Walls holding Africa back not made of concrete
The rise of terrorism in West Africa and its cross-border security implications have recently renewed calls for tighter border controls.
This renewed attention on what some scholars call the “borderscape” comes at the very moment African governments are being urged to open their borders to boost trade.
Balancing the demand for freer movement with the need for enhanced security remains one of the most paradoxical challenges facing African states.
Understandably, opinions on how to manage this tension vary widely.
For simplicity, these debates often fall into two camps: those who advocate for more open borders despite security worries, and those who propose drastic measures—such as building high walls or fences reminiscent of the biblical walls of Jericho—to seal off national borders.
Recent global debates, including the controversial wall proposed in the United States to curb migration, have shown how explosive the subject can be.
But border security challenges are not unique to the global north.
They remain an urgent concern across the global south, including right here in Sub-Saharan Africa.
It was against this backdrop that a Nigerian general, reflecting on the spread of jihadist violence in West Africa, suggested that Nigeria should urgently consider constructing a fence along its borders. He cited (unverified) US statistics claiming that border walls greatly reduce illegal migration.
His comments, shared on a platform I belong to, triggered instant reactions.
While one person acknowledged the painful reality of insecurity and expressed sympathy for the general’s suggestion, the overwhelming majority—including several senior generals—condemned the proposal as colonial, divisive, and potentially dangerous.
They argued that such ideas deepen Africa’s historic fragmentation and threaten ECOWAS principles of free movement.
My own criticisms of colonialism and the 1884 Berlin Conference’s arbitrary partitioning of Africa are well known.
I agree that physical walls perpetuate these partitions.
However, I believe we should pay even greater attention to the invisible walls—the ones built in our minds and embedded in international systems—that continue to hinder Africa’s development.
The Invisible Walls We Forget to See
Walls we forget to see
The first wall was not made of bricks or barbed wire. It was the mental and political barrier created when Africa was carved up in Berlin.
That wall sits deep in our consciousness, shaping our identities, our policies, and our relations with our neighbours. It has also been reproduced in countless international instruments, norms, and practices—too many to recount here.
Drawing on insights from feminist theory and critical race studies, I argue that abstract structures of discrimination are often more enduring than physical ones. Unlike concrete walls, which provoke immediate protests and media attention, abstract forms of exclusion camouflage themselves as normal, necessary, or even beneficial.
When leaders erect physical walls, the outrage is swift and visible. Former US President Donald Trump’s wall is a perfect example.
Yet when exclusion is embedded in visa regimes, international norms, institutional “rules of appropriateness,” or seemingly neutral global systems, it persists quietly and unchallenged.
These are the walls that restrict opportunity, limit mobility, and sustain global inequalities—but because they appear mundane, they attract little scrutiny.
Feminist and critical race theorists have long highlighted this stealthy form of discrimination: the way ordinary, everyday structures reproduce inequality while portraying themselves as reasonable and inevitable.
Abstract more Dangerous
Abstract structures endure precisely because they are not dramatic.
They do not appear on the evening news.
They are woven into policies, customs, and bureaucracies that appear harmless but quietly disadvantage the marginalised.
When issues fade from public attention, they persist.
When they gain attention, they attract resistance and reform.
That is why placing discrimination in the abstract has been one of the most effective methods of perpetuating structural inequality.
This logic extends far beyond migration or borders.
Consider how society treats crime: a young man who steals a mobile phone faces swift punishment and public condemnation.
Yet someone who embezzles millions from state resources—often in collusion with political elites—can pay lawyers to defend them and may escape meaningful consequences.
The man with a knife is labelled ruthless; the one with a pen is praised as respectable.
Both steal, but the latter operates in the abstract, protected by systems that legitimise elite wrongdoing.
Look beyond
If physical border walls provoke outrage, then perhaps it is time we direct similar outrage at the invisible barriers that sustain Africa’s subordinate position in the global order.
These abstract walls—whether in visa systems, trade rules, international financing structures, or even our own internalised colonial mentalities—have done far more damage than any fence along a border ever could.
By focusing only on concrete walls, we risk missing the deeper, subtler forces that shape our development.
True liberation will require us to interrogate not only the walls we can see, but especially the ones we cannot.
Before I close, two tangential but important points.
First, in the fight against galamsey, we must also scrutinise the role of multinational mining companies—fairly but thoroughly.
Second, development challenges cannot be blamed solely on external actors.
We contribute to our own problems, and we must accept responsibility where it is due.
Still, the lesson remains: look carefully at the abstract, and you will be astonished at what has been hiding in plain sight.
When I pondered concluding this piece, I could not help but recall 2 Corinthians 4:18: “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (NIV).
Emmanuel Sowatey. (PhD,Cantab)Email:
