In Africa, we grow up enveloped by the close-knit fabric of community, where others form an essential thread in the weave of our lives. No one exists in isolation. In all our pursuits, the community to which we belong holds primacy, its influence ever paramount. As the saying goes, “I am because we are.”
This philosophy, known as uMunthu or uBuntu, is deeply rooted in African soil, yet its principles hold universal appeal. In earlier writings, I have maintained that no significant achievement arises in solitude—every success owes a debt to collective effort. The Chichewa proverb captures this aptly: “tiwiri tiwiri n’tiwanthu, kali koha n’kanyama” (surrounded, you are somebody; isolated, you are vulnerable), a truth that transcends borders.
When Chris Blackwell first encountered the Wailers in Jamaica, they stood as a cohesive ensemble, its founding members sharing equal standing—a living embodiment of uMunthu. Yet the Englishman renamed them “Bob Marley and the Wailers,” introducing a rift. Discord followed: Bunny Wailer departed to forge a solo path, with Peter Tosh soon following suit.
Even luminaries of classical music relied on collaboration. George Frideric Handel, having left Germany for England and struggled with opera, found renewal through Charles Jennens’s Biblical texts. From these sprang The Messiah in 1741, a work of profound musical genius.
At home, William Kamkwamba shines as a global figure, his tale of crafting a windmill from scraps now a film. Readers of The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind will note he never laboured alone. Friends Gilbert and Geoffrey stood by him throughout, offering aid at every turn in the windmill’s construction.
Liverpool Football Club’s motto encapsulates it: “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” Interaction remains vital for our growth. In much of the West, such bonds may extend only to a select few; in Africa and Asia, they evolve into communalism, the cornerstone of daily life. Every deed circles back to the community. Hence, African marriages join not just individuals, but whole families. In Malawian custom, the chinkhoswe engagement ceremony unites the kin before the wedding. Sadly, this rite has waned, often resembling a public precursor to the main event. Its significance is fast fading.
Western weddings and funerals, by contrast, are private affairs, accessible only by invitation. In Africa, they are communal gatherings: all from the village may—and indeed should—attend. “I am because we are”; my life is interwoven with the community’s, the essence of uMunthu.
Steven Sharra, a devoted proponent of uMunthu, argues that learning flourishes within its framework. Elders impart skills to the young through structured apprenticeships. Without this, traditions like gulewamkulu—roundly condemned by missionaries and colonial authorities—would have faded. Instead, they have endured, their intricacies handed down generations without formal schooling, nurtured by communal bonds.
Some thinkers elevate communalism further. In a book titled The Communalist Manifesto, the author, Professor Chinyamata Chipeta, calls on Africans to reject both Capitalism and Communism, adopting communalism as an economic path. Factors of production should belong not to individuals or the state, but to communities united in this ethos. Chipeta avoids “uMunthu,” yet his ideas align closely with its core.
We stand at a pivotal moment to delve into our African heritage and revive uMunthu’s tenets, redefining our shared existence. In doing so, we embrace our true identity, honouring a philosophy native to our continent. From there, we can share uMunthu’s light with the wider world, offering a gift born of African wisdom.
To deepen this reflection, consider how uMunthu manifests in everyday resilience. During hardships, such as droughts or economic strains common in Malawi, communities rally without hesitation—neighbours sharing harvests, tools, or labour. This mutual support mirrors the windmill project’s spirit, where Kamkwamba’s innovation thrived on collective ingenuity rather than lone genius. It contrasts sharply with individualism’s frequent pitfalls, where isolation breeds vulnerability, as the Chichewa adage warns.
Moreover, uMunthu’s educational dimension extends beyond apprenticeships. Village storytelling sessions, under starlit skies, transmit history, morals, and crafts orally—a living library preserved through dialogue. Gulewamkulu’s survival exemplifies this: its dances, masks, and rhythms encode cultural memory, defying colonial erasure through unbroken communal transmission.
As global challenges like climate change loom, uMunthu offers an antidote to fragmentation. By prioritising the “we,” Africa can lead, exporting not just resources, but a worldview of interconnected thriving. Let us seize this chance to live authentically African lives, radiant with communal strength.
We have a significant opportunity now to search within our African societies and redefine our existence by living out the tenets of philosophies like uMunthu. Thus, we shall become genuinely African by appreciating and embracing something truly African. We shall then export the uMunthu philosophy to the rest of the world.