Modern reinterpretation of traditional dishes can maintain technical excellence while preserving the emotion, identity, and memories embedded in the food. NB: What shared cultural specifics and culinary traditions have you noticed across countries and continents? FO: Through my travels, I have observed that despite geographic and ethnic differences, there are universal values in gastronomy. One of the strongest is respect for ingredients and seasonality. Traditional cuisines, whether in Central and Eastern Europe, Asia, or Latin America, developed from the availability of local produce, with careful attention to nature and minimizing waste. Another universal value is the social and familial dimension of food. Recipes are passed down not merely as technical instructions but as carriers of culture, emotion and identity. Food holds the memory of generations and creates a sense of belonging. This ties closely to history, as food becomes a living document of a society's past. From a culinary perspective, many techniques are universal: fermentation, curing, smoking, pickling, and slow cooking emerged independently worldwide as practical responses to preserving food and maximizing ingredient usage. These principles remain highly relevant today and form the foundation of authentic, sustainable cuisine.


In Central and Eastern Europe, I see particular emphasis on hospitality, the heartiness of meals, and family-centered dining. These principles resonate with many other global cuisines, showing that while forms differ, the underlying values are strikingly similar. Understanding these common layers allows me to work with both local and global perspectives, balancing tradition and modern culinary expression. NB: If national history is reflected in food traditions, how has it influenced Central and Eastern European cuisine? FO: I firmly believe that national history is one of the most powerful forces shaping food traditions. Cuisine acts as a living document, responding to wars, migrations, political shifts, economic crises, and periods of abundance. In Central and Eastern Europe, this historical imprint is particularly tangible. Many traditional recipes were born out of necessity, shaped by available resources and survival needs. Root vegetables, fermented foods, potatoes and cabbage became staples, carrying the memory and identity of entire regions. The Austro-Hungarian Empire left a shared culinary heritage, evident in dumplings, pastries, sauces, and meat preparation techniques. Later political regimes simplified dishes and suppressed regional diversity, further shaping culinary identity. History imprints itself systematically, not randomly.


As a chef, I strive to understand these layers, working with them so that the dishes I create not only taste remarkable but also tell the story of place, people, and generational knowledge. Modern interpretation can preserve authenticity and emotion while giving food a contemporary language. NB: How did socialism affect local food traditions and recipes? What were the positives and negatives? FO: Socialism had a significant and dual impact on gastronomy. On the positive side, it fostered resourcefulness, teaching people to cook efficiently, use every part of an ingredient, and create satisfying meals with limited resources. These practices — seasonal cooking, minimal waste, and home-based culinary creativity — remain relevant today, especially in the context of sustainability and zero-waste approaches. On the negative side, socialism led to homogenized flavors, centralized production, and a suppression of regional diversity. Many local recipes were simplified or lost their original character. Culinary creativity was often limited, and the richness of regional gastronomy was diminished. Overall, the positives and negatives were relatively balanced. The system left a strong culture of practical, resource-conscious cooking, but weakened regional uniqueness and culinary diversity.


Today, chefs face the challenge of preserving the valuable lessons while reviving local identity, creativity, and depth. NB: How do contemporary chefs balance traditional recipes with modern culinary trends? FO: From my perspective, the balance between tradition and modernity is at the core of contemporary cuisine. The flavors of childhood — the tastes and memories associated with meals from parents or grandparents — form the mental and emotional foundation for understanding food. These flavors carry cultural identity, history, and emotion, which must never be lost in reinterpretation. Modern techniques, innovative presentations, and new culinary approaches can enhance traditional dishes, but they should never overshadow the original intent or essence. A dish should evoke emotion and familiarity while speaking in a contemporary language. Achieving this balance requires understanding of ingredients, techniques, and the cultural context of each recipe. In practice, this means carefully analyzing traditional recipes, identifying their core identity — be it a texture, flavor profile, or emotional resonance — and then thoughtfully integrating modern elements. Whether through sous-vide precision, new plating aesthetics, or molecular techniques, the goal is to honor tradition while creating a meaningful, sensory experience for today’s diners.


NB: Has part of local food authenticity has been lost due to modernization, fast food, etc.? FO: I believe that modernization and the global spread of fast food have contributed to a measurable loss of authenticity in local cuisine. Fast food promotes convenience over connection to ingredients, process, and memory. While it meets certain societal needs, it often diminishes the value of traditions and the emotional depth associated with home-prepared meals. NB: Can we somehow use the modernization for good? FO: Modernization itself is not inherently negative. When approached responsibly, it can reinterpret traditions without erasing them. Authenticity is not defined by rigidity but by respect — for ingredients, regional methods, and culinary stories. Our responsibility is to safeguard these values, translating them into contemporary contexts in ways that engage today’s audience while preserving emotional resonance and cultural identity. In practical terms, this means balancing innovation with respect, integrating sustainable practices, elevating local and seasonal ingredients, and presenting traditional flavors in ways that remain recognizable, emotive, and culturally meaningful. Authenticity thrives not by resisting modernity, but by allowing it to enhance, not erase, the culinary narrative.


What does Tarique Rahman’s return after nearly 17 years in exile mean for Bangladesh?

Earlier this month, Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) Acting Chairman Tarique Rahman returned to the country after nearly 17 years in exile. Rahman, 60, an aspiring prime minister who has lived in the United Kingdom since fleeing Bangladesh in 2008 over what he described as a politically motivated persecution, arrived in the capital, Dhaka, on Thursday, January 8. His much-awaited homecoming was accompanied by overwhelming emotions and a huge public reception, with thousands of followers greeting him in Dhaka’s Purbanchal town. Who is Tarique Rahman? Tarique Rahman is the eldest son of former Prime Minister Khaleda Zia and former President Ziaur Rahman . In 2007, during the Sheikh Hasina government, he was charged with 84 counts of illegal activity , including corruption, money laundering, defamation, and murder, and sentenced to seven years in prison. His father, Ziaur Rahman, was a military officer turned political leader and founder of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP); he served as president from 1977 to 1981. Tarique Rahman was detained by the military-backed interim government from 2007 to 2008 and later released to go to the United Kingdom for medical treatment, where he remained in exile in London.


He was charged with several crimes in his native country, including a connection with a plot to assassinate then-Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina. However, on March 6, 2025, he was acquitted of most of the charges by the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court. What does Tarique Rahman’s return mean for the BNP? Last December 24, BNP spokesperson Ruhul Kabir Rizvi described Rahman’s return as “ a defining political moment ” for the country. It is indeed a crucial period. The BNP is the leading opposition group in Bangladesh’s new political landscape, which emerged after the overthrow of the Awami League government led by Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina during the July Uprising . The movement launched by students on August 5, 2024, led to the toppling of the government and Hasina’s resignation. BNP Secretary General Mirza Fakhrul-Islam Alamgir had stated that if the BNP were to return to power, three-time Prime Minister Khaleda Zia would again lead them as prime minister if she were healthy enough; otherwise, Tarique Rahman would be their nominee for prime minister.


However, following Zia’s death last December 30, the entire party is now looking to Rahman for leadership. Khaleda Zia’s death brought to a close one of the more consequential political careers in modern South Asia. Her political life captured Bangladesh’s unresolved tensions between democratic aspiration and institutional fragility, between nationalism and regional integration, and between autonomy and interdependence with India. As Bangladesh navigates a new political transition, her life offers enduring insights into the intersection of nationalism, democracy, and regional order. Rahman’s comeback amid Zia’s absence is likely to energize the BNP’s base and sway undecided voters in the short term. However, to translate momentum into electoral success, Rahman must demonstrate an ability to connect with the public, reassure a deeply polarized society, and offer a credible roadmap for reform and democratic transition. BNP’s love-hate relationship with the Jamaat Jamaat-e-Islami , the largest Islamist political party in Bangladesh, was an ally of the BNP during its 2001–2006 administration. However, this relationship had long been strained, and the BNP has since sought to reposition itself as a centrist force.


Now, after many years, the possibility of renewed alliance between the two parties has resurfaced, as the Jamaat attempts to thaw ties with the BNP ahead of the national elections on February 12. On January 1, after a condolence visit at BNP’s Gulshan Office following Zia’s death, Jamaat-e-Islami chief Shafiqur Rahman stated that the party and the BNP will work together in the future as they had in the past for the country’s interest, reports Prothom Alo . He also said , “BNP leaders including Tarique Rahman (BNP acting chairman) have expressed the same desire. We have also said that, for the sake of the stability of the nation for five years, in the interest of restoring a good environment, we need to think about whether we can all come up with something good together. We have also said that God willing, immediately after the elections, before forming the government, we will sit down; we will talk openly. We will think for the nation; we will make decisions for the nation.” Shafiqur Rahman is also considering forming a unity government after the next national election, Reuters reported .


According to Bangladeshi-Australian political commentator Faiyaz Hossain, those in Bangladesh waiting for a return to electoral democracy after February 12 are in for a rude awakening. “There is some support for the BNP after the demise of the former prime minister, Khaleda Zia. In the absence of the Awami League, it is the BNP alone that can win polls. … What is the point of talking about a unity government before the polls take place?” The question remains: even if the Jamaat succeeds in bringing about a unity government, would Bangladesh be able to recover from this state of political uncertainty and move toward a democratic transition? And who will run Bangladesh in the coming days, as the country is possibly entering a prolonged period of internal turmoil? Opportunity amid disorder For the BNP, this is an incredibly precarious political moment that could spell their victory or downfall. The autocracy of Sheikh Hasina has given way to “ mob rule ” in the interim government. The “ promise of a new Bangladesh ” is fading amid the interim government’s failure to restore law and order nationwide.


