CAJ Intl Mag

The new MoU between the Government of Liberia and WFP sets a clear direction: move school feeding to national ownership by 2028. But direction is not delivery. At the signing, officials celebrated expanded monitoring and “increased financing.” What they did not provide were the details that determine whether a child in Maryland or Lofa actually gets lunch next year. There was no published budget figure, no percentage of the 2026 national budget committed, and no guarantee that school feeding will be protected from cuts. Without that, the programme remains vulnerable every time the budget is debated. There was also no new plan for the hardest part of the job: logistics. The School Connect platform will now cover 300+ schools, but the agreement said nothing about trucks, fuel, storage, or the feeder roads that collapse in rainy season. An app can tell Monrovia that a storeroom is empty. It cannot deliver rice to it. Finally, there was no clarity on accountability. WFP noted that the pilot system had already flagged cases of food diversion. The Ministry did not say what happened to those cases, who was held responsible, or how parents and PTAs can report problems and expect action. Technology without enforcement and community oversight risks documenting failure instead of preventing it. Until government publishes the budget, fixes the last mile, and gives communities real power to audit meals, “national ownership” will remain a slogan. The meals that keep children in school depend on more than signatures. The MoU was signed. Now Liberians need to see the money, the trucks, and the consequences.

Obada Oko began as an Owu farm settlement and grew into an industrial gateway in Ewekoro, home to Lafarge, Dangote and thriving businesses like Ololade Mr. Money Hotel and King Ola Frozen Foods. Yet at its heart, the complex junction leading to the dam and "new city area" has become a trap. During rain it turns to mud, during dry season to potholes — cutting off trade, trapping residents, and stalling the community’s growth.

A column by CAJ International Magazine Editor in Chief, Michael Adeboboye where he expresses opinion on diverse issues across continents

Every August, Bujumbura turns into a living museum. For 5 days, the Great Cultural Festival, Umuganuro, brings together Burundi’s 18 provinces, its diaspora, and guests from across Africa. Royal drums thunder in the stadium. Intore dancers spin. Weavers, potters and storytellers fill the grounds. In 2026, the festival marked 15 years since its revival and arrived at a moment of quiet confidence for Burundi: tourism is up, cultural diplomacy is now government policy, and young people are choosing tradition over imitation. This is the story of Burundi’s greatest celebration — where it came from, what it meant in 2026, and where it is headed.

For six years, Bong County sat closer to the center of power than it ever had before. A daughter of Gbarnga served as Vice President of Liberia. A son of the county held the Deputy Speakership. In that rare alignment, the heartland was no longer asking to be remembered, it was being consulted. Roads were paved, classrooms opened, hospitals were equipped, and young people saw their names on government payrolls. It was a period when political arrangement translated into tangible projects across Gbarnga, Fuamah, Salala and beyond. Yet as the country turned toward a new administration, former Vice President Jewel Howard-Taylor is asking a harder question: did Bong protect that moment, or did partisan politics trade it away?

In Somalia, politics lives in two different worlds. In Mogadishu’s Villa Somalia, it is debated in conference rooms over clan formulas and delayed elections. _Hassan Ibrahim, writing for CAJ International Magazine from Mogadishu,_ reports that in Baidoa’s IDP camps, in Bakara Market, and on the road to Jowhar, it is lived as hunger, displacement, and fear. For more than 17 million Somalis, every political fallout between the federal government and member states, every stalled policy, every security vacuum has a human cost. While leaders argue over power, ordinary people pay with empty markets, closed schools, and journeys for water. This is the story of Somalia’s political crisis, told not from parliament, but from the people bearing its weight.

In 2026, The Gambia’s classrooms look different from a decade ago. More children are enrolled, more girls are finishing basic school, and digital tools are slowly entering public schools. Government and partners have invested in free tuition, school feeding, and teacher training. Yet the gains are uneven. Overcrowded classes, teacher shortages, high dropout rates in senior secondary, and a skills mismatch persist. Parents in Brikama and rural Upper River still struggle with hidden costs. As the country pushes toward Vision 2050 and the SDG 4 targets, the question is no longer just access. It is quality, relevance, and what happens after the last bell rings.

When George Weah took office in January 2018, Liberia expected more than politics as usual. A former world footballer turned president, he promised a "Pro-Poor" government focused on roads, education, and jobs. Six years later, his record is debated in markets, campuses, and on radio. Critics point to unmet goals. Supporters point to pavement. From the ELWA-RIA highway to tuition-free college, from keeping the peace through COVID to expanding electricity, the Weah administration left visible marks. This analysis makes the case for those achievements — not as perfection, but as a foundation. Because for many Liberians, progress is measured by what you can finally see, touch, and use.

President Boakai’s suspension of LDEA boss Fitzgerald Biago and nomination of Gen. Daniel Ziankahn was meant to show tough action on drugs. But with $336 million in cocaine seized in one month at RIA and Duazon, many Liberians are skeptical. To them, it looks like another cycle: big bust, reshuffle, then silence. Citizens now say enough is enough. They are demanding real answers, not just press releases, and have issued 4 questions the government must answer publicly before this case vanishes “like night smoke.”