Maybe We All Need A Trump in Our Lives

Is Trump the push that Africa needed?

Some of you probably read the title of this newsletter and immediately thought, what is wrong with this girl? But to those of you who looked past it and actually clicked—thank you. Because let’s be honest, with the way Trump moves, nobody really wants to be associated with him. His style of politics is wild—easily one of the most interesting I’ve ever seen, and honestly something I’d love to study. But I digress.

Like most people, I wasn’t thrilled when Trump came into power. And also like most people, I didn’t expect the level of madness he brought with him. From mass deportations to the cuts on DEI initiatives and then the crazy tariffs (by the way, I just saw that the US and China agreed to roll them back for 90 days—but who knows how true that is?). Still, when I first heard about these tariffs and listened to all the debates, I remember someone saying that these tariffs would go down in history as either the greatest or the craziest economic move since the beginning of time. Only time will tell. And I genuinely look forward to how all this will be recorded in the history books. But again—I digress.

When I first heard about the tariffs, my thoughts went straight to Africa—my home continent. And more specifically, to Nigeria. As a Pan-Africanist (I almost wrote my dissertation on it!), I couldn’t help but wonder: how would this affect us?

But the more I thought about it, the more I arrived at one conclusion: maybe this is our necessary evil. Maybe this is the “bad” we need to experience in order to finally take charge of our development. Maybe this is the slap in the face we need to realize that the white man is not our friend. Just like he’s using us for his own advancement, we need to wake up and start focusing on our own.

Because let’s be honest—we’ve spent far too long looking outward for development and improvement. I mean, I’m a Nigerian writing this newsletter from her flat in London, a girl who came here to pursue higher education and chase her dreams because the conditions in her own country aren’t exactly working in her favour. If Nigeria had a better economic and political climate, I wouldn’t be here. Simple.

And that’s exactly why I think this is a good opportunity for us to look inward. To take the bull by the horn and finally face our problems head-on. So, in this newsletter, I’ll be exploring these tariffs from three angles: the economic, the political, and—most importantly—the perspective of the people on the ground. Because let’s be real, they’re the ones who always feel it the most.

So, let’s get it cracking.

Economic Angle

At first glance, Trump’s trade policies seemed like a tug-of-war between the U.S. and China. But Africa wasn’t untouched—the ripple effects hit hard, though indirectly, through three main economic channels.

First up: AGOA—The African Growth and Opportunity Act. This act granted duty-free access to the U.S. market for eligible African countries. But then came Trump's tariffs, which pretty much nullified AGOA before its official expiration in September 2025. His reciprocal tariffs overrode the preferential terms, destabilizing export-reliant sectors like apparel and automotive manufacturing.

And let’s be honest: in this globalized world, where countries trade to stay afloat, slapping on tariffs helps no one. African countries with trade surpluses under AGOA ended up facing disproportionately high tariffs, making their economic situations even worse.

Second, these policies disrupted global supply chains. African businesses, especially those relying on Asian suppliers, now face higher import costs for machinery and electronics due to the U.S.-China trade war. These price hikes meant rerouting global logistics, and let’s not even talk about the currency instability. It’s wild. African currencies were already struggling to stay relevant globally, and these trade tensions only worsened that. Dreams of appreciation? Very much on ice.

Third, investors hate uncertainty—and that’s exactly what tariffs bring. Many projects, especially in commodities and manufacturing, got shelved or delayed in Africa.

But—and here’s where my hot take comes in—some good may have come out of this chaos. The tariffs accelerated intra-African trade integration, especially through the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). The U.S.-China trade war disrupted African exports tied to global supply chains, pushing African leaders to stop depending so much on the outside world and finally prioritize AfCFTA implementation.

Before all this, intra-African trade was just 15%—a joke, really. Now, it’s being positioned as a strategic buffer against global volatility. The AfCFTA Secretariat even described it as a “strategic shield” against external shocks (because God knows Africa is always catching strays from international drama). This urgency led to faster ratification of protocols and more harmonized trade policies.

We’re also seeing countries reorienting their trade flows. South Africa, Kenya, and Nigeria, for example, have been shifting exports toward regional markets to offset U.S. tariff losses. South Africa’s automotive sector is exploring partnerships in North and West Africa, while East African textile producers are focusing more on local demand. The 16th AfCFTA Council of Trade Ministers (April 2025) even fast-tracked negotiations on rules of origin and digital trade frameworks to support this shift.

And investors are starting to notice! Finally! Multinationals are eyeing Africa’s unified markets as an opportunity. Companies like Unilever and Dangote Group have announced plans to expand production hubs in AfCFTA signatory states—1.3 billion consumers is no joke (and neither is the potential profit).

