As the South African judiciary prepares to deliver its imminent verdict on Kemi Seba—the controversial pan-African activist arrested in mid-April while attempting to enter Zimbabwe illegally—writer Venance Konan reflects on whether the 1.5 million social media followers he commands truly embody the spirit of modern panafricanism. This moment invites a deeper exploration of the movement’s history and its many reinterpretations over time.
Who is Kemi Seba, and what does his arrest reveal about today’s panafricanism?
What could possibly unite a radical pan-African activist with a white South African apartheid nostalgic? Kemi Seba—born Stellio Gilles Robert Capo Chichi in Benin, holder of a Nigerian diplomatic passport—was recently detained in South Africa alongside his 18-year-old son and François Van der Merwe, a South African white supremacist who longs for the apartheid era.
Seba heads the NGO “Urgences panafricanistes” and is widely recognized for his fiery pan-African rhetoric, virulent anti-French stance, opposition to the CFA franc, and antisemitic remarks. These positions led to the revocation of his French citizenship, which he had retained from birth. Authorities in Benin have charged him with “apology for state security crimes and incitement to rebellion” after he posted a video supporting soldiers involved in last December’s failed coup attempt. An international arrest warrant has been issued against him.
According to early reports, Seba was attempting to enter Zimbabwe illegally, with Van der Merwe’s assistance, before continuing—likely—to Europe.
Russian propaganda and backing of Sahel dictatorships
Alongside figures like Franklin Nyamsi and Nathalie Yamb, Kemi Seba ranks among the loudest voices of Francophone African panafricanism today. All three share a common enemy: France. Yet they also serve as Moscow’s most prominent propagandists on the continent and the staunchest supporters of the military juntas in the Alliance of Sahel States—Assimi Goïta in Mali, Ibrahim Traoré in Burkina Faso, and Abdourahamane Tiani in Niger.
Is this what modern panafricanism has become? A movement that fights French influence only to embrace Russian overlordship and prop up authoritarian regimes that openly reject democracy?
The roots of panafricanism: from anti-colonial struggle to fractured ideals
Panafricanism emerged in the early 20th century within Black intellectual circles in the Americas and the Caribbean. It later became a driving force behind the anti-colonial struggles across Africa, producing iconic leaders like Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, Ahmed Sékou Touré of Guinea, and Patrice Lumumba of the Democratic Republic of Congo.
The ideology also galvanized the Fédération des étudiants d’Afrique noire en France (FEANF), a student union founded in 1950 that quickly adopted a political agenda advocating decolonization and continental unity. Its fierce opposition to the Algerian War drew the ire of French authorities, who retaliated by raising rents for African students, cutting scholarships, and placing them under constant police surveillance. The FEANF was dissolved in 1980.
The independence of Ghana in 1957 and most African nations in 1960 were hailed as triumphs of panafricanist struggle. The creation of the Organization of African Unity (OAU) in 1963 was seen as a step toward continental unification. Yet, once independence was achieved, narrow nationalisms took hold. Attempts at unity failed, and even new separatist movements arose—such as the independence of Eritrea and the split of Sudan, or the Biafra conflict in Nigeria and the Casamance rebellion in Senegal.
In 2002, Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi pushed to transform the OAU into the African Union (AU), hoping to revive the vision of a united Africa. However, this initiative stalled, and Gaddafi himself was killed by a Franco-American-British coalition in 2011. The AU introduced the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (NEPAD) in 2001 as a roadmap to accelerate integration and development, but the initiative has since faded into obscurity.
From civil wars to the persecution of Africans
Today, declaring oneself a panafricanist has become almost obligatory—whether for visiting French politicians who declare their “love for Africa” or African leaders who establish ministries (or at least departments) of African integration. For example, former Ivorian president Laurent Gbagbo recently launched the Party of African Peoples-Côte d’Ivoire (PPA-CI), branding it panafricanist.
Similarly, Senegal’s ruling party is called the Patriotic Africans of Senegal for Work, Ethics, and Fraternity (PASTEF). Yet in practice, African nations—when not mired in civil war (as in the Horn of Africa, the two Sudans, or the Great Lakes region)—often turn on their own people. South Africa regularly deports other Africans, while West African states eye each other with suspicion, especially between Sahelian junta-led countries and members of ECOWAS.
Is today’s panafricanism real or a hollow facade?
If today’s most visible panafricanists are Kemi Seba, Franklin Nyamsi, and Nathalie Yamb—three of the most vocal figures on social media—where does authentic panafricanism stand?
Seba, originally from Benin, once held French citizenship before it was revoked. Nyamsi, from Cameroon, is also French and faces sanctions from Paris for his anti-French rhetoric. Yamb, of Cameroonian-Swiss descent, has been sanctioned by the European Union for the same reasons. They claim persecution for fighting Western—and specifically French—domination. But where is the panafricanism in aligning with Russian interests on the continent? Is liberation achieved by trading one master for another?
Can panafricanism be genuine when it serves brutal dictatorships that silence dissent, jail opponents, and eliminate critics? In leaked phone conversations, Seba reportedly called Nyamsi and Yamb “opportunists” working for Faure Gnassingbé, Togo’s president. Seba, despite his anti-French rhetoric, has even expressed regret over losing his French citizenship.
Plainly stated: this brand of panafricanism is rancid, diluted, and reeks of deception. Yet, in a world dominated by predatory powers, Africa has no choice but to unite—urgently—if it hopes to survive.
