“[…]
The city wakes up
Brushes its teeth
And stares at the ceiling
Willing the day to pass
To bring it closer
To another tomorrow
To bring it closer
To the end of the month
To the salary-day
The day of importance
[…]”
Muhammad Al-Makki Ibraheem (Extrait cité dans Wanni, 2005).
1Long considered a bastion of African rurality, East Africa is urbanising at a rapid pace. Beyond the heterogenous situation of the urban transition in each country, this movement is leading to profound social and spatial transformations in this part of the continent, and is feeding significant debate in urban studies, particularly around “cityness” or urban life. Without necessarily using this term, an increasing number of publications are questioning the political, social, cultural, economic, and also sentimental or emotional dimensions of the relationship between individuals and the city. Dialogue arose, first between East African cities, focusing on the dynamics within the sub-region, which is now being extended to other African cities and beyond the continent (Landau and Freemantle, 2016; Rizzo and Azteni, 2020; Revilla, 2021). While French geographers have engaged in these debates, the English-speaking literature they draw on remains little known in the French-speaking academic world, particularly in France, for linguistic reasons, but especially due to the historic, in particular postcolonial, structure of research partnerships. This feature seeks to facilitate the distribution of this work in France, and to strengthen dialogue between French-speaking and English-speaking research on this subject, by showing the contribution of this part of the continent to multi-disciplinary debates on urban societies in Africa and beyond.
2Those who have contributed to this issue are researchers from different backgrounds who responded to our request and engaged in this dialogue by grappling with the concept of urban life or “cityness”. This concept was developed by French geographers in 1990-2000, primarily based on West African, Southern African and North African cities (Gervais-Lambony, 2004; Berry-Chikhaoui and Deboulet, 2000), and now resonates with an increasing quantity of research in East Africa. This work questions the processes, practices and representations by which individuals forge a tangible, symbolic, economic and political place in a city, along with the constantly renegotiated relationship between individuals and the city. While they do not directly use the term “cityness”, which is difficult to express in English (and could be considered the equivalent of urban life), they shed light on how the experience of life in cities contributes to building and modifying one’s relationship with self, others and time. Some question the matrices for urban socialising, the negotiation of social and spatial distance with relation to one’s neighbours or loved ones (Neumark, 2017; Revilla, 2020; Lockwood, 2023), the social boundaries established by individuals to find their place in very hierarchal urban societies (Mercer, 2018), forms of belonging to different social groups (Monteith, 2018; Stoll, 2018; Kinyanjui, 2019) and relationships to the State and the legitimisation of one’s presence in a city (Chauvin, 2010; Ruteere et al., 2013; Morange, 2015). Others question the relationship to self in ethical terms (Monteith, 2018; Moore, 2020; Thieme et al., 2021), the relationship to one’s body (Doherty, 2017; Kimari, 2018; Lanne, 2018), or the internalisation of standards or behaviours, especially entrepreneurial or neoliberal, (Di Nunzio, 2015; Thieme, 2015). Some question the contrasting capacities of citizens to reconfigure memories or imagine their future (Di Nunzio, 2019), or pass on values to the next generations. Others consider their capacity to deal with everyday life, “pushin’ the day”, as heard frequently in Nairobi, or “willing the day to pass”, to cite the Sudanese poet, Muhammad Al-Makki Ibraheem, who is quoted above. This issue is part of these discussions. Without claiming to be exhaustive, thematic or spatial, it seeks to create a soundbox for research from the English-speaking and French-speaking worlds. Three articles were therefore written, in full or in part, by Kenyan and Burundian researchers, whose works are published in France for the first time.
3This is about exploring “cityness” or urban life from East Africa and from its cities, while distancing ourselves from “reworking” this concept in a way that examines its regional variations. Our purpose is not to postulate on any East African homogeneity or specificity in this subject, but to extract this concept from the context in which it emerged, and thereby generate “friction” (Jazeel, 2019) by juxtaposing it with urban contexts in which it has been less researched than in other parts of the continent, especially in other English-speaking contexts, such as Southern Africa (Gervais-Lambony, 2004; Buire, 2019). This distance allows us to question the “provincialism” of our conceptions (Houssay-Holzschuch, 2020), which are often French-centred or centred on Northern or other parts of the African continent preferred by French-speaking research. Here, East Africa is treated as a very vast regional area, of “variable geometry” (Fouéré and Maupeu, 2015), stretching from Madagascar in the south to the Horn of Africa in the north, and from the big lakes in the west (Rwanda, Burundi and eastern Democratic Republic of Congo) to the Swahili coast in the east, including island areas in the western Indian Ocean. This very extensive conception of the East Africa “region” is similar to that of UNDESA (United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs), which means we can avoid debate on the boundaries of this area (François, 2000; Calas, 2001) and tackle the diversity of social and spatial practices in contrasting cities, such as Khartoum (Sudan), Nairobi (Kenya), Addis Ababa (Ethiopia), Antananarivo (Madagascar) and Uvira (eastern DRC) while taking into account the diversity of East African urban configurations.