The National Citizens’ Party (NCP) , which often claims to be the legacy of the July-August movement, has also begun to lose legitimacy, especially after the official announcement of its electoral alliance with the Jamaat. This prompted many to question NCP’s credibility because of Jamaat’s controversial political history. The Jamaat opposed Bangladesh’s independence struggle in 1971 and is alleged to have collaborated in genocide and other crimes during the ensuing liberation war. Opponents of the Jamaat describe these as fundamentally incompatible with Bangladesh’s democratic spirit, and following this development, 13 central leaders of the student-led NCP have resigned since January 1. Meanwhile, the far-right Islamist forces are also deliberately attempting to steer Bangladesh toward an Islamic theocracy. This extremist surge alarmed the progressive and liberal factions of society, many of whom are now desperately searching for a political alternative and looking to Tarique Rahman as a potential savior. This vacuum presents the BNP with a rare opportunity to prove itself to the people of Bangladesh. Widely seen as the frontrunner in upcoming polls, with Rahman a leading contender for the premiership, the BNP appears eager to occupy the political space vacated by the now-banned Awami League .


‘I have a plan’ Rahman referenced Martin Luther King Jr.’s historic “I Have a Dream” speech (1963) in his homecoming speech . Standing before supporters in Dhaka, Rahman said he did not have a dream, but a plan, aimed at serving the people, accelerating development, and transforming the lives of ordinary citizens. “Standing on Bangladesh soil today, as a member of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, I want to say before all of you that I have a plan for the people of my country, for my country,” he declared . Although he did not discuss specifics, he was keen to explain that for it to be carried out, he needed the help of democratic forces across the country. “If you stand by us and support us, God willing, we will be able to implement this plan,” he further remarked. In his 15-minute address, Rahman repeatedly called for unity among democratic forces to ensure peace, discipline, and the safety and security of citizens “at any cost.” The road ahead Rahman also spoke of building a Bangladesh that would include all people — from the hill tracts to the plains — regardless of faith or identity.


The Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) region has a deep-rooted history of conflict , dating back to British colonial policies that promoted Bengali settlement in the hills. This resulted in the displacement and marginalization of Indigenous communities. Later, successive Bangladeshi governments adopted assimilationist policies , which intensified resentment and distrust in this sparsely populated region. Even under the interim government’s tenure, reports of dehumanizing treatment by security forces persist. Whether a BNP government under Tarique Rahman can meaningfully address violence and discrimination in the region remains an open question. More broadly, Rahman faces an uphill battle in a country experiencing a surge in violence against religious minorities, women, artists, and dissenters. Since his much-talked-about “plan” has not yet been made public, Tarique has already faced many challenges. The most pressing is to hold free and fair general elections. His survival in the country’s political landscape as a national icon will largely depend on his ability to transcend partisan identification. Observers insist that Bangladesh requires no new messiahs. It requires a democratic political party with collectively accountable, democratically minded leadership. Whether Tarique Rahman can rise to that challenge remains the central question of Bangladesh’s unfolding political moment.


Why India’s Aravalli Mountain Range matters: Interview with Anuradha P Dhawan

Stretching nearly 670 kilometres from Gujarat to New Delhi in the Northwestern India , the Aravalli range is one of the world’s oldest mountain systems. Older than the Himalayas , the range plays a critical role in northern India’s ecology — acting as a barrier against the eastward spread of the Thar Desert , recharging groundwater aquifers, and moderating temperatures in a region increasingly affected by heatwaves and air pollution. On November 20, 2025, the Supreme Court of India accepted a proposal from the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEFCC) to redefine what legally constitutes the Aravalli hills. Under this new definition, only landforms that rise at least 100 metres above the local ground level — along with their slopes and adjoining areas — will be recognised as part of the Aravalli range. While the court ordered a temporary pause on new mining leases in the area, it made clear that only hills meeting this elevation threshold would qualify for long-term legal protection.


This decision, described by the government as a move towards administrative uniformity across four states, has drawn sharp criticism from environmental experts who argue that it overlooks the geological and ecological continuity of the range. The verdict was among the final judgments delivered by Chief Justice Bhushan Gavai before his retirement. In its aftermath, serious protests and rallies have emerged across India, reflecting growing anxiety over the future of one of the country’s most fragile ecological systems. Environmentalists are afraid that nearly the entire Aravalli system could now be exposed to mining and real estate development. Against this backdrop, Global Voice’s contributor Abhimanyu Bandyopadhyay spoke to Anuradha P Dhawan, also known as Anu PD, a fashion designer, environmental activist, and the co-founder of the Aravalli Bachao Citizens’ Movement . She outlines why campaigners believe the court’s decision poses serious risks to the environment and to communities that depend on the Aravallis. Below are some excerpts from the interview: Abhimanyu Bandyopadhyay (AB): Before we move on to other questions, could you tell our readers a little about the Aravalli Bachao Citizens’ Movement? How did it all begin?


Anuradha P Dhawan (APD): The Aravalli Bachao Citizens’ Movement is a completely citizen-driven effort to protect the Aravallis from mining, real estate projects, illegal encroachments, landfills and the dilution of environmental laws. On February 24, 2025, residents of Gurugram learned that the Gurugram Metropolitan Development Authority was planning to construct a road cutting through the Aravalli Biodiversity Park, linking National Highway-48 with MG Road in Gurugram. This was a wake-up call for many of us who had been living in the city for a decade or more. Around 200 residents came together in response that day, and for the first time, the slogan “Aravalli Bachao” was raised. For many of us who had lived in the city for years, this was the first time we realised how vulnerable the Aravallis were and how little we actually knew about them. As discussions began, we discovered that the Haryana government was also planning to amend the Punjab Land Preservation Act (PLPA) , a law over a century old that provided crucial protection to forested areas in Punjab and Haryana, including large parts of the Aravallis.


The proposed amendment threatened to dilute these safeguards. At that point, it became clear that this was not just about one road, but about a systemic rollback of environmental protections. On February 27, a small group of us gathered outside three metro stations in Gurugram, holding placards and speaking directly to the citizens about the proposed legal changes and their consequences. That same day, the Haryana Assembly passed the amendment. However, within 24 hours, the Supreme Court stayed its implementation. While it was a limited victory, it convinced us that sustained action was necessary. That moment shaped the movement. Since then, thousands have joined to work on issues ranging from the NCR 2041 draft plan to forest protection nationwide. We see ourselves not as a formal organisation, but as a collective of citizens defending a shared ecological heritage. AB: Was there any organised resistance on this issue prior to the Aravalli Bachao Citizens’ Movement, or was this the first initiative of its kind? APD: Before Aravalli Bachao, there was no sustained, organised citizen resistance focused specifically on the Aravallis.


While individuals and experts had long spoken about the range’s ecological importance in various forums, there had not been a collective, citizen-led effort working consistently on Aravalli-related issues. In that sense, the movement marked a first. AB: Movements to protect the Aravalli range are not new. Why has the Supreme Court’s recent redefinition of the Aravalli hills triggered fresh protests now? APD: Because people tend to ignore everything until it hits them in the lungs. For years, ecological damage was easy to look away because people were so involved in their day-to-day grind of roti, kapda and makaan (A popular Hindi phrase that signifies the fundamental needs for human survival: roti/food, kapda/cloth and a makaan/house), that it clearly didn’t bother them. Now, all of a sudden, when pollution had started to enter their homes, when people literally couldn’t breathe, when taps ran dry, when newborns were being taken to lung specialists and senior citizens to emergency rooms, they started realising the intensity of the damage. The Supreme Court’s redefinition order landed at exactly this moment of collapse, and with this latest assault on Aravalli, we decided to leave no space for even one more day of delay.


Delhi-NCR and the entire north Indian belt are already one of the most polluted and water-stressed regions in India. Being the biggest climate regulators of the entire northern India, the Aravallis recharge groundwater, act as a natural barrier against desertification, sustain an extraordinary range of biodiversity, and form the majority of the forest cover of the Delhi National Capital Region. Without it, we all will be doomed. Yet recently, a senior television anchor claimed that Delhi’s polluted air cannot “escape” because of the Aravallis. In an age where mediocrity often replaces knowledge, this level of expertise sadly doesn’t surprise us. The encouraging part is that more people are finally beginning to understand why the Aravallis matter and are stepping forward to protect them. AB: The Supreme Court banned mining in the Aravalli hills of Faridabad, Gurugram and Mewat in 2002 and again in 2009. Yet illegal mining continues. How is that happening? APD: In 2020 and 2021, a group of us travelled deep into Haryana’s Mewat region. Officially, we went as trekkers and kept a low profile as we knew the risks.


The three districts you mentioned are all no-mining zones, but on the ground, the reality is very different. We witnessed and recorded multiple instances of illegal mining in these areas. One of the biggest reasons this continues is the growing power of the mining mafia. About two years ago, a Deputy Superintendent of Police was killed after being run over by a Backhoe Loader while investigating illegal mining in Mewat. That incident alone shows how dangerous this issue has become. We’ve been working on this cause for a long time, and illegal activity is almost routine now. Blasting usually starts early in the morning and wraps up by around 10 a.m. Over time, illegal tracks have been carved out for tractors and trolleys, and even camels are used to transport material, especially in remote areas. That’s how mining continues despite the ban. We filed cases and submitted video evidence, but nothing really moved. The legal process just drags on — hearings get postponed, dates keep changing, and the defence keeps asking for more time. It becomes an endless loop.


