I have spent the better part of my adult life reading other people’s accounts of who we are and how we got here. Textbooks written in London lecture us about “civilising missions.” IMF reports dress up economic mugging as “structural adjustment.” And, closer to home, our own elites recycle the same tired platitudes about development while ferrying their loot to offshore banks faster than you can say Vision 2030.
Enough.
Today I am launching TrueAfricanHistory.com which is a home for the inconvenient, un-white-washed, occasionally uncomfortable truths about this continent we call ours. If that sounds dramatic, good. Africa has enjoyed four centuries of other people’s narratives; the least we can do is interrupt the broadcast.
Why bother? Because the dragon has three heads—and every head tells lies
If you’ve read my rants on this very blog—about the three-headed dragon of Kenyan corruption, the deep state, and the global empire—you already know my thesis: power protects itself by bending language. It edits archives, misquotes speeches, buries testimonies, and then slaps a respectable ISBN on the silence. The result? Textbook heroes who never bled, freedom fighters who somehow forgot to fight, and colonial officers recast as kindly old uncles who only wanted to teach us how to farm.
True African History is my counter-punch. It is an archive-in-progress, a digital trench where primary sources, forgotten memoirs, declassified cables, and oral testimonies sit cheek-by-jowl with fresh analysis. No gatekeepers. No polite detours. And certainly no obligatory chapter praising “Africa’s partnership with [insert latest geopolitical suitor].”
What you can expect (and what you definitely won’t)
- Long-form essays that read like the love-child of Chinua Achebe and John le Carré—rich, literary, but armed with footnotes sharp enough to draw blood.
- Scanned letters, diary entries, and official telegrams—because nothing kills propaganda faster than the perpetrator’s own handwriting.
- Interactive timelines and maps (eventually) charting how a treaty signed in Berlin in 1884 still decides whether your passport queues on the Other Nationals line in Paris.
- Audio conversations with archivists and elders (eventually) who refuse to die with their stories locked inside them.
- Zero ads, zero clickbait, and zero tolerance for the tired “Africa-is-rising” cheerleading that papers over structural plunder with glossy GDP charts.
You will not find lifestyle fluff, listicles on “Top Ten Safari Destinations,” or sponsored content about the latest pyramid scheme “saving the village.” There are other corners of the internet for that.
How this ties back to everything I’ve written here
If this site is the kitchen where I rant, experiment, burn a few ideas, and occasionally serve half-baked bread, True African History is the dining hall where the real feast happens—course after meticulously sourced course. The tone remains unapologetic: blunt, a little irreverent, always impatient with mediocrity. But the stakes are higher. We’re not just venting about local politics; we’re erecting a public memory vault sturdy enough to outlive us.
What I need from you (yes, you)
- Read, then argue back. Bad history collapses under cross-examination; good history gets stronger. Leave comments, send corrections, challenge my sources. Iron sharpens iron.
- Share the pieces that punch you in the gut. Algorithms suppress what does not flatter power. Word-of-mouth is our cavalry.
- Send me leads. Do you have a great-grandfather’s field diary? A cassette tape of 1970s underground radio? An unpublished dissertation gathering dust because it refuses to toe the orthodox line? Bring it.
A final, uncomfortable question
What happens if we do nothing? If we leave the telling of African history to the same trans-Atlantic echo chamber that sold us empty modernity in exchange for rubber, gold, and souls? Spoiler: our children will inherit a continent rich in resources and poor in self-respect—forever stuck auditioning for a supporting role in someone else’s epic.
I refuse that future. True African History is my refusal in HTML form. Join me, or at least watch us make trouble.
See you on the other side.