Trump’s policies also boosted South-South cooperation, especially through BRICS initiatives and China-Africa partnerships. The tariffs nudged BRICS countries to explore financial alternatives to Western systems—think cross-border payment systems and local currency settlements (personally, I cannot wait for the day we ditch the dollar and start trading in gold).

South Africa, leveraging its BRICS membership, has positioned itself as a gateway to the AfCFTA, attracting investments in manufacturing and green energy (which, by the way, is the hottest commodity in the world right now).

Even China’s trade game with Africa shifted. With U.S. tariffs hitting Chinese goods, China deepened its agricultural and industrial ties with African countries. In 2024–2025, Nigeria, Tanzania, and Niger opened trade promotion offices in Chinese economic zones, and China expanded duty-free access for 33 African nations. Chinese exports to Africa rose by 11.3% in early 2025—even though African imports to China dropped by 9.4%. Strategic rebalancing, baby.

Oh, and let’s not forget the Global System of Trade Preferences (GSTP)—a South-South pact across 42 countries. Thanks to all this tariff drama, it got a revival. UNCTAD estimates that fully implementing GSTP could bring in $14 billion in shared welfare gains. Not bad at all.

Lastly, African manufacturing and agriculture have been forced to innovate and localize—something we’ve needed to do for the longest time. And honestly, this pressure might be just what we needed. Innovation and localization are key for long-term development, and if Trump had to be the villain that pushed us there... then maybe he really is the necessary evil I said he was.

Next up, we’re diving into the political impacts of these tariffs. Buckle up.

Political Angle

Trump’s “America First” approach has not only impacted Africa’s economic landscape but also significantly altered the political landscape, reshaping political thinking around dependency and promoting a shift toward greater self-reliance and agency. The reduction, or more accurately, the uncertainty of U.S. aid—exemplified by the dismantling of USAID and the suspension of development disbursements—was widely viewed by African leaders as a wake-up call (and a much-needed one, at that). This has reinforced longstanding concerns about over-reliance on foreign assistance and highlighted the need for Africa to chart its own development path. The focus is now on direct investment and fairer trade, rather than perpetual (because, let's be real, the way the West has been trading with Africa is like making a deal with the devil—where Africa gives its whole arm just to get a pinkie finger back).

Additionally, Trump’s transactional, U.S.-centric policies have encouraged African policymakers to assert sovereignty and prioritize homegrown solutions. There is a growing emphasis on intra-African collaboration, regional integration, and leveraging Africa’s own resources and youthful population (which is arguably our greatest advantage over the West and even China—seriously, we literally have the future of tomorrow at our disposal, yet we’re watching it waste away or move abroad to make the West richer. But I digress). This has fuelled a push to drive growth and resilience.

With U.S. engagement now explicitly tied to American interests, African leaders are more actively seeking diversified alliances—not just with the U.S., but with China, Russia, and other global partners. The focus is on partnerships that align with Africa’s long-term vision, rather than dependency on any single external power.

Not only has Trump’s stance and behaviour caused a shift in political thinking across the continent, but it has also brought about a visible change in both policy direction and rhetoric from African leaders. Institutions like the African Union (AU) have emphasized the need for a coordinated, continent-wide response. The AU’s chairperson, Angolan President João Lourenço, and the new AU Commission Chairperson, Mahamoud Youssouf, were urged to convene an extraordinary meeting to deliberate a joint course of action. The focus has shifted toward consolidating a unified U.S.-Africa strategy and leveraging Africa’s collective bargaining power, particularly around critical minerals and market access.

There has also been a clear rhetorical pivot toward reducing dependency on the U.S. and Western markets. Leaders in countries like Nigeria and South Africa have publicly promoted intra-African trade and regional integration, accelerating the implementation of the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) and supporting tools like the Pan-African Payment and Settlement System (PAPSS) to facilitate non-dollar trade. This is seen as both a defensive response to U.S. unpredictability and a proactive step toward economic resilience.

Moreover, various countries across the continent are engaging in diplomatic pushback and policy realignment. In South Africa, President Cyril Ramaphosa has directly responded to U.S. criticisms and aid suspensions by defending domestic policies, such as land reform, while reaffirming the country's constitutional values of justice and equality. South Africa’s foreign and trade ministers have jointly declared that the new tariffs effectively negate the benefits of the African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA), signaling a shift away from reliance on U.S. trade preferences. Meanwhile, Kenyan officials have attempted to maintain a positive outlook, emphasizing their relative competitiveness under the new tariffs and reaffirming their commitment to the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). Other countries like Morocco and Egypt are exploring bilateral deals and targeted concessions with the U.S., while Madagascar and Mauritius are leveraging diplomatic channels and seeking new markets in Europe, Asia, and the Gulf. Many African nations are actively deepening ties with China, the EU, Gulf states, and other emerging partners, viewing the current situation as an inflection point for broader diversification and strategic autonomy. This shift is not only reflected in public statements but also in concrete policy moves aimed at reducing exposure to U.S. trade shocks.

