Africa’s urban crossroads — political succession, civic unrest and the future of city governance

From Dar es Salaam to Abidjan, Nairobi to Harare, African cities have become the hosts of political vitriol. These urban spaces, dense, youthful, and digitally connected, are where the state meets the street.

The recent post-election violence in Tanzania is a chilling example. In October, protests erupted across Dar es Salaam, Mwanza and Arusha following the exclusion of key opposition candidates. Curfews were imposed, internet access was throttled, and disturbing visuals emerged of citizens vandalising high-value infrastructure stations, airports and government buildings.

This was not an anomaly. It was part of a pattern.

Timeline of urban political violence (1998–2025)

• 1998 – Harare, Zimbabwe: Food riots amid economic collapse;
• 2007–08 – Nairobi, Kenya: Post-election ethnic violence;
• 2010–11 – Abidjan, Ivory Coast: Disputed Ouattara victory;
• 2016–18 – Kinshasa, DRC: Election delays and repression;
• 2019 – Harare, Zimbabwe: Fuel protests and military crackdown;
• 2020 – Kampala, Uganda: Bobi Wine protests;
• 2020 – Lagos, Nigeria: #EndSARS movement;
• 2020–21 – Addis Ababa, Ethiopia: Tigray conflict spills over;
• 2021 – Luanda, Angola: Anti-corruption protests;
• 2023–24 – Dakar, Senegal: Anti-Macky Sall youth protests;
• 2024–25 – Nairobi, Kenya: Gen Z Maandamano protests; and
• 2025 – Dar es Salaam, Tanzania: Election exclusion and civic breakdown.

Political violence and urban governance

Political violence in African cities is not merely a reflection of contested power; it is a spatial expression of systemic dysfunction. Urban unrest reveals itself as both a political and geographic phenomenon, rooted in the structural anatomy of the city itself. African cities, with their dense concentrations of inequality, youth unemployment and highly symbolic state infrastructure, become inevitable theatres of civic confrontation.

The spatial logic of protest is shaped by the urban form: peripheral slums, neglected transport corridors and disenfranchised settlements often serve as launchpads for dissent. These are not accidental geographies; they are the spatial consequences of exclusion.

Demographically, the tension is stark. Africa’s median age hovers below 20, yet its political leadership is dominated by octogenarians. This generational mismatch fuels frustration, particularly in urban areas where young people face acute unemployment and civic marginalisation. The city becomes a canvas for their discontent, and its infrastructure, bridges, parliaments and airports transform from symbols of state authority into targets of symbolic rage.

These are not just physical assets; they are embodiments of broken promises and contested legitimacy. Urban planning, therefore, cannot remain technocratic or apolitical. It must evolve into a discipline that anticipates political risk, embeds civic resilience, and democratises spatial access.

Infrastructure must be conceived not solely for mobility or economic throughput, but as instruments of inclusion, dignity and legitimacy. In this context, political violence is not just a warning; it is a diagnostic tool. It teaches us that governance must be spatially intelligent, generationally responsive and symbolically aware. The future of African cities depends on our ability to read these signs and reimagine urban planning as a form of political stewardship.

Succession, stability and urban governance

Succession politics and the question of regime stability have become defining variables in the governance of African cities. Urban governance, viewed as a technocratic exercise in service delivery and spatial management, should now be inextricably linked to the rhythms of political transition, or the conspicuous absence thereof. Across the continent, cities are absorbing the shockwaves of elite manoeuvrings, constitutional manipulation and generational dislocation.

In Kenya, the death of Raila Odinga in October 2025 has created a seismic vacuum in the political landscape. For decades, Odinga was the gravitational centre of opposition politics, anchoring Nairobi’s political equilibrium. His absence has triggered a scramble for dominance among rival factions, which can potentially destabilise the capital and other cities’ civic coherence and expose their fragile institutional scaffolding. Nairobi, Kisumu, etc, cities long shaped by ethnic coalitions and symbolic protest, could potentially face periods of uncertain recalibration.

Uganda presents a parallel dilemma. President Yoweri Museveni, now 80, has signalled his intent to seek another term despite mounting concerns over his health and political longevity. Kampala, already burdened by informal settlements, youth exclusion and contested land governance, faces heightened risk should succession be mishandled. The city’s spatial tensions, between formal authority and informal resilience, could easily tip into unrest if generational demands are ignored.

In Zimbabwe, President Emmerson Mnangagwa, aged 83, is reportedly backing a campaign to suspend elections after the end of his term in 2028 under the banner of “Vision 2030”. Harare, the epicentre of past civic eruptions, from the 1998 food riots to the 2019 fuel protests, remains a volatile urban theatre. Elite consolidation and factional battles within Zanu-PF risk reigniting urban dissent, particularly as economic pressures mount and youth frustration deepens.

