Why France cannot ignore the reparations issue

“Sometimes going back is moving forward.” That Ghanaian proverb captures the tension that hung over the Africa Forward Summit in Nairobi. The summit was presented as a reset in Africa–France relations.

Held in Nairobi and co-hosted by William Ruto and Emmanuel Macron, it focused on the familiar language of the future. Innovation, energy, agriculture, investment, and youth opportunity dominated the agenda. President Macron pledged billions of euros in support for energy and agricultural development. He spoke repeatedly about a new partnership with Africa based on equality, mutual interest, and shared prosperity.

President Ruto emphasised that Africa’s partnerships must be based on sovereign equality, not aid or charity, and not structures that reproduce dependency. On paper, it sounded like a turning point. But there was a missing conversation. Reparations and restitution were not on the agenda. That absence is difficult to ignore.

It is paradoxical that a summit branded “Africa Forward” avoided serious engagement with the historical injustices that continue to shape Africa’s relationship with France and much of the wider West. You cannot speak meaningfully about moving forward while treating the past as settled. France’s relationship with Africa did not begin with innovation summits or investment partnerships.

French colonial rule across West and Central Africa was built on extraction, forced labour, resource exploitation, and political domination. Even after independence in the 1960s, many African countries remained tied to Paris through military agreements, monetary arrangements, and deep political influence that critics still describe as neo-colonial in character.

In recent years, that legacy has become increasingly contested. Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger were notably absent from the Nairobi summit. These countries have rejected French military presence and reduced cooperation with Paris.

In the Sahel, anti-French sentiment has grown in response to years of insecurity, failed interventions, and perceptions of continued external interference in domestic affairs. Their absence was not incidental. It reflected a deeper political shift in parts of the continent where France’s influence is no longer accepted in the same way it once was.

This is also why France’s increasing attention toward East Africa is viewed by some with caution. Critics argue that as influence weakens in the Sahel, it is being recalibrated elsewhere under the language of partnership and development. The reaction to Macron’s comments at the summit added another layer to this tension. His description of himself as a “positive Pan-Africanist” struck many as inappropriate. Pan-Africanism is not a diplomatic posture.

It is a political tradition rooted in resistance to slavery, colonialism, and racial domination. It was shaped by African and diaspora thinkers and liberation movements that fought against the very systems of power that European colonial states represented. For many Africans, hearing the leader of a former colonial power adopt that identity without addressing the unresolved questions of history felt like appropriation rather than solidarity.

The discomfort was amplified by his interruption of a youth session at the University of Nairobi, where he reprimanded sections of the audience for what he described as a lack of respect. Some defended the gesture as maintaining order. Others saw it differently, as a familiar paternal tone that echoes older hierarchies.

A Senegalese student, Thierno Mbaye, captured the reaction with a simple question. “Just imagine what would happen if an African leader did the same thing in America or Europe.” Even within France, criticism emerged. Danièle Obono of La France Insoumise accused Macron of behaving “like a coloniser.”

Whether one agrees with that description or not, the controversy points to something deeper. Colonial memory is not in the past. It continues to shape how authority, language, and legitimacy are interpreted in Africa and in Europe. That is why reparations and restitution cannot be treated as separate from discussions about the future.

The African Union has already declared 2026 to 2036 the Decade of Reparations. The agenda is no longer symbolic. It includes financial reparations, debt justice, restitution of cultural artefacts, return of archives, and broader reforms to global systems that continue to disadvantage African economies.