Addis Ababa, 11 November 2025 — Beneath the modest chandeliers of the African Union headquarters, voices rise—passionate and clear-headed. The sixth Conference on Land Policy in Africa (CLPA) is in full swing, and one of the most striking interventions comes from a man whose tone is calm but firm: Jonathan Ochom, a land governance specialist at Transparency International. His message is unequivocal: there can be no land justice without memory and historical accountability.
For Ochom, Africa’s land issues cannot be separated from its colonial legacy. “During colonization,” he recalls, “millions of hectares were seized from local communities and redistributed to settlers for agriculture or mining.” These expropriated lands fueled imperial economies while African peoples sank further into poverty. Today, the weight of this legacy still obstructs equitable access to land.
Beyond diagnosing the problem, Ochom advocates for a new approach to restitution: “We must first acknowledge that harm was done and clearly identify who is responsible.” For him, this recognition is the foundation of fair and sustainable reparations. Without this work of memory, “any restitution policy risks being mere political window dressing.”
The debate over land restitution in Africa, Ochom notes, remains vague. “What do we actually mean by restitution?” he asks. Should it involve returning physical land to the descendants of dispossessed communities, or compensating financially those who have lost everything? This ambiguity, he argues, must be resolved at the continental level.
Eligibility is another critical question. “Who should be compensated, and for which periods?” Africa, fragmented by multiple colonizations, has no uniform history of dispossession. Today, land dynamics have changed: some former colonial lands are owned by modern companies, sometimes with foreign shareholders. “How do you restitute land that has changed in legal and economic nature?” he asks.
Ochom’s reflection goes beyond history to confront contemporary challenges. Africa, experiencing a population boom, faces increasing pressure on land. Urbanization, climate change, and city growth—restitution cannot ignore these realities. “If we reopen cases from a hundred years ago, what about the millions of new residents on these lands?” he asks, realistically.
Another paradox: while African governments claim to seek land justice, many continue to apply colonial-era policies. “African states have replaced the colonizers without changing the logic,” he laments. Conservation and expropriation policies without compensation often echo yesterday’s colonial control.
As a Transparency International expert, Ochom does not shy away from the issue of corruption. “Africa has the lowest governance score in the world, with an average of 33/100 on the Corruption Perceptions Index.” He argues that it is unthinkable to talk about reparations without ensuring transparency in fund management. “Receiving financial compensation from former colonial powers would be meaningless if that money disappears into the pockets of local elites.”
The challenge, he insists, is both moral and technical: how can reparations be managed ethically? How can we ensure that communities, not leaders, benefit from these measures?
At the end of the conference, Ochom hopes for one thing: a unified African voice. Not just a declaration, but a shared roadmap, backed by the African Union, capable of influencing states and regional institutions. “We must leave this summit with a clear agenda on restitution and reparations,” he says. In a global context where European museums are beginning to return looted artifacts, Ochom calls for thinking bigger: “Restoring land is restoring dignity.”
For him, true decolonization in Africa will not happen only in museums, but in fields, forests, and villages where the memory of the soil still bears the scars of history.
By Kilalopress
