By Toyin Falola

Having the renowned lawyer and activist Dele Farotimi on the Toyin Falola Interviews series was a pleasure. As expressed in the interview, some of his opinions and sides of the stories were intriguing. This piece, one of several, is a recap and critique of some of his expressions, narrations, and perspectives, particularly regarding his recent trial.

The nation was engulfed in widespread speculation and discourse following Farotimi’s arrest and subsequent trial on criminal charges. This development precipitated a proliferation of diverse opinions, with some voices commending the actions taken against him while others vehemently condemned them. The ensuing public debate was primarily catalysed by Farotimi’s thought-provoking publication, Nigeria and Its Criminal Justice System, a critical examination of the country’s legal framework. In this work, he meticulously analyses Nigeria’s criminal justice system, shedding light on its structural deficiencies and highlighting pressing issues that have continued to undermine the integrity of the nation’s legal jurisprudence.

The critical question that emerges from this legal drama is whether Farotimi’s trial symbolized, in a broader sense, a metaphorical trial of the Nigerian judiciary itself. His incisive critique, as articulated in his book, presents a stark indictment of the criminal justice system. It unequivocally asserts that “The Nigerian justice system has no justice to dispense and has evolved to become a putrefaction that has taken over the land.” Such a bold assertion inevitably unsettled the judiciary, prompting a reaction that, in many ways, seemed to validate the very criticisms Farotimi had put forth against it.

While the judiciary, as an institution, could not formally place Farotimi on trial for his views, the legal challenge emerged through Chief Afe Babalola—a figure directly mentioned in the book—who possessed the requisite locus standi to initiate proceedings. Thus, the stage was set for a legal confrontation within the system Farotimi had accused of perpetuating the injustices it was meant to rectify. This unfolding spectacle, rife with legal and ideological implications, captivated observers and turned the courtroom into an arena where the foundational principles of justice and accountability were placed under scrutiny.

Eventually, the libel suit against Farotimi was withdrawn after the intervention of traditional leaders and high-ranking officials. However, the broader trial of the judiciary—one conducted in the court of public opinion—remains ongoing. While I do not entirely endorse Farotimi’s exact phrasing, a more tempered and nuanced articulation of his critique might have been more strategic. Nevertheless, what remains undeniable is that he illuminated the deep-seated issues of corruption and systemic failures within Nigeria’s criminal justice framework both in his book and when he explained his perspective during the Toyin Falola Network interview.

Society has assumed the prosecutor’s role, holding the judiciary accountable for its perceived shortcomings. However, dismissing the judiciary as a mere instrument of systemic injustice would be an oversimplification—and indeed an injustice. Despite its flaws, the judiciary has, at various times, upheld the rule of law and delivered landmark judgments reinforcing its critical role in governance.
A compelling illustration of this is the Supreme Court’s decision in Inakoju v. Adeleke, where the Oyo State House of Assembly sought to impeach the governor while invoking a constitutional provision barring judicial review of such proceedings. Unlike earlier instances of judicial capitulations, exemplified in the Musa Balarabe case, the court in Inakoju adopted a more assertive stance. Rather than accepting the ouster clause at face value, the Supreme Court engaged in a thorough interpretative analysis, affirming that judicial oversight could only be excluded if the impeachment process strictly adhered to the constitutional framework. This judicial decision imparted a distinct interpretative nuance to the constitutional provisions governing the impeachment of executive officials.

A similar demonstration of judicial ingenuity was evident when former President Olusegun Obasanjo attempted to declare the seat of his Vice President Atiku Abubakar vacant following the latter’s defection to the Action Congress in pursuit of its presidential nomination. In this instance, the judiciary displayed remarkable institutional independence by adhering strictly to the explicit wording of the law despite the significant political ramifications. Notably, the court’s ruling directly opposed the highest executive authority in the nation—the very individual responsible for appointing the head of the judiciary that ultimately adjudicated against him.

During the Toyin Falola Interview, Farotimi said, “If anybody was unhappy with what I have written, they should feel free to take me to court. I am happy to go through the same legal system I labelled institutionally corrupt. This is not a trial of Dele Farotimi; let nobody make that mistake. It is a trial of the legal system that we have built as a collective.” His remarks suggest that the real subject of scrutiny is not his actions but the judiciary itself, with allegations of systemic corruption forming the crux of the legal proceedings.

