Wale Ketiku

Weaving Indigenous Knowledge into Opportunity to Empower Batwa Girls By Resty Nabaggala, Davis Byaruhanga, Josephine Nantege, & Schorah Tumwebaze, & Reuben Twinomujuni 1 From Cultural Heritage to Economic Empowerment In the misty highlands of southwestern Uganda, particularly within the Batwa settlements of Birara in Kisoro District and Kinyarushengye in Rubanda District, a quiet revolution is unfolding, one that reclaims Indigenous knowledge as tools for economic empowerment and cultural revival. Historically marginalized by conservation policies that severed their ancestral ties to land and livelihoods, Batwa communities have faced systemic exclusion and economic hardship. However, Batwa girls are now reimagining ancestral knowledge not as static heritage but as vibrant capital, transforming herbal medicine, agroecological farming, artisanal crafts, honey products, and culinary traditions into proud businesses. These efforts go beyond mere survival; they represent a conscious redefinition of identity, independence, and intergenerational continuity. Led by the Africa Indigenous Knowledge Research Network (AIKRN) and supported by the Mastercard Foundation, this initiative highlights Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) as sustainable and regenerative alternatives to extractive capitalist models. The cosmologies of reciprocity, ecological stewardship, and communal well-being support grassroots entrepreneurial efforts. In this context, Batwa girls’ enterprises serve as a practice of resistance and renewal. This blog synthesizes insights from field stories and data into five interconnected themes, each illustrating how dignity, success, knowledge, and entrepreneurship converge to empower Batwa girls and transform the development landscape. 2 Reclaiming Dignity: What Signifies Dignified and Fulfilling Work for Indigenous African Youth? For Batwa girls, the meaning of dignified work goes beyond just getting paid; it’s a sacred embrace of self-determination, cultural loyalty, and community support. In the lush regions of Birara and Kinyarushengye, young women view work as a moral and spiritual calling that must “honor our traditions, serve our people, and liberate us from dependency.” Roles traditionally held symbolic and economic importance, like herbal healing and oral storytelling, are being revalued as entrepreneurial pathways that affirm identity while generating income. These jobs are more than just economic activities; they are affirmations of existence in a world that has long overlooked Indigenous youth. As one herbalist powerfully said, “My medicine heals bodies and spirits, it is my inheritance and my future,” showing how ancestral knowledge becomes a way to gain dignity and social respect. This perspective aligns with African Indigenous philosophies where labor is connected to purpose, relationships, and cosmology. The revival of Batwa farming practices based on seed sovereignty and ecological wisdom further highlights this respectful approach to work, as girls grow strong crops that nourish both body and spirit. Likewise, beadwork and crafts are not only for beauty but also serve as memory tools, each piece a tangible record of ancestral history and cultural pride. Success, as envisioned by Batwa girls, is a multidimensional concept that emphasizes cultural integrity, relational responsibility, and personal fulfillment over material wealth. Unlike Western ideas of achievement, these girls see success as the ability to care for family, pass on knowledge, and reclaim agency while maintaining their Indigenous identity. “If I can feed my siblings, teach my craft, and be respected, I am successful,” one participant said, viewing effectiveness through a lens of communal care and spiritual harmony. Success is often judged by ancestral approval and the preservation of cultural practices, with girls describing their work as being “watched by the spirits” and “guided by the ancestors.” These spiritual elements highlight a worldview where achievement is relational, cyclical, and rooted in cosmological ethics. Education is also redefined as a community-centered approach to knowledge, where girls serve as protectors and transmitters of Indigenous knowledge through informal learning practices. “This is our university,” one peer educator said, framing learning within everyday life and intergenerational guidance. When market success occurs, it is celebrated not just for profit but also for its role in cultural preservation, where each sale is a conversation and each product a bearer of meaning. In this way, success weaves a fabric of resilience, reciprocity, and reverence. 