London, Anger and the G8 Youth Summit

Just little over a year ago, I had the great opportunity of attending the G8 Youth Summit in United Kingdom. It was such an exciting time for me given what I wanted (and still want) to do with my life. I felt (and still believe) that the experience came just at the right time. The opportunity provided just the right conversations and just the right ‘friction’ to aid my growth. But before we go there, I need to tell you about the anger that I felt upon my return. I sometimes laugh at myself though! I mean, who goes to LONDON only to come back filled with emotions of rage!?

                                            

The trip to London was a smooth one, 14 hours of air travel if I remember correctly. I arrived just a little late for registration but was able to connect with the African Union and South African teams. The following few days would be filled with debates and negotiations about what we felt what the ideal way forward for the world. I found myself in the company of close to a hundred youth who had been sponsored because of their passion to make a difference, or so I thought.

This is what made me angry:

1. The whole thing; the debates, the negotiations, it felt like a simulation. In the previous article, I mention how I thought the summit would be of little consequence; this was in relation to this. Thing is I'd gone to that summit thinking I was going to take part in debates that would definitely impact change in the lives of many. After day one, I felt so discouraged. I felt we were only doing it for the sake of doing it, so we may have it on our CV's and so the world community may mark it done. I felt like we were working towards a document that the 'elders' would not even make time to read. Yes, we got to network and we learned a lot from each other, but I did not believe we would meet what I thought to be the real objectives of the summit; create a path for positive, sustainable change.

The Summit's Sherpas

2. The majority of the discussions were about Africa and it made me sad that these had to be discussed on foreign land with the majority of negotiators being non-African. It made me so angry to have people who had probably only heard about Africa on CNN or BBC attempt to map a way forward for Africa!! And this was only a ‘simulation’. I can only imagine what goes on in the 'real' G8 summits. I'm now reminded of the meeting that took place in FRANCE to discuss the fate of the 200 Nigerian girls earlier this year!! It makes me sad and very angry that Africa doesn't have much of a say in the running of her affairs.

3. I think it was on the first day when I learned that some countries, European countries, had paid their youth to take part in the summit. It had to be youth with experience in diplomacy, international relations and so forth. That's why the summit felt of little relevance and impact. It felt like a show, just something to tick off. I mean, were we not supposed to select youth based on merit and passion for global development? Were we not supposed to select youth that would critically engage to come up with recommendations for their governments? My expectations had been that that building in Greenwich University would be filled with youth ready to stand up to their governments on matters of national and global interest. Instead we had youth who feared to make policy recommendations not matching those of their governments. My expectation had been of a discussion on ways of holding our governments accountable and demanding able leadership and responsibility.

A picture with Big Ben

Getting back to Africa after a week in London was difficult. I now had to face friends and acquaintances who wanted to know about the London experience. It was difficult because people didn't really want to know how it was, they didn't want to know the truth. Most people only wanted to hear about all the touristy activities and whether I'd met Big Ben. I couldn't tell them all that I have written above. I felt a little depressed after London. One of my friends actually told me that my happy had diminished. I wish I had trusted him enough to tell him all was not well inside of me. I get the same question about Cape Town. I've struggled to settle here, but I'm able to tell the truth, even though not always.

I feel better now, about London. Writing forces me to engage in critical self-conversations, writing makes it better.