Dangote’s ‘Africa by Africans’ Must Include the Diaspora. Here’s why !

By Clyde Salumu Sharady | Editor

In a recent BBC Africa interview, Aliko Dangote returned to a theme that has become both a rallying cry and a challenge: Africa’s future must be forged, financed and built by Africans.

He is right. But the statement invites a question that is often left hanging: which Africans?

Dangote’s core argument is difficult to dispute. A continent that exports raw materials and imports finished goods is not industrialising; it is subsidising other people’s factories. Processing what Africa mines and grows — whether in energy, agriculture, manufacturing or fertiliser — is not economic nationalism for its own sake. It is the difference between selling a job and keeping it.

His emphasis on people’s welfare also matters. Refineries, cement plants and fertiliser complexes are not ends in themselves. They are means to jobs, dignity and a broader tax base. A continent with millions of young people entering the labour market every year cannot afford to treat industrialisation as an abstract policy debate.

Alhadji Dangote being interviewed by BBC

But Dangote’s vision deserves interrogation, not just applause.

First, his own story is exceptional. Very few Africans can build a refinery or a continental cement empire. The lesson is not that everyone should try to become Dangote. The lesson is that Africa needs many more people — at different scales — to build productive enterprises. That requires capital, skills, infrastructure, predictable policies and access to markets. One man’s success is not a substitute for an industrial ecosystem.

Second, “Africa by Africans” should not be read narrowly. It cannot mean only Africans on the continent, or only the wealthy, or only those in government. It must include the African diaspora: the engineers in Toronto, the nurses in London, the investors in New York, the coders in Berlin, the entrepreneurs in Dubai, the academics in Johannesburg and the traders in Guangzhou. They are not outsiders looking in. They are part of the African story.

And they are underused.

Remittances to Africa are estimated in the tens of billions of dollars annually. That money keeps families fed, children in school and hospitals running. It is a lifeline. But most of it is consumed, not invested. If even a fraction were channelled into productive ventures — through diaspora bonds, investment clubs, angel funds, venture capital or co-investment with local firms — the impact could be transformative.

The diaspora can also transfer something more valuable than money: knowledge. Africa does not only need capital. It needs engineers, project managers, accountants, lawyers, doctors, teachers, data scientists and supply-chain experts. Many diaspora professionals cannot or do not want to return permanently. But they can mentor remotely, serve on boards, take short-term assignments, train local teams and help build institutions. This is not brain drain. It is brain circulation.

They can open markets, too. Diaspora entrepreneurs often understand both the African context and the global economy. They can connect African producers to international buyers, help firms meet standards and certification requirements, and introduce local startups to global investors. That bridge — between local production and global demand — is one of the diaspora’s greatest advantages.

They can also start and partner with businesses at home. Not every diaspora investment needs to be a factory. A logistics company, a fintech platform, a diagnostics lab, a food-processing plant, a renewable-energy project or a creative-industry venture can all create jobs and build skills. The key is partnership: diaspora capital and know-how joined with local knowledge, labour and networks.

But let us not romanticise the diaspora.

Diaspora Africans are not automatically patient investors, ethical entrepreneurs or effective reformers. Distance can breed nostalgia and distortion. Some diaspora projects fail because they are run from abroad without real local ownership. Some diaspora money is as extractive as any other. Some diaspora professionals are out of touch with the daily realities of doing business at home. And some African governments treat the diaspora as an ATM — useful for remittances, ignored on policy.

That must change on both sides.

African governments need to make it easier for diaspora professionals and entrepreneurs to contribute meaningfully: dual citizenship, land rights, repatriation of capital, transparent procurement, predictable taxation and protection from arbitrary bureaucratic harassment. They need to stop seeing the diaspora as a sentimental fundraising pool and start seeing it as a strategic economic partner.

The diaspora, in turn, must show up with more than nostalgia and WhatsApp groups. It must invest, mentor, advocate, build and hold itself to high standards. It must partner with local entrepreneurs rather than lecture them. It must be willing to take risks — but also to be accountable.

Dangote is right that Africa’s economic liberation is a collective responsibility. But collective responsibility does not mean waiting for a billionaire, a president or a foreign investor. It means every African — at home and abroad — asking what they can build, finance, teach, connect or reform.

The diaspora cannot save Africa alone. But Africa cannot industrialise at the speed it needs without the diaspora.

If “Africa by Africans” is to mean anything, it must include all of us. Not as spectators. Not as cheerleaders. Not as remittance machines. As co-builders.

That is the harder, more honest version of Dangote’s vision. And it is the one worth acting on.