The establishment of marketing boards in British West Africa in the 1940s was heralded at the time as a drastic, perhaps revolutionary change in the produce trade. The political implications were undoubtedly great: public enterprise (the marketing boards) had replaced private enterprise (a number of trading companies), and the ongoing debate on their relative merits made a colourful excursion to West Africa in the 1950s because this region offered a clear-cut case for comparison.1 The differences between the organisations were thus inevitably highlighted.

Ever since the establishment of the Union of South Africa in 1910, Jan Smuts, one of its principal architects, had visions of transforming it into a ‘Greater South Africa’,. The South Africa Act of 1909 which established the Union provided for the eventual incorporation of other African Territories. It madespecific reference to Southern Rhodesia and the neighbouring British dependencies of Basutoland, the Bechuanaland Protectorate, and Swaziland, Known collectively as a High Commission Terretories because, pending transfer to the Union, they were admitted by the British High Commissioner to South Africa.

In March 1985 the Second National Women's Rights Conference was held on the Copperbelt. Although Betty Kaunda, wife of the President, addressed the 135 participants in her opening speech as if they were representing the Women's League of the United National Independence Party (U.N.I.P.), surprisingly only two of them, apart from the invited guests of honour, claimed to be associated with this organisation. Hardly any of the issues raised by the League entered the discussions during the three-day conference, and the recommendations were far form being a reflection of its stated aims.1

There is a little-known machinery-producing sector in Kenya that not only continues to survive but even to prosper, at least in pockets, albeit not impervious to the enumerable constraints which dog the local market. The success stories are few, however. It would indeed be surprising if this were otherwise, considering the nature of the overall economy, since industrialisation is constrained not only by the obvious limits of domestic demand, but also by the official preference given to the development of traditional exports, which has meant that the intensity of the industrialisation drive has been weakened by progressive reliance on the foreign-exchange earnings of cash crops.1 This increasing dependence is ironic in view of the fact that the stimulus for this kind of industrialisation is often precisely to diversify the economy away from the reliance on traditional primary exports.2

Amílcar Cabral was perhaps the foremost political thinker to emerge out of the many independence movements of post-World War II Africa. His insightful theory of class struggle in the continent, his informative analysis of the history of Guinea-Bissau, his original concept of ‘class suicide’, and his notion of the relationship between national liberation and culture,1 helped convince many scholars of the viability of a class and ideological approach to the study of African politics.2

There are fads in development economics,1 and the latest today, at least in the North, is what may be called laissez-faireism. This states the belief that a retreat from government activism in economic affairs is the major means of improving the quality of a country's performance. It is seen as ‘central to the solution of a lot of the problems we see around the world’.2

Such a strategy stresses the benefits of reliance on markets, on profit incentives, and on the growth of private sectors. Free-market pricing is crucial not only for products (in Africa, particularly agricultural products), but also in factor markets and in international transactions. Wages should be allowed to find their own level, as determined by supply and demand. Exchange rates should also be permitted to approach their natyral levels, for artificially over-valued exchange rates are especially damaging. Tariffs and other forms of protection should be cut back. Countries should turn away from inward-looking import-substitution towards outward-looking export-orientation. 3

There is continuing concern throughout most of Africa about the supply of food, notably because of its impact on the nutritional status of so many millions.2 In 1984, John Mellor and Bruce Johnston reported on trends in production and indicated that Africa had the slowest food growth rates in comparison with other country groupings throughout the world. They also acknowledged the extent of malnutrition and the complex system of interactions which influence food production and consumption.3 Earlier reviews of the food-deficit problems called attention to environmental constraints and the variety of experimental strategies for agricultural development tried in Africa. Michael Lofchie and Stephen Commins concluded that fundamental changes in governmental policies are needed in order to facilitate peasant production and participation, and they suggested a balance between the retention of traditional agricultural systems and the introduction of modern agricultural practices.4 Carl Eicher emphasised the need for intensive investigation into production constraints in order to provide the knowledge base for better strategies and programmes, and among the research priorities identified were those related to food consumption and nutrition.5 However, although more national macro-level surveys are obviously needed, they alone will not help us to understand the relationships between household-based food production and consumption systems, nor the rôle of the family in allocating labour and food.

Most writers on Zambia are agreed that President Kenneth Kaunda has grown more powerful over the last two decades by having learned to deal with changing circumstances, and that he has developed a unique position as an able and trusted mediator among political factions. There is also a consensus among those authors, however, that Kaunda's powers are rather severely constrained by the bourgeoisie-in-formation, by the weakening of the governing United National Independence Party (U.N.I.P.), by a declining economy, and by a difficult international environment, and that these limitations are growing stronger as time passes despite his ideological initiative in formulating what is known as ‘Zambian Humanism’.1

During World War II, some 65,000 Ghanaians were under the command of British officers in the Royal West African Frontier Force, and since India was the transit and refuelling station for those en route to Burma, the 30,000 who served there briefly experienced life in both countries. There has been much conjecture about the impact of the war on participating African soldiers,1 and this article focuses on the nature and socio-economic implications of their experience as later revealed by the veterans themselves in two rather overlooked sources of information: oral interviews and locally published materials.

This short article was written in June 1972 as an attempt to provide an eye-witness account of the Busia Government and its difficulties, and is published now as a contribution to the continuing discussion about the reasons for that régime's collapse. Professor Le Vine was Head of the Department of Political Science at the University of Ghana, Legon, during 1969–71, and is the author of Political Corruption, the Ghana Case (Stanford, 1975), a study of the Nkrumah period.

‘Autopsy’ is, perhaps, too harsh a word; possibly ‘requiem’ would have been more appropriate. Unfortunately, however, save for the members of the Government displaced by the coup d'état of 13 January 1972, the régime of Dr Kofi A. Busia had few mourners in Ghana. Most Ghanaians appear to have shaken their heads, gone about their usual business, and awaited the future with cynical patience. As coups go, Colonel Ignatius Acheampong's exercise was a model of quiet efficiency – it met virtually no resistance, took no casyalties, and had almost no noticeable effect on the ordinary bustle of life and affairs in the capital cuty. The ensuing celebrations were perfunctory, and what dancing in the streets there was seemed to be half-hearted at best.