From the very beginning, our demands have been very basic. For example, a functional toll-free number where citizens can report illegal mining. Although there is a number that exists, it doesn’t work. And even when someone does pick up, complaints aren’t taken seriously. Simple solutions like using drone surveillance to monitor mining hotspots haven’t been implemented either. Whether it’s the government, the court, or even the system as a whole, it feels like there is a collective unwillingness to protect the Aravallis despite being aware of the consequences. AB: Do you think the Supreme Court’s recent verdict is a deliberate move to facilitate the implementation of the NCR-2041 plan? APD: Well, It all seems to be a part of a grand plan. When you look at how things have unfolded over the past few years, it’s difficult not to see a larger pattern. There’s a clear agenda to turn India into a global economic powerhouse, and to make that happen the country’s natural assets are probably being handed over to the corporates. Development, but at the cost of clean air, soil and water.


The SC’s verdict fits neatly into this trajectory effectively clearing the way for plans like NCR-2041 and legitimising the corporate invasion of ecologically sensitive land that should have been non-negotiable. The rot doesn’t stop there. Institutions meant to protect the public are being deliberately weakened, stripped of authority so they can’t interfere. The media is constantly being leaned on and individuals who speak out are being targeted and intimidated. This is an intentional clearing of the field. Obstacle by obstacle, safeguard by safeguard, they’re removing everything that stands in the way of a massive extraction project masquerading as development. For example, after the ease of doing business reforms began in 2019, the environmental clearance rejection rate reportedly dropped from around 70–80% to just 10–15%. In 2023, the Rajasthan government allowed major cement companies into the Aravalli region, opening it up to intensive mining. By 2024–25, Ambuja Cement alone saw a production increase of nearly 300%. At the same time, agricultural trees has been reclassified as forest to inflate forest cover numbers. When you put all of this together, it becomes difficult to see this as development driven by public or environmental interest rather than profit.


AB: Environment Minister Bhupender Yadav has said that “no relaxation has been granted” for the Aravallis and has accused critics of spreading misinformation. How do you respond? APD: The problem with the minister’s statement is that it doesn’t really come with verifiable data. There’s no clarity on the actual area of the Aravallis or even on how many hills qualify under the different definitions being used—whether it’s based on slope, geological criteria, or the new 100-metre height threshold. The Minister has claimed that the Aravalli range spans four states and 39 districts. However, no official list of these districts has been placed in the public domain. We are asking the minister to make the list of these 39 Aravalli districts public, so there is clarity on where the Aravallis are officially recognised in law. According to a Ministry of Environment and Forests committee report, prepared after much deliberation, 37 districts were initially mentioned, but only 34 were ultimately identified as Aravalli districts in the final analysis. So where does the figure of 39 come from? The Ministry’s reliance on the 100-metre height criterion further weakens conservation efforts.


This criterion originates from geological studies designed to facilitate mining operations, not ecological conservation. Applying it to environmental protection excludes the vast majority of Aravalli hills, which are lower in height but critically important for groundwater recharge, biodiversity, and climate resilience. Claims that this definition protects over 90 percent of the Aravalli area are unsupported, as it remains unclear what area this percentage refers to or what form of protection is being counted. The Ministry’s claim that the total area of the Aravallis is 1,47,000 square kilometres is similarly unsupported as no methodology or mapping exercise has been shared publicly. Moreover, most credible estimates put the Aravalli range at closer to 76,000 square kilometres! If this is the situation of the environment ministry of a country then God knows where we’re heading to. In practical terms, this opens up vast areas below the 100-metre threshold to mining, construction, commercial activities and real estate. So when the minister says no relaxation has been granted, it feels less like a factual clarification and more like an hollow attempt to construct a make believe narrative for the public.


AB: Environmental activists in India have often faced intimidation, harassment, and even arrest. Have members of the Aravalli Bachao Movement faced similar pressure? How do you view the recent crackdown on environmental activism in the country? APD: A few years ago, some of us were detained by the police simply for standing silently outside a venue where the chief minister was expected. We had informed the police that we only intended to hand over a letter. There were 30–40 people, including students, holding placards. We deliberately avoid calling our actions “protests,” as we follow Gandhian principles of peaceful, non-confrontational activism. Despite this, one colleague was manhandled, and we were taken to the police station for about three hours. Since then, we’ve received repeated calls from the Criminal Investigation Department (CID), home visits, and questioning about our work and “intentions,” even for silent gatherings. While we’ve been fortunate that it hasn’t escalated further, the broader trend is worrying. Environmental activists, journalists, and dissenting voices are increasingly treated as threats. We stand in solidarity with others facing similar pressure, including Sonam Wangchuk and the Save Ladakh campaign.


When children disclose abuse, families in rural Andhra Pradesh, India, often respond with silence

India has enacted strong child protection laws over the past decade, including the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences (POCSO) Act, 2012 , which criminalises sexual abuse of children and mandates child-friendly reporting and judicial procedures. Yet across many parts of the country, particularly in rural and semi-rural areas, families continue to struggle with how to respond when children disclose abuse. Legal provisions exist, but the moment of disclosure often unfolds inside households shaped by social hierarchy, economic dependence, and community scrutiny. This article draws on community-level reporting conducted between July 2023 and November 2024 in Andhra Pradesh, a state in southeastern India, across multiple mandals — local administrative units comparable to counties — including Prathipadu, Yeleswaram, Gandepalli, Kirlampudi, Sankhavaram, and Jaggampeta, primarily in and around Kakinada district, a coastal administrative district in the southeastern Indian state of Andhra Pradesh.


The reporting was carried out during child protection awareness sessions facilitated by SafeTalks, a community-based child protection initiative, along with follow-up conversations with children, adolescents, teachers, mothers, caregivers, and adult survivors. These were informal interactions rather than structured interviews, shaped by local language, cultural norms, and the sensitivity around the topic. Awareness reaches children, but adults remain unprepared In recent years, awareness about child sexual abuse has expanded in schools and community programs across India. Children are increasingly taught about “good touch” and “bad touch,” personal boundaries, and the importance of speaking up. However, the reporting found that adult caregivers are rarely included in equal depth. While children may learn how to recognize abuse, families often receive little guidance on how to respond if a disclosure occurs. Research reflects this gap. A 2024 study conducted in urban slums of Kakinada district found that although some adolescents could identify abusive acts, none of the participants were aware of the POCSO Act, and most did not know where or how to seek help after abuse.


The study also highlighted widespread confusion about disclosure pathways and available support mechanisms, a pattern echoed repeatedly during the field reporting. When disclosure becomes a family survival decision In many of the communities observed, families are organized around caste and kinship networks. The Caste system refers to long-standing social groupings in India that influence social authority, marriage practices, and everyday interactions. Within these systems, families often depend on elders, extended relatives, and community leaders for social legitimacy and economic stability. In such settings, disclosure of abuse was rarely treated as a private interaction between a child and a trusted adult. Instead, it frequently became a family crisis, requiring decisions that weighed social standing, financial dependence, marriage prospects, and community reputation. Caregivers described how abuse — particularly when the alleged perpetrator was a known individual — triggered fear of social exposure. In communities where families are closely interconnected, even seeking advice could risk becoming public knowledge. In the study, several caregivers reported not knowing where to report, who to approach, or what consequences would follow if formal systems were engaged.


This uncertainty often resulted in delayed responses, internal handling of disclosures, or silence. The long shadow of adult silence India has established multiple child protection reporting avenues, including CHILDLINE 1098 , a 24-hour toll-free emergency helpline, and the e-Box , an online reporting platform managed by the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights. Yet awareness of these mechanisms was inconsistent among caregivers interviewed during this reporting process. Some had heard of helplines but were unsure whether they were confidential, whether reporting would involve police action, or whether their child would be exposed to stigma or retaliation. The reporting also included conversations with adult survivors who reflected on how family responses shaped their long-term well-being. One woman in her mid-twenties, who asked to remain anonymous, shared that she disclosed abuse during childhood but felt her family struggled to respond protectively. While she is now financially independent and engaged in therapy, she described how unresolved silence continued to affect her sense of safety and relationships. “I wish my mother had responded differently and trusted me fully when I spoke,” she said.


Her account echoed a broader pattern: families did not necessarily dismiss disclosures out of indifference, but often lacked the tools, confidence, or social permission to respond in ways that centered the child. Beyond awareness: addressing the adult context of protection The experiences documented across these mandals suggest that child protection cannot rely solely on educating children. Disclosure occurs within families, and families operate within social systems that shape what responses feel possible. Without accessible guidance for caregivers — on how to respond, where to seek confidential support, and how to prioritise a child’s safety without triggering social harm — awareness risks stopping at recognition rather than leading to protection. The study from Andhra Pradesh highlights a critical but often overlooked reality: what happens after a child speaks is determined not only by law but also by the social worlds that families must navigate once silence is broken.


What does ‘partnership’ really mean for Africa and the European Union?

African and European leaders met in Luanda in November 2025 for the 7th African Union-European Union (AU-EU) Summit , aiming to bolster a partnership that has been pressured by shifting geopolitics and rising global competition. The summit marked 25 years since the AU-EU relationship took formal shape. Unlike earlier summits, leaders on both sides of the Mediterranean were confronting a world that had undergone dramatic changes since their last Joint Vision in early 2022. At the time, the war in Ukraine and the wave of coups across the Sahel had not yet fully reshaped global priorities. By 2025, Europe appeared increasingly preoccupied by security challenges closer to home, while Africa continued to grapple with violent conflict in some of its regions. For many Africans, however, the question is no longer simply why these summits keep happening, but how the commitments announced at such gatherings translate into everyday realities, particularly for a rapidly growing youth population.