Within a democratic framework, the judiciary bears the critical responsibility of upholding the rule of law—a fundamental mechanism designed to ensure that electoral power, once converted into political authority, is not wielded arbitrarily. However, the central criticism against the judiciary is that it has failed in this duty, leading to a governance structure where the sanctity of law is frequently undermined. This perceived dereliction of judicial responsibility has, in turn, fostered an environment of legal uncertainty, edging the nation toward a state of near lawlessness and anarchy.

Farotimi did not hold back his ideas and notions of how circumventing the judiciary has been, particularly concerning the crisis surrounding the rule of law. He remarked thus: The point I’m making is that what we have right now that we are talking about in the judicial system is not an accident but a function of design. It must allow some people to exist above the law and minister the impunity required to govern Nigeria since it is not subject to the law.
This depiction paints a striking portrait of a nation where the judiciary appears complicit in undermining the rule of law. The reality is that any discourse on the judiciary’s prominence and efficiency is inextricably linked to the rule of law, serving as its fundamental litmus test. In essence, evaluating judicial integrity and effectiveness is impossible without critically assessing its commitment to upholding this principle.

The rule of law must be examined in direct correlation with the judiciary, as it is through this mechanism that the foundations of justice, equity, and societal order are preserved. Suppose the very body entrusted with safeguarding a legal framework designed for a just and functional society we collectively dream of cannot be held accountable for fulfilling its mandate. In that case, the distance between our present reality and that ideal remains wide. Despite the judiciary’s accolades and laudable achievements, it remains evident that, in many ways, it has systematically created a feudal system where the aspirations of the lords are propagated and pronounced through the instrumentality of the law. They force their will down the throats of the vassals, who are ignorant of this arrangement between the law and the lords, making them turn to the judiciary for fairness.

In one of the strongest opinions on law definition, Oliver Wendell Holmes postulated that “the law is the prophecy of what the courts would do and nothing more pretentious.” However, in the context of the Nigerian judiciary, the vassals put their hope in a pretentious court that often serves the interests of the lords rather than upholding the proper letter of the law. This is quite a variation from the law as defined by Holmes. Farotimi spoke precisely about this dynamic in the Toyin Falola Interviews. He claimed the upper class has consistently used the law to oppress anybody they want, boldly asserting that the Nigerian judiciary was intentionally designed to function that way.

Furthermore, in the interview, Farotimi comically exclaimed and corrected the panellist who suggested he was calling to suspend the rule of law. He emphasised the importance of the rule of law, anchoring on the fact that it remains pretty appalling that a democracy of 26 years still struggles to grasp this fundamental concept.

A tangential issue related to the duties of the judiciary is the office of “Human Rights Activism,” which has been created for some individuals. Farotimi believes that these offices are “suggestive of fraud.” In reality, if the judiciary is genuinely tied to the ground, then there will be less meddling in its affairs by human rights activists, who should exist primarily in dictatorial societies where the rule of law has been suspended, and an individual has been elevated above the law.

Fundamentally, the recent clamour for the recognition of LGBTQ rights in Nigeria cannot hold water because the country has not shown solidarity with the recognition of fundamental human rights, which the whole world has held to as inalienable. Is it then a “foreign concept” to be protected? This is not an argument advocating for the protection of gay rights but rather a broader critique of the judiciary’s frailty in upholding human rights despite the existence of legal frameworks designed to safeguard them. Laws such as the Fundamental Rights (Enforcement Procedure) Rules were enacted to provide a swift mechanism for protecting human rights while also eliminating restrictive barriers such as locus standi. However, the persistent judicial inertia and systemic inefficiencies continue to undermine these legal provisions, raising pressing concerns about the judiciary’s ability to function as the ultimate defender of individual liberties.

“For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease” (Job 14: 7). This Biblical reassurance is profound and instructive. We have witnessed moments of intelligence and ingenuity in the judiciary’s efforts to uphold the law and protect against arbitrariness. These instances prove that there is hope for the Nigerian judiciary. The hope of the common man is alive; however, systemic issues must be addressed. We need to restore the rule of law to the court’s dockets and eliminate the feudal and classist systems that have been inadvertently created. The law should serve as a prophecy of what the judiciary can do and not what it purports to do, and it should be nothing pretentious.

