PRETORIA – Each year on May 25, Africa Day commemorates a moment of political awakening, a day that, for many across the continent, continues to represent an ongoing struggle. While it honors past milestones, it also encourages reflection on persistent challenges and the path toward reclamation.
Established in 1963 to mark the founding of the Organisation of African Unity, the forerunner of today’s African Union, Africa Day emerged from Pan-Africanist ideals and a collective demand for self-governance.
It was a time characterized by newly raised independence flags, sweeping visions of continental unity, and bold proclamations such as that of Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah: “Independence is only the prelude to a new and more involved struggle for the right to conduct our own economic and social affairs… unhampered by crushing and humiliating neo-colonialist controls.”
After six decades, that “more involved struggle” has grown into a broader demand for sovereignty and a deepening call for reparations. The African Union, in a landmark decision, declared 2025 as the “Year of Justice for Africans and People of African Descent Through Reparations.”
This declaration reflects years of advocacy by governments, civil society organizations and cultural workers, though for many it remains insufficient in the absence of tangible outcomes.
“I don’t celebrate the African Union’s symbolism,” said Yodith Gideon, a business consultant and human rights activist. “Africa Day should ignite bold action, not speeches. Reparations aren’t just about the past — they are about us repairing ourselves.”
For some, that repair begins in cultural expression. In Johannesburg, dancer and model Judith Banza Ngoie sees Africa Day as a celebration not centered on officialdom but embodied through creativity. “It’s about using my art to bring out the African in me, to honor where I come from.”
Turning Words Into Power
Momentum for the African Union’s reparations framework accelerated during the 2023 Accra Reparations Conference, where participants adopted the Accra Proclamation.
The document proposed the creation of a Committee of Experts, the establishment of a Global Reparations Fund and the formulation of a legal and diplomatic strategy to seek redress through international mechanisms.
The plan also emphasized collaboration with the Caribbean Community and partners across the Global South, promoting a unified stance among post-colonial nations pursuing historical justice.
The aspirations expressed by the President of Ghana, John Dramani Mahama, during his Africa Day address point to a shared sentiment: “acknowledging the profound and enduring damage inflicted upon our people” and “confronting the uncomfortable truths of our pasts and taking concrete steps to rectify these wrongs.”
Implementation, as with many political undertakings, remains the point at which rhetoric is tested against reality. A growing chorus of youth, artists, women, and grassroots advocates demands influence to determine the shape and substance of the reparations agenda.
“We must recognize the bravery of our ancestors who resisted colonial fraud — and match that courage today,” said Eliane Bappa, a global education ambassador.
Cultural restitution has become an increasingly vital component of the movement. While African leaders continue efforts to reclaim artifacts looted during the colonial period, artists and thinkers are interrogating the processes through which these items are returned.
Governments in Germany, France, Belgium and the United Kingdom have initiated returns of stolen cultural property.
These transfers, often sporadic and influenced by domestic political considerations or diplomatic positioning, tend to lack a coordinated or equitable framework.
Such piecemeal efforts risk turning restitution into performance rather than a practice grounded in accountability.
France’s formal restitution policy has come under scrutiny for being selective and sluggish, leaving African nations with minimal agency in determining how and when their cultural heritage is restored.
Filmmaker Mati Diop, whose documentary Dahomey addresses the restitution of 26 objects from the Musée du Quai Branly in Paris to Benin, once the Kingdom of Dahomey, has spoken candidly about the inadequacy of these actions.
“Dahomey is a light put on an injustice that needed to be shared and discussed,” she has said.
The gesture, she contends, lacks the depth needed to reconcile the historical theft of thousands of African artifacts still held in European institutions and feels more like a symbolic overture than a genuine reckoning.
As the demands for restitution and justice gather force, African leaders are increasingly framing this period as one defined by both moral and strategic vision.
Mahmoud Ali Youssouf, Chairperson of the African Union Commission, emphasized this perspective during his 2025 Africa Day address: “It is up to us Africans, to assert our values, reaffirm our convictions and gain the respect of all nations by our capacity to weigh on the global arena.”
His message speaks to a growing belief that the continent’s dignity and influence must derive from internal resilience rather than external acknowledgment.
Beyond Symbolism
Speaking at UNESCO’s Africa Week in 2025, Liberia’s envoy Lorenzo Witherspoon expressed frustration with the slow pace of change. “Our history has been erased or stolen. Destroying memory is a crime. Reparations must include rebuilding what was taken — our stories, our knowledge, our future.”
As Africa works to reclaim its history and reframe its relationship with the world, long-standing questions emerge about the balance between autonomy and cooperation.
The road to reparative justice may depend on whether sovereignty requires a decisive break from dependency, one in which Africa no longer seeks validation through external mechanisms but instead builds a future grounded in its own vision and strength.
So, can Africa achieve reparative justice without sacrificing partnership?
This report was written by Felix Tih and Refilwe Queen.
