African Name Game and Regulatory Quest for Legitimacy in AI in Eastern Africa - Nelson Otieno

I recently watched a documentary on Namibia. The documentary seemed to suggest, albeit inconclusively, that the Southern African state could be named as Africa’s New Eldorado. Eldorado is a sweet and soothing name which reflects a state with legendary riches. However, there was a subtle but powerful undercurrent of irony in the documentary. While suggesting potential wealth and prosperity (the ‘New Eldorado’ concept), the documentary presented a narrative about post-colonial experiences in the Namibian state, highlighting the gap between economic promise and social reality in Namibia.

In many African cultures, names are far more than mere labels - they are repositories of history, prophecy, social context, and personal narrative. The practice of changing names, is not just a personal quirk but often a complex social and political act. So, the description of the Namibian state got me thinking, rather curiously, about what is in a name. Specifically, I asked myself, “Who has the power to name?” And “What nuances are covered by the name?”

These questions are particularly potent when examined through the lens of digital ID projects. In the African context, digital ID systems are not just technological interventions; they are deeply political acts of recognition, classification, and potentially, control.

Many African governments view digital ID systems as a way to streamline bureaucratic processes, reduce fraud, and create more efficient public service delivery mechanisms. They are adopting AI-powered digital ID technologies to offer better national identification methods. For various political, social and economic reasons citizens in some states which plan digital ID projects have pushed back against their implementation.

To counteract these pushbacks, some African governments use African heritage names for their digital projects. They do so ostensibly to create some sense of cultural resonance, create ownership, reduce perceptions of foreign interests, and reduce resistance by framing them as indigenous solutions.

 

The Appeal of Some African Names in Eastern Africa

The digital ID in Uganda is dubbed Ndaga Muntu. This is a phrase from the Luganda language which means an ‘identity card’. In Kenya, the current initiative for the digital ID is dubbed Maisha Namba. This phrase comes from Swahili, meaning a ‘service number’. The Ethiopian digital ID project is dubbed Fayda, a term borrowed from the local Amharic dialect meaning ‘value and importance’. On its part, the Tanzanian digital ID project is dubbed Jamii Namba, a phrase from Swahili meaning ‘a community number’.

The digital ID projects adopting African names seek to cultivate national pride, celebrate cultural heritage, and create a sense of authenticity. By resonating with local identity, these chosen names aim to make technological initiatives more relevant and meaningful to African communities.

In Rwanda, historical sensitivities surrounding ethnic languages have hindered this approach. In the DRC, the cancellation of a digital ID project has meant that the use of African names has yet to be tested.

 

The Pitfalls of the Name Game

The nomenclature surrounding AI-powered digital ID technologies has often backfired when the public recognizes detrimental effects these innovations have on human rights and societal well-being. Merely renaming a technology does not inherently address its underlying ethical challenges or cultural implications. Like the romanticized myth of Africa's New Eldorado, such semantic shifts can be superficial, obscuring the substantive issues at the core of technological development and its human impact.

Besides being superficial, the African heritage names of digital ID projects in Eastern African countries could mask deeper technological and political complexities. In Uganda and Kenya, the simplistic branding of ‘identity cards’ and ‘Huduma cards’ deliberately obscures the intricate AI technologies underlying these systems. By using such reductive terminology, authorities seek to minimize potential resistance and increase public acceptance. In Tanzania, with its historical socialist background of Ujamaa, the project’s nomenclature of ‘Jamii’ strategically invokes nationalist sentiments, creating an opportunity to leverage political populism as a means of establishing legitimacy.

 

Conclusion

The true legitimacy of digital projects emerges from deep engagement. That is listening intently to people, comprehending their genuine challenges, and constructing digital solutions that meaningfully address their needs. Mere nomenclature can be deceptive - like an attractive package concealing a substandard product.

Renaming initiatives often serves as a cosmetic intervention, masking systemic failures and strategic shortcomings. As African states increasingly navigate the complex landscape of AI regulation, the imperative is clear. States must prioritize substantive progress over symbolic gestures. The vision of ‘the Africa we want’ transcends nominal rhetoric. It demands authentic, people-centered transformation.