Panel discussion on Dele Rotimi: Politics, Law, and Society (3)

This is the second report on the interview with Dele Farotimi on February 16, 2025. For the transcript, see:

https://www.youtube.com/live/PpqyltxqcdQ?si=f2HtVvT-zCxaP7Bq 

By Toyin Falola

وَلَوِ ٱتَّبَعَ ٱلْحَقُّ أَهْوَآءَهُمْ لَفَسَدَتِ ٱلسَّمَٰوَٰتُ وَٱلْأَرْضُ وَمَن فِيهِنَّ ۚ بَلْ أَتَيْنَٰهُم بِذِكْرِهِمْ فَهُمْ عَن ذِكْرِهِم مُّعْرِضُونَ
Quran Chapter 23, Verse 71 (Surah Al-Mu’minun, Ayah 71)

And if the truth had followed their desires, verily the heavens and the earth and whosoever is therein had been corrupted. Rather, we have brought them their Reminder, but from their Reminder they now turn away.

The Roundtable

On February 16, 2024, four formidable men are seen gathered around a metaphorical roundtable heavy with the weight of pressing national issues and questions. On this table lay a feast of the weighty problems: the turbulent waters of politics, the moral quagmire and complicity of the law and judiciary, and the poisoned tree of society. Each man took his turn, not to sip tea, of course, but to dissect the bitter truths of a nation at a crossroads. The setting is global. In Austin, Texas, it is 10 AM. In Nigeria, it is 6 PM. And in South Africa, it is 6 PM. The time difference, however, must not be mistaken for confusion. Instead, it reflects the vast reach of the conversation and the diversity of those seated at this metaphorical roundtable. On the one end of the table is Toyin Falola, an epistemologist and the evening’s anchor, depending, of course, on what the time says from where you are joining the discussion. Flanking him are two sharp-witted social commentators—Professor Farooq Kperogi and Mr. Rufai Oseni—both celebrated for their sharp social critiques and fearless engagement with the Nigerian reality. But at the centre of it all is the man of the moment—Dele Farotimi—who has found himself at the heart of public discourse following his explosive revelations about corruption within the Nigerian judiciary.

For those who prefer plain language over parables, the “roundtable” here is not a physical one; it is a discussion where power is questioned, narratives are challenged, and the future of a nation is debated. In this interview session with the man of the moment, Farotimi, the dialogue revolves around three crucial pillars—politics, law (with a sharp focus on the judiciary), and society.

The Satanic State

In the end, when Farotimi was asked to make his closing statement, I finally understood that he was talking about no power other than the Shaiṭān. When I invited him to make his closing statement, he invoked a Quranic passage:

Walawi ittabaAAa alhaqqu ahwaahum lafasadati alssamawatu waalardu waman feehinna bal ataynahum bithikrihim fahum AAan thikrihim muAAridoona

It was at that closing moment that I realized that Dele Farotimi had created a new intellectual concept: the Satanic State. Even Professor Farooq Kperogi, acting as the ‎أستاذ (Ustādh), that is, the teacher and master, asked Farotimi whether if Peter Obi had won, would he not have become a federal minister and “chopping life!”. Farotimi threw the stones at the devil, asking the Shaiṭān to leave him alone.

The Man Beyond the Storm

Dele Farotimi needs no introduction. Yet, when the anchor asked, “Who is Dele Farotimi?” it was not merely to set the tone for the evening’s dialogue. It was an invitation to explore the man beyond the controversies, beyond the storm that often surrounds him. Farotimi sees himself simply as a human being—no deity, no supernatural figure—just as a human being, a creation from God born through Yoruba parents in a space called Nigeria. He is just another man, an ordinary citizen—what lawyers would call the man on the Clapham Omnibus—seeking justice in a nation where oppression thrives. Unlike many, he refuses to remain silent in the face of oppression. He speaks his truth, even when the structures that sustain injustice in Nigeria would instead keep quiet.

Truth, Power, and Persecution

One might expect that after his ordeal with the very system he denounced in his widely discussed and controversial book, Nigeria and its Criminal Justice System, Farotimi would reconsider his stance—perhaps tread more cautiously. But watching him at the roundtable, it is evident that Farotimi cannot negotiate truth for comfort. His words, posture, and unwavering conviction reflect the grit and courage of a man who refuses to be silenced. We must, however, not mistake this for his proclivity for conflict. On the contrary, he exults peace and peaceful resolution of disputes. Farotimi is very emphatic that such should not come at the cost or expense of his silence. Although about four civil suits are still pending against him in different courts, he resists being cowed into silence. Being a consummate professional, he understands that his professional duty as a lawyer compels him not to comment on ongoing judicial proceedings in a way that could sabotage due process. But beyond that obligation, he maintains that he is under no legal or moral restraint from speaking his truth whenever the occasion demands.