Cameroon’s Paul Biya, re-elected at 92, continues his rule that began in 1982. The capital, Yaoundé, while superficially calm, is structurally brittle. The absence of credible succession planning has created a latent crisis, with urban governance increasingly shaped by inertia rather than innovation. The city’s administrative apparatus, long centralised and opaque, may struggle to absorb the shocks of eventual transition.

In the Ivory Coast, Alassane Ouattara’s re-election at 83, amid allegations of electoral manipulation, has left Abidjan simmering beneath a veneer of stability. The city’s young people, disillusioned by generational exclusion and democratic erosion, remain a potent force. Their silence is not acquiescence; it is anticipation.

Equatorial Guinea and Republic of the Congo continue to be governed by Teodoro Obiang Nguema and Denis Sassou Nguesso, respectively, both emblematic of Africa’s enduring gerontocracy. Electoral legitimacy concerns and dynastic ambitions in these states threaten urban stability, particularly as cities like Malabo and Brazzaville become sites of elite extraction rather than civic empowerment.

In Democratic Republic of the Congo, the recent death sentence passed on former president Joseph Kabila by a military court adds another layer of volatility to Kinshasa’s political landscape. The capital, already strained by infrastructural deficits and civic distrust, now faces the spectre of elite retribution and institutional fragmentation.

Most dramatically, Tanzania’s urban centres have descended into unrest following the exclusion of key opposition figures from the 2025 electoral process. In Dar es Salaam, Mwanza and Arusha, citizens took to the streets in protest, culminating in widespread vandalism of high-value infrastructure.

The destruction of BRT stations, airport terminals and municipal buildings signals not just political outrage but a breakdown in the social contract. These acts of civic defiance are spatially symbolic; they target the very infrastructure that represents state authority and urban aspiration. The implications for urban governance are profound: cities must now contend not only with service delivery but with legitimacy restoration.

The interplay between succession politics and urban governance is no longer peripheral; it is central. African cities are absorbing the contradictions of gerontocratic rule, democratic erosion and generational mismatch. If these tensions remain unaddressed, the continent’s urban future may be defined not by innovation and inclusion, but by fragmentation and revolt. Urban planning must therefore become politically literate, generationally responsive and spatially just. The stakes could not be higher.

Generational mismatch and democratic erosion

Africa’s urban youth are politically conscious, digitally mobilised and demographically dominant, yet they remain structurally excluded from governance. Their frustration is compounded by a gerontocratic elite, with leaders such as Biya (92), Mnangagwa (83), Museveni (80) and Ouattara (83) clinging to power.

Democratic erosion, via term limit removals, constitutional manipulation, and electoral rigging, has become normalised. Succession anxiety looms large, as opaque transitions threaten civic peace. If these trends persist, cities will become ungovernable. Infrastructure financing will falter, governance norms will decay, and the political economy of urban development will collapse under the weight of civic distrust. The future of African cities demands generational renewal and institutional courage.

Young people as agents of urban transformation

Across Africa, urban youth have emerged as the principal instigators of civic uprisings, from Kenya’s Gen Z-led Maandamano protests (2024–25) to Nigeria’s #EndSARS movement (2020), Uganda’s Bobi Wine mobilisations (2020–21), Senegal’s Anti-Macky Sall demonstrations (2023–24), and South Africa’s Fees Must Fall unrest (2021). These movements are not fleeting; they are prophetic signals of generational discontent and democratic aspiration.

Africa’s young people are not merely participants; they are architects of future governance. Their demands, rooted in justice, inclusion and spatial equity, must be embedded in urban planning, infrastructure design and political reform. To ignore them is to risk civic rupture and institutional irrelevance.

Africa stands at a decisive inflection point. Its cities, dense with young people, layered with inequality and charged with political symbolism, are no longer passive spaces; they are battlegrounds of legitimacy and laboratories of civic transformation.

The continent’s urban youth are not waiting for permission; they are scripting new political futures. If urban governance fails to evolve, it will fracture. The next five years will determine whether African cities become engines of renewal or epicentres of revolt.

This moment demands more than policy tweaks. It calls for a structural reimagining of urban planning practice and training, one that embeds political literacy, generational responsiveness and spatial justice at its core. The choice is ours. Let it be visionary. DM

Wellington Muzengeza is a political risk analyst and urban strategist offering incisive insight on urban planning, infrastructure, leadership succession and governance reform across Africa’s evolving post-liberation urban landscapes.