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Beyond Storytelling: Why African Philanthropy needs more than narratives

BA

Bweme Antonio

June 4, 20266 min read
Beyond Storytelling: Why African Philanthropy needs more than narratives

More times than we can count, storytellers remind us that, “until the lion learns to write, every story will glorify the hunter.” Picture a world with me, where no matter how many lions learn to write, the interpretations are privy to the hunters only. Would we then say, the lions must learn more, than to write?

At the centre of African philanthropy and interwoven in the fabric of what defines the philosophy of giving across the continent, is community. Needless to say, African heritage is imbued with a diversity of words, forms and structures (albeit informal) of generosity. Numerous scholars and institutions have attempted to capture these expressions of generosity across the philanthropy sector. Most recently, Trust Africa and Giving Tuesday Africa Hub have done well to highlight a few of these, delineating generosity practices among different African cultures.

Is the narrative around our African traditions of giving enough to stir up the much needed systems shift? Are these stories replicated in the way through which programs or initiatives by philanthropists or philanthropy support organisations are envisioned, or is it just another way for us to sooth the hunter as we wait for more lions to learn to write?

The advancement of cultural wisdom as a tool for social change must start from a place of introspection on how these stories and traditions inform systems change, foster an enabling environment for local philanthropy to emerge or maybe, even create a platform for stakeholders to revisit their approaches to African philanthropy.

Our Heritage: The power of the African story

Told over and over again, the story of Africa often begins in the pre-colonial era. A picture of self-governing communities, rich in traditional practices and connected by customs and belief systems that shaped how societies organised, related, and gave. Within these histories lies not only identity, but also a quiet archive filled with forms of giving embedded in kinship, reciprocity, and collective responsibility. These narratives carry echoes of possibility, inviting reflection on the roots of what might be called true African generosity.

Yet, history does not stand still. The colonial period marked more than a disruption in governance. It introduced new systems of value, new hierarchies of knowledge, and ultimately, new ways of being. African communities were not only compelled to adapt their practices but also to reinterpret themselves through imposed frameworks. In this shift, indigenous expressions of giving were neither erased nor fully preserved, one would argue that they were reframed.

Enter philanthropy often defined as the love for humanity. But within the African context, the term resists easy categorisation. Is it a lifestyle long practiced under different names? An experience shaped by community and obligation? An emerging sector seeking structure and recognition? Or perhaps an opportunity to reclaim and retell our story on our own terms? Regardless of the lens, one undeniable truth that remains is the depth and richness of culture-based giving across the continent. It is this very richness that makes any true African uncomfortable when dominant narratives reduce Africa to a landscape of need with images of helplessness crafted to appeal to external benefactors. In such moments, one must ask who gets to tell the story, the lion or the hunter?

And so, a more pressing question emerges. Now that we recognise these diverse and deeply rooted forms of giving, what do we do with them? Is acknowledgement enough? Can African generosity remain a well-kept truth celebrated in rhetoric yet absent in systems of power and resource allocation? Or does this moment demand something more deliberate? A reimagining of how these practices are seen, valued, and mobilised?

Visibility, Transformation or Both?

“Words are sweet, but they never take the place of food.” - Igbo proverb

Been to an African Philanthropy convening before? What is the first thought that crosses your mind when you are considering which session to attend? As your eyes run down the detailed agenda and you encounter a session; The true essence of African Philanthropy? Does the familiarity energise you or does it dull your enthusiasm? If you are like me, I am always excited to jump into these sessions and learn what new directions could be emerging for the sector on the continent. Well, the story is always the same, a tale of our endless forms of giving, no ignition on how these could translate to action.

A good moment to pause and re-centre the purpose of this conversation. Stories of our generosity are not without cause. An understanding of our giving traditions not only spotlights our diversity and wealth as a continent but also breaks the stereotypes that have for a long time been used to shape the narratives of giving. These re-centered narratives give voice to the values that are espoused in many traditions. However, have lions been lost in the destructive nature of their recently acquired skillset unaware that the hunter has since advanced?

Listening to the many thought leaders across the continent, the call to action is clear. The task for philanthropy and generally non-profits, is to move beyond aid and more proactively engage in new forms of domestic resource mobilisation or risk being swallowed up by the loose and sinking sands of the funding architecture and the ever shifting needs of those who call the shots. Is this not the perfect time to look inward and leverage the tools within the toolbox? Or have we carried stones to a gun fight?

