Andrea Bohnstedt explains why a book is good for your head and SMS English may be bad for your business.

It is not exactly a secret that I spend a lot of time on Facebook – a good 600 people can attest to that. You can look up any number of articles on how it undermines productivity at work, but since I work for myself, I would have to tell myself off, and I usually argue with myself that it's really all research. For work, of course. I write a column. I need inspiration, topics, ideas. So it's entirely excusable.

Recently, I stumbled across a lively debate on a friend's page. However, skimming through the more than 50 comments quickly became a bit of a hair-raising read. Never mind the topic, but few of the people in that discussion could actually string together a sentence. A proper sentence - with correctly, fully spelled words, and punctuation. It was a long, long stretch of sms-style butchered words, spaced with dot-dot-dots. It made my head hurt, and more often than not, it also made little sense. Thinking about it, I was also quite sure that a good number of the contributors were university graduates.

Now I realise that I sound like my grandmother. Both of my grandmothers, in fact – both ladies were sticklers for form. But SMS English is one of my pet hates. Even in an actual SMS, I find it rude if you can't take the time to spell out the words, and if it's not in an SMS, it's really inexcusable. I've told people off for 'nyc tym'-type sentences, and I think vowels are your friend and should be used.

But why should this matter for a business column? Because the ability to write a correct sentence does matter, in business as much as elsewhere, and it matters on several levels.

For starters, I have less confidence in counterparts whose communication is sloppy, because that makes me wonder where else they would be sloppy. But clearly written sentences do not just show effort, diligence and consideration, but also often relate to how well the writer has thought through a topic.

The Economist recently ran an article on mobile phone usage where, in the comments, I have found this very concise summary of what bugs and worries me:

".... today we find many people incapable of putting more than a few basic sentences together. This is potentially very important because it is the ability to engage in complex communications that defines us as a species. The more language that a person has, the more developed their mind is. Without complex and sophisticated language skills, people are effectively trapped in a rather limited world that cannot open up the mind to its full opportunities for creative development."

Obviously it doesn't help to have an educational system where money intended for free primary education goes safari to some unknown destination possibly the same place where the cash for IDPs, and the funds for ARVs, and a good chunk of the CDF money also go to hang out.

I suspect that much of it also has to do with the fact that few people pick up a book. And I don't mean motivational books or get-rich-quick books or self-development books, although that would appear to be the logical genre to pick up for self improvement. I'm talking about seemingly frivolous fiction.

This is the lovely thing about reading fiction: possibly more so than my self-serving excuse for faffing around on Facebook, it is really entirely excusable to get lost in a book. It's good for your head: you get to travel to all places in the world, and to more people's lives than you could ever hope to encounter physically. This does wonders for your creativity.

I remember a discussion with my father (yes, I don't just sound like my grandmothers, but like my parents, too, so 2010 must be the year when I'll finally grow up) when I was around 10 years old, after watching the first movie made of the 'Lord of the Rings'. He told me that reading the book might actually be more rewarding since I'd have to create the characters, the images, and the atmosphere in my head.

I later read the Lord of the Rings several times, through sleepless nights. I think that my love for books was one of the greatest gifts that my parents, who read us a bedtime story every evening until we could read on our own, could have given me. Reading is good for your abstract thinking, it gives you a huge vocabulary, and it gives you a sense for the rhythm of language.

Have a fabulous 2010 with a sprinkling or five of fabulous books!

The culture of donating SWEDOW (Stuff We Don’t Want) to the developing world, particularly Africa, is ill-conceived and highly questionable, says Tukeni Obasi

On April 5 2011, when TOMS Shoes launched its annual “A Day Without Shoes” Campaign, it opened up a whole Pandora’s Box that had only been sealed shut a few weeks earlier about demeaning, feel-good humanitarian programmes that do not thoughtfully and efficiently address real development problems.

In fact, this opposition had started brewing in the days leading up to the “Day without Shoes” as Saundra A of Good Intentions Are Not Enough launched a counter-campaign - “A day Without Dignity”- to denounce the TOMS movement, and calling for Africans, experts and bloggers to make their voices heard.