And the truth? His book—the very book that landed him in prison custody for weeks. Farotimi said his book was not built on hearsay, idle beer-parlour gossip, or unfounded rumours. That will not be hard to believe. As a lawyer who knows his craft, he sure will appreciate the dangers of building a story on hearsay or rumour that would amount to a perilous dance into dangerous waters. He said his book was a product of thorough research based on his experiences and observations about the Nigerian judicial system. He does not seek validation or offer apologies for speaking the truth. His challenge remains: “Let us deal with veracity. Anybody can go and read and then come back and challenge me with the lie I have told.” His book was not borne out of malice or personal vendetta with Chief Afe Babalola or anybody. It was, and remains, a fearless indictment of the impunity and corruption that have replaced Lady Justice with a tainted symbol of power. As he puts it,
“Multiple names were mentioned in the book, and offences were mentioned. I did not set out to libel anybody… I simply told the truth of what I saw. All I did was to write a book. Maybe we have become too accustomed to lies and allergic to truth—to the point where telling the truth has become a sin.”

The Man on Trial

Farotimi laughs at the irony of those who think it is Farotimi as a person who stands trial for daring to speak truth to power. It is not Farotimi on trial. The actual defendant is not the man—it is the very superstructure of corruption that his book exposed—the Shaiṭān. The world watches as this system grapples with the truth it desperately wishes to silence. A man may be prosecuted or persecuted as the lines tend to be often blurred in Nigeria for his lies, but not for telling the truth. And the truth again? His book! The law must deal with facts. When it does, the workings of justice are neither mysticism nor rocket science. Law, like science, follows a method. Law, like mathematics, reaches conclusions with precision and certainty—provided it is grounded in facts. And undiluted and irrefutable facts are what he claims as the contents of his book. He wants to be challenged on falsehoods, if any exist, but not on the undeniable truth he has laid bare. His work is a critique and a prescription for a system diseased by corruption.

The Fruit and the Evil Tree

To Farotimi, the judiciary is merely a fruit—just one of the many heads in a hydra-like superstructure. One must take a holistic view to understand the deeply entrenched issues within Nigeria’s system truly. He aptly says, “You have to look to the tree producing the fruit if you want to change the fruit you are complaining about.” A hydra cannot be defeated by cutting off a single head; its body must be taken down. Similarly, corruption in the judiciary cannot be addressed in isolation. It is merely a symptom of a more significant problem—the poisoned tree that is Nigeria itself. This superstructure is tainted by impunity at every level.

To Farotimi, Nigeria has evolved into a modern feudal system, marked by a rigid class hierarchy where some individuals exist above the law. This reality is not accidental; it is by deliberate human design, structured to reinforce and entrench systemic injustice. The judiciary, rather than serving as an impartial arbiter of justice, has been weaponized to uphold the impunity of the ruling class. Thus, focusing solely on the judiciary is futile. It is just one of the many rotten fruits hanging from a poisoned tree. The real solution lies in examining and confronting the entire superstructure. Meaningful reform requires honesty and sincerity in addressing these systemic flaws. Only then can meaningful change begin.

A Country in the Lows

What could be more a story of the 21st century than our ugly realities? Farotimi finds it deeply troubling that while other nations are advancing discussions on specialised rights—such as animal rights, child rights, and gay rights—Nigeria has yet to secure even the most basic human rights. Here, he distinguishes between fundamental human rights and specialised human rights and asks how a country can engage in debates over specialised rights when it has failed to uphold fundamental human rights that go to the core of human dignity. Shockingly, these fundamental rights are still up for negotiation in Nigeria.

With regard to specialised rights, particularly gay rights, Farotimi considers himself a conservative, sort of. That notwithstanding, he distinguishes between private and public morality, as some legal theorists before him had made when confronted with questions of law and morality. Farotimi believes it should not be the headache of the state what two consenting adults choose to do in the comfort of their private lives, much more subjecting to criminal legislation.