Understanding the global competition for Africa Africa today sits at the center of overlapping bilateral and trilateral partnerships. Since the early 2010s, the continent has become the site of a renewed geopolitical contest. The first Africa-EU Summit took place in Cairo in April 2000, followed by the Lisbon Summit in 2007. Subsequent AU-EU summits reflected shifting global realities, including joint climate commitments in 2010, the launch of the EU-Africa Roadmap in 2014, and the recognition of the UN 2030 Agenda , the Paris Agreement, and Africa’s Agenda 2063 in 2017. Other “Africa + 1” summits, including the China-Africa , Russia-Africa , Turkey-Africa , and UAE-Africa summits, signal an intensifying scramble for markets, resources, and influence on the continent. In a video posted on YouTube, Comfort Ero , President and CEO of the International Crisis Group , described Africa as having “a weak center of gravity, lacking the governance architecture it needs. ” In practice, this has produced a fragmented engagement landscape in which external powers negotiate influence country by country, and African states form alliances in response to domestic and geopolitical pressures.


Shifting power dynamics in Africa This fluidity has generated uneven outcomes for global actors. France, for instance, has seen its influence collapse across much of the Sahel following the pivot of Mali , Burkina Faso , and Niger toward Russia after successive military coups. Similar patterns are visible among other powers. China’s long-established presence across Africa now competes more openly with middle powers and Gulf states such as Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE), which are also deploying financial power in countries like Djibouti and Sudan at a scale typically associated with traditional global superpowers. As one of the most active external actors in East Africa, the UAE has ongoing projects valued at approximately USD 59.4 billion , making it the fourth largest source of capital flows into Africa , after the European Union, China, and the United States. Analysts have, however, linked aspects of Emirati involvement to conflicts in Libya and Sudan, where such external engagement, as noted in Space Journal analysis, risks prolonging regional instability. India’s economic footprint has also expanded along a different trajectory.


Trade between India and Africa has averaged 18 percent annually since 2003 , reaching approximately USD 103 billion in 2023, positioning India among Africa’s largest trading partners alongside the European Union and China. The United States, meanwhile, has pursued more selective bilateral engagement, particularly around critical minerals. This includes a USD 553 million loan to a transport corridor linking the Democratic Republic of Congo’s copper belt to Angola’s Lobito port. Why Africa matters Africa holds 60 percent of the world’s solar potential and about 30 percent of global mineral reserves. It is also the world’s youngest continent, with 70 percent of its population under the age of 30. According to the United Nations World Population Prospects, Africa’s population is projected to nearly double between 2020 and 2050, rising from approximately 1.3 billion to 2.5 billion . It will then increase by more than half over the second half of the century, reaching approximately 3.9 billion by 2100.


By the end of the century, Africa is projected to have nearly as many people as all of Asia and roughly as many as the entire world in 1975. More than one in three people on Earth in 2100 will be African. This crowded courtship of the world with Africa extends beyond its minerals and markets into the information spaces. Chinese and Russian state-backed outlets such as CGTN , Xinhua , Russia Today , and Sputnik now compete for African audiences alongside Western broadcasters like the BBC and CNN , as well as Qatar-backed Al Jazeera, Iran’s Hausa TV, Germany’s Deutsche Welle , and Turkey’s multilingual TRT Afrika . The struggle for influence in Africa, it would seem, is as much about narratives as it is about power. Youth representation and the 2025 summit’s blind spots Amid the rhetoric of shared futures at the 2025 AU-EU summit, a persistent gap remained. While the African Union designated 2025 as the Year of Reparations , European engagement throughout the year largely remained confined to acknowledgements rather than commitments.


Africa’s call for historical justice, it would seem, lacked the institutional clarity and political seriousness required to compel meaningful engagement, even as its European counterpart continued to approach questions of historical responsibility with caution and deferral. This asymmetry was also reflected in the politics of participation at the summit itself. Speaking to Global Voices on the sidelines of the summit, Alma Jokinen , Finland’s Youth Envoy to the European Union, reflected on who was actually at the table. As far as I know, I am the only youth delegate within any national delegation, the only official youth representative here. Even some of those reporting from the youth summit are not young people… I do wish that in the future there would be many more present. The moment reflected a broader pattern in AU-EU relations, where ambitious language about inclusion and intergenerational partnership continues to sit uneasily alongside institutional practices that sideline the very people expected to inherit the outcomes of these agreements.


The hidden cost of India’s restriction on Bangladeshi visas

The August 2024 political upheaval in Bangladesh, which is marked by former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s forced ouster , triggered a chain reaction throughout South Asia. India responded by sharply restricting visa issuance to Bangladeshi citizens, citing security concerns amid rising anti-India sentiment . The decision came swiftly and decisively . Where India’s High Commission in Dhaka once processed 8,000 visas daily, now only emergency medical and student visas trickle through in limited numbers. The numbers tell a stark story of interdependence. From April 2023 to March 2024, more than 2.1 million Bangladeshis visited India , accounting for 22 percent of all foreign tourist arrivals. They came for medical treatment, shopping, cultural festivals, and family visits. They filled hotels, packed restaurants, and kept thousands of small businesses afloat. India issued over 2 million visas annually to Bangladeshis, most for medical purposes. Then, almost overnight, that flow stopped. Kolkata's “Mini Bangladesh” goes dark When walking through Free School Street, Marquis Street, or Sudder Street in Kolkata today visitors find a ghost town where a thriving commercial hub once stood.


This two-square-kilometer area, nicknamed “ Mini Bangladesh ,” served as the epicenter of Bangladeshi economic activity in India. Conservative estimates place losses at INR 1,000 crore (USD 110.8 million), though actual losses across New Market and Burrabazar likely exceed INR 5,000 crore (USD 554 million). Every day, INR 3 crore (USD 332,400) in business has simply evaporated. Currency exchanges that once bustled with customers exchanging Bangladeshi Taka now sit dormant, their electronic displays gathering dust. Travel agencies that booked hundreds of hotel rooms weekly report days without a single customer. Hotels that once operated at 80-90 percent occupancy now struggle to fill 5 percent of their rooms. By November 2024, four businesses had permanently shuttered , with more closures anticipated. Around 150 hotels face existential threats. Nearly 3,000 shops in the area confront the same grim reality. Approximately 40 percent of small and mid-sized restaurants have closed their doors , unable to survive without their primary customer base. Around 15,000 families depend directly on this tourism ecosystem. Homestay operators who rent rooms to visiting families earn nothing. Tour guides fluent in Bengali find no one to guide.


Taxi and auto-rickshaw drivers who specialize in airport pickups and city tours sit idle. Street food vendors who thrived on Bangladeshi customers’ love for Indian street food watch their businesses wither. Medical tourism’s dramatic decline India’s healthcare sector faces an even starker reality. Bangladesh made up 69 percent of India’s medical tourists , creating an over-reliance that now threatens the country’s entire medical tourism industry. This concentration made India vulnerable to diplomatic disruptions. The year-over-year decline tells a story: a 43 percent drop in November 2024 , followed by 59 percent in December. Despite restrictions, approximately 482,000 Bangladeshis still managed to reach India for medical treatment in 2024, down from 500,000 in 2023. Yet this represents patients with emergency medical visas only — the broader medical tourism market has collapsed. These patients brought billions in revenue . They chose hospitals in Kolkata, Chennai, Mumbai, and Bengaluru for treatments ranging from cardiac surgery to cancer care. Now those hospital beds remain empty. The infrastructure that supported this medical tourism pipeline has stalled. The Maitree Express, Bandhan Express, and Mitali Express, the trains connecting India and Bangladesh, have suspended operations since August 2024.


Patients who once made comfortable train journeys to Indian hospitals now face impossible barriers. CareEdge Ratings estimates a 10–15 percent reduction in total medical tourism to India long-term. This decline reshapes the entire sector’s economics and forces painful strategic recalculations. Ripples across sectors The impact of the restrictions extends beyond tourism and healthcare. Cross-border business travel restrictions complicate trade relationships, slow deal-making, and create friction in supply chains. Transportation infrastructure has suffered dramatically. Bus services between the two countries dropped from seven daily trips to just one or two, carrying 28 passengers each. The ripple effects touch tour operators, bus companies, and the entire logistics ecosystem supporting cross-border movement. Retail shopping tourism, once a major draw in New Market and Burrabazar, has virtually disappeared . Bangladeshi shoppers came not just for goods unavailable at home but for the shopping experience itself. That retail ecosystem is now fighting for survival. New destinations for medical tourism Bangladeshi patients haven’t stopped seeking treatment abroad. They’ve simply changed destinations. Thailand has emerged as the frontrunner, reporting a 200 percent increase in inquiries from Bangladeshi patients. Thai hospitals provide streamlined visa procedures, with medical institutions assisting with applications.


In 2019 alone, Bangladeshis spent over THB 6.7 billion (USD 212.9 million) on medical treatment in Thailand. That figure has likely grown substantially since India’s restrictions tightened. China has spotted the strategic opportunity. Bangladesh held medical tourism conferences with Chinese officials in Yunnan province, exploring partnerships ahead of the 50th anniversary of China-Bangladesh diplomatic relations in 2025. Plans for a “friendship hospital” in Dhaka signal China’s long-term commitment to capturing this market. Political strains, visa delays, and what patients describe as an “unwelcoming environment” in India continue pushing Bangladeshis toward alternatives. Each month of restrictions cements these new patterns. Each positive experience in Thailand or Malaysia makes a return to India less likely. Tourists pivot to neighboring countries Leisure tourism shows even more dramatic shifts. Sri Lanka experienced a 121.6 percent increase in Bangladeshi arrivals in 2024, welcoming 39,555 tourists. Bangladesh became Sri Lanka’s second-fastest-growing tourism source market, filling hotels and attractions that benefited from India’s restrictions. The Maldives saw a 52 percent increase , hosting 33,295 Bangladeshi arrivals. These travellers tend to be affluent, often seeking beach resorts and luxury experiences.