Beyond the visibility that comes with our ability to build narratives, we must task ourselves to think more succinctly on what transformation, growth and systems change actually look like from the lens of African traditions. To focus deeply on what frameworks, patterns or policies these traditions could inform and to present ourselves as guinea pigs to the very narratives we preach. Critically, the baby must not be let go with the bath water. We must celebrate our heritage while tasking ourselves to look more intently to the future we collectively seek to create for philanthropy on the continent.

Beyond feeling: The work empathy cannot do

One who feels the heat will seek shade - Ankole proverb

If you have had the enviable privilege of sitting around a fireplace, listening to custodians of African history weave story into memory, you will know that these moments ask more of you than passive attention. The narrator draws you in, closer to the heat, closer to the truths they share, until the distance between listener and subject begins to collapse. In that space, stories do not simply inform, they make one feel. If you’ve experienced these as I have, you begin to sense the weight of lived experience, to glimpse realities that are not your own. And yet, as compelling as that feeling is, it remains only a beginning. To feel the heat is one thing but to build the shade it demands is quite another.

Sooner than later the tension begins to surface. The short-lived feeling though overwhelming can be fleeting. Stories, especially those crafted for visibility, tend to distil vast, complex realities into moments that can be quickly understood and easily shared. In doing so, they risk narrowing our gaze and privileging the individual ideas over the structural approaches, the moments over the larger picture. We come away moved, even changed in sentiment, but not necessarily in understanding. Empathy, in this sense, can create the illusion of proximity without demanding the work of deeper engagement.

The risk for African philanthropy is this easily translates into narratives that satisfy the need to care without unsettling the systems that require change. The story is heard, the emotion registered, and yet the underlying structures remain intact. What begins as connection risks settling into performance. If storytelling is to do more than move us, it must compel us beyond this resting point toward forms of responsibility that outlast the moment of feeling and begin to reshape the conditions from which these stories emerge.

No longer at Ease

When Obi returns, he carries with him not just an education from a foreign land but a quiet shift of self, one that distances him from the very traditions that once shaped his childhood dreams. In his book, No Longer at Ease, Chinua Achebe presents a character suspended between worlds, where Westernisation has not elevated him as much as it has estranged him. Obi’s aspirations, once rooted in communal values and collective progress, become entangled in individual ambition, bureaucratic pressures, and moral compromise. This story not only presents a reflection on personal failure, but about the subtle erosion of indigenous frameworks of meaning, where the promise of modernity displaces rather than complements tradition.

This tension mirrors the evolving landscape of African philanthropy. It is not simply a regional variant of global philanthropy, it is distinct, shaped by rich histories of tradition and community, oneness, and countless forms of giving. Yet, as African philanthropy increasingly engages with global systems, standards, and expectations, it cannot afford to simply remain on the side-lines critiquing the rules of the game. Participation demands adaptation. To stand on the pitch and complain is to concede relevance. The challenge, then, is to engage without erasure, to assert identity while navigating influence.

The task for African philanthropy enthusiasts, like myself, is therefore both reflective and active. We must draw deeply from the continent’s wealth of philanthropy networks and organisations, lived experiences, and indigenous knowledge systems not as objects of a fading past, but as captains of a much-needed future. However, reflection alone doesn’t suffice, the imperative is to shape narratives and design interventions that are authentically African yet globally conversant. In doing so, we move beyond lamentation into agency reclaiming the space to define not just how we give, but why.

Until the lion learns to write, read, think and act on those very thoughts, every story will glorify the hunter.

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About the Author

BA

Bweme Antonio

Bweme Antonio is a philanthropy and ecosystem-building professional with experience advancing collaborative initiatives across Africa and globally. Most recently, he served as Regional Coordinator for Africa at WINGS, where he led efforts to strengthen the continent’s philanthropy support ecosystem and deepen cross-regional collaboration. He has a strong track record in convening diverse stakeholders, amplifying African perspectives in global spaces, and translating partnerships into actionable, locally grounded solutions. Bweme is particularly committed to fostering knowledge exchange and positioning African philanthropy as a catalyst for sustainable development and systemic change.