Farotimi and Politics

Moving to politics, the dialogue becomes even more tense and heated. Here, we can see Professor Farooq Kperogi asking Farotimi a critical question—would it not be fair for the masses to see him as part of the political class, given his involvement in the last general elections and perceived affiliation with the Labour Party? In response, Farotimi firmly denies ever being a member of the Labour Party. Instead, he parallels the late elder statesman, Ayo Adebanjo, who was an influential voice in the national discourse despite never holding political office. Adebanjo was a moral compass, speaking truth to power without fear or care about whose ox got gored.
Similarly, Farotimi clarifies that his support for Peter Obi, the Labour Party’s presidential candidate, was not rooted in party loyalty but in principle. His decision was not based on party politics but on considering the best option among the three frontrunners. To him, Obi represented the closest vision of Nigeria he dreamed of—a country governed by the rule of law rather than one entrenched in oppression and victimization. While he acknowledges Obi’s imperfections, refusing to idolize him, he maintains that Obi was the most fitting candidate for the transformative leadership Nigeria needed. More significantly, through the lens of justice and equity, Obi embodied the struggle of the marginalized—a symbol of the ordinary masses oppressed by a political and economic system designed to serve a privileged elite.

Alliances and the Citizens’ Pact

Farotimi firmly believes that meaningful revolution can only be achieved by building strong alliances, not among self-serving politicians, but among ordinary people united by a shared vision, struggle, and hope. His support for Peter Obi was an extension of this belief—a commitment to align with the aspirations of everyday Nigerians seeking change. He argues that disengagement and non-alignment are not acts of wisdom but of complicity. True national transformation demands active participation, and abstaining from alliances built on truth and justice only prolongs the country’s decay. According to him, Nigeria’s continued descent into horrification is a direct result of collective inaction and the failure of its people to confront systemic shortcomings. To purify the nation, citizens must reclaim their agency, reject complacency, and unite to pursue a just and equitable society.

Peas in a Pod

At the other end of this roundtable discussion, Professor Kperogi probes the rationale behind the choice of Peter Obi, especially given that his ideology is not materially different from those of his political peers. For instance, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu supported the removal of the petroleum subsidy. From the centre of the table, Farotimi points out that Nigeria lacks the strictly compartmentalized, ideology-driven governance systems seen in countries like the UK or the USA, where politics is often divided along leftist and rightist lines. He doubts that Peter Obi would have implemented policies with the same severity as Tinubu. Even if Obi had decided to remove the fuel subsidy, Farotimi believes he would have been more responsive in introducing measures to mitigate the adverse effects on the people.
Ultimately, he asserts that policy decisions are neither inherently good nor bad—it all depends on the sincerity of implementation and the willingness to make necessary adjustments. For instance, how do you reconcile or explain away the hypocrisy of claims of removing fuel subsidy as a cost-cutting measure yet purchasing an unnecessary yacht?

Looking into the Future

What does the future hold for Farotimi? What role will he play in the 2027 general elections? Even Farotimi himself does not have the answers. But one thing he is sure of is his commitment to ensuring that every vote counts. However, he leaves us with a caveat: achieving this goal requires immediate and sustained efforts to reform the system. The future remains uncertain, but if there is one legacy he hopes to leave behind or for anyone to read in his obituary, it is that of “a man who lived by his conscience.”

PS: This is the first report on the interview with Dele Farotimi on February 16, 2025. For the transcript, see:

https://www.youtube.com/live/PpqyltxqcdQ?si=f2HtVvT-zCxaP7Bq

By Toyin Falola

Africa remains relevant to global politics. This view shapes the conversation generated on the possible impact of the Trump administration on Africa. Ironically, Africa often conforms to arrangements inspired by the powerful countries of the world, usually because they lack the collective ability to organize themselves as a continent. One emerging question that scholars ask about the unprogressive uncertainty that would emerge from the leadership of Trump is: How do African countries respond, individually or as a continent? The reason for this perspective is clear. If African countries make their demands from the American President who has introduced different policies, would they have the power of negotiations? And if they do as a continent, what if they also lose face in the process?

All these are deeply concerning as it seems the world is gradually moving towards a different character of international relationships. America is sometimes troubled, for example, with South Africa’s position regarding the war in Palestine, and for that reason, they tend to react with one-sided favouritism.

Considering the ongoing realities, however, necessary efforts must be taken regardless of their relationship prior to the emergence of President Trump. In any case, what will happen soon is uncertain, especially because nobody knows the consequences of the United States’ current policies. Even when these policies are unpredictable, Africa is greatly expectant of a future that does not put them in harm’s way, particularly for issues on which they have no input.

Scholars are beaming their searchlight of interest on what the American President means when he indicated that the US would be uninvolved in the international entanglements that some other countries face. They understand, to a considerable extent, that this reveals a posture to stand aloof in any conflict that does not have effects on America and its citizens. While that statement is good on its own, its face value is questioned, given that the same President intends to push an expansionist agenda, which, according to him, would see to the reclamation of what ordinarily belongs to America.