Nepal welcomed 48,848 Bangladeshi visitors in 2024, up from 36,483 in 2023 — a 34 percent jump. India previously attracted 40–45 percent of all Bangladeshi outbound tourists. Cultural ties, proximity, familial and historical connections made India the natural first choice. Now that the dominant position crumbles. From August to October 2024, Bangladeshi visitors to India dropped 28.44 percent year-over-year. The diplomatic paradox Prime Minister Modi speaks of maintaining “ people-to-people ” relationships with Bangladesh. The phrase appears in diplomatic statements and official communications. Yet how can people-to-people relationships survive when people cannot meet? The impact can already be seen. According to International Crisis Group , New Delhi’s refuge to Sheikh Hasina, who have already been convicted in Bangladesh is adding fuel to fire. After Hasina’s pro-India Awami League was forced out following the July 2024 upheavals, rightwing parties more skeptical of — and at times openly hostile toward — India stepped into the spotlight , amplifying voices that have helped sway public opinion against India amid decades of mistrust . Families can’t visit relatives for weddings, funerals, or festivals. Business partners struggle to maintain collaborations without face-to-face meetings.


Professor Imtiaz Ahmed describes the restrictions as “inhumane and unbecoming of a neighboring country,” noting the contradiction between stated desires for people-to-people ties and policies that prevent people from actually meeting. Each month of restrictions makes reconciliation harder. Young people in both countries grow up knowing borders as barriers rather than bridges. The true price of closed borders The numbers don’t lie. India has lost INR 5,000 crore (USD 554 million) of revenue in Kolkata alone. At least 69 percent of medical tourists were diverted elsewhere. And in India, 15,000 families are facing financial ruin due to the harsh visa restrictions. Meanwhile, India’s neighbors are feeling the boon as a regional realignment unfolds in real time. Can “people-to-people” relationships survive when people cannot actually meet? Young professionals build networks in Bangkok instead of Kolkata. Patients develop loyalty to Thai hospitals rather than Indian ones. Tourists discover Sri Lankan beaches instead of Indian heritage sites. These aren’t temporary shifts — they’re permanent realignments. While the visa and travel restrictions remain, India is losing revenue, influence, and goodwill. While Bangladesh loses convenient access to quality healthcare and cultural connections. How long can both nations tolerate this lose-lose situation before the losses become permanent?


How to turn Africa’s young demographic potential into a collective power

In public spaces, transport, and the media, we see the challenges facing an increasingly elderly population: increased healthcare needs, failure to adapt infrastructure, public transport, and housing to help maintain their independence. A few weeks ago, I travelled to Japan, where I saw firsthand how the aging population isn’t just an abstract statistic. In 2023, the Japanese population had a life expectancy of over 80 for both men and women, with those over 65 accounting for 29 percent of the population, and those under 15 accounting for 11 percent. Comparatively, for the same time period in Senegal , those over 65 accounted for 3.8 percent of the population, and those under 15 accounted for 39 percent. In Japan, in addition to this observation, I witnessed the effective social and spatial adaptation of infrastructure and services to support this age group: infrastructure designed for limited mobility, health devices, jobs dedicated to elder care, and even the use of technology to aid them in their daily tasks. However, in Africa, we tend to hear more about the population boom. After all, this continent now has the world’s youngest population.


According to a UNICEF report published in 2023, by 2050, Africa will account for around 41 percent of all global births — about 40 percent of all children under five, and 35 percent of all adolescents. This young population has the potential to be a massive force for change. Promising initiatives to combat major challenges When young people are supported, they demonstrate their independence and innovation. Such is the case in Kenya, where the Nairobi technology hubs power the “ Silicon Savannah ,” and in Tunisia, where the startup ecosystem is integrated into public employment policies. In Rwanda, the investment policy in digital technology and services has reduced young graduate unemployment by almost 10 percent over the past decade However, as education remains a privilege, this potential is largely underutilized. According to UNESCO, more than 98 million school-aged children and young people are out of school in Sub-Saharan Africa . For 15- to 17-year-olds, the school dropout rate exceeds 50 percent, including in technical courses, and is even higher for girls. As such, millions of young people leave the system without the necessary skills to become agents of development.


Only strong political will can reverse that trend, as shown in Ghana, where the Free Senior High School program, combining free access, scholarship policies, and facility improvements, increased secondary school enrolment by 69 percent between 2017 and 2022. Incompatibility between training and employment Sustainable development cannot be limited to access to education; it is still necessary to utilize the acquired skills. Many African education systems remain out of touch with the labor market needs. Technical, vocational, and digital education remains inadequate and often undervalued. The consequences are clear. Every year, 10 to 12 million young people enter the African labor market, but only 3.7 million formal jobs are created. Many turn to informal employment, with precarious incomes and no social protection. This lack of productivity hampers growth, weakens social cohesion, and often fuels migration. According to the National Bureau of Statistics , more than 92 percent of workers in Nigeria are now part of the informal work industry. This percentage is even greater among young people. In a study by the International Labor Organization (ILO), 98 percent of employed young men and 99 percent of employed young women report being in informal employment. In South Africa, informal employment accounts for a significant segment of the economy.


According to trade unions, this sector accounts for around 27 percent of the workforce. However, alternatives exist. In Somalia, social entrepreneur and Aspen Institute member Mohamed Ali Dini founded the IFTIN Foundation . This program trains and employs young people, offering them mental health support to overcome the trauma of war and reintegrate into society. This type of integrated approach — employment, health, and resilience — exemplifies how Africa can transform its young people into agents of reconstruction. Among these young people, girls are the ones who experience multiple forms of discrimination: limited access to education, child marriages, teenage pregnancies, and sexual abuse. According to UNICEF , more than one in eight girls in Sub-Saharan Africa has experienced a form of sexual abuse during childhood. And yet, young women are powerful agents of change. In Senegal, initiatives like Senegaleses in Tech or Jokalante train hundreds of young women in digital and coding professions. These often civil-society-led programs show that investing in women’s education and economic independence has a positive effect on society as a whole: higher incomes, reduced inequalities, improved health, and family stability.


Empowering young women is, therefore, a key sustainable development strategy. The African Development Bank’s (AfDB) projections indicate that Africa’s working population will increase from about 56 percent to 63 percent by 2050. If this transition is well managed, it could become a source of prosperity. But without massive investment in education, health, training, and formal employment, this advantage could become a disadvantage: a large but marginalized youth population. Some countries have shown the way. In Ethiopia, the Youth Revolving Fund has funded over 200,000 youth entrepreneurial projects since 2019. When built on a coherent national vision, these programs can sustainably reduce youth unemployment and rebuild social trust. Well-defined development priorities Various strategies are required to put this potential into force. The first step involves fundamentally reforming education systems to meet the current needs of local economies. The programs must include digital skills, green occupations, sustainable agriculture, craftsmanship, and small business management. Ensuring universal access to secondary education, especially for girls, requires targeted scholarships, appropriate infrastructure, and local education policies. Secondly, it is vital to create decent jobs that offer young people tangible prospects.


This means supporting entrepreneurship with accessible funding mechanisms, mentorship, and greater integration in local and regional markets. Governments and partners must also foster investments in growing sectors, such as technology, light industry, and renewable energy. Health and social protection are another indispensable asset. Youth policies must include reproductive health, mental health, and social security. Particular attention should also be paid to the protection of young women from violence and discrimination, which hinders their economic and social participation. Lastly, youth participation and leadership must be central to public action. Young people, and young women in particular, must be included in decision-making spaces on all levels: local, national, and regional. Fostering inclusive leadership, rooted in community realities, is a prerequisite for building resilient and equitable societies. I often think back on what I saw in Japan, an aging society that, paradoxically, values young people as a rare commodity. There, they want more young people, they look for them, train them, and listen to them. In Africa, we have the opposite, an abundance of young people who are rarely valued. We have the world’s greatest demographic treasure, and yet we don’t make it a priority.


Researchers in Africa are using AI to fill the global health care gap

In 2024, a 28-year-old maize farmer in Siaya County , western Kenya, walked into a small public clinic complaining of a fever. Ten years ago, he would have waited days — sometimes weeks — for a malaria, typhoid, or dengue diagnosis. In 2024, he received an answer in ninety seconds. A community health worker took a photo of a thick blood smear with an ordinary smartphone clipped to a USD 50 portable microscope. An artificial intelligence algorithm analyzed the image and suggested he had “Plasmodium falciparum ++” with 98.5 percent accuracy — better than most non-specialist lab technicians in the country. The farmer walked out with the correct antimalarial drug that same afternoon. That pilot, run by the Kenyan Ministry of Health with technical support from the startup Ubenytics, is now active in more than 420 facilities across eight counties. Early results of the pilot study published in The Lancet Digital Health in March 2025 show a 31 percent reduction in inappropriate antibiotic prescribing and a 19 percent drop in severe malaria complications in intervention areas. It is important to clarify terminology.


While the term artificial intelligence is commonly used in both academic and popular discourse, the systems discussed in this article are more precisely described as large language models. These models do not exhibit general intelligence; rather, they perform rapid statistical pattern recognition and probabilistic text generation based on vast amounts of training data. Where appropriate, this article uses the term LLMs to reflect this distinction, while acknowledging that AI remains the umbrella term under which such technologies are often categorized. Kenya is not an outlier Across West Africa, Ghanaian startup Chestify AI , founded in 2020, is using artificial intelligence algorithms to support clinicians in interpreting chest X-rays and other imaging in under-resourced health centers. They generate visual heat maps and abnormality scores that help flag conditions such as tuberculosis and pneumonia, accelerating diagnosis in places where radiologists are scarce. In deployments across 25 health facilities, Chestify has reported diagnostic turnaround times reduced by about 40 percent, with imaging reports delivered within 3 hours rather than days. Previous WHO-supervised validation studies of computer-aided detection for tuberculosis using chest radiographs have demonstrated consistently high performance in low-resource settings, with a pooled sensitivity of around 94.7 percent, often matching or exceeding the average diagnostic accuracy available where specialist radiology capacity is limited.