3 Stimulated by Wisdom: How Indigenous Knowledge Transforms Marginal Communities The strategic mobilization of Indigenous knowledge by Batwa girls is not just an act of survival; it is a powerful redefinition of marginality into agency and exclusion into innovation. By transforming Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) into small businesses, these girls are not only asserting their economic presence but also reclaiming epistemic legitimacy within Uganda’s development discourse. Herbalists, for example, are synthesizing ancestral remedies into marketable products that connect traditional healing with modern wellness, positioning themselves as guardians of both health and heritage. Culinary artisans are revitalizing Indigenous foodways, such as millet porridge and native greens, not as nostalgic relics but as nutritional solutions and cultural lessons. “We don’t just feed people, we teach them,” one girl remarked, emphasizing how food becomes a tool for education and empowerment. The commercialization of Indigenous knowledge, when ethically managed and community-owned, can become a means to invest across generations and build socio-economic resilience. Craft groups also serve as centers of cultural storytelling and economic cooperation, each stitch or wood carving representing survival, each motif a declaration of presence. In this context, Indigenous knowledge is not just an aside; it is central to redefining development, restoring dignity, and shaping futures rooted in justice and cultural continuity. The empowerment of Batwa girls through Indigenous knowledge is not just a minor effort; it represents a fundamental shift that redefines development from the margins. Dignified work, culturally rooted success, and the transformative power of IKS are not isolated factors; they are interconnected pillars of a comprehensive framework focused on justice-driven entrepreneurship. By reclaiming ancestral wisdom as economic capital, Batwa girls are not only resisting erasure but actively shaping futures that honor their identity, support their communities, and challenge prevailing paradigms. Their enterprises are more than just businesses; they embody epistemic sovereignty, ecological stewardship, and spiritual harmony. By integrating Indigenous knowledge into opportunities, these girls are creating a new language of empowerment, one rooted in resilience, reciprocity, and reverence. The global development community must listen, learn, and align with these voices, as they carry the wisdom of

The Reproduction of Entrepreneurial Knowledge in Africa ByIdris Adesanya Department of Philosophy University of Ibadan Africa’s crisis of economic underdevelopment is tied to the continent’s inability to sustain the reproduction of entrepreneurial knowledge, owing to the marginalization of endogenous systems of creating and transmitting such knowledge from one generation to another. The marginalization of endogenous entrepreneurial knowledge in Africa can be traced to the continent’s historical antecedents, which include the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the colonial legacy, globalization, coupled with modernization, lack of documentation and the consequent disregard for cultural worldviews, including indigenous entrepreneurial knowledge dynamics. Entrepreneurial knowledge refers to the skills, expertise and understanding required to start, manage, grow and sustain a business. Entrepreneurial knowledge is acquired through several means, such as formal education, mentorship, networking, self-study and experience. However, entrepreneurial knowledge in Africa is a social and cultural construct, existing as a product of cultural values, traditions, practices and power-dynamics. African traditional systems of entrepreneurship are often socially-oriented, based on communal values, initiatives, traditions and practices, which are directed towards the needs of the community. Products of entrepreneurial knowledge in Africa include textiles and fabrics, woodcarvings and crafts, food and beverages, amongst others.    