One of the most persistent tropes relating to African borders, which is much beloved by travel writers and bloggers, is the remote and dusty crossing that appears to have been all but forgotten by national governments: the roads are rough, there is no electricity and formalities are adhered to, but in a scarcely recognizable bureaucratic form. Of course, it is easy to point to such representations as, at best, partial truths. Many of Africa’s capitals and many of its largest cities are actually located on international boundaries, while border towns are often bustling zones of engagement where substantial volumes of trade and large numbers of people enter and exit on a daily basis. Viewed from the margins, it is the multiple levels of connectivity – between settlements on two sides of the border but also much further afield – that stands out. Finally, with so many resources currently being invested in cross-border infrastructure, the stock images of remoteness and neglect seem more misplaced than ever. In this book, I have repeatedly underlined the vitality of African borderlands, but I have also sought to advance a much larger claim, namely that the geographical margins have shaped states at least as much as the other way around.