Rwanda’s drone-delivered blood program now uses routing algorithms, reducing the average delivery time from 42 minutes to 18 minutes in hard-to-reach districts. These are not future promises; they are documented, peer-reviewed deployments happening today. The numbers behind the urgency are well known but worth repeating: sub-Saharan Africa has 11 percent of the world’s population and 24 percent of the global disease burden , yet only 3 percent of the world’s health workers and less than 1 percent of global health expenditure. The specialist gap is even starker: Nigeria, for example, has roughly one pathologist per 500,000 people , compared with a global average of one per 25,000. Artificial intelligence will not magically conjure more doctors, but it is already making an impact in areas with underresourced medical systems. It upgrades the accuracy of non-specialist workers. In Uganda, Makerere University’s AI Health Lab and partners , including the Infectious Diseases Institute and NAAMII, are using AI-guided obstetric ultrasound tools that enable nonspecialists, including community health workers, to capture and interpret basic fetal images .


These programs are allowing healthcare workers to catch diseases earlier, when they are cheaper and easier to treat. In 2019, The Lancet published a clinical validation study of a deep learning model in a retinal screening program in Zambia, which showed excellent and earlier diagnostic performance for referable diabetic retinopathy, vision-threatening diabetic retinopathy, and diabetic macular oedema compared with human graders. None of this is theoretical. The cost curves are collapsing faster than most policymakers realize. In 2022, training and running a high-performing malaria microscopy LLM cost roughly USD 180,000 . By late 2025, the marginal cost per test in large-scale deployments is under USD 0.30 — cheaper than the current rapid diagnostic test in many places once distribution and cold-chain costs are included. The health implications for Africa First, regulation must keep pace. Kenya’s Pharmacy and Poisons Board and Nigeria’s National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control have both issued pragmatic guidelines for AI as a medical device in the past 18 months — a quiet but crucial step that many larger economies still struggle with. Second, local data must remain local where necessary.


The most accurate algorithms for sickle-cell disease, cervical cancer pre-screening, or paediatric pneumonia in African children are being trained on African data sets. Founders and governments that insist on data residency and local model ownership are building strategic assets, not just health tools. Third, financing models must shift from perpetual donor pilots to sustainable integration. Rwanda and Ghana are already bundling AI diagnostics into their national health insurance schemes. When a service is reimbursed at USD 1–2 per test instead of being grant-dependent, scale happens overnight. Risks and limitations of LLMS Despite the transformative potential of large language models in healthcare, their deployment is not without significant risks and limitations. One of the most widely discussed concerns is hallucination , where models generate confident but incorrect or fabricated outputs. In clinical or healthcare-adjacent settings, such errors can have serious consequences, including misinterpretation of medical information, inappropriate recommendations, or erosion of trust in clinical decision-making processes. LLMs are also highly dependent on the quality, scope, and representativeness of their training data. Biases embedded in historical healthcare data, such as underrepresentation of certain populations, can be learned and amplified by these systems, potentially leading to inequitable outcomes.


Additionally, LLMs lack true contextual understanding and clinical reasoning; they do not possess intent, awareness, or accountability, and therefore should not be relied upon as autonomous decision-makers. While large-scale, peer-reviewed evidence of widespread harm is still emerging, the consensus across the literature emphasizes the necessity of human oversight, rigorous validation, and domain-specific safeguards. LLMs are best positioned as decision-support tools rather than replacements for clinical expertise. Additionally, issues related to data privacy, security, and regulatory compliance remain unresolved in many implementations. Without robust governance frameworks, the integration of LLMs into healthcare systems risks violating patient confidentiality and existing ethical standards. However, these advances mean that, by 2030, a child born in a village outside Kisumu or Kumasi will not need to travel 200 kilometers (124 miles) to see whether a skin lesion is cancerous or whether a cough is tuberculosis. A trained community health worker, a USD 120 smartphone, and an LLM model continuously updated over 5G will provide an answer in minutes, not months. We are not waiting for some distant singularity. In parts of Africa, the future of healthcare has already started — quietly, incrementally, and at a speed that most global observers still underestimate.


Beyond boubou and wax prints: Africa Fashion Tour changes perceptions of African creativity

Although African fashion has long been reduced to wax prints , boubou (long, loose-fitting dresses), and handicrafts, another story is unfolding on this continent. African designers now dress global stars, like Michelle Obama, Rihanna, and Beyoncé. African brands have also won the LVMH ( Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton ) Prize, and the Dakar and Lagos Fashion Weeks are setting their own trends. Ramata Diallo , a Fashion Management graduate from Kedge Business School , has made it her mission to report on this thriving, creative Africa through her Africa Fashion Tour initiative, a media platform dedicated to the continent’s fashion professionals. A far cry from clichés, she talks more about the economic success stories, ethical and efficient models, and luxury know-how that rivals that of major international fashion houses. In an email interview with Global Voices, she explains how cultural visibility translates into economic viability, why African authenticity doesn’t need to adapt to Western markets, and how this continent may well become a leader in more sustainable and inclusive fashion.


Joel Hevi (JH): When travelling across the continent for the Africa Fashion Tour, what techniques or styling impressed you most? Why does it remain largely unknown internationally? Ramata Diallo (RD) : Mes voyages à travers les capitales de la mode en Afrique et mes interviews de professionnels de la mode m’ont permis de comprendre les spécificités des savoir-faire uniques du continent africain. Le caractère luxueux des tissus tels que le Leppi de Guinée ou le Kente du Ghana qui nécessitent plusieurs heures de travail manuel comptent parmis les éléments qui m’ont le plus marquée. Le relation particulière entre le créateur de mode et ses clients qui jouent à la fois le rôle de designer et de styliste est un autre élément qui place l’écosystème de la mode en Afrique dans le segment haut de gamme. Ramata Diallo (RD) : My trips to Africa’s fashion capitals and my interviews with fashion professionals helped me understand the specifics of the African continent’s unique know-how. The luxurious nature of fabrics like Guinea’s Leppi or Ghana’s Kente , which require several hours of handwork, is one of the features that impressed me most.


The special relationship between fashion designers and their clients, who serve as both designer and stylist, is another factor that puts Africa’s fashion ecosystem in the high-end category. JH: The image of African fashion is often limited to boubou and wax prints. Is it a conscious move on your part to look beyond these symbols? Do they still retain strategic value for the continent’s branding? RD : L’Afrique est composée de 54 pays et ne saurait être réduite au boubou, au wax et à la djellaba (longue robe ample répandue comme vêtement traditionnel au Maghreb). L’ambition du média Africa Fashion Tour est d’aller à la rencontre de ceux qui font la mode et de présenter leur travail. Le vestiaire de la femme africaine est multiple. Loin d’être uniforme, la mode africaine est tantôt traditionnelle, tantôt occidentale, tantôt hybride. Inclassable si on utilise une grille de lecture occidentale. Le consommateur de mode africain est volatile, son style évolue au gré des cérémonies. Tous les excès sont permis et chacun peut utiliser la mode comme moyen d’expression du plus classique au plus extravagant.


RD : Africa is made up of 54 countries and should not be limited to boubou, wax prints, and djellaba (a long, loose-fitting robe that is traditional attire in the Maghreb region). The Africa Fashion Tour media platform aims to reach out to those involved in fashion and showcase their work. African women’s wardrobes are diverse. Quite mixed, African fashion is sometimes traditional, sometimes Western, and sometimes a combination. It is unclassifiable when using a Western frame of reference. African fashion consumers are unpredictable; their style changes depending on the occasion. Anything goes, and everyone can use fashion as a means of expression, from the most classic to the most extravagant. JH: Storytelling is an integral part of your approach, especially through the articles and podcasts you publish on your platform. How do you choose the stories to showcase? What criteria do you use to tell these stories? RD : L’objectif du média est de donner la parole à des professionnels du secteur de la mode basé en Afrique afin de leur donner l'opportunité de raconter leur propre histoire.


L'idée est de raconter des success story africaines, de montrer à quel point les modèles économiques sont à la fois éthiques et performants, de sortir des clichés et des idées reçues pour montrer à quel point le business de la mode en Afrique est florissant. RD : The media platform’s objective is to make the voices of Africa-based fashion industry professionals heard, giving them the chance to tell their own stories. The aim is to tell African success stories, show how efficient and ethical the economic models can be, and look beyond clichés and misconceptions to illustrate how Africa’s fashion industry is thriving. JH: The fashion industry is also an economic arena . How do you see the link between cultural visibility and economic viability for African designers? Have you identified any particularly inspiring economic models ? RD : Les professionnels de la mode en Afrique ont parfaitement compris le jeu de l'influence et des collaborations. Récemment Ciara , artiste américaine a défilé à la Lagos Fashion Week pour la marque Fruche . Tongoro et Sisters of Afrika ont habillé Beyoncé une star internationale que l'on ne présente plus.


La visibilité des marques africaines sur les podiums et les médias internationaux est un enjeu majeur pour changer le regard sur la mode africaine et placer les designers du continent africain au même niveau que les autres. Cette visibilité sur les réseaux sociaux a un impact direct sur les commandes et la viabilité des marques. RD: Fashion professionals in Africa have perfectly understood the role of influence and collaborations. Recently, Ciara , an American music artist, walked the runway at the Lagos Fashion Week for the Nigerian brand Fruche . Tongoro and Sisters of Afrika have also dressed Beyoncé, an international star who needs no introduction. The visibility of African brands on catwalks and the international media is central to changing perceptions of African fashion and putting the continent’s designers on the same footing as others. Visibility on social media directly impacts orders and the brand’s viability. JH: The Western market values authenticity and handicrafts, but also requires difficult-to-meet production, delivery, and volume standards . How does Africa Fashion Tour help designers navigate this gap? Are there brands that have successfully found the perfect balance between their artisanal identity and the global market demands ?