The epistemology of entrepreneurship in Africa involves the study of the nature, sources and limitations of entrepreneurial knowledge in African cultures and societies. African entrepreneurship is deeply rooted in cultural and social contexts, with entrepreneurs adopting traditional knowledge and taking advantage of community relations to make economic earnings. Entrepreneurial knowledge in the African traditional context can be described as community-based knowledge, which is couched in the endogenous epistemic categories, thought-systems and traditions of the people. African endogenous entrepreneurial knowledge is context-specific, since it is internally generated and focused on benefitting the particular community from which it evolves. The communal spirit is considered as a driving force for entrepreneurs in some cultural contexts, while it could also place huge burdens on entrepreneurs. Most African cultures emphasize the importance of the communal orientation in entrepreneurship activities, which limits individual liberty to withhold entrepreneurial knowledge from the community. Even despite its massive theorization within liberal western epistemological framework, entrepreneurship is essentially a practice that captures the cultural and human capacity to manage resources for survival. Entrepreneurship has been in practice across generations and cultures, as evident in the organized trading systems, skills, arts and crafts and other cultural products that were commercialized in pre-colonial Africa, particularly prior to the trans-Atlantic slave trade  Among the Yoruba of West Africa, for example, there are three basic classes of indigenous entrepreneurs—those who commercialize natural skills, those who combine learning with innate skills to modify their inventions or products, and lastly those who commercialize activities of buying and selling. The first category of entrepreneurs includes groups of skilled men and women like the onílù or àyan (drummers), asunrárà or olórikì (the praise singers), agbẹ́gilẹrẹ (woodcraft, sculpture), onídìrí (hairdressers) and so on. These groups of entrepreneurs deploy their talents to earn intrinsic and extrinsic rewards. The second category of entrepreneurs combine learning with skills, through the modification of old ideas to produce unique products, geared towards achieving greater economic gains. The third class of entrepreneurs comprises of the itinerant traders (alájàpá) and the petty traders (aláròbo). The alájàpá deal with bulk sales, just like modern-day wholesalers, while the aláròbo are the retailers or middlemen who sell to the consumers.      Endogenous frameworks of reproducing entrepreneurial knowledge amongst the Yoruba include the family lineage system and apprenticeship. The three classes of entrepreneurs identified above were able to sustain their trades and skills across centuries through inherited knowledge passed across generations through the family lineage and training from childhood. The onílù or àyan, who engage in the practice and trade of drumming represent a family lineage that has chosen drumming as a traditional occupation, which also automatically becomes the occupation of any child born into the family. This same practice is extended to the asunrárà, agbẹ́gilẹrẹ, onídìrí and other family-based occupations in Yoruba culture. The reproduction of endogenous entrepreneurial knowledge in Yoruba culture through family lineage foreshadows the people’s metaphysical belief in ancestral heritage, since the ancestors are believed to play an active role in influencing their destiny and fortunes. The belief in ancestral heritage amongst the Yoruba is also reflected in the practice of iron metallurgy, involving the alágbèdé (producers of iron implements and tools) who traditionally worship the Ogun deity, who is considered as the first iron-smith. The retrogression witnessed in the practice of iron metallurgy, just like most other traditional skills and trades in Africa, is a consequence of the poor reproduction of entrepreneurial knowledge on the continent, due to the gradual marginalization of endogenous entrepreneurial systems and techniques, occasioned by power-dynamics, such as colonialism, modernity, globalization and neo-colonialism. However, the revitalization of endogenous entrepreneurial knowledge in Africa will require a process of constant revalidation of such knowledge systems to determine their continued relevance for entrepreneurial realities in both local and global contexts. This can be done, for instance, through the revitalization of the traditional means of transmitting knowledge across generations, such as the abandoned lineage and apprenticeship systems. The next step is to document and preserve such bodies of knowledge and traditions that have animated the means of livelihood of Africans over the years. A neat articulation and integration of endogenous entrepreneurial knowledge with formal education will aid the reproduction and re-appropriation of such knowledge in Africa. State support and funding for indigenous entrepreneurship will also help provide the required funding and resources for the promotion of endogenous entrepreneurship in Africa. Demand for local products should also be encouraged, to facilitate the development of innovative solutions that meet local needs.