4This broad understanding of East Africa is also consistent with the ambition to decentre the perspective on urban life, focusing on the least urbanised part of the continent, which is also the part urbanising the most quickly. The regional urbanisation rate is 29%, compared with 47.7% in West Africa and 51.1% in Asia (UNDESA, 2018), and the urban growth rate was 4.32% annually, between 2015 and 2020. In comparison, over the same period, West Africa had an annual growth rate of 4.04%, and Asia 2.16% (UNDESA, 2018). Come forecasts estimate that in 2100, five of the twenty largest cities in the world will be in East Africa (Dar es Salaam, Nairobi, Kampala, Mogadishu and Addis Ababa). Today, none of them are in the 70 largest urban areas (Hoornweg and Pope, 2017, cited by Goodfellow, 2022). The widespread urbanisation of East African societies is linked to sustained economic growth, the liberalisation of economies and the alignment of national projects, which were previously ideologically opposed, around neoliberal values (Fouéré and Maupeu, 2015). East Africa’s participation in global trade has intensified and regional cooperation has been reactivated, particularly with the resurgence of the East African Community. This urbanisation movement now affects the entire regional area, and most countries are aligned with the neoliberal path of economic emergence and urbanisation of Kenya, which has been a pioneer in this movement, with an urban population of 29% in 2022, compared to 7% in 19601. While one third of the region’s urban population lived in Kenya in 2010, landlocked countries, previously considered rural, like Rwanda and Uganda, are undergoing rapid urbanisation. Drawing on the case studies presented in this feature, the urbanisation rates in 2022 were 36% in Sudan, 23% in Ethiopia and 40% in Madagascar, compared to 11%, 6% and 11% respectively in 19602.
- 3 Source: E-Geopolis, The world population database, 2020. [Online]. E-Geopolis Institute, founded an (...)
5This urban revolution impacts both large metropolitan areas and secondary cities of smaller or intermediate size (OECD/SWAC, 2020). The urban transition is fed simultaneously from the top and bottom of urban networks. Examining urban life in East Africa is a way of partially correcting distortions linked to the metropolitan prism through which it is often considered. While 35% of Kenyan city dwellers lived in Nairobi in 1980, this figure was only 21% in 2000 and 16.5% today3. Behind the generic term of urbanisation hide very disparate realities, with dual metropolitan areas, both showcasing new cosmopolitan lifestyles while also generating inequalities (Nairobi, Kigali, Addis Ababa, Dar Es Salaam, Bujumbura, Antananarivo); large cities grappling with conflict or post-conflict situations (Juba, Mogadishu, Goma); rapidly expanding regional metropolitan areas (Kisumu, Nakuru, Arusha); and densely populated small and mid-sized cities (Eldoret, Ruiru, Machakos and Meru in Kenya; Gulu, Lira and Jinja in Uganda; Mwanza, Mbeya and Dodoma in Tanzania; Gitega, Ngozi and Rumonge in Burundi). East Africa therefore invites us to pay special attention to small cities, and also to the outskirts of large urban areas, which can be less well-known spaces than the central parts of metropolitan regions.
6In this feature, articles on large metropolitan areas dominate, more specifically the capital cities located at the top of the urban hierarchy: Antananarivo, Khartoum, Addis Ababa and Nairobi. However, two contributions focus on more modest-sized cities: Thika, the capital of Kiambu County, with approximately 250,000 inhabitants, located on the far outskirts of Nairobi; and Uvira, the county seat of South Kivu Province in eastern DRC, with over 600,000 inhabitants. Moreover, three articles consider the outskirts of urban areas, the “world’s urban frontier” to use the expression employed by Tom Goodfellow (2022), which are the backdrop of intense reconfiguration, destruction/reconstruction dynamics associated with politics, social issues and property. These transformations are of different types: linked to war in Khartoum, metropolisation in Thika; and property speculation in the far outskirts of Greater Nairobi, dozens of kilometres from the metropolitan centre.