As a result, countries sharing borders with America would become the primary targets, which, on the surface, appears to be a problem that does not involve Africa. However, history has shown otherwise. Panellists understand that expansionism occurs in different dimensions, leading them to ponder how different countries of the world would react to this situation. Up to this moment, there has been ideological expansionism carried out by powerful countries, including America. Such conditions have necessitated the aggressive dislocation of many countries’ internal mechanisms for growth, as they draw inspiration from America, which seems to have established itself as the global police.

I now want to speak in parables. Although change is a constant thing, its underlying causes are often overlooked in the general scheme of things. Evading this germane question has often necessitated conversations that ignore fundamental issues about human development and the social ordering of events. For instance, when people argue that change is constant and believe it is exclusively inspired by nature or some forces against which they stand no chance, they inadvertently assume that making efforts to protect their interests or redirect things is futile. Such an orientation places humans in an extremely uncomfortable spot in matters concerning their welfare. If such thinking persists, they will eternally remove themselves from the possibility of dictating what happens to them. I have interacted with Africans who think in this way, and they are less active in matters that ordinarily concern their collective progress. From the beginning of contact with external civilizations, things that happen to them have either been conceived as nature-induced, against which there is nothing they can do, or seen as a necessary path in the evolution of their society. From natural disasters, which can be predicted and properly managed, to human-induced disasters, many African countries have suffered extensively over their assumption that these changes would happen whether they act or not. Today, they face an indescribable onslaught of their cultural and existential values, they are responding in familiar old ways.

There are several changes caused by humans themselves, and scientific research has established that there is a chain of actions initiated by humans that have tremendous effects on people’s activities, mostly in negative ways. It is common knowledge that human actions cause the current waves of climate disasters. Since climate problems are dispersed in the atmosphere, for example, their environment of influence cannot be pinned to a specific location, even when the centre point of the destruction is public knowledge. It is also a general understanding that Africa is often not mentioned in discussions of rapid technological inventions due to their relaxed nature of being consumers rather than producers of cutting-edge technologies.

Although that is not the focal point of this conversation, it cannot but be mentioned. Africa is never isolated from the problems of climate change, which are predominantly caused by countries and continents heavily involved in the technologization of the world with climate-unfriendly inventions that contribute to the common global problem, specifically climate disasters. Before now, more powerful countries, especially the United States, have made strenuous efforts in collaboration with non-state actors to facilitate programs and projects that would mitigate the burden of climate disasters on many underdeveloped countries so that they would not experience brutal consequences for which they are innocent.

In the TF Interview on Trump and Africa, one of the panellists reiterated why Africa should not be made to face the deleterious consequences of climate disasters. The awareness of two different facts underscores this informed position. One, the United States is on an accelerated path to conservatism, with the newly elected President Donald Trump committed to protecting Americans first, regardless of the situation. Meanwhile, “protection,” like many terms developed from a similar philosophical paradigm, is relative as it could potentially mean subjecting others to inordinate challenges they cannot surmount. Two, Africans have been innocent or the most climate-friendly continent with minimal contributions to environmental or emission-related disasters. The inventions and factories in Africa, most of which can emit dangerous content into the atmosphere, are either linked to global capitalists or are exclusively owned by them. The people of the continent have not shown similar ambition as others have in recent times.

Africans deserve some measure of respite and not policies that would further complicate their situations. This conversation is necessitated by the understanding that Africans themselves are weakened in global politics. Now that they may face increased climate difficulties, they cannot hold others responsible for their failure to act where and when they should. Across the world, respect is not given unless you demand it.

In any case, Africa should be prepared for uncertainties that would be the brainchild of such development. For example, if America pursues an expansionist agenda without failing, countries like Panama and Greenland, among other proximal societies to America, could trigger waves of terrorist reactions and responses, and no one can predict the consequences.

Therefore, African leaders cannot assume they are going to be unaffected by this development, as any meltdown in these places would ultimately affect the economic and sociopolitical exigencies of their people. This cannot be overemphasized, and African leaders must make necessary adjustments to successfully navigate such extreme conditions.What cannot be denied is that a “big man” is now in power who could reorder things differently. Africans must make the right decisions to ensure their interests.

(This is the final interview report with a panel of scholars on “President Trump and Africa” on January 26, 2025. For the transcript, see YouTube https://www.youtube.com/live/XFjeae1GceY?si=t0IlhQl3Qrs9W35v

Falola is Extraordinary Professor of Political Science,University of Pretoria.