As over fifty critics and bloggers denounced this movement for its back-door approach to development issues, they also recalled Jason Sadler’s One Million Shirts to Africa campaign as well as World Vision’s 10,000 shirts campaign of weeks and months past.

What do these three projects have in common that makes them so controversial? TOMS shoes was encouraging North Americans to walk barefooted for a day to raise awareness about poor, shoeless people in developing countries. World Vision had organised campaigns to send fake shoes to Africa - so they don’t go to waste - and NFL Superbowl T-shirts to “communities in need”. And in 2010, when Jason Sadler, creator of the IWearYourShirt.com website, launched his “One Million Shirts to Africa Campaign”, he seemed to have set out to address a real need: the clothing deficit among the poor in Africa.

To deconstruct the philosophy of these projects and the evolution of their objectives, a micro-analysis is necessary. Jason Sadler’s campaign video provides us with a very personal perspective. Jason Sadler had made $83,000 in 2009 advertising shirts for various companies. With a successful career and 365 new shirts, Jason realized that “[he] really [didn’t] need any of [his] old T-shirts” even though he had a wardrobe full of them. This, coupled with his passion for social media advertising, led him to initiate the One Million T-shirt campaign, calling for people to send their old T-shirts which will then be shipped to Africa because “different countries, different villages, different towns, they all need shirts; some people only have half a shirt to their name and some children don’t have a shirt at all.”

This narrative reveals conventional media stereotypes, long-propagated and constantly reproduced, of naked/poorly-clothed Africans, and of Africa as one vast geographic space that houses all the naked people of the world. But more importantly, it reveals the origin of the problem Jason Sadler is trying to address. In fact, the video situates us at the birthplace of the need - Jason’s wardrobe.

It becomes clear that it wasn’t primarily a need for shirts in Africa, but a need for space in his own wardrobe and a lack of need for his old shirts. The trajectory shows a media entrepreneur who becomes successful, finds himself suddenly laden with more shirts than he bargained for, and then comes up with a supposedly clever, have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too way to remedy the situation.

So while Africans are pointing out that Sadler’s Africa doesn’t have an upper class with more clothes than the average American, doesn’t have a third of the world’s natural resources, doesn’t have a textile market where clothes made by Africans are bought and sold; and that his Africa is a shirtless vacuum waiting for over-achieved Americans with a wardrobe of shirts they don’t need to fill it up, they miss the trajectory and the blueprint that has become a framework for aid agencies and companies like TOMS.

At the core of this campaign is a culture of donating SWEDOW (Stuff We Don’t Want) to the developing world, particularly Africa. And the real direction and ownership of this “need” becomes questionable. For the “need” doesn’t start from the voices of people in a local community. It starts from a surplus of SWEDOW and an ill-conceived “constructive” approach to dispose of them, an approach which puts its author in the spotlight, presenting him/her/it as a do-gooder, encouraging fellow dumpers not to think constructively about poverty, inequality or over-consumption, and presenting the shipping of Gifts-in-Kind (GIK) as the magic wand which will solve the developing world’s problems. In TOMS’ case, it starts from a shoe company trying to boost its image and sales by making consumers feel like they are saving the world.

The economic ramifications are also questionable: what does the shipment of one million “free” shirts do to both the developed (donor) and developing (recipient) economies? By creating an outlet for SWEDOW, it sustains over-consumption in developed societies, benefiting their textile manufacturers. At the same time, it stifles demand for local textiles and depresses the prices of locally-produced goods in the receiving economies and communities, whose interests are supposedly paramount.

A repeated pattern hinders the ability of Africans to innovate and to sustain their own development initiatives. Rather, the community becomes a dumping ground for used T-shirts and other sometimes useless commodities, all in the name of charity. Not to mention the costs of packaging and distributing these shirts to the “communities in need”, when that money could have been put to better use in those communities. Furthermore, the message this kind of aid ultimately conveys is: you deserve nothing more than our used shirts/handouts.

In most “donate gifts to Africa” campaigns, one can almost perceive the dilemma of the actor-activist: “(I want to feel like) I’m doing something good and rally people around my cause” versus “Something good is being done even though I am not the central actor”. It gets one wondering: is this really about economic and human development, or more about the actor’s image and cause? Even where these campaigns are well-intentioned, it has become obvious that policies matter; that good intentions may not be enough and sometimes actually do more harm than good.

