Politics shapes the fate of nations not only through laws and institutions but through the quiet bargains it strikes with power.
In Africa, politics has too often functioned as an ambush rather than a pathway, a space where promise is intercepted before it reaches the many.
The consequences are visible in living standards, opportunity gaps, and a widening distance between the governed and those who govern. Yet this political condition does not exist in isolation. It unfolds within a global order marked by geopolitical competition, economic shocks, and shifting alliances that increasingly press upon African states.
The question is no longer whether politics influences development. It is how power is exercised in an era where Africa sits at the intersection of global interests, demographic momentum, and unfinished democratic projects. Literature, particularly poetry, has long served as a mirror to these tensions. Few works capture this dynamic as sharply as Gbemisola Adeoti’s poem Ambush, a text that reads today less like a metaphor and more like a diagnosis.
Poetry as Political Witness
Gbemisola Adeoti stands among Africa’s most incisive literary voices not because he offers comfort, but because he insists on clarity. A poet of justice, Adeoti writes from the conviction that society must be interrogated before it can be healed. His work refuses to remain silent in the face of abuse, corruption, and moral drift. Ambush is one such intervention, using the language of land and beasts to map the relationship between power and the people.
In a continent where political analysis is often trapped between technical jargon and partisan noise, poetry becomes an alternative archive. It records what policy briefs omit. It captures the emotional cost of governance failures and the psychological terrain of exclusion. Adeoti’s imagery resonates because it draws from lived African realities while speaking to global patterns of elite capture and institutional decay.
The Whale Economy and the Politics of Extraction
"The land is a giant whale
That swallows the sinker,
With hook, line and bait"
Adeoti’s opening metaphor is both startling and precise. The land, standing in for political authority, becomes a creature that consumes not just the catch but the tools of survival themselves. In contemporary terms, this is the economy of extraction without redistribution. Resources meant for public good vanish into private vaults, offshore accounts, and opaque procurement chains.
This metaphor feels especially current in a global moment defined by resource competition. As global powers seek minerals for energy transitions, strategic ports for trade routes, and capital markets, African elites often sit at the negotiating table. Yet the benefits of these engagements rarely reach the fisher at dusk. Instead, they reinforce a political economy where access determines outcomes.
International reports continue to show that sub-Saharan Africa remains the only region where extreme poverty is rising in absolute numbers. This is not due to a lack of resources or potential, but to governance systems that prioritise extraction over inclusion. The whale does not hunt. It swallows.
Aborted Futures in a Young Continent
"Aborting dreams of a good catch
Fishers turn home at dusk
Blue Peter on empty ships
All Peters with petered out desires"
Africa is the youngest continent in the world, yet its political systems often treat youth as a threat rather than an asset. The image of fishers returning empty handed captures a generation whose aspirations are repeatedly deferred. Education does not guarantee employment. Innovation does not guarantee capital. Participation does not guarantee representation.
In geopolitical terms, this youth bulge intersects with global instability. Migration routes become escape valves. Foreign armies and security contractors find recruits among the disillusioned. External actors frame African youth as either a demographic dividend or a security risk, while domestic politics offers no credible pathways.
What emerges is a politics of frustration. Opportunities circulate within tight networks, while merit is subordinated to proximity. Governance becomes a closed loop, and the social contract thins to near transparency.
Fear as Governance Technology
"The land is a sabre-toothed tiger
That cries deep in the glade"
Adeoti’s tiger is not merely violent. It is performative. Fear becomes a tool of governance, deployed to discipline dissent and narrow the space of possibility. Across the continent, the pattern repeats with local variations. Opposition figures face detention. Journalists confront intimidation. Civil society operates under regulatory pressure.
This phenomenon is not uniquely African. It mirrors global democratic backsliding, from Eastern Europe to parts of Asia and the Americas. Yet in Africa, where institutions are still consolidating, the impact is magnified. Fear discourages participation. It trains citizens to retreat before they organise.
Geopolitically, authoritarian resilience is often rewarded. Security cooperation, counterterrorism partnerships, and strategic alignments can insulate governments from accountability. The tiger roars, and external actors look away, prioritising stability over justice.
The Hawk State and Selective Surveillance
"The land is a giant hawk
That courts unceasing disaster
As it hovers and hoots in space"
The hawk watches. It selects. It strikes. Adeoti’s final animal metaphor captures the surveillance logic of modern power. Selective enforcement, targeted prosecutions, and the weaponisation of institutions become tools for maintaining dominance.
In recent years, digital surveillance technologies have deepened this dynamic. Imported systems monitor communications. Laws regulating cyberspace are framed as security measures but often function as instruments of control. The global trade in surveillance technology links African states to a broader geopolitical ecosystem where data is power.
Yet the hawk also courts disaster. Governance built on coercion is brittle. It accumulates grievances faster than it resolves them. History suggests that states which hover too long above their people eventually lose sight of the ground.
Ambush as Political Method
"The land lies patiently ahead
Awaiting in ambush
Those who point away from a direction
Where nothing happens
Toward the shore of possibilities"
Here, Adeoti names the strategy. Ambush is not chaos. It is planned. It is the deliberate obstruction of change. Reformers are neutralised before they gather momentum. Narratives are managed. Alternatives are delegitimised.
This is where literature meets geopolitics most sharply. As Africa navigates multipolar competition, debt restructuring, climate vulnerability, and security challenges, political elites often present inevitability as policy. Citizens are told there is no alternative, even as other shores remain visible.
The danger is not only stagnation but also normalisation. When ambush becomes routine, imagination contracts. Politics loses its future tense.
Toward the Shore of Possibilities
Despite the bleakness of Adeoti’s imagery, his work is not nihilistic. It is a warning, not a surrender. Ambush exposes the mechanics of power so they can be resisted. In an era where Africa’s global relevance is rising, the stakes of governance are higher than ever.
Cleaning the political space requires more than moral outrage. It demands institutional reform, civic courage, and international engagement grounded in accountability rather than convenience. It also requires a cultural insistence that power must answer to purpose.
Freedom, as history reminds us, is not gifted. It is organised. It is claimed. And in Africa’s long political journey, the shore of possibilities remains real, even if the path toward it is contested.
