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"Decolonizing the University in Africa" published on by Oxford University Press.

This article argues for a reframing of the curriculum within the academy in order to make the academy more inclusive and more accessible to a diverse student body. Reframing the curriculum is seen as an aspect of decolonizing the university. Many questions emerge from this argument to include the following: What curriculum informs the education contemporary learners receive and how do they apply this to their academic and work lives? How do educators re-fashion their work as educators and also as learners to create more relevant understandings of what it means to be human and to determine what is human work? What are the limits and possibilities of visions of and counter and anti-visions to contemporary education? How do educators and learners challenge colonizing and imperializing relations within the academy and that influence the academy and its learners? How does curriculum become inclusive through teaching, research and graduate training and how does it make space for Indigeneity and multi-centric ways of knowing? How do we frame an inclusive, anti-racist, and anti-colonial global future and what is the work that is required to collectively arrive at that future? These complex questions, stimulated by my decolonizing curriculum work and experience, are engaged through the body of this article.

The University is at a crossroads. It has been resistant to social change throughout its different histories in different parts of the world. Yet it has also changed considerably over the years. It has been subject to influence from both internal and external forces and continues to be so today, also being a site of conflict as with any other institution. I would argue that it is caught up in the struggle for hegemony, certainly in Western countries, but also beyond. This brings to the fore interesting subversive practices which are part and parcel of the struggle for renegotiation of relations of hegemony. I would also argue that the widely diffused models of universities are those reflecting the interests of hegemonic forces which are often at odds with the interests of subaltern groups or nations some of whom, at various historical times, sought to decolonise in particular ways – Julius Nyerere's speeches and policies, for the University of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, come to mind. People in western and non-western parts of the globe seek to reimagine and provide signposts for re-negotiating hegemonic university relations through subversive practices both within and outside the precincts of the established universities. In the latter case, they do so through the emergence of alternative spaces and institutions with subaltern interests at heart. In the former case, they engage in action 'in and against' established institutions. The alternative spaces can be sporadic (e.g. sitins and sit-outs, occupy movements with alternative libraries and tent learning) or of longer duration (e.g. the Cooperative University network in the UK). ; N/A

When the #RhodesMustFall movement called for the decolonization of the university curriculum in South Africa in 2015, academics were soon under pressure to begin to explore various ways to go about beginning such a complex process. One possible approach to this would be to explore whether Afrofuturism could practically liberate the mind towards addressing any forms of cognitive injustice that students may experience as a result of a colonized curriculum, and in what ways it might do so. A literature review has found a paucity of empirical research exploring ways in which a film that employs Afrofuturism could be used to advance the decolonization project in teaching and learning practices in South African higher education. This article aims to contribute to this discourse through a case study which attempted to uncover the attitudes and emotions of a group of students who, after viewing the film Black Panther, which employs Afrofuturism, were or were not, able to make sense of and/or re-imagine their identities and relationships with others in the context of Afrofuturism, and to what extent. The article thus reports on a case study at a university of technology (UoT) in South Africa in which the film was used to attempt to advance the idea of Afrofuturism in the university curriculum and to uncover the lived experiences, social realities and ideas of self/identity of particular students from marginalized communities.

I dwell here on my own experience of working at Cambridge University for methodological reasons. Anthropologists could make more of the humanities tradition of going deeply into particular personalities, places, events and relations in search of wider truths. Ethnography exemplifies this, but the discipline's assimilation into the social sciences and academic bureaucracy counteract this impulse. I draw selectively on my anthropological education and academic work to interrogate the political relationship between western societies and their former colonies. Cambridge University is reactionary for sure, but its decentralized organization makes room for a minority sometimes to change the world. The historical example of the abolition movement illustrates this. Anthropology ought to be a way of rethinking the world, and I conclude with how and why I introduced students to the anti-colonial intellectuals who did just that when they led the liberation (not 'decolonization') movements that overthrew European empires.