So what should Jason have done? First, he should have listened to the people on the ground in Africa. He should have listened to the opinions of young people, women, leaders in Africa, the real people whose livelihoods he wanted to improve, in order to understand their long term needs and respond in a more realistic and sustainable way. Aid activists and NGOS need to start listening – and to listen better.

If he had listened, Jason as a social media person, could also have used his platform to aid the poor in Africa in a more constructive and enduring way. For example, he could feature local African entrepreneurs and local shirt makers, and that way encourage people to “buy African” and invest in African economies. Several for-profit companies have already adopted this approach and are promoting local entrepreneurship and business initiatives in various communities in Africa.

Where does that leave us Africans and Diasporans? While calling these demeaning and unintelligent projects out, we must continue to probe ourselves and make sure we are not ‘slacktivists’. If World Vision and TOMS and Sadler are giving us things we don’t want, the questions we must ask ourselves are: What then do we want? What exactly do we need? And how can these needs be effectively addressed? How do we grow our own economies in ways other than by accepting used clothes and shoes?

We must continue to engage in intellectual discussions about and share knowledge and best practices that will make our societies progress. We must invest in our own economies and our own industries. We must play a vital role in Africa’s progress, changing the SWEDOW narrative to an Africa-by-Africans narrative. For in the final analysis, improvements in quality of life in Africa will come not through international charity, but by African agency –by local initiatives in invention, production and human development.

When it comes to Africa, asks Andrea Bohnstedt, why do the rock stars and do-gooders think the normal rules of business do not apply.

Time for a rockstar update, I think.

Because this could indeed be the last stage of evolution, the one where pigs do finally fly: Right there in front of me, on the pages of the Financial Times, was Bob Geldof's transmogrification from charity fund raiser to investment fund raiser: Together with two proper finance people, the Bobster aims to raise US$750m for his '8Mile' Africa private equity fund. What next? He will get a haircut? Hell will freeze over?

I shouldn't snipe because I have always argued that those rockstars should get their heads out of their charity tunnel vision on Africa and try to understand that, just like anywhere else, business happens here, too. And also invest rather than donate.

My friend Miles – who has happily and profitably invested in sub-Saharan Africa for many years, thankyouverymuchwithchips – had this to say: 'For twenty-five years he has enraged African businessman and made it difficult for them to attract investment by telling the world that Africa was a basket case. Now, ten years after Africa became one of the fastest growing and most promising regions of the world he has realised that investment, not charity, is what Africa needs. Those of us who have been making good returns for many years by investing there are delighted that he is joining us.' Snap!

Obviously Mr Geldof wasn't the first to discover African private equity – these days, you can't set foot in any of the sleeker Nairobi bars without stumbling over a private equity person or two, common as muck really, and even all those 'social investment' people want to come and play with the pin-stripe suited big kids. It's almost like microfinance: Must. Do. Something. About. Africa. But better late than never, I say

Bono, the other hallowed saviour of the continent ('what's the difference between god and Bono? God doesn't think he's Bono') is also a partner in a private equity fund, Elevation Partners. Their website says that they invest in the media and entertainment industry. Not in Africa, though, it seems – maybe Bono was too busy hitching lifts on Mo Ibrahim's jet and just didn't have the time to look at the exciting and award-winning start-ups in Kenya's tech industry. But it's not as if he hadn't tried his hand at Africa business at all.

Together with his wife Ali Hewson, he launched Edun, an ethical clothing company, in 2005. I stumbled over Ali Hewson and Edun recently when their efforts to have school children in Kibera design t-shirts - child labour, anyone? - were covered in a newspaper article. Since then, the census data have taken much of the poverty glamour off Kibera as it turned out that there are considerably fewer people than the always cited one million in Africa's most notorious slum.

But back to Edun: The Wall Street Journal just helpfully pointed out that Edun, founded to do sustainable fashion and revive the apparel industry in Africa, had in fact just relocated most of its production to China. Now how did that happen? The authors say that despite its ambitious beginnings, Edun quickly ran into problems with low-quality and late production, and sales deteriorated. While initially hundreds of retailers had stored the brand, last year only 67 were left.

