I find myself fundamentally at odds with the growing calls for reparations for the transatlantic slave trade. While the emotional weight of history cannot be denied, it is equally important that we confront uncomfortable truths with honesty, balance, and introspection.

First, we must ask a difficult but necessary question: Were Africans entirely passive victims in the transatlantic slave trade? The historical record suggests otherwise.

Long before European involvement reached its peak, systems of servitude and human exchange already existed within African societies. When Europeans entered the trade, they did not operate in isolation. They relied heavily on existing local networks.

Who captured and sold the slaves? Africans did. Who negotiated prices and facilitated the trade? Africans did. Who benefited materially from the proceeds? African intermediaries, chiefs, merchants, and warlords did. These are not convenient facts, but they are facts nonetheless.

In Ghana, for example, a place like Salaga, widely recognised as a major slave market, was not a European settlement but an African-controlled trading hub. The transactions that took place there were often conducted between Africans themselves, with Europeans acting as external buyers.

This reality complicates the narrative of one-sided exploitation.

Even within our own communities, painful stories persist. Families, driven by poverty, survival instincts, or social obligations, sometimes sold their own kin. Sons and daughters were exchanged for modest quantities of guinea corn, pots of cowries, livestock, or to meet cultural demands such as funeral rites or bride price.

These were not transactions imposed at gunpoint by Europeans; they were decisions made within African societies under specific pressures and circumstances.

This raises a profound moral question: If we participated in the system (sometimes even at its foundation), on what basis do we now assign exclusive blame and demand reparations from others?

This is not to absolve European powers of their role. The transatlantic slave trade was brutal, dehumanising, and driven by insatiable demand from the West. However, acknowledging external responsibility should not mean erasing internal accountability.

Beyond history, we must also reflect on present realities.

Today, Africa continues to engage extensively with the very nations it accuses. We export our gold, diamonds, cocoa, oil, and other natural resources largely to Western markets. Our economies remain deeply intertwined with theirs.

If these nations were to disengage economically in response to such demands, could we sustain ourselves independently?

At this point, another uncomfortable but necessary question arises: If Europeans and Americans were wrong for buying human beings from us in the past for which we now demand reparations, why are they right today for buying our raw natural resources, while we remain content exporting them in their crude form instead of transforming them into finished products ourselves?

Or perhaps the answer is simple and painfully ironic: they are not “right”; they are simply doing what we have consistently allowed them to do; buy what we sell, in the form we choose to sell it.

Furthermore, millions of Africans actively seek better opportunities in Europe and North America. These destinations are not forced upon us; we pursue them willingly, often at great personal risk. This raises another contradiction: how do we reconcile our criticism of these societies with our collective desire to be part of them?

Even among our leadership, the contradictions are stark. Many African political elites seek advanced medical care, education, and security in Western countries. This suggests an implicit acknowledgment of the very systems we publicly criticise.

If we struggle to provide quality healthcare, education, and governance for ourselves, should our priority not be internal reform rather than external demands?

There is also a practical dimension to consider. Suppose reparations were granted, what would they achieve in the long term? Without strong institutions, accountability, and transparent governance, there is a real risk that such funds would not reach the ordinary African. Instead, they could be mismanaged, misappropriated, or lost to corruption, as has happened with many resource revenues.

Moreover, what precedent does this set? If historical injustices are to be monetised, where do we draw the line? Human history is filled with conquest, exploitation, and injustice across all civilisations.

Selectively pursuing reparations risks opening a complex and potentially endless chain of claims and counterclaims.

Rather than focusing outward, Africa might benefit more from a forward-looking approach:

Strengthening governance and institutions

Investing in education, healthcare, and innovation

Promoting intra-African trade and self-reliance

Building economies that serve African interests first

True empowerment lies not in compensation for past suffering, but in the capacity to shape our own future.

While the transatlantic slave trade remains a tragic chapter in human history, the call for reparations, as currently framed, risks oversimplifying a complex reality.

It shifts focus away from internal responsibility and present-day challenges. Africa’s progress will not ultimately depend on what is given to us, but on what we build for ourselves.