What is left for the diasporic African is the task, ‘to forge a sense of self from wildly disparate sources,’ in this uncomfortable space of cultural ‘otherness’, what Selasi describes as being ‘lost in transnation’. Being African to this generation, according to Selasi, means transcending the stereotypes and media representations of hunger, war, and poverty, yet it carries a sense of shame for not identifying purely with one’s parents’ culture, a culture depicted as ‘less advanced’. Selasi notes prominent figures such as Claude Gruzintsky and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie as part of the ‘twenty-first century African’ whose distinguishability is the willingness to engage with, critique and celebrate the parts of Africa that mean most to them.Ī prominent feature here is the rejection of essentialism the Afropolitan values through comprehending what is failing in Africa while simultaneously honouring what is unique. The original diasporic individual sought security in traditional professions whereas their children, the first-generation immigrants, redefined what it was to be African in the twenty-first century by branching into fields of media, politics and music. By 1987 this number had nearly doubled, with people migrating predominately to the popular destinations of Canada, Britain, and the United States of America, and some on scholarship, a result of Cold War politics, to areas like Poland and Germany. Approximately 27,000 skilled Africans departed for the West between 19 and 40,000 between 19. Selasi traces the genealogy of the Afropolitan to the 1960s when young and gifted Africans left the continent in pursuit of higher education and happiness abroad due to the unrest and uncertainty during the decolonisation process. We are Afropolitans – not citizens, but Africans, of the world.’ Then there’s the G8 city or two (or three) that we know like the backs of our hands, and the institutions (corporate, academic) that know us for our famed work ethic. There is at least one place on the Continent to which we tie our sense of self: be it a nation-state (Ethiopia), a city (Ibadan), or simply an Auntie’s kitchen. Most of us are multilingual: in addition to English and a Romantic language or two, we understand some indigenous language(s) and speak a few urban vernaculars. Ghanaian/Jamaican, Nigerian/Swiss others are merely cultural mutts: American accent, European affect, African ethos. ‘… our funny blend of London fashion, New York jargon, African ethics, and academic success. Drawing on her personal experience of diaspora – being of Ghanaian-Nigerian descent, born in Britain and raised in America she also lived in multiple European cities including Berlin and Rome – she characterises the Afropolitan as someone you will know when you see based on: Playing on the line actor Eddie Murphy delivers in the feature film Coming to America, Selasi not only draws attention to the widespread concept of Africa fabricated by Western thinkers and media but also to the present globalised state of the world. The origins of the term ‘Afropolitan’ have been traced back to an article originally published in the LIP Magazine edition of March 2005 by Taiye Tuakli-Wosornu, now Taiye Selasi, titled ‘Bye-bye, Babar (Or: What Is an Afropolitan?)’. This piece will trace Afropolitanism’s genealogy, focusing on the vanguards of the notion as well as its shortcomings. The neologism, a recent one at that, is continuously in the process of being defined and redefined as supporters and critics alike challenge the epistemology and value given to it. Afropolitanism has evolved from a rubric for describing an individual’s transnational identity to a phenomenon that accounts for the political, social, cultural, and economic spheres of an individual and community with African heritage.

In retrospect meaning