The WSJ article is a delight, full of the most fantastic little gems. When production quality was unsatisfactory, the company once “hosted a party in the dark ... to draw attention away from the clothes.” Ali Hewson, the article cites her, was ''naive' about what it took to build a fashion brand: 'We focused too much on the mission in the beginning.'”

But my favourite is possibly this section: “Ms. Hewson says she considered pulling the plug; the couple consulted with friends like Jeffrey Sachs, the Columbia University economist, who encouraged them to stick with the project. “We felt if we failed it would be a double failure. We'd be saying, 'We can't do this,' and then other companies would go, 'Well, see? We've always known that,'" Ms. Hewson says.”

No honey. This may come as a rude shock to you, but serious business doesn't actually look towards Bono and wife for practical instruction and guidance on the apparel industry in Africa. And taking advice from Mr Sachs, the man who is practically incontinent in his demands for more aid: is that sensible strategy?

So let me recap: They had a nice idea with lots of fluff about organics and ethics and sustainability, but little concept of how to build a fashion brand as a business. And, I deduct from the article, were not hands-on enough to control the production process. They take advice from Jeffrey Sachs. This business would have failed anywhere in the world. But they think that it's ok to just rock up in Africa with such a half-baked concept and expect to succeed? Because it says Africa on the tin?

I can't wait for the day when people buy goods and services not because they are, tug heartstrings, from Africa, but simply because they are really good. Manufacturing here isn't easy, we all know that. But it's possible. If you apply yourself to it.

Edun has since sold 49% of the company to luxury conglomerate LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton for about US$7.8m, and has hired a new CEO, Janice Sullivan. Ms Sullivan is quoted saying: "So you can see how this brand, in the wrong hands, could go haywire." Indeed.

And Bono might want to stick to the day job: AltAssets write that Bono was recently named as the worst investor in the US by financial blog 24/7 Wall St, which refers to Elevation as “arguably the worst institutional fund of any size in the United States", which has made “an unprecedented string of disastrous investments which even bad luck could not explain".

Unless we learn that true leadership does not come from always trying to set oneself above society, today's generation will repeat the mistakes of their predecessors, says Tukeni Obasi.

Growing up as kids, we face all lot of pressure from our peers and society in general. As we progress into our teen years, these pressures continue to rise: pressure to be cool, to look cool, to act cool, to stay cool, and to do cool stuff.

After high school, the pressure doesn't go away. There come the parties and the night life, the spring breaks and weekend getaways, the shopping sprees, the Blackberries and PS3s and the next thing on the must-have list.

Some of us end up having to starve ourselves in order to be able to afford that expensive dress to wear to that party. Others end up borrowing money from friends or people they can 'use' just to be able to live the extravagant life that being cool demands of them.

Luckily or unluckily for some of these people, their hard work does not go unnoticed and they are accepted into the mainstream cool family. To be sure, there are people of means, people who do not need to borrow or beg or starve or lie in order to lead the extravagant lives they lead, people who spend more money in a week than some people earn in a year. But this money goes to living a life of class, setting oneself above one's peers, being 'the biggest boss'.

Now let's reverse, cross the Atlantic, back up into the African continent. Every now and then, one governor or local government chairman or public official or another is being charged with embezzling large sums of government money. And once this leader is exposed, many of the citizens regard him with contempt and call him all sorts of names and some people can't seem to wrap their heads around why people in office embezzle money instead of using it for the common good of society.

I'll tell you why.

If you've made it your life's ambition to boss, you constantly want to show everyone around you that you are doing just that and thus that you are superior to them. So, when the next politician becomes the local government chairman, instead of trying to get himself acquainted with the challenges facing the development of his community, he wants to show the rest of the local government that he is superior to them, and his quality of life is better.

His wife needs to travel abroad and adorn herself with the most expensive jewelry so that the villagers will know that levels have changed. His children need to go to the most expensive schools because since when did they start attending the same schools as commoners?