Museums as Epistemic and Entrepreneurial Gateways By Olanike Onimisi Department of Theatre Arts University of Ibadan, Nigeria The traditions of our indigenous communities are at great risk of being forgotten in a fast-paced world highly dominated by new technologies and digital experiences. A recent visit to the National Museum of Unity, Ibadan, roused within me a mixed feeling of pleasure and pain. Having my many questions answered with such fine details got me ecstatic about my new understanding of the indigenous people, histories, cultures and traditions of southwestern Nigeria as well as those from selected ethnic groups in other parts of Nigeria; but there was the disappointment at the scant patronage and seeming lack of interest in the very significant indigenous artifacts on display. Museum visits in 21st century Nigeria seem to not be a delightful pastime, at least not where there are multiple games arcades, shopping malls and the ubiquitous internet-enabled access to social media. Even watching movies like House of Ga’a or Amina seems more intellectually entertaining, even without a clue of the historical provenance of the cultural artifacts or storyline grounding the film. Entertainment is enough! But how many people, especially young adults today, can boast of the basic capacity to narrate the cultural histories and/or identify indigenous objects peculiar to their places of origins or immediate communities? For most children and youths in Nigeria, weekends, holidays or even some after-school hours spent in the vibrant chaos of video games or at the cinemas watching the latest blockbuster film appears to be far more appealing than a quiet afternoon in a museum. Yet, these institutions serve as vital epistemic gateways, offering invaluable opportunities for young minds to explore and understand their indigenous knowledge. But who are we to blame for this epistemological gap? Following the reintroduction of History in primary and secondary schools’ curriculum in recent years, what are the structures put in place to ensure that learning is fun and engaging, beyond the textbooks? Museums, for example, are places to combine education and entertainment. As school pupils and students observe artifacts and exhibitions, they can ask questions and ponder more about what they have seen or interacted with; and this is an exercise capable of fostering critical thinking in them as individuals and as a collective. Also, while the English language remains compulsory in determining the academic progress of the average pupil or student, no indigenous languages are. Thus, the combination of governmental cluelessness about the significance of indigenous knowledge and the technological definition of the knowledge society articulates a dangerous disinterestedness in the epistemological utility of historical and indigenous knowledges. Postcolonial museums, like the National Museum of Unity, as well as the Odu’a Museum and Hall of Fame in Ibadan, have challenges too – like ossifying the knowledges about cultural artifacts, or parroting just one narrative on some of the symbols as if that is the only narrative available. Or not properly indexing the diacritics on Yoruba words and concepts (for example at the National Museum of Unity, “Ṣìgìdì” should not be rendered as “Shigidi”). Or worse still, not having sufficient collaborative engagements to keep refreshing the displays with loans and purchases that could bring audiences and deepen the epistemological interests in indigenous knowledges and symbolic discourses and ideologies.  These are possible reasons for the dismal attendance at local museums and cultural conservatories. For instance, it was obvious that the crowd pull witnessed most recently at the National Museum of Unity was due to the pottery-making workshop with Akin Potter, facilitated by the French Institute of Research in Africa (IFRA); which recorded attendance by school students having interactive and immersive learning experiences. The workshop featured hands-on exhibits where all participants not only explored the museum (especially the pottery section), but also had access to clay and pottery equipment, using the different methods taught to mold various objects original to them. Apart from such external initiatives, local museums need to have a revolving plan to attract audiences who must be kept coming in curated anticipation. Maybe the audiences who prefer the game arcades and epic films desire a different dynamic for showcasing their indigenous histories to be able to find it worthy of attention.  