In African civil society, we have mastered the art of cataloging our deficits. While our challenges are real, we certainly don’t hold a monopoly on them.
After all, what sector wouldn’t point to the urgent need for sustainable funding, better data, and stronger institutions? Which organizations wouldn’t lobby for greater visibility, deeper public trust, localized decision-making power, and flexible grants?
I don’t mean to diminish our hurdles. When 44 out of 50 African countries monitored by the CIVICUS Monitor are rated as restricted, the pressure is immense. But precisely in that context, we have even more reason to recognize and appreciate what we already possess, rather than just fixating on what we lack.
In Swahili we say Tusherehekee – let us celebrate.
Africa has a deep, living culture of giving. This isn’t something invented by modern philanthropy, international development, or the NGO sector. It is embedded in communities and relationships that go back generations.
History shows that giving was intertwined with the development of African societies long before colonial institutions arrived. Through gifts, people cared for one another, strengthened relationships, built alliances, and supported collective well-being. The practice of Waqf in historic Islamic societies, such as the Mali Empire or the Swahili coast, was a form of charitable endowment. They funded universities, libraries and hospitals long before European intervention. And centuries ago, the Yoruba people of West Africa formed one of the oldest manifestations of what we now term a Rotating Savings and Credit Association (ROSCA). Members contributed regular amounts of money or resources to a common pool, which was given to one member at a time. This allowed individuals to build capital, launch trades, or survive hardships without relying on external entities.
In other words, philanthropy – the love of humankind, and the actions to support it — didn’t arrive in Africa.
It was always there. And it is still there.
So, instead of asking what the sector needs more of, what if we gave thanks? There is quite a lot to celebrate.
The world’s most generous continent
There is something wonderful about the fact that a continent so often framed through poverty and need can point to extraordinary evidence of generosity.
The CAF 2025 World Giving Report found that Africa is the world’s most generous continent when measured by the proportion of income people share. Africans gave an average of 1.54 percent of their income, compared to 0.64 percent in Europe. Seventy-two percent of surveyed Africans had given money in the previous year.
This giving isn’t confined to formal charities.
People give directly to neighbors in need. They give through religious communities. They support relatives and friends, contributing to grassroots projects.
This distinction matters because how we count generosity shapes how we see it.
If we only look for donations flowing through registered foundations, we miss the bedrock of what sustains African communities. If we measure generosity purely in absolute monetary value, we miss what people give relative to what they actually have.
Assume philanthropy is something wealthy societies teach poorer ones, and you miss a much older, more interesting story. Indeed, our own study this year finds that 59% of donors cite community solidarity as a value shaping their giving, something I venture would be enviable to many countries outside of our continent.
Our upcoming research
This Novembre, in partnership with Giving Mardi Africa, we will be launching our first-of-its-kind research evidence on African individual giving, in which we take a look at the donor side of the relationship as well as the perspective of the organizations themselves.
Some of our most important infrastructure doesn’t have a logo
Across the continent, you find the myriad ways people show up to help one another. Networks of mutual aid, faith communities, women’s groups, savings circles, hometown associations, and burial societies.
Some are ancient. Some are brand new. Some are tightly organized; others exist simply because when someone needs help, people conceive and implement a way to provide it.
This is genuinely something remarkable.
These initiatives don’t always match the boxes international development uses to define “civil society.” But they perform the exact same functions: mobilizing resources, solving problems, weathering crises, and holding communities together. And they do it without letting bureaucracy delay their intervention and their impact – because by then it would be too late.
Research on community philanthropy in places like Sierra Leone highlights enduring traditions of giving that have adapted through colonialism, conflict, and economic shock.
This is vital social infrastructure. We should pay attention to systems that survived precisely because ordinary people built them themselves.
The more we recognize everyday giving, the better we can support and scale it.
Giving doesn’t stop at a border
African generosity didn’t stop when people left the continent.
We usually discuss the African diaspora through the dry language of remittances; money sent home as a financial statistic. But behind those flows are living relationships.
Families supporting families. Communities funding schools and clinics. Professionals sharing knowledge. Entrepreneurs investing back home.
The World Bank has long documented that diaspora contributions extend far beyond personal remittances into trade, investment, and intellectual capital. Sub-Saharan remittances reached roughly $54 billion in 2023.
That isn’t just capital crossing a border. It proves something more enduring: belonging travels.
The ingenuity of the sector itself
We need to celebrate the organizations making change happen on budgets that defy understanding. When we survey CSOs, as we do each year, the vast majority operate on incomes under $100,000.
These groups work from a place of deep proximity. They are not only frontline operators, but they are also deeply engaged in community-led social change – as seen in the extraordinary changemakers who reached the second phase of our African CSO Awards 2026. Many are activists turning frustration into movements, social entrepreneurs building local solutions, and community leaders mobilizing before an institutional donor has even drafted a strategy.
There is an ingenuity here that deserves real recognition, direct investment, and a voice in how we build our future. We are delighted that we will have an opportunity to do that next month when we announce our winners in Nairobi.
Celebration isn’t complacency
None of this means pretending the challenges are gone.
African civil society faces profound constraints. Funding remains profoundly unequal. Civic space shrinks by the day in many regions. Organizations fight daily for survival and visibility. Too much of the global development architecture still treats African actors as passive recipients rather than producers of knowledge and solutions.
Yet, there is a gulf between acknowledging a deficit and defining an entire sector by it. Where one points to where change is required, the other implies there was never anything of value there to begin with. And that is a dangerous story. You cannot build an equitable system on the assumption that one side holds all the assets while the other holds all the needs.
African civil society doesn’t need to be invented or upgraded. It needs to be seen.
So, let’s celebrate
Celebrate the daily generosity that happens without a receipt or a tax deduction.
Celebrate the community networks that carried people through crises long before anyone coined the term “domestic resource mobilization.”
Celebrate a diaspora whose bond with home endures and builds beyond new identities and borders.
Celebrate the people giving time, money, and skills because they believe their community life is worth as much to them as their individual one.
Despite everything, people keep organizing. They keep building solutions and showing up. Because caring is the beginning of every story of social change.
The real question facing African civil society isn’t just: What do we need?
It is also: What do we already have, and what becomes possible when we all learn to recognize and maximize its value?