If he is more fortunate and wins the gubernatorial elections or becomes a minister, we should be looking at a lot of property, houses in the U.K and in the U.S, fat bank accounts, SUVs, Hummers, talk-of-the town parties etc. His children, of course, also need to be abroad, wearing the latest designer clothes, and generally bossing like their parents. And at the end of the day, the real needs of the society are ignored. Many people in the state remain uneducated and continue to live in abject poverty, but then again what's that to a boss?

Back to us: university undergraduates, graduates about to enter the labour force, freshmen in the labour force. We who used to be leaders of tomorrow are now leaders of a day that is about to break and many of us are still struggling to be bosses and live lives worthy of acknowledgement and respect by our peers.

This means that when we assume positions of office and perchance we do not have the wherewithal to keep up to the demands of being a society man or lady, we will borrow and steal from society; we will do whatever it takes to continue bossing, placing ourselves above people who need our help the most and ignoring the real needs of our society.

Of course, the pressure doesn't really go away, does it? It starts from one time and graduates into a habit and, before we know it, we are robbing the system which we were entrusted to protect. And so, many of us will become guilty of the same crimes that many leaders are getting indicted for. Thus the cycle of corruption continues, with the bosses going harder and the poor people getting poorer.

At the end of the day, our society will be no better than we met it - unless of course we learn to start living for ourselves; unless we learn that true bossing does not come from always trying to set oneself above society but trying to relate to it.

By being sensitive to the needs of those around and being content with whatever resources we have, no matter how small, we will not only lead happier lives but more purpose-driven ones at that. And if only half of our youth begin to think and live their lives this way, then I am sure that this new day heralds a new beginning and that corruption is well on its way to being rooted out for good.

Why does Bill Gates, a man clearly so talented in doing business, in earning money, decide that The Poor must be helped through charity, asks Andrea Bohnstedt

He is the ultimate geek done good: Bill Gates. Chairman of Microsoft, Master of the Universe, one of the richest men in the world, with a personal wealth of an estimated USD60bn.

That is, roughly, twice Kenya’s 2008 GDP: twice of what all of Kenya produced in one year. Or, if you take the 2010/2011 budget, he could finance all of Kenya’s spending for nearly six years. In fact, before the dotcom bubble burst, in 1999, his wealth was estimated at USD100bn. Let’s not quibble over a billion more or less: this is clearly a man who knows how to create products and services, run a business, make money.

And then, I guess, Bill got bored. Or maybe just wanted to try out world domination another way – by being nice. In 2006, he announced that he would only work part-time at Microsoft, and full time at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. By 2007, he and his wife had given an estimated USD27bn to charity. Like his Microsoft success, Bill Gates’ charitable activities are XXXL, too.

By the end of last year, the charity had an endowment of USD33.5bn, and Warren Buffet as a trustee together with Bill and Melinda Gates. The foundation’s status as a charitable organisation requires it to donate at least 5% of its assets every year, i.e. at least around USD1.5m. Just to put this in perspective: The USD800m that the foundation spends under its health programme are roughly equivalent to the entire budget of the UN’s World Health Organisation (WHO).

So, given that there’s much poverty, surely bigger is better? The Guardian recently published an interesting analysis titled 'Inside the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation’ and this was one of the questions that the author pursued. The foundation has quickly become ubiquitous, thanks to both its generous finances and its star power: '’Every conference I go to, they're there. Every study that comes out, they're part of. They have the ear of any [national] leadership they want to speak to. Politicians attach themselves to Gates to get PR. Everyone loves to have a meeting with Gates. No institution would refuse," the author cites a charity professional.

Much of this - star power, access, finances - is good: Fast and unbureaucratic spending decisions, speedier and more flexible than e.g. the UN. The ability to attract co-funding and the best human resources in the market. Private-sector management practices.

But then there are also some less comfortable issues: Complain about the aid agencies for all you want, but they are ultimately – admittedly, often very ultimately – the outcome of a political process in the agency’s home country.

The Gates Foundation, in contrast, is subject to no controls, and the article tellingly describes a meeting of Gates with some of the richest individuals who allegedly refer to themselves as the Good Club and muse how to fix the world. The article also raised the issue that the foundation sometimes invested its endowment in industries and sectors that were seen as detrimental to the poor who the foundation aims to help. The only sector that the endowment cannot be invested in is the tobacco industry, but apart from that it seeks to maximize returns.

