by the We Will Lead Africa Founders
Image by Margarita Kochneva from Pixabay.
Dear Everyday African Leader,
In a recent conversation, we talked about you. About who you are, what you do, and the impact you make, even when you don’t carry the traditional titles of leadership. We talked about how, in many ways, the leadership that shapes our communities the most is often the kind that goes unnoticed—the leadership of the everyday African who sees a need and moves to meet it, not waiting for permission or position.
Too often, leadership is framed within rigid hierarchies, reserved for those with titles, platforms, or access. Yet, we know that the real work of transformation frequently happens outside those formal structures. It happens in the hands of market women who keep economies alive, in the quiet resolve of teachers who nurture the next generation, in the resilience of community organisers who create change without fanfare. It happens in everyday choices, in the courage to act, and in the commitment to something bigger than oneself.
This is why we embrace the idea of the everyday African leader—not just as a concept, but as a call to action. ‘Leadership is something that you can do from wherever you are and from whatever position you hold … leadership is more about what you do with where you are as opposed to something that is imposed on you or given to you.’ It is not about waiting to be called a leader—it is about leading from where you are, with what you have.
We also spoke about something else: Africanness. What does it mean to be African? Who gets to claim it? Is it the accident of birth? Is it a document issued by a government? Or is it something deeper—something lived, something claimed or remembered, something carried that one owns with intention? In our conversation, we were reminded of the time one of us was facilitating a critical conversation with leaders in South Africa. It felt vulnerable to be a Black/African woman, whom those in the room described and saw as being from ‘the rest of Africa’, holding that conversation and space. By the end of a highly emotional day-long dialogue, one of the South African men walked over and said, ‘Thank you for not making yourself a stranger.’
To us, this moment of ignoring the cues of insider-outsider or outsider-within status—and all the narratives wrapped up in the colonial onion peels of the racial, tribal, and national fault lines that make African identities complex—to do critical work that matters, is what Africanness means. It is where our African identity intersects with our everyday leadership, so we can lead, whether we are leading an idea, leading a family, or serving a community. It is the epitome of standing, owning, and choosing our African lineage, heritage, location, or identity, without apology or deference to those who may deem it their role to include or exclude us, in order to serve her. It means letting go of the gremlin that asks those who were born or have lived most of their lives globally in the diaspora, or urban Africans or those who have acquired markers of Western acceptability, ‘Are you really African?’
Africa needs all of us.
There is power in choosing not to be a stranger to Africa, no matter where you are in the world, no matter what histories have shaped your path. It is a power that defies borders drawn by others, that resists exclusionary and reductive definitions of identity, that reclaims connection where division once stood. When we allow ourselves to construct identity, and in this case Africanness, in a more multifaceted, kaleidoscopic way, it broadens us up to so much more.
And yet, we also know that the narratives of leadership and Africanness are usually shaped by those with the loudest voices, the greatest access. These are often the ‘changemakers’ who fill conference stages but have little time for the real, messy, on-the-ground work of change. On the other hand, everyday leaders are busy doing, organising, overcoming hurdle after hurdle to make an impact for progress on the African continent and/or for Black/African peoples. But by virtue of the fact that they’re doing that, we’ve found that everyday African leaders have very little time to make sure their stories are told and heard. This is why We Will Lead Africa works hard to collect and tell stories of everyday African leadership. Stories of those who lead not for recognition, but for impact. Who step forward, not because they are invited, but because the work calls them.
Dear Everyday African Leader, we see you. Your work matters. Your leadership—whether in a boardroom, classroom, marketplace, or village square—is shaping the future. Do not make yourself a stranger to that truth. Do not make yourself a stranger to Africa. And above all, do not let the world convince you that leadership belongs only to a select few.
It belongs to you.
With solidarity and respect,
The We Will Lead Africa Founders’ Team
Yabome, Judith & Sarah