This article considers assertions of the diminution of the monetary sovereignty of host states when they sign bilateral investment treaties. It discusses monetary transfer provisions in the model BITs of South Africa and Egypt and how their construction can affect states’ rights to regulatory autonomy in mitigating financial crises. This has become imperative in light of recent discussions on the possibilities for a systemic overhaul of BIT provisions, by pushing back against the diminution of host states’ sovereignty in order to respond to the force of globalization. Achieving this would require reform of existing model BITs to introduce appropriate exceptions in order to ensure policy space to protect the public interest.

This article argues that the community of self-described human rights NGOs that are indigenous to and operate in Nigeria have, over the last fourteen years or so, exerted a modest yet significant level of influence on the behaviour of both the executive and legislative branches of government in Nigeria. This influence has been exerted despite the harshness of military regimes that ruled that country for most of the relevant period. The factors that have facilitated the modest impact that these NGOs have had within Nigeria include their ability (at times) to work in coalitions; the highly innovative ends-means calculations made by NGO activists; their virtual alliance with a wing of the Nigerian judiciary and an important section of the mass media; their ability to creatively deploy international texts, processes and pressure within Nigeria; the deep cleavages within the Nigerian state and its elite that have led to a political culture that is much more amenable to negotiated settlements than is commonly acknowledged in the literature; and the unrelenting disposition, remarkable tenacity, and courage of most of the activists that run and operate these NGOs. The factors that have limited the extent of the success that these NGOs have so far enjoyed are conceptual and institutional in nature. The conceptual factors are their (albeit changing) tendency in this context to treat socio-economic, gender-related, minority, and environmental rights work as more marginal than civil/political rights activism; and their failure to pay any appreciable attention to the aspects of the local cultures and pre-existing languages of dignity that might advance their work among Nigeria's majority rural population. The institutional factors include their excessive fragmentation and proliferation; the de-institutionalization of most of their organizational forms and resort to personal rule; their donor-dependence and consequent failure to canvass the local population for funds and resources; and the elite and urban-centred orientation of most of these NGOs. Each of these factors has affected negatively their ability to mass mobilize and connect deeply with the yearnings of the masses of ordinary Nigerians.

On 27 April 2007 Eritrea notified the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) of its decision to “temporarily suspend its membership” and “freeze its activities” in IGAD followed on 25 July 2011 by its decision to “reactivate its membership.” On 24 August 2011 Eritrea's representative to the IGAD Council of Ministers meeting in Addis Ababa was informed that he could not sit in the meeting and was escorted out. Eritrea's representatives have not attended IGAD meetings since. The incident raises the important question of what should be done in the absence of an IGAD rule regulating unilateral temporary suspension and reactivation of membership. The answer should be based on a clear understanding of the laws and practices of withdrawal, suspension, expulsion, membership reactivation and rejoining international / regional organizations. This article discusses how the stalemate regarding Eritrea's status in IGAD should be handled by reference to such laws and practices, and the rules in the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties governing the interpretation of treaties.

The conflict in northern Uganda presents a unique study in comparing international, domestic and traditional responses to justice and stability amid prolonged conflict. This article explains the colonial and political background of the country and the emergence of the parties to the fighting, and describes the violations of international humanitarian and human rights law committed by all armed groups. It examines the various responses to these violations, focusing on Uganda's Amnesty Act, International Criminal Court indictments, the Juba peace talks, and traditional conflict resolution and reconciliation ceremonies, and explores how these mechanisms for negotiating peace and instilling justice are facilitating or interfering with each other. Overall, it attempts to discover how this interplay between international idealism, regional and national politics, cultural influences and logistical feasibility not only presents important lessons concerning the conflict in Uganda, but also reflects and informs false dichotomies in international criminal law and transitional justice.

On 17 May, 1995, the Malawi National Assembly adopted a democratic constitution. In terms of Malawi’s post-colonial history, the adoption of the constitution was an unprecedented event. For a period of 30 years, Malawi had been subjected to a one-party dictatorship led by Dr Hastings Banda. Supported over the years by the West because of its anti-communist rhetoric, the Banda regime found itself abandoned with the ending of the Cold War and the collapse of apartheid in South Africa. Pressure from internal and external groups led to a referendum on the oneparty state in June 1993 which the Banda regime lost and to the first multi-party elections in May 1994 which the regime also lost. A day before the 1994 elections, the Malawi National Assembly adopted a Provisional Constitution for a period of 12 months. Pursuant to section 212 of the Provisional Constitution, the National Constitutional Conference was held in February 1995 for the purpose of making recommendations to the National Assembly on a permanent constitution. Rather than replace or repeal the Provisional Constitution, the National Assembly decided in April 1995 to make modest amendments to it in order to address some of the more blatant deficiencies that were identified at the Constitutional Conference. During the coming years, the Law Commission will make a detailed study of the entire document, make recommendations to the Minister of Justice and, it is hoped, address some of the obvious drafting oversights.