I was mulling this 'venture philanthropy’ with the niggling feeling that I had overlooked something. Eventually, I realized what it was: That Bill Gates, a man clearly so talented in doing business, in earning money, decides that The Poor must be helped through charity.

This bifurcation has preoccupied me for a while: People who have been wildly successful in their career in the north will not bring that talent to developing countries. Instead, they bring charity, turning Africa into a theme park for good intentions.

Bono and Geldof don’t play African concert tours. They collect donations for Africa, but don’t seem to invest in plain old boring regular companies around here. Bono’s wife runs an ethical clothing company that will get Kibera school kids (because it’s gotta be Kibera, right?) to design t-shirts. Why doesn’t she invest in mass production of regular t-shirts? After he sold Celtel to MTC, Mo Ibrahim has set up a private equity fund, Satya Capital, but makes more headlines with his Mo Ibrahim Foundation. Why can’t Bill Gates bring his immense business talent to, well, business?

If the Gates Foundation prides itself on doing things a different way, it still does not challenge the aid industry as such: it gives grants to intermediary foundations, many of whom represent the business-as-usual of the aid industry and the illusion of the fixability of single issues. And charity is limited, as the article points out: 'For all the charity's resources and connections, for all the attendant risks of over-confidence and over-mightiness, on the ground in Africa or Asia the foundation's immense-sounding grants are a miniscule fraction of what is required to create a fairer world.’

In contrast, a successful business has no such limit. Microsoft is everywhere. It pays taxes for governments to fund their own healthcare system. Employs people so that they can buy their own mediation.

Really now, Bill – I had expected more!

Do-gooding rock stars are costing Africa more in business than their fundraising efforts are worth, says Andrea Bohnstedt.

'You can't argue with the figures!' A friend who had bemusedly followed my aversion to badly dressed rock stars appointing themselves to the already overcrowded position of Saviour of Africa decided it was time to get serious: Bono's 'Project Red' had raised more than US$135m for the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria, he threw down the challenge.

I practically argue for a living, though, and this was mere entry level: US$135m looks like a good chunk of money, but only until you put it in perspective: It's roughly what Safaricom pays in taxes in two years. One company, in one country. And not unlike the money collected by the Kenya Revenue Authority, a fair bit of the money disbursed by the Global Fund also gets diverted to people it wasn't originally intended for: Uganda's well connected had a good jolly with the cash in 2005 (and in piece of supreme irony, money allocated to investigate the stolen Global Fund cash has also gone safari.

Kenya has just lost out on another funding round for similar reasons. Hey, you'll say. Don't be such a witch, don't knock good intentions. Surely some of it will go to a good purpose, no?

But consider for a second the PR price that 'Africa' has to pay for this handful of dollars.

I'd be quite happy for Bono and Angelina Jolie and the like to stay right where they are and keep quiet. So Project Red's massive media campaigns, celebrity visits or events such as LiveAid may raise awareness, but of what? Of a continent lumped together as one entity, full of needy poor people? Will that get anyone out to do business?

At best, it will send yet more people to the global 'Doing Something About Africa' industry and the donor and charity theme park it has created across the continent, breeding ever more absurd initiatives like 'Underwear for Africa' and 'Bras for Africa' (not related, though, so don't hold your breath for co-ordinated underwear sets) and even teddy bears collected by Canadian teenage beauty queens and US recycled hotel soap to be shipped to Ugandan refugees?

The New York Times' Freakonomics blog has a piece about 'African entrepreneurs' that readers appreciated as 'heartwarming' but what a non-profit hospice has to do in there is a mystery to me. As is the question why an article on African entrepreneurs doesn't bother with at least a nod to the big boys like Dangote, Ramaphosa and Mo Ibrahim (in his previous incarnation). Not heartwarming enough? Pinstriped suits, glass-tabled board rooms, vast number of jobs created, sums paid in taxes too boring, too familiar, too much like, perhaps, the rest of the business community around the globe?

