I recently had a conversation. A conversation with someone whose life is a bit more removed from the direct impact of colonization—a life foreign to me, as I’ve grown up in a country founded on colonization. Here, I’ve witnessed the ongoing struggles and consequences that these colonial foundations continue to impose on our First Nations people.
I thrive on these kinds of discussions, as they leave me buzzing with thoughts about how I could have framed my position better or how I can reshape narratives that are often skewed by deeply entrenched colonial frameworks and understandings.
The conversation I had was met with openness, something I appreciated. The person I was speaking with acknowledged their ignorance of the topic and their limitations in understanding it fully, an important recognition. After all, without awareness of our limitations, there’s little room for growth or the opportunity to challenge our perspectives and become better informed.
While I’m not directly and negatively impacted by the colonial foundations we discussed, I became acutely aware of how differently we viewed the world, largely because of the environments we come from. At the same time, I recognize the irony in telling this story. I, too, occupy a position of privilege. I am white, and that comes with immense benefits. But perhaps my greatest privilege is being aware of the struggles caused by my very presence in this country. It’s a further privilege to be able to immerse myself in the knowledge of both the colonised and the colonisers, to sit between these worlds and observe without feeling their direct weight. That is the most significant privilege of all.
The question that arose during our conversation revolved around the development and progression of formerly colonised nations.
"It's 2022. Why can’t nations like those in Africa fix themselves and address the development issues they continue to face?”
A valid and curious question, and one that certainly invites debate. But the answer is both simple and deeply complex. The mentality of “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” comes to mind. The idea that success comes solely from individual effort is something that resonates in many Western cultures, and there is value in that perspective. But in the context of development, this mindset can be misleading. While self-determination is crucial, Western colonial constructs distort our ability to understand the immense challenges faced by nations that were ravaged by colonial exploitation.
It’s much easier to pull yourself up by the bootstraps when you still have those boots—and when they haven’t been stolen from under your feet.
I like to use the analogy of a car. The wheels move you forward, the steering wheel helps you make decisions, the engine keeps you running, and the petrol gives you the resources to move efficiently. Seatbelts offer safety, the navigation system gives you direction, and the locks provide security.
But what if my car had been broken into? What if they stole my wheels, drained my petrol, and cut my seatbelts—and yet I was still expected to drive?
It just doesn’t work.
This issue becomes even more complicated when we consider the ongoing exploitation of vulnerable nations. While many are now decolonized, they remain tied to the same powers that once ruled them, unable to fully break free from the grasp of their former colonisers.
In a previous piece I wrote titled Foreign Aid, I explored some of the factors contributing to this continuing colonial grip. I wrote:
“Africa is rich with natural resources. The continent holds roughly 30% of the world’s mineral reserves. So why, then, does a continent with such immense wealth potential remain so poor?”
The exploitation of these resources has led to corruption, allowing foreign elites to benefit from the continent’s wealth at the expense of its people. Tom Burgis describes Africa as “the continent that is at once the world’s poorest and, arguably, its richest.” He further explains that multinational corporations wield enormous economic and political power in post-independence African countries, drawing a “pretty straight line from colonial exploitation to modern exploitation.”
Decolonized nations, particularly in Africa, continue to suffer from external interference, which deprives them of true autonomy. This is evident in the way foreign aid is administered. Only 1% of aid provided to African nations is allocated to humanitarian assistance; the remaining 99% serves to facilitate trade and political relationships, benefiting donor countries far more than the recipient nations.
When we consider the expectation that post-colonial nations should "fix themselves," we must also factor in the continued manipulation and exploitation by foreign powers. These influences keep nations dependent, stalling true development and preventing them from addressing their issues independently.
In Foreign Aid, I also discussed the conditionalities attached to foreign aid. Zambian economist Dambisa Moyo explains that aid is often tied in three ways: recipient nations must spend the aid on goods and services from the donor country, the donor country decides how the aid is used, and aid is only given if the recipient agrees to certain political and economic policies. This essentially maintains the same patterns of exploitation that existed during colonial times.
For every dollar of aid sent to developing nations, about ten dollars return to donor countries. Hugo Slim estimates that $200 billion is transferred from developing to donor nations every year. Aid, in this context, isn’t about helping nations develop; it’s about reinforcing the interests of wealthy states.
The legacy of colonisation has long-term consequences. The “Scramble for Africa,” for instance, left behind artificial borders that continue to stoke ethnic tensions and conflicts. These borders were drawn without regard for the people living there, contributing to ongoing civil unrest, discrimination, and underdevelopment.
The colonial grip may have loosened, but its effects are still felt today. Post-colonial nations remain trapped in a cycle of dependency, feeding the demands of their former colonizers under the guise of “foreign aid.”
So, to answer the question:
"Why can’t nations like those in Africa fix themselves?”
We must first examine the structures and systems that continue to benefit us, while keeping others oppressed. Development can’t happen in a vacuum, and it certainly can’t happen while the boots and the straps to pull them up have already been taken.
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