RD : L'authenticité et le fait-main sont des valeurs totalement africaines. En 2025, la réussite du Pop up Africa now aux Galeries Lafayette a été une réussite. Il a réunit 15 créateurs sur un espace dédié pendant trois semaines. C'est un exemple concret de la capacité des professionnels de la mode la mode en Afrique à présenter des collections et atteindre les standards occidentaux. Le marché mondial est déréglé avec des acteurs qui produisent des quantités en masse qu’ils ne parviennent pas à vendre. Le temps est à la rationalisation et à la production de collections en éditions limitées, ce qui correspond totalement aux modes de fonctionnement des marques africaines. RD: Authenticity and handicrafts are quintessentially African values. In 2025, the Africa Now pop-up at Galeries Lafayette in Paris was a success. It brought together 15 designers in one dedicated space for three weeks. This is an excellent example of the African fashion professionals’ ability to showcase collections and meet Western standards. Those who produce mass quantities but fail to sell disrupt the global market.


The time has come to streamline and produce limited-edition collections, which aligns entirely with African brands’ way of working. JH: Aside from your platform, how could mass media change the perception of African fashion, especially on social networks and in visual productions like film and TV series ? RD : L’explosion de l’influence africaine au-delà des frontières du continent à travers Nollywood, Marodi TV ( une société de production de contenus audiovisuels), l’afrobeat notamment n’est plus à prouver. En 2025, la marque ghanéenne Boyedoe a été démi-finaliste du concours LVMH. Le succès de la Foire Akaa (Also Known As Africa) à Paris qui a fêté ses 10 ans en 2025 est une autre preuve de l’attrait grandissant pour les industries culturelles et créatives africaines qui ne se limitent pas à des likes sur les réseaux sociaux, mais se traduit concrètement par des films et des événements tels, que les fashion week à Dakar ou Lagos. RD: The success of the AKAA (Also Known As Africa) contemporary art and design fair in Paris, which marked its 10th anniversary in 2025, is further proof of the growing appeal of African creative and cultural industries.


This is not limited to likes on social media, but is reflected in films and events such as the Dakar and Lagos Fashion Weeks. JH: African fashion is often seen as an emerging industry or a source of inspiration for the rest of the world . Does the continent have the potential to become a true pillar of innovation and leadership, setting tomorrow’s global trends, especially in terms of durability and inclusion? RD : Sur le continent à travers les Fashion Week à Dakar, à Lagos, à Casablanca, la mode afrcaine a déjà ses propres tendances, ses propres codes et ne doit pas chercher à s’adapter à un marché occidental. Il y a un fort intéret pour les créateurs du continent et des consommateurs issus de la diaspora, du marché local et du reste du monde. RD : Through the Dakar, Lagos, and Casablanca Fashion Weeks, African fashion already has its own trends and codes on this continent, and must not try to adapt to the Western market. There is strong interest in the continent’s designers, with consumers in the diaspora, the local market, and the rest of the world.


Pitching power: Unpacking the T20 Cricket World Cup crisis between Bangladesh and India

The 2026 T20 Cricket World Cup , the biennial event organised by the International Cricket Council (ICC), is meant to celebrate cricket’s global reach, yet it has instead exposed the fault lines where sport, security, and statecraft collide with unwanted consequences. Bangladesh has refused to participate in matches scheduled on Indian soil due to security concerns and political tensions. However, the unfolding cricket crisis represents far more than a diplomatic standoff or a security dispute. The genesis of Bangladesh’s security concerns can’t be properly understood without examining the Mustafizur Rahman paradox that has stumped the cricketing world . When the Board of Control for Cricket in India ( BCCI) instructed the Kolkata Knight Riders to release the Bangladeshi pacer from their IPL 2026 squad due to security concerns, they inadvertently created a logical conundrum that Bangladeshi officials quickly seized upon. Namely, if India’s own cricket board felt unable to guarantee the security of a single Bangladeshi player during the IPL — a tournament played under controlled conditions with private security and limited public access — how could Bangladesh reasonably trust that adequate protection would be provided for an entire national team, their support staff, travelling journalists, and potentially thousands of supporters during a global tournament?


Indeed, the ICC’s own security assessment , leaked and subsequently confirmed, acknowledges what Bangladesh has been arguing all along. The independent risk assessment in January 2026 explicitly stated that while the threat to the Bangladesh team itself remains “moderate,” the risk to Bangladeshi nationals and supporters attending fixtures would be “moderate to high, particularly those wearing team colours and travelling in isolated groups to the stadium.” Furthermore, this assessment specifically noted that “the presence of Mustafizur Rahman may be problematic if religious extremism becomes kinetically engaged.” The report reveals a fundamental disconnect between bureaucratic risk management and lived security realities. When Sports Adviser Asif Nazrul stated that Bangladesh would not compromise “the security and dignity of its cricketers, spectators, and journalists,” he was not engaging in diplomatic theatre but rather articulating a government’s fundamental responsibility to protect its nationals. Moreover, the timing and context of these security concerns significantly enhance their legitimacy. Relations between Bangladesh and India have deteriorated precipitously since former Bangladesh Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina fled to India in August 2024, after a student-led uprising ousted the ruling Awami League Party.


Since then, diplomatic relations between the two countries have been marked by escalating tensions, mutual recriminations, and most significantly, violent incidents targeting Bangladeshi diplomatic facilities. When diplomatic barriers block the stands Perhaps the most overlooked dimension of this crisis involves the practical impossibility of Bangladeshi supporters actually attending the tournament, even if the security situation were resolved. Due to the ongoing diplomatic deadlock between the two states, the Indian government has implemented a strict visa restriction policy against Bangladesh, which effectively bars ordinary Bangladeshi citizens from obtaining Indian visas. While there has been speculation that players and support staff might be granted special diplomatic visas, Bangladeshi journalists and sponsors face insurmountable barriers. Read More: The hidden cost of India’s restriction on Bangladeshi visas What kind of “World Cup” excludes the supporters of a participating nation? How does one celebrate cricket’s global appeal while denying entry to fans based on their nationality? The spectre of mob violence The possibility of mob violence against Bangladeshi supporters, players, staff, and journalists is not speculative fear-mongering but a reasonable extrapolation from documented incidents of violence against Bangladeshi fans and rising anti-Bangladesh propaganda.


Across India, particularly in states like West Bengal that will host World Cup matches, anti-Bangladesh sentiment has intensified dramatically since Hasina’s ouster, fueled by accusations regarding the treatment of Hindu minorities in Bangladesh and amplified by political parties seeking electoral advantage. Indeed, the assessment’s specific mention of Mustafizur Rahman’s presence potentially triggering violence “ if religious extremism becomes kinetically engaged ” reveals how the sport has become a proxy for communal flashpoints. The phrase “kinetically engaged” is security jargon for actual violence, physical attacks that could range from verbal abuse to mob assault. The political calculations behind the crisis Perhaps the most cynical dimension of this crisis involves how both the Indian and Bangladeshi governments are weaponising cricket for domestic political advantage, particularly in the context of the 2026 West Bengal Legislative Assembly elections scheduled for March–April 2026. For India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which has been attempting to break into Bengal’s political space since 2014 under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, opposing Bangladesh has become an electoral goldmine .


What bigger card can there be at this moment than anti-Bangladesh rhetoric, framed as protection of Hindu minorities? If cricket and religion can be deployed as electoral instruments, particularly in Kolkata, then they are incentivised to manufacture and maintain this crisis. Simultaneously, with its own political pressures and incentives, Bangladesh’s interim government understands that anti-India rhetoric serves as its biggest political card . Taking a strong stand against India, refusing to compromise on World Cup participation, and publicly challenging the ICC’s security assessments all play well domestically, particularly among segments of Bangladeshi society. This creates a dangerous dynamic in which neither government has an incentive to de-escalate. Instead, both benefit from maintaining crisis conditions, from using cricket as a proxy battlefield for broader geopolitical tensions. How exiled politics shadows the tournament A particularly troubling dimension of this crisis involves the concentration of exiled Awami League leaders in Kolkata’s New Town area , the very city scheduled to host three of Bangladesh’s four group matches.


Approximately 2,000 former ministers and top and middle-rung leaders of the Awami League , which ruled Bangladesh from 2009 to 2024, joined by journalists, civil society activists, army officers, law enforcement officers, and diplomats who fled Bangladesh after the July revolution in August 2024, have established a de facto political base in New Town. This creates an explosive situation where Bangladesh’s national cricket team would be playing matches in a city that has become the operational headquarters for their government’s political enemies, leaders actively planning their return to power in Bangladesh. Would Awami League supporters, protected and hosted by Indian authorities, see Bangladesh’s cricket matches as opportunities for political demonstrations? In this context, Bangladesh’s security concerns about playing in India become inseparable from concerns about playing in a city that serves as a sanctuary for their political opponents . The weaponisation of sport Despite acknowledging moderate to high risks for Bangladeshi supporters in its own security assessment, the ICC has attempted to frame these concerns as manageable and has rejected Bangladesh’s interpretation of the assessment as a “complete lie.”