In contrast to this cute effort to train refugees in camps for outsourced jobs , Nick Nesbitt's KenCall makes less discernable efforts to be heartwarming – but employs and trains more people, and pays more taxes, and doesn't depend on donations to expand.

To come back to my starting point: When Bono starts playing a couple of concerts across the continent, when he makes music with his peers like the delightful Paul Simon did with the beautiful Graceland album and concert , when he invests in a couple of companies around here, then I'll listen to him again. In the meantime, I'll go about my business.

Efforts to tackle HIV/AIDS in Africa are being undermined by the African movie industry, says Nigerian Tukeni Obasi.

The African movie industry especially Nollywood and Ghollywood has become a source of pride to many Africans.

With a relatively small percentage of the Africans having access to satellite television, Nollywood/Ghollywood have become an easy source of entertainment for many Nigerians and other Africans with video clubs in every corner and cheaply-priced film houses replacing the village square in some rural areas.

Some satellite TV stations in Africa even show African movies especially Nollywood and Ghollywood movies. Someone once said that the movie industry was an example of how every industry in Africa should be: produced in Africa, consumed by Africans. I remember meeting people from other countries in Africa who on hearing I was Nigerian would immediately say, "Oh I love your movies; we watch your movies in our country". And a sense of pride would overwhelm me.

But lately, this pride has turned into shame and concern.

Today, "Kiss me if you can", " Heart of men" and similar movies have become household names starring famous Nollywood and Ghollywood sensations like Jackie Appiah, Mercy Johnson, and Majid Michael. Educated and uneducated youth have seen their stars assume numerous sex positions, engage in threesomes and openly embrace promiscuity. This has taken our culture by surprise but has faced little opposition as many believe that promiscuity is now "cool". The director of one of the movies said he was simply responding to the needs of the market.

My question: what market?

The African continent has been the hardest hit by the HIV/AIDS pandemic with 75% of all AIDS deaths in 2005 being in Africa. Interestingly enough, the main driver of infection in Accra is commercial sex. In fact, 80% of HIV infections in young men had been acquired from women who sell sex.

Elsewhere, the figures are less impressive. Swaziland (which now faces an existential threat due to the spread of the virus) has an average life expectancy of 32 years; Angola and Lesotho both have an average life expectancy of 38 years. Lesotho is also believed to be facing extinction. Tanzania has 1.5 million people living with HIV, Ethiopia has 1.4, Kenya has 1.1 and Nigeria has a whopping 3 million. Of course, there is the Ugandan quintessential success story, a story of government's timely intervention to combat the spread of the disease and the provision of primary health care and sex education and awareness programs which led to a drop in promiscuity and unprotected sex and consequently a drop in overall rates.

While this underscores the role governments need to play in society to address this problem, it also highlights the role played by culture, education and societal norms in either the spread or prevention of the spread of the virus. Just a few years ago, Former President Thabo Mbeki of South Africa and President Mugabe of Zimbabwe suggested that HIV-AIDS was caused by poverty rather than sex.

Many Africans especially in the rural areas who have no formal education and do not even receive a basic sex education would not have known better. Superstitions and lies such as "sex is the only way to get rid of pimples", "sex is the only way to gain respect" have spread like wildfire and misled people into promiscuity without making them understand the repercussions of their actions. And now, the movie industry has joined the crusade.

HIV/AIDS has brought anything but good news to anyone directly or indirectly affected by it. Many people end up dying from simple complications not long after they get the virus due to lack of basic healthcare. Many children are left orphaned further reducing their chances of acquiring any formal education as they have to fend for themselves. Sometimes, these children end up going into the sex market to make a living. And the cycle continues. Needless to say, the demand for adequate and accessible health care, anti-retroviral drugs, HIV awareness programs has remained largely unmet. This market, which plays no small role in our productivity, our survival and our very redemption, has been ignored.

So, I ask: Nollywood, Ghollywood, Afrowood, please stop leading our youth astray. The message of promiscuity is not one they need to hear. AIDS is real and it kills and promiscuity provides no remedy.

You are turning the industry into one that is produced by Africans and then consumes them. And you have ignored the needs of the real market by promoting a market that will destroy us, one that will take hold of our lives and snuff it out of us.

So, please do me a favour: give me my pride back.