Is there an Oyibo backing It? The question holding Africa back

A locally developed solution, thoughtfully designed to address indigenous challenges, may receive admiration and praise when presented to a major private corporation. Yet, before any real support or funding materializes, a familiar line of questioning emerges: Do you have international affiliations? Who are your global partners? Has this been implemented at scale?

Beneath these questions lies an unspoken one; “Is there an Oyibo backing this?”

Once a Western name or institution is introduced, the resistance often eases, barriers begin to loosen, and pathways that once seemed blocked suddenly open up.

There is a persistent issue with having solutions that only gain authenticity when there is a Western endorsement behind the scenes that we need to eliminate. Examples include Philip Emeagwali, a supercomputing pioneer whose contributions gained recognition only after being acknowledged internationally, and The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, William Kamkwamba, whose story became globally prominent due to Western media exposure. The examples are numerous, highlighting that while colonialism did not erase originality, it determines which African innovations receive validation and recognition through funding or visibility. Is it possible for us to develop solutions that are genuinely backed by Africans and successfully scaled and amplified without outside influence? This brings forth an important question: why must African innovation receive “endorsement” before it is deemed valid?From education to healthcare, agriculture to technology, many homegrown ideas are sidelined or undervalued until they are repackaged, funded, or approved by external actors.

This perspective stems from the many locally developed ideas and solutions intended to support families of children with neurodevelopmental disorders in Nigeria, innovations that often remain unseen simply because they lack Western origin or endorsement. As a result, numerous practical interventions are overlooked, while families are left to rely on imported approaches designed for entirely different contexts. These come at a high cost, requiring significant financial investment just to learn and implement them with our children.

In a country of over 220 million people, with a critical shortage of trained professionals and little reliable data on individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities due to weak data systems, the expectation seems to be that we wait for external help. But what happens to the parent in a rural community already burdened with uncertainties like poor harvests or security threats, while caring for a child with special educational needs? Must that parent wait for a local teacher to receive international certification before their child can access the practical support they need?

It has been suggested by Dr. Roman Yampolskiy on the podcast The Diary of a CEO, that by 2030, AI could take over nearly every form of work. But does that mean AI will reach our remote villages and underserved communities to deliver the deeply human aspects of therapy for children with limited social skills? Are we prepared to accept a future where these children may never fully experience or understand genuine social and emotional connection?

Rather than waiting for sophisticated machines (such as the dancing robot which slapped a child) to fill this gap, shouldn’t we begin to cultivate grassroots solutions tailored to the realities of the communities we serve. Solutions that do not depend on external validation or global recognition before they are trusted and implemented?

While the world continues to champion inclusion, it is worth asking whether this model fully fits the African context. Our continent lacks a unified Pan-African movement, and divisions among us have eroded the strong sense of community we once prided ourselves on. Today, we hear echoes of “go back home” directed at people who share the same identity and heritage, so what becomes of individuals with neurodevelopmental disorders if such exclusion takes root?

Rather than simply adopting imported ideas of inclusion; models that have, in some places, deepened social dimporte. Perhaps, the focus should shift toward fostering a genuine sense of belonging: a shared understanding that every individual has a place, without needing to constantly prove it. Lets move from Inclusion to Belonging.

Imagine a system where we are not forcing individuals with IDD into conventional schools or workplaces, but instead cultivating a true sense of belonging, where their place in society is unquestioned. Not because policies demand it, but because we have chosen to understand them deeply, learn from them, and build on their strengths as we grow together.

There is also a growing conversation about the future of humanity. Experts like Dr. Roman Yampolskiy suggest we are nearing the age of singularity, where AI could surpass human intelligence and evolve faster than we can comprehend, bringing rapid and unpredictable changes. This prediction is set to occur withing the next three to ten years. That future is closer than we think, what if individuals with autism spectrum disorder or other neurodevelopmental challenges represent a form of intelligence we have yet to fully understand. One that could be uniquely suited to navigating such complexity?

Instead of investing so much effort in making them conform to our ways of thinking, perhaps we should focus on studying their strengths and harnessing their potential for the future. Their numbers are increasing, so why aren’t we intentionally integrating them now, learning from them and about them, before time passes and we find ourselves unprepared? Innovation and Pan-African thinking should not be limited to a single community especially this community I serve. It ought to shape every aspect of our lives.

The same ‘validation tax’ we pay in healthcare is levied against us in our political landscape as we often seek validation from the West, when it comes to drafting constitutions or policies, even when those models conflict with our own values and cultural realities.

The same psychological blueprint unfolds within our healthcare system as we witness a steady flow of talent leaving the continent in search of what they believe is missing, and we lament brain drain without actively building replacements or developing local solutions. The shortage of doctors has become so severe that even basic first aid feels like a luxury. In response, people are turning to traditional remedies, without proper knowledge, dosage, or guidance. The very practices we once abandoned for lack of validation. Now, some resort to chewing leaves without understanding when to stop or whether they are safe, either due to distrust in Western medicine or because rising living costs have made formal healthcare unaffordable.