The enactment of the Ombudsman Act, 1995, marks Botswana's belated, albeit welcome, membership of the world-wide movement to enhance governmental administration. The Act brings to fruition the deliberations of an international conference on the suitability of the Ombudsman institution in Botswana held in Gaborone in 1993. The need for such an institution to complement the country's democratic institutions was made clear at that conference by the then Minister for Presidential Affairs and Public Administration who was quoted as saying:

‘The wide acceptance of the Ombudsman institution and the fact that it has been incorporated in recent constitutional reforms in other countries requires that we in Botswana give serious consideration to it at this point in time.’

Multinational oil corporations (MNOCs) are a strategically important group of multinational corporations (MNCs). There are now many MNOCs operating in both the private and public sectors with remarkably diverse characters, strategies and objectives. Handling large budgets, revenue and capital, and complex advanced technology, they are responsible for exploration, crude oil production, refining, and distribution. These very capacities enable MNOCs to make a number of positive contributions to the economic growth and development of the developing oil-producing countries in which they operate. In that regard, MNOCs engage extensively in joint marketing operations with their host countries in various parts of the world, and foreign funds injected by MNOCs' operations relieve the shortage of financial capital and make greater production possible.

In the few “matrilineal” societies of Afikpo and Ohafia, women have full legal capacity to own land (insofar as land can be owned by anyone in these areas);.and to transmit their rights and interests to others either inter vivosor at death.3 The discussion which follows must, therefore, be understood as relating exclusively to the patri-lineal societies which in fact constitute the bulk of Iboland.

A nation's legal institutions must be established and maintained with a view not only toward administrative convenience, but also in accordance with the deep-rooted traditions of the people. Legal institutions superimposed upon a people without regard to their traditions and needs will never have the confidence of the people. Because of Ethiopia's status as an independent nation it has been possible for its legal institutions to be established and developed in accordance with the needs and desires of the Ethiopian people. A rich legal tradition, distinctly Ethiopian in character, has emerged. Ethiopia does not have the common law tradition, which was imposed upon nations of Africa that formerly were British colonies; it does not have that kind of civil law tradition that was imposed upon nations of Africa that formerly were colonies of continental states. The significance of law in Ethiopia and the importance of justice to the Ethiopian people have long been recognized by many scholars.1

“Reservations about any concept do not automatically discredit it but allow for healthy and open debate to take place… the discussions that can arise from any such criticism, constructive or otherwise, can often lead to a greater awareness of the values of the system and ways in which it can be strengthened and made more effective in the interests of the general public.”

This article critically examines the controversies surrounding the law and practice of customary arbitration in Nigeria against the background of the decision of the Nigerian Supreme Court in Agu v. Ikewibe. The case law on customary arbitration is briefly reviewed with a view to demonstrating that prior to the Agu case, there existed a divergence of opinion among judges on some fundamental principles of the law and practice of customary arbitration in Nigeria, particularly with respect to the right of the parties to withdraw at any stage of the arbitration proceedings or even after the award is rendered. The article disagrees with the views of some judges and learned scholars that theres no distinction between customary arbitration and other consensus-oriented dispute resolution methods such as negotiation and conciliation. In disagreeing with these views, it is argued that in distinguishing customary arbitration from negotiation or conciliaion, the nature of the decision-making process should be of paramount consideration. It will further be argued that the binding nature or enforcement of the decisions of a judicial or quasi-judicial body differs from society to society. These enforcement mechanisms should not be divorced from the social relationships existing in a particular society. In conclusion, the article endorces the decision of the Supreme Court in Agu v. Ikewibe as the correct restatement of the law and practice of customary arbitration in Nigeria.

Prior to 1969 the legal system of Botswana enjoyed the characteristics of the dual existence of customary and common law (and the courts in which they were administered) typical of most of Anglophone Africa. The common or general law was the Roman-Dutch law “received” from the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope and this was the only law to be applied in the ordinary courts (High Court and Subordinate Courts) in the exercise of their original jurisdiction. Customary law was the preserve of the customary courts. Three main questions were inherent in the working of this system:

(1) How was it to be determined which system of law (and, therefore, which system of courts) was appropriate for deciding a particular case?

(2) If it was decided that customary law was to be applied, which system of customary law was appropriate?

(3) Again, if customary law was to be applied, how were its rules to be ascertained in the courts?

The Customary Law (Application and Ascertainment) Act of 1969 appended to this article, introduced far-reaching changes in the administration of the dual legal system and in particular contained for the first time statutory answers to the questions posed above.

What is the connection between international law and economic development? The answer will very likely be different according to whether the question is asked in a developed country or in one of the 120 less-developed countries. Consequently the answer can only be found in international law itself.