7Alice Franck and Corten Perez-Houis analyse the reconfiguration of urban life in the outskirts of Khartoum. For many years, these areas have welcomed refugees from past conflicts, but are now also home to city dwellers fleeing the city centre, because for the first time in its post-colonial history, Khartoum is directly afflicted by war. The divide between the white city centre and the black and less “urbanised” migrant outskirts, which strongly structures collective representations, is therefore receding. These rapidly changing outskirts are no longer spaces of relegation and poverty. They are quickly transforming with large construction projects, partially driven by national housing policy and thanks to the ready availability of cement building blocks. These new neighbourhoods are home to residents with very diverse life stories, socio-economic profiles and ambitions. Here, their urban life is analysed from two perspectives: the plurality of residential strategies for those purchasing private property, and the increase in collective demand on urban services and public space.
8Sylvain Racaud and Nathan Kariuki analyse the rise in street trade in Thika and how street vendors are negotiating a place in an urban context supportive of their activities, due to strong urban growth and the intensity of commuter flows with Nairobi, enabled by the recent construction of major motorway infrastructure. In Thika, like in other African cities and beyond, they have to deal with State inconsistencies and volatile practices. They therefore engage in a complex game, exploiting contradictions between levels of government, political U-turns by elected officials during election periods, and disagreements between municipal departments. The originality of this article lies in its examination of the effects of metropolisation on street trading policy in Greater Nairobi. Today, Thika has been drawn into the same neoliberal and “beautification” regeneration movement as Nairobi ten years ago, occupying a key place in the metropolitan growth strategy (Vision 2030). This context is detrimental to street vendors who have to contend with attempts to relegate them to markets increasingly on the outskirts (not just far from Nairobi CBD, but also far from Thika city centre). However, metropolisation also means that they can negotiate authorisation to work in Thika, in exchange for a promise to vote, taking advantage of the lability of their territorial roots as voters.
9In the In Pictures section linked to the feature, Bérénice Bon examines the role of urban land commodification in the transformations of the outskirts of the small town of Kitengela (40 km from Nairobi) and Konza Ranch (70 km from Nairobi). She describes the plotting and subdivision of land, linked to property transactions happening on agricultural land and in pastoral areas in Greater Nairobi. Her analysis is conducted on a micro-local scale, based on the plot biographies method. Interviews with investors document the profiles, journeys and strategies of the buyers of these plots. In addition, systematic photographic monitoring over the past three years records the visual traces of the landscapes associated with these plots, which are not yet built up, giving a diachronic perspective of the “city of the future”, which is still invisible but undergoing construction.
- 4 New Partnership for Africa’s Development, an initiative launched by various African presidents in 2 (...)
10Alongside transformation of the urban peripheries, the landscapes of city centres are continuing their spectacular transition, which began in the 2000s with the neo-liberalisation of public policy. The activation of new silk roads and the launch of major infrastructure projects (large development corridors built around rail and energy infrastructure since the launch of NEPAD4) are associated with large urban projects: light railway, urban motorways, large property development operations. These are accompanied by visions of modernity but also generate feelings of anxiety (Kimari, 2020) and fears of being classed out, for certain fringes of urban societies. The opaque nature of decision-making in this field, along with the appearance of foreign players in these operations, contribute to the development of ambivalent urban representations, marked by hope but also anxiety linked to the feeling that decisions are arbitrary and unjust (Di Nunzio, 2019; Kimari, 2021), in the working classes but also among wealthier residents.
11Jackson Kago, Catherine Gateri and Owiti A K’Akumu consider urban change caused by the concentration of international capital in large East African metropolitan areas. However, they discuss it from the lens of an historically wealthy central neighbourhood in Nairobi, called Kileleshwa, which has become a prime target for property developers. Historical owners of detached homes are concerned to see the construction of residential complexes consisting of high-rise apartment blocks. The densification and verticalisation of Kileleshwa reflect the intensity of property speculation. These transformations raise concerns for residents who are witnessing the transformation of their neighbourhood, and also for those who have to leave in the short or longer term due to the increase in rent and housing prices. Here, the isolationism of the middle classes who “close the door” behind them to protect their class privileges (“class closure” – Lockwood, 2023), can be observed in an original manner, beyond the traditional opposition of rich and poor. In Kileleshwa, very wealthy owners, traditionally based in the neighbourhood, are opposed with an emerging middle class of first-time buyers, able to purchase thanks to a mortgage.