This denotes a deliberate dismissal of legitimate concerns to shield tournament scheduling and commercial interests. If Bangladesh, a full member of the ICC, can have its documented security concerns dismissed as political posturing, what recourse do smaller or less politically influential cricket nations have? The precedent being established here is perilous: that the ICC’s commitment to protecting players and supporters is conditional upon not disrupting tournament logistics or challenging powerful cricket boards like the BCCI. As Bangladesh remains firm in its stance that it will not travel to India for the T20 World Cup 2026, the crisis reveals a dangerous intersection of sport with politics. The ICC’s security assessment acknowledges risks but insists they are manageable. India offers security guarantees while simultaneously restricting visas for Bangladeshi supporters and failing to protect Bangladeshi diplomatic facilities in India. Both governments weaponise cricket for domestic political advantage while claiming to act in the sport’s interests. Bangladesh’s refusal to play is not political theatre or diplomatic posturing. Rather, it represents a principled stand that security concerns matter and that cricket’s integrity depends on separating sport from the weapons of statecraft.


Truth-telling and treaty: Australian Indigenous lawyer’s commitment to real change for First Nations People

Tekan Cochrane is an Australian Indigenous lawyer with Kooma, Yuwaalaraay and Torres Strait Islander heritage, as well as diverse European heritage. Raised on a farm in central Queensland, away from major population centres, and the first in her family to attend university, Tekan’s work is grounded in lived experience, community accountability, and a deep commitment to justice and systemic reform. In 2025, Tekan was a finalist for the Australian Human Rights Commission’s Law Award, selected from more than 100 national nominations and recognised for her work supporting First Nations peoples and individuals in disadvantaged and marginalised communities. Tekan is the Executive Officer of Tarwirri Indigenous Law Association of Victoria, a not-for-profit membership organisation representing Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander legal professionals, graduates and students. Tarwirri is funded through the Victorian Aboriginal Justice Agreement due to the strong need for more Indigenous lawyers in Australia.


Tekan is also the founder of TC Law & Consulting , a member of the Law Council of Australia’s Indigenous Legal Issues Committee , the Chair of the Law Institute of Victoria’s Reconciliation Advancement Committee and was formerly a Non-Executive Director of Women of Colour Australia . Previously, Tekan played a key role in the creation and management of the Victorian Stolen Generations Reparations Package , which acknowledges and addresses the trauma and harm caused by the forced removal of Aboriginal children from their families, culture and Country. Her work continues to focus on First Nations justice, truth-telling, and structural reform across legal, policy and governance systems. Tekan recently completed a Master’s in international relations, completing her dissertation on Indigenous peoples at a global level with a comparative study on Australia and Colombia. On January 18, 2026, Global Voices’ author Kevin Rennie interviewed Tekan about her work for First Nations justice. Kevin Rennie (KR): Given the tough-on-crime policies of Australian state governments, what can be done to reverse the growing trend of incarceration of Indigenous people in Australia, especially youth?


Tekan Cochrane (TC): In my view, the over-incarceration of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples is not a failure of individuals but a failure of systems. The ‘Tough on crime’ policies disproportionately criminalise poverty, trauma, disability and racialised policing, particularly for our young people. Reversing this ‘trend’ requires a decisive shift away from punitive approaches and toward prevention, properly resourced community-led diversion programs, culturally safe youth services, justice reinvestment, and genuine accountability for police and child protection agencies. Most importantly, solutions must be designed and led by First Nations communities themselves. However, we need governments fully on board. KR: We are living through a new “stolen” generation with many Indigenous children being forcibly removed from their families. What action can we take to stem this shocking trend? TC: The fact that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children continue to be removed at alarming rates should shame the nation. Despite decades of inquiries and apologies, we are repeating the same harms under different names. To sum this up, governments must invest in early family support, housing stability, and culturally appropriate child and family services, not crisis-driven removals.


The evidence is clear, when communities are trusted and resourced to care for their own children, outcomes improve dramatically. KR: The Victorian Aboriginal Justice Agreement has been around for nearly 20 years. What positive impact has it made on legal processes and outcomes for Aboriginal people? TC: The Victorian Aboriginal Justice Agreement has demonstrated that sustained partnership between government and Aboriginal communities can lead to real, measurable change. It has improved cultural safety in courts, increased Aboriginal participation in justice decision-making, and reduced some contact points with the criminal justice system. While gaps remain — particularly in incarceration rates — the Agreement shows that long-term, relationship-based reform is far more effective than short political cycles or punitive policy shifts. KR: In 2025, Victoria became the first State government to legislate a treaty with its First Nations peoples. How can it make a real difference for the lives of Indigenous peoples? TC: Victoria’s decision to legislate a Treaty framework is historic, but in reality, its value will be measured by outcomes, not symbolism.


Treaty has the potential to transform power relations by embedding self-determination, truth-telling and accountability into the fabric of the State. If implemented properly, Treaty can address structural inequities in areas such as land, health, education and justice and, critically, it can provide a mechanism for First Nations peoples to negotiate directly over matters that affect our lives. I personally have a very positive outlook on Treaty in Victoria. KR: Following the 2023 failure of the constitutional referendum to enshrine an Indigenous Voice to the Federal Parliament, how can we get national reconciliation back on track? TC: The failure of the referendum was painful, but it should not be mistaken for a rejection of justice or truth. Reconciliation cannot be contingent on a single vote. It must continue through State and Territory processes, Treaty, truth-telling, and legislative reform. National reconciliation will only move forward when governments stop seeking permission to do the right thing and instead act consistently with human rights standards and the wishes of First Nations peoples themselves. KR: What has been your involvement with the Women of Colour Australia organisation?


TC: My involvement with Women of Colour Australia has centered on amplifying the voices of women who sit at the intersections of race, gender and structural disadvantage. WoCA provides an important platform for advocacy, solidarity and leadership, particularly for women who are often marginalised within mainstream policy and professional spaces. That work aligns closely with my broader commitment to justice, equity and collective care. KR: With your busy professional life, how do you manage to maintain links to your Indigenous Country and culture? TC: Connection to Country and culture is not something I “fit in” around my work, it is what sustains it. Staying grounded in community, listening to Elders, honouring cultural obligations, and making time for reflection are essential acts of resistance in systems that often demand disconnection. For me, cultural continuity is both a responsibility and a source of strength. It reminds me of why this work matters and who it is ultimately for. KR: Finally, what advice do you have for young Indigenous people thinking of a career in the law?


TC: Law needs you, not for you to change who you are, but for you to bring your whole self into a system that has too often excluded our voices. The legal profession can be challenging and, at times, isolating for Indigenous peoples and those of minority backgrounds, but your lived experience, cultural knowledge and community connections are strengths, not weaknesses. I also strongly advise seeking mentors and stay connected to community, and don’t be afraid to take up space because we all belong in these rooms (the legal sector). I also advise young Indigenous people who are interested in a career in law to remember that law is a tool, you can use it in many ways, whether in advocacy, policy, community-controlled organisations, or the courts. Also, the most important piece of advice I can give is to look after yourself along the way. There is no single path, and success does not require sacrificing your culture or identity. Overall, be true to yourself!!


After COP30, climate projects continue to threaten Indonesia’s Indigenous communities

Indigenous peoples play an important role in the global climate agenda. At the 2025 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP30) in Belém, Brazil, their work as forest guardians and protectors of biodiversity was recognized. However, the situation in Indonesia is more complicated. Indigenous communities and their lands often face threats from government-backed climate projects that do not address the real problems. Mega-development projects such as the geothermal plant in Poco Leok, East Nusa Tenggara, the bioenergy project in Merauke, Papua, the dam construction in North Kalimantan, and the Lambo Reservoir in Nagekeo have all put Indigenous lands at risk. Indonesia is home to an estimated 50 to 70 million Indigenous people . There are over 2,000 groups, with 2,161 recognized Indigenous communities. Most of these communities live on Borneo Island, followed by Sulawesi and Sumatra. The Indonesian government has set a goal to recognize 1.4 million hectares of customary forests as part of its plan to reduce deforestation at COP30.


The Indigenous Peoples Alliance of the Archipelago ( AMAN ), which represents Indigenous communities across Indonesia, welcomed the announcement but said it is only a first step. The government has already received maps for 33.6 million hectares of customary territories, with more than half located in forest areas. Without real involvement from Indigenous communities and solutions to land disputes, recognizing customary forests could remain only a promise and a token political statement. AMAN secretary-general Rukka Sombolinggi said the number of forest areas should be expanded: The 1.4 million hectares targeted for 2029 should be seen as a flexible number, given the large potential of customary forests and the ongoing growth of regional policy initiatives. This means the area of customary forests that could be designated is much greater than 1.4 million hectares. As investments and national projects grow, and climate policies ignore human rights, Indigenous communities face land seizures, criminalization, and increased violence. The government has not improved its recognition or protection of indigenous peoples’ rights, and the situation worsened in 2025.


AMAN reported 135 cases of customary land being taken, resulting in the loss of 3.8 million hectares from 109 Indigenous communities. Besides losing land, 162 indigenous communities also experienced criminalization and violence. These problems are linked to forestry, mining, energy, large plantations, infrastructure projects, and the development of conservation areas and national parks. Sombolinggi added: In 2025, 38 million hectares of Indigenous land were taken. Over the previous decade, 11.7 million hectares were seized, averaging 1.1 million hectares per year. This year’s number is three times higher than the average. What we see is moral violence against Indigenous communities. Policies make it easier to take Indigenous land, and violence is becoming more common. Sadly, the government keeps denying this reality, and Indigenous people are being criminalized. AMAN notes that the government’s current policies could worsen and spread conflicts. For example, the Presidential Regulation on forest areas brings in security forces, leading to more militarization in Indigenous lands . This policy treats Indigenous communities as subjects to be controlled, which could lead to more repression under the excuse of order, development, or strategic projects.