from Bordeaux controlled the bank to marginalize African merchants, concluding that the bank largely provided equitable service to this colony. Additionally, Masaki shows that the bank was a site of political struggles for the métis elites and suggests that the complexities of Senegalese society at the time made it difficult to assess the full scope of the bank’s operations.

African nations have struggled to secure lifesaving COVID-19 vaccines, while rich nations have purchased more than they needed, depleting the global supply. High vaccine prices and intellectual property regulations that block the production of cheaper generics have contributed to a condition of African waithood. Hagan examines this waithood, which characterizes the disjuncture between African countries’ existential and humanitarian need for COVID-19 vaccines and corporations’ quest for profits in the pandemic. African waithood, produced by pharmaceutical companies including Moderna and Pfizer, is a direct product of colonialism. Waithood echoes the ongoing colonial relations between African nations and the corporations that continue to exploit them.

The African Studies community has reinvigorated discussions about the racial and power dynamics of the field in the past few years. A core question has been how to Africanize knowledge production. Hadfield’s practical example as a white American historian involving Black South African oral history interview participants in different stages of the research process shows that successfully including interview participants in the interpretation stage requires clarity and transparency throughout. If meaningful dialogue is employed and human connections prioritized, the result should be a more accurate and inclusive process that satisfies all, even if scholars and participants disagree.

Marshall Sahlins claims that individuals with personal power, influence, networks, and control over their followers within the political sphere are actually “big-men” rather than “chiefs.” Big-men derive their authority from personal maneuvering, whereas “chiefs” obtain their authority from semi-hierarchical, formalized, and de-personalized rule. De Bruijne argues that those individuals who are perceived as “big men” in post-war Sierra Leone might be better understood as “chiefs.”

In South-Central Africa, British mining companies shadowed colonial monetization in an assertive and coercive manner. In the emerging settler states, African money users were obliged to adjust to colonial money for the payment of tax and transactions. Yet they often found it difficult to obtain access to colonial currency. Company rule in the region was initially closely connected to the South African economy, but currencies separated as a result of South Africa’s economy building in the 1920s. Nyamunda and Mseba tell the story of the struggles of African money users in engaging with colonial currency.

Memory book projects encourage parents living with HIV to write workbooks for their children about their family background and life experiences, to guide the child in the parent’s future absence. In Uganda, site of the first memory book projects in Africa, most writers have been widows with agrarian background and limited schooling. Oike conducts a close literary textual analysis of an exceptionally intensive memory book written by a schoolteacher, examines how the book helped the author to represent her traumatic experiences of living with and dying of HIV, and explores the possibilities of memory books as a tool for grassroots writing.

Pallaver situates German East Africa within the framework of the broader East African region as a way to illuminate the processes of currency standardization in the colonial context. The monetary geography of the region was determined first by the circulation of the rupee and later by Great Britain’s interests to create a common currency for its East African colonies. Pallaver argues that transimperial, international, and regional contexts influenced currency circulation across and within colonies, drawing attention to forms of colonial money and their use by distinct groups, such as African laborers and Indian traders.

Different political projects and ideological positions are founded upon distinct accounts of the past, each with their own emphases, silences, and omissions. The case of Zimbabwe illustrates this connection between power and history. Whereas the myths of colonial historiography provided legitimization frameworks for settler colonialism, “patriotic history” became a key element of the legitimation strategy implemented by the post-independence regime. Pinto analyses how history and historiography were incorporated into narratives of power legitimization in both pre- and post-independence Zimbabwe and how, in the late 90s, history and historiography became critical sites of political polarization and contestation.

La communication politique conventionnelle occulte l’usage des symboles culturels de l’apparence que sont les vêtements lors des campagnes électorales. Or le vêtement est incorporé à l’œuvre de conquête et de conservation du pouvoir politique du fait de son potentiel de séduction. En prenant pour site d’observation la campagne pour l’élection présidentielle camerounaise d’octobre 2018, cet article entreprend de rendre intelligible le comportement vestimentaire des candidats. Les données de cette étude sont issues d’une observation participante lors de meetings et de l’analyse des affiches de campagnes de cette élection. Il en ressort que le vêtement est un média de l’expression de la personnalité et des stratégies de séduction des candidats qui agit davantage comme un stimuli de la mobilisation que comme un déterminant du vote.

As the silence of male CRSV victims continues to be debated, some argue that gender norms and a lack of agency contribute to the silence of victims, even as others assert that victims exercise agency by speaking selectively about their experiences. In northern Nigeria, the concept of kunya—a model for appropriate behaviour rooted in the importance of secrecy and discretion—plays a role in the silencing of victims. We examine how kunya contributes to the invisibility of victims and influences their silence, as well as how victims use silence to gain social tolerability and/or protect themselves from re-victimization. We argue that an attentiveness to such community-specific cultural precepts and norms can further our understanding of the silence (and silencing) of victims and survivors.