Not to mention, Trump’s behaviour has ignited a surge of Pan-African solidarity and a renewed urgency to revisit—and break free from—the colonial-era trade structures. However, while these political shifts and diplomatic realignments are significant, the real test lies in how they affect the everyday lives of Africans. To truly understand the full impact of these changes, it's essential to look at how people on the ground are responding, adapting, and pushing for progress.

People-on-the-Ground Angle

So, we’ve discussed Trump’s tariffs from the big-picture economic and political perspectives, but let’s take a step back and ask: What about the people on the ground? How have these tariffs affected their lived experiences? After all, they’re the ones who truly matter—no matter what your government might tell you.

Small business owners, farmers, and informal traders in Africa—especially in sectors like agriculture—were among the hardest hit by the shifts caused by Trump’s tariffs and trade policies (and, honestly, are we surprised?). The loss of duty-free access to the U.S. market, through programs like AGOA, meant small-scale producers, many of whom are based in rural areas and often women-led, now faced even steeper barriers to exporting (as if the barriers they already face weren’t enough).

They’re now forced to compete with global players who have the resources to absorb higher shipping and compliance costs. Meanwhile, these small businesses risk losing hard-won market access. This uncertainty has made long-term planning nearly impossible, threatening years of progress in integrating smallholders into commercial supply chains. On top of that, many rural communities, heavily dependent on exports to the U.S., are now facing immense anxiety. Take South Africa, for example—new tariffs threaten up to 35,000 jobs in the citrus sector alone, putting entire towns at risk of economic collapse.

Increased costs and disrupted logistics made it even harder for emerging farmers and small businesses to secure volumes, maintain cold chains, and meet export standards. Without investment in critical infrastructure like packhouses and transport, their competitiveness has been further eroded. As a result, some smallholders have begun advocating for greater control over the value chain—think local processing and seed banking—to reduce dependence on volatile export markets and build resilience against global shocks.

Meanwhile, a narrative has been emerging across Africa, summed up by the proverb “When elephants fight, the grass suffers.” This phrase perfectly captures how Africa, as a smaller player, bore the brunt of trade wars between major powers like the U.S. and China. The narrative underscored Africa’s vulnerability to decisions made by external powers and highlighted the urgent need for greater self-determination.

Frustration with unfair trade practices has been a common theme. Many pointed out the asymmetry and perceived unfairness of the new tariffs, especially since they targeted value-added African exports while sparing raw materials—essentially an attempt to keep Africa stuck at the bottom of the value chain. Workers, small business owners, and exporters felt abandoned by the West as Trump’s tariffs abruptly ended longstanding preferential trade arrangements like AGOA, threatening jobs and livelihoods and deepening economic uncertainty. This left sectors like textiles and agriculture, which were heavily reliant on U.S. market access, reeling from a severe setback.

At the same time, the crisis also sparked a sense of urgency and empowerment among African leaders, unions, and civil society. The shock galvanized calls for Pan-African unity, regional integration, and economic self-reliance, with renewed momentum behind initiatives like the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). The dominant narrative became one of turning adversity into opportunity—using the external challenge as a catalyst to build a more resilient, self-determined Africa, less dependent on Western markets.

Conclusion

At this point, I probably sound like a broken record, but honestly, this crisis might just be the opportunity we didn’t know we needed. It’s a chance for us to stop crying over spilt milk and start rewriting our story—as a continent and as an economic force. It’s time we stop waiting on the West to validate our progress or define our path. Instead, let’s stand up, take charge, and shape our future the way we want.

Now, I’m not naive—I know this whole situation is a massive slap in the face. But maybe the best way to slap back is to rise above it. To break the barriers that have been placed around us. To prove that this isn’t the end of the road. Sure, we may be in a ditch right now, but we’re not staying here. We can and will climb out.

And honestly? I’m hopeful. The tides are shifting across the continent, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re not just talking about potential—we're moving. We’re learning, adapting, pushing back, and pushing forward. We’re capable of so much more than the world gives us credit for.

Anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts—am I being delusional, or is this actually the push we needed?