Perhaps, an entrepreneurial approach could significantly improve the role and importance of museums in the consciousness of the populace. One effective strategy would be for museums to adopt an intentional approach in curating their narratives and engaging with the online community. Using such modern technologies like the internet and social media (Instagram, X, Facebook, WhatsApp, Threads, TikTok, YouTube, etc.), where most people across the age spectrum primarily consume and disseminate information, could be a self-marketing strategy for museums; while young people can be incorporated into the museum’s operations – whether through internships, paid positions, or volunteer programs. Recruiting young people to serve as ambassadors for the museum can also further enhance its outreach, because these young marketers (or influencers, as they are now called) can leverage their familiarity with social media and modern communication skills to craft engaging content that resonates with their peers. The interests of younger demographics who are accustomed to digital experiences can also be tapped into by incorporating virtual tours and interactive exhibitions in the museum’s activities.  Mobile apps can also be developed to deliver complementary resources that pique people’s interest and encourage them to explore further and continue conversations long after the museum experience. Considering that funding is a major hinderance to arts programming in Nigeria, museums can generate revenue by manufacturing and selling replicas of the artifacts they exhibit. This will partly reduce their reliance on government funding or patron donations and provide employment opportunities and international exposure to the expert local artisans who will be making these replicas, while also allowing visitors to take pieces of history home with them and showcase local craftsmanship on a global scale. Another game-changer could be museum partnerships with organizers of major annual events like the Detty December – a period of celebration in Lagos featuring back-to-back parties,

THE ÀDÌRẸ INDUSTRY: CRAFTING INDIGENOUS CULTURE INTO ENTREPRENEURSHIP By Blessing Tomoloju IBADAN RESEARCH WORKING GROUP, UNIVERSITY OF IBADAN Abẹ́òkúta is an ancient city located in the southwestern part of Nigeria. And it is famous for its deep heritage in Àdìrẹ. Little wonder, when one walks through Itoku, Asero, Ijeja, Kemta communities of Abẹ́òkúta, the rhythmic sound of dye pots bubbling and fabrics being beaten into brilliance echoes a timeless legacy. This is the sound of Àdìrẹ, the indigo-dyed textile craft that has flourished for centuries among the Yorùbá people of southwestern Nigeria. Àdìrẹ is more than fabric, it is cultural language, that is, a visual narrative of history, identity, and artistry that embodies the creativity of an entire culture Àdìrẹ, is a combination of two Yoruba words: “àdì” (to tie) and “rẹ” (to dye). And yet, Àdìrẹ is more than a fabric technology. It is a symbol of identity, an artistic expression, a cultural heritage that has been passed down from one generation to another. And beyond being an indigenous endeavor, it has entrepreneurial potentials. Àdìrẹ has been for many women a lifeline that has sustained their families for generations. And much more today, this Indigenous craft has also become a gateway to innovation, global recognition, and economic empowerment. Àdìrẹ production represents a notable example of how Indigenous knowledge systems contribute to entrepreneurship, cultural identity, and women’s empowerment in Africa. Àdìrẹ began centuries ago among the Ẹ̀gbá women of Abẹ́òkúta, who through mastery in indigo dyeing process, used natural materials, such as raffia strings for tying, cassava paste for painting patterns, and dye extracted from the elu (indigo) plant, to create beautiful designs patterns on handwoven cotton. Designs and patterns weren’t created arbitrarily or randomly. They were symbolic of the culture of the people. For instance, some of the designs and patterns such as olókun symbolized wealth and depth, named after the goddess of the sea; elébùté represented prestige; Ìbàdándùn meant “Ibadan is sweet.” These patterns were a silent language, recording history and community stories on cloth. This is to show that Àdìrẹ is an indigenous endeavor based on the fact that it is rooted in the culture and tradition of the people. Àdìrẹ is an indigenous endeavor that is deeply communal. Women, both young and old, are involved in it not only for the preservation of their culture but also as a means of survival and sustenance. This means that Àdìrẹ as an indigenous endeavor has entrepreneurial potentials. Even before the term “entrepreneurship” became fashionable, Àdìrẹ was an Indigenous business model that thrived on shared knowledge, cooperation, and trade, which are values central to African economic life. Beyond its beauty, Àdìrẹ has become a powerful economic engine. Across Nigeria, young entrepreneurs are breathing new life into the craft, blending traditional methods with modern business ideas. Fashion designers like Nike Davies-Okundaye championed Àdìrẹ on global