Africa is not a Country

During my first visit to the USA in 1988, I had to stop for a hot dog in Manhattan. While the street vendor assembled our dogs, we got to chatting. Looking at the color of my skin, he asked if I was from India.

“No,” I replied, “I’m from Kenya.”
He paused, puzzled.
“Kenya is in India, isn’t it?”
“No. Kenya is in Africa.”
And then came the line I’ll never forget:
“Africa, India—same thing.”

I wish I could tell you this was an isolated incident from a long-gone era, B.I. (Before Internet). But really, not much has changed.

Still Not a Continent?

People, companies, even the U.S. Government—many still lump “Africa” into a singular, vague idea. Want proof? Search for the phrase “He served in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Africa” and you’ll find, scattered all over, a non-parallel construction mixing nations and a continent. 

Let me be clear: Africa is not a country.

Image ChatGTP, 2025

I’m big on word choices and the need for parallel constructions. If a soldier served at military bases in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Djibouti, why not say that? Or say Middle East and Africa. I would even accept Asia and Africa. ** see the guest post "My US Military Encounters with the Women of Djibouti"

Do African countries not rise to the expectation of being independent countries?

Geography Quiz Time

Quick—stop reading. How many African countries can you name? Go.

Seriously. Take a breath. Try.

Here is a map to help you.

There are 52 countries in Africa recognized by the United Nations. Add to that three territories (two French, one British), and a disputed region, Western Sahara. Heard of São Tomé and Príncipe (islands south of Nigeria)? Eswatini (the renamed Swaziland as of 2018)? What is the newest country in the world? That’s South Sudan, born in 2011.

I’ve been to 15 of these countries—29%—but I’d never claim to “know Africa.” I’ve lived in Kenya for just under half my life, and even then, I’m constantly learning. The continent is too vast, too diverse, and too layered to lump together.

Misleading Pop Culture

It’s not just street vendors or clunky military bios that generalize. Remember “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by Band Aid in 1984? A noble effort to raise money that included the following lyrics   

“And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life (oh)
Where nothing ever grows, no rain or rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all? (Oh)

How many gross generalizations in these catchy chorus. Not every African is starving. Not every African is unfamiliar with Christmas. And yes, there is snow on the continent—Mount Kenya, Kilimanjaro [Tanzania], and Mount Stanley [Uganda/DRC border] have snow and ice year-round.

Africa spans over 11.6 million square miles. That’s comparable to Europe, South America, and Oceania combined. It's hosts the world’s longest river [the Nile], the second largest rainforest [Congo Basin], and amazing wildlife [bongo, buffalo, and bonobo). And yes, 50% of Africans are Christian but 50% are not. (Also: see my previous post on why Muslims should totally have Christmas trees.) 

By contrast, songs like “We Are the World” (1985) and Michael Jackson’s “Heal the World” (1991) may be about the Africa but don’t name the continent. I’ve got no qualms with Waka Waka (Shakira, 2010) either—it celebrated the first World Cup on the continent. South Africa hosted, but the whole continent was proud. 

Numbers don't Lie

Let’s talk dollars. The U.S. Government’s per diem and travel allowances are based on sound research and reflect global cost realities. Of 1,100+ international lodging rates, the 11th most expensive is in Africa—Accra, Ghana. Want high meal allowances? Luanda, Angola, ranks 16th globally. The cost-of-living index? Seychelles and Zimbabwe are up there as 5th highest with Munich and Hong Kong.

So if you’re still picturing a single, homogeneous place stuck in time—maybe swipe left.

Why Should You Care?

Because names matter. And because I really dislike non-parallel constructions. Generalizing nullifies individualism, makes stories generic, and reinforces ignorance—whether you're a policymaker, a student, a journalist, or just someone humming an '80s tune.