12Meanwhile, Bezunesh Tamru questions the effects on urban life of evictions caused by urban mega-projects supported by the State, in Addis Ababa. North-East of the capital sits the Tchaka project (meaning “forest” in Amharic), which is a sort of super-artificialised and ultra-modern urban enclave, funded by Emirati capital to target the global elite. Local residents are required to make way to free up urban land. These subjugated city residents, living in the semi-rural margins that have gradually been connected to the city, are well integrated into the urban economy, especially due to their economic practices. However, they have different capacities for obtaining the compensation owing to them. Those with a long lease (carta system) or who have inherited or purchased a right to usufruct of the land enjoy a better level of compensation (another plot of land and financial aid to rebuild elsewhere). The author documents the fracturing of the social group through a typology of forms of relationship to the State, which opposes legitimists (legalists), opportunists (negotiators) and invisibles (who depend on the main home, or who are descendants of the rightful owner). These include young people developing “survival-driven urban lives” by staying put despite the fact that losing one’s home also means losing one’s ID (which is attached to the former address), stripping them of numerous social rights. She also documents the feeling of those who have been evicted, which oscillates between nostalgia, hope, resignation, anger and determination to fight to continue to survive in the city.
13Other situations are particularly characterised by the construction of complex social stigma, and affect the urban legitimacy of minorities. This is true of Indians living in Antananarivo, where Catherine Fournet-Guérin questions their “vulnerability” as urban residents. Their longstanding presence in cities in East Africa is linked to the well-documented history of the circulation of goods and cultures across the Indian Ocean (Adam, 2009). We know that the unique position of East Africa, in contact with trade between the western Indian Ocean, South Asia, and Eastern Asia, helped form highly multi-cultural urban societies. However, Catherine Fournet-Guérin recalls that in Antananarivo, the Indian minority is systematically assigned a status of “otherness”, despite their longstanding roots in the Malagasy capital, and expresses a feeling of vulnerability. The urban life of its members is weakened, not by being relegated to rural areas, but because they are designated as “other” (foreigners, regardless of their nationality), which, in recent history, has fed into violence against this group. This results in a strong feeling of insecurity, which impacts on everyday mobility and requires the group to constantly renegotiate their place in the city. This stigma is linked to clichés that reduce this minority, who are small in number but very visible within the area, to its wealthiest members and feeds into a fantasy about national dispossession for some Malagasies. Thanks to a survey conducted in multiple locations, including Paris and Antananarivo, the author shows how this minority, which remains constantly on the alert due to regular persecutions, negotiates their presence in the city by increasing the registers of legitimacy, either through charity work with the poorest, hybrid funeral practices or by adhering to the urban codes of the Malagasy elite.
14Finally, Yves Malipo Kabiona looks at the city of Uvira, the county seat of South Kivu Province, home to over 600,000 inhabitants and one of the ten biggest cities in the country, analysing the residents’ engagement in armed groups in the region. These are often considered to operate out of the rural bushlands. Presenting an alternative interpretation, the author shows the importance of urban roots in the formation of a militant network. He questions the complex construction of identities in this context where major issues associated with conflict over the legitimacy of indigenousness weigh heavily. He discusses the suspicion surrounding clandestine partisan affiliations and the various registers of action that support this engagement ex situ, including financial and logistics flows, and the circulation of information, blurring the traditional boundary between city and countryside. He also shows the importance of mutual societies and institutionalised urban organisations in the work of remembering conflict (1996-2003) and establishing identities, and more broadly explores the link between city and conflict in these urban societies that have been lastingly marked by war and for which the city is not simply a refuge from the violence that has taken hold in the countryside.
15In conclusion, this text reminds us that East Africa, a space marked by mass refugee movements, political violence and recurring wars, can shed direct light on the links between urbanisation, city and conflict. Here, urban life is impacted by the enduring and cyclical temporalities of war. Two contributions in this feature directly address the link between city, urbanisation and armed conflict, despite the fact that forms of war hide very different realities (in one case, street fighters with heavy weapons in the centre of Khartoum, in another case “remote” guerilla warfare in South Kivu). These articles both show that forms of collective organisation, born or consolidated in war (mutual societies in South Kivu and resistance committees in Khartoum), become longstanding actors in urban sociability. Both also express in their own way the fact that it is necessary, despite the war, and important, beyond the war, to write about the everyday lives of urban residents, in recent history marked by extraordinary events. This is true whether one is relatively far removed from conflict or directly immersed in this reality. It is also quite understandable that this writing is sometimes prevented or rendered too painful or vivid by the immediacy of events. It is also probable that some texts have never reached us for this reason.
“I speak of the immense city, a daily reality made of two words: the others,
And in each of them there is a severed self of an us, a self adrift.”
Octavio Paz, I speak of the city (“Je parle de la ville”), 1987.