stages, teaching women across Nigeria how to dye fabrics and create sustainable income. Historically, Àdìrẹ was not just about fabric; it was a medium through which communities told stories, expressed values, and sustained livelihoods. For many women, especially in Southwestern Nigeria, Àdìrẹ provided a source of income and independence, allowing them to contribute economically to their households and communities. It implies that Àdìrẹ production is not only a means of preserving cultural heritage, it is also a means of survival for many women in south West Nigeria. In many Yoruba communities, Àdìrẹ remains a women-led enterprise. For countless families, it provides daily income and independence. Initially the knowledge of Àdìrẹ was passed from mothers to their daughters and daughters-in-law. However, young women are now learning the craft primarily through apprenticeship, workshops and vocational programs, turning inherited skills into thriving small businesses. Each fabric sold doesn’t just carry dye, it carries a story of empowerment and legacy. The new generation of Àdìrẹ entrepreneurs is coming up with new designs and patterns. Instead of limiting designs to traditional indigo, they are trying out new designs while using environmentally friendly dyes. Some apply Àdìrẹ patterns to modern wear like sneakers, bags, or even laptop bags. This fusion of indigenous artistry and modern taste keeps the craft relevant and appealing to global audiences. In a world increasingly concerned about sustainability, Àdìrẹ offers a refreshing alternative. Its natural dyeing process and handmade nature make it an eco-friendly product. Conscious fashion brands are now collaborating with Nigerian artisans to promote slow fashion, celebrating craftsmanship and cultural preservation. It is pertinent to note that Àdìrẹ provides a connection between indigenous knowledge and economic development. It is not just about economic development; beyond this, it keeps Yoruba culture alive. Each motif and pattern continues to tell stories passed down for generations. Wearing Àdìrẹ is not just fashion, it’s storytelling. It’s a reminder that even in a modern world, our Indigenous roots still matter. The future of Àdìrẹ rests in the hands of those who see beyond fabric, those who understand that what began in dye pits and village courtyards in Mama Mapo’s compound (the first woman to make Àdìrẹ) can now inspire the world. Young designers are blending creativity with entrepreneurship; communities are preserving culture while earning a living. Definitely, the journey is not without challenges. Many artisans struggle with challenges of environmental factors, lack of modern tools, access to quality materials, modern equipment, and financing and declining interest among youths. The market is also flooded with machine-printed imitations from abroad, which undercut authentic handmade Àdìrẹ. Despite all these challenges lies opportunity. Àdìrẹ continues to thrive because of the commitment and resilience of women entrepreneurs. Their stories reflect not just survival but also innovation and adaptation in the face of adversity. The future of Àdìrẹ lies in embracing its cultural roots while expanding its economic potential. It is, therefore, not just fabric but a powerful symbol of Africa’s enduring heritage and entrepreneurial spirit. Àdìrẹ as an indigenous endeavor If properly supported, has the entrepreneurial potentials of becoming a model for how traditional crafts fuel sustainable development in Africa. It teaches us that

Indigenous Health and Well being: Opportunities for Jobs and Entrepreneurship for African Youth The Africa Indigenous Knowledge Research Network (AIKRN) and the Institute of African Studies (IAS) at Carleton University invite you to join the upcoming AIKRN Quarterly Webinar on “Indigenous Health  and Wellbeing: Opportunities for Jobs and Entrepreneurship for African Youth.” Across Africa, Indigenous health systems rooted in traditional medicine, natural healing practices, community care, and spirituality have sustained generations. Today, these systems continue to offer affordable, culturally grounded, and sustainable healthcare solutions—especially in rural areas. Yet, much of this Indigenous knowledge remains undervalued, under-documented, and disconnected from contemporary entrepreneurship and innovation ecosystems. With youth unemployment hovering around 12% across the continent, the time is ripe to bridge ancestral wisdom with youth-led innovation and enterprise to build resilient, inclusive, and sustainable economies. This engaging two-hour webinar will convene scholars, practitioners, policymakers, and young entrepreneurs to explore how Indigenous health knowledge can serve as a powerful foundation for innovation, job creation, and sustainable development in Africa. Read more @Carleton University