“When I get older, I will be stronger, they’ll call me freedom, just like a waving flag! And then it goes back, and then it goes back, and then it goes back, oh!”
This summer, from Accra to Tamale, little kids ran through the streets and waved their Ghanaian flag to the rhythm of that K’naan song whenever Ghana, or any African country, was playing in the World Cup.
The entire country became engulfed in a spirit of nationalism. The feeling of continental pride was even more overwhelming because the World Cup, the sporting event that we look forward to more than any other, was being held on African soil. This was the very same red soil crisscrossed by the bare feet of hopeful children and adults who harbored dreams of becoming like the heroes whose names were on the back of their jerseys.
This particular World Cup was unique in how successful it was in bringing people together. Former President Nelson Mandela rightly explained that “the World Cup will help unify people—if there is one thing in this planet that has the power to bind people, it is soccer.” Indeed, in South Africa, the successful unification of black and white citizens, and of the elite and middle class were necessary to successfully prepare for the tournament. On the continental scale, the World Cup boosted Africa’s image of itself. Two decades ago, no one would have dreamed that the last country on the continent to achieve independence would be the one with the infrastructure best suited to host the World Cup. This was a huge symbol of growth for the continent, and a confirmation of the belief that the African, too, is capable of managing his own affairs.
Still, it has been 50 years since a wave of independence swept across the African continent. The decrease of nationalist sentiment at the end of the World Cup was reminiscent of the late post-colonial era. Putting down our flags made us nostalgic for the days when these very flags were unveiled—the independence era. Those days were characterized by nascent feelings of hope, unity, and sheer pride in being African. And as soccer fans across the continent put on flashy Golden Jubilee celebrations, we must ask ourselves what we have achieved so far.
We vehemently fought for self-government, and yet all around us are dictators, military governments, and corrupt leaders who siphon money from their states for themselves. We fought to preserve our culture, and yet our political weakness has allowed globalization to usurp our values rather than merge with them, which has given us a massive inferiority complex.
We are losing our most promising young people to other countries that can offer better opportunities. This guarantees the continued stagnation of our economic development, dashing any hopes we may have of discouraging further migration.
I had a friend who once said he wished our Ghanaian ancestors had acquiesced to colonial rule for a little longer, so we might have had the chance to undergo development just as South Africa did. Thoughts like this undermine the importance and significance of independence, but also highlight the failures of the post-colonial African states.
So I ask again, what have we achieved so far? We have gained freedom, and freedom, according to Albert Camus “is nothing else than a chance to be better.” A chance to be better is the greatest asset the African continent has right now. The fact that we have the chance to do everything anew is what I love the most about it. This is an opportunity to look at the history of both the Orient and Occident, avoid the crucial mistakes they made, and take on the challenges they couldn’t.
Our new African society has the benefit of an educated class and a diaspora whose members will contribute progressive perspectives and indispensable experiences that, combined with traditional values, will help us provide African solutions to African problems.
Every new day brings some disturbing news from the continent, but as the little children waving their flags showed me, there is hope. There is hope for a brighter future, hope that we can change the world in which we live so that posterity does not have to endure what we endured. Hope that when I get older, I will be stronger. They’ll call me freedom, just like a waving flag.