This panel was made possible by the collaborative efforts of editors of Junctions and an intern from Transmission in Motion, both spaces being initiatives by Utrecht University. While emerging from independent curiosities around decolonial thought and practice, specifically related to the movement in the educational sector (more commonly recognised as Decolonizing the Curriculum, a subset of Decolonizing the University movement) this collaborative panel aims to have as starting point the ideology, better articulated Walter D. Mignolo and Catherine E. Walsh, as a relational practise which requires the recognition of one's position as their entry point. In their words (2018), decolonial thinking and practice embodies (or should embody) situatedness, "…the ways that different local histories and embodied conceptions and practices of decoloniality, including our own, can enter into conversations and build understandings that both cross geopolitical locations and colonial differences and contest the totalizing claims and political-epistemic violence of modernity" (Walsh and Mignolo 2018, 1). We understand this as a way to contextualise decolonial theory and practice within educational spaces in the Netherlands, so as not to risk transforming it into an empty metaphor. To contextualise theory and practice also requires an understanding of how Decolonial Work is spoken about and practised in specific institutional spaces. With that in mind, we invited Layal Ftouni, Toni Pape and Rolando Vazquez Melken to discuss the limits of what we allow ourselves to think, talk, imagine, make and do in relation to the discourse of decolonization.

Knowledge producers of Romani ethnicity, like the people to whom they belong, both inside and outside normative frameworks governing development modes and the transmission of knowledge, are hampered profoundly by three fundamental ethical credentials of being: the power to say, the power to act, and the power to collect their own lives into a comprehensible and acceptable story. Due to an historical process of epistemological alienation which appeared with the Enlightenment, it has been impossible for Romani subjects to have as their duty, their responsibility to the world, the power to act. Through a "Foucauldian archaeology" on Romani iconography in the Louvre and Prado collections, and using as a methodologicalpresupposition historical and epistemological decolonial thought, this paper will try to advance the understanding of the genealogy of abnormativity by referring to the study of the Romani motifin the arts. The analysis of the pictographic treatment allows us to understand how those "topoi" responded to religious, ethical-moral, and geopolitical imperatives of majority society in a dialectic that oscillates between formal presence and ontological absence from the fifteenth to nineteenth centuries. The arrival of the Roma in fifteenth-century Europe, in full epistemological caesura, between a dying hermeneutic age and the age of the nascent cogito, conditions a radical change in the consideration of Romani alterity. Indeed, this alteration of the Romani alterity experience by mainstream societies constitutes a paradigmatic example of epistemicidiary structural dynamics and idiomicidiaries born of the slime of "historical modernity".

This article has grown out of ongoing conversations, critical reflections and practical attempts at decolonizing anthropology at Cambridge. We begin with a brief account of recent efforts to decolonize the curriculum in our department. We then consider a few key thematic debates relating to the project of decolonizing the curriculum. First, we interrogate some consequences of how the anthropological 'canon' is framed, taught and approached. Second, we ask how decolonizing the curriculum might subtend a broader project towards epistemic justice in the discipline and the university at large. Third, we reflect on the necessity of locating ethics and methodology at the heart of ongoing conversations about anthropology and decoloniality. We conclude by reflecting on the affective tensions that have precipitated out of debate about the 'uncomfortable' relationship between anthropologists as intellectual producers at the 'cutting edge' of the canon, and the discipline's rife colonial residues.

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Abstract
A public debate about the social status of women accompanied the emergence of mass politics in Morocco after World War II. The Arabic-language press argued that true sovereignty required the liberation of the kingdom's female citizens from the shackles of tradition. Taking inspiration from developments across the decolonizing world, nationalists promoted women's "rights and duties" to build a "new Morocco" beyond the constraints of French colonialism. State formation became dependent on a profound social transformation. Following independence in 1956, however, King Mohammed V gradually replaced the public conversation about female emancipation with a narrative that began and ended with the royal palace, thereby constructing a unique version of state feminism that persists today.