Criticism has been levelled against the International Law Commission on the ground that its work only deals with the traditional topics which constitute the core of international law. Such criticism implies that the Commission has failed to perceive the need for developing international law adequately to encompass new areas.

Of course this assertion could be disputed. However, the General Secretary of the United Nations, in a Survey of International Law published in April, 1971, clearly points to a number of newly emerging areas of concern, including the law relating to economic development which comprises the following headings:

1. international legal rules and measures concerning regulation and coordination of the economic activities of states;

2. international trade;

3. economic and technical assistance.

In order to assess the full implication of this question, it should be appreciated that the activities of the U.N. and of a growing number of international economic institutions are now devoted increasingly to development. The numerous relevant publications issued especially, but not only, by Third World lawyers show how this matter is becoming of fundamental importance. Indeed, there can be little doubt that Foreign Office legal advisers would readily admit that much of their daily work involves questions of international economic law. Nevertheless, if one looks at the role allocated to this subject by what may loosely be called the established international law, one must recognise that this is, indeed, a very modest role.

In a general survey of Tswana culture, written for the International African Institute twenty-five years ago, I summarized as follows the main features of the bogadi (bridewealth) system:

West Africa is a vast area consisting of many territories; of those five have come under the influence of the English law; four of these are within the Commonwealth, one is outside it. The four Commonwealth West African countries are: Gambia, Sierra Leone (which is to become independent early next year), the Republic of Ghana, and the Federation of Nigeria (which attained its independence on 1st October, 1960); the one non-Commonwealth country is the Republic of Liberia, the oldest independent state in West Africa.

This article explores the extent to which the right to basic education of learners with disabilities in South Africa was guaranteed during the COVID-19 pandemic. It uses the Centre for Child Law v Minister of Basic Education (Centre for Child Law) as the main canvas for discussion. It argues that, notwithstanding its normative compliance with the international regime of the right to an inclusive basic education, the government has failed learners with disabilities during COVID-19. An examination of Centre for Child Law reveals that, not only did the government's directions for the phased return to school exclude learners with disabilities, they also required the closure of special schools where compliance with social distancing rules was impossible. This violated the right to inclusive education and substantive equality of learners with disabilities and highlighted the need to advance these rights through reasonable accommodation initiatives.

Immunity is an exemption conferred on a person in order to protect him from litigation or persecution. The Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999 as amended accords immunity to the president, vice-president, governors and deputy governors only. The import of this constitutional conferment is that no civil or criminal proceedings should be instituted against them while in office. This singular feature of the immunity clause emphasizes the functional necessity of the immunity which the constitution canvasses for these political office holders. A trial relating to any crime committed by any of them can commence after their tenure in office expires. This raises the issues that evidence against them might have been destroyed, prosecution witnesses may die before the trial commences and changes in the law can enable them to evade justice.

The constitutional and political negotiations in South Africa have reached an advanced stage and elections for a government of national unity might take place within the next twelve months. For the millions of South Africans who have waited, fought, sacrificed and suffered the end appears to be in sight. While they will have every right to celebrate the results of their hard-fought battles to achieve a democratic and just society, they equally have a solemn duty to ensure that they proceed to build the future on a solid base, not only to guarantee the protection of democracy and justice but more importantly to ensure that no other South African is ever again the victim of the types of human rights abuses that have for the past decades become synonymous with the country. There will only be one opportunity to rebuild the nation. If it fails it will be a great disservice to South Africa's countrymen and women and to the generations that will follow. Even as a South African one has difficulty in fully comprehending the enormity of the social and human destruction caused in the name of apartheid. It has brutalized and dispossessed its people; robbed children of their youth and their innocence; widowed and orphaned thousands and destroyed the dreams and hopes of decent men and women. The 18 million people gaoled in terms of the pass laws and the 15.5 million people uprooted by forced removals bear testimony to the brutality and savagery with which apartheid was applied. The legacy of those policies will remain for many years to come.

Section 24 of the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, Act 108 of 1996, provides:

“Everyone has the right

(a) to an environment that is not harmful to their health or well-being; and

(b) to have the environment protected, for the benefit of present and future generations, through reasonable legislative and other measures that

(i) prevent pollution and ecological degradation;

(ii) promote conservation; and

(iii) secure ecologically sustainable development and use of natural resources while promoting justifiable economic and social development.”

The South African Supreme Court of Appeal and Constitutional Court have ruled that the employer is vicariously liable for sexual violence perpetrated by his employee on a co-employee or on a third party in the workplace or in what can be considered as an extension of the workplace. This is similar to the current position in the United Kingdom. This article questions the rationale of holding employers vicariously liable for intentional acts of employees such as sexual harassment. In a bid to justify their position, these courts have adopted a sort of vicarious liability with no outer limit that is both needless and tortuous. This article submits that the law imposes a duty on employers to protect their employees and that this unwarranted development of vicarious liability could be avoided if due regard is given to the prescribed direct (and strict) liability of the employer.