By Lord Fiifi Quayle

I was scrolling through my phone, the usual blur of news and noise, when an image stopped me cold. It was a piece of artwork from JoyNews in Ghana. A striking portrait of the esteemed statesman and businessman, Dr. Sam Jonah. But it was the bold caption beneath his likeness that held my attention: “Africa exporting wealth and importing poverty.”

The phrase is as elegant as it is devastating. In just five words, it captures the central paradox of a continent that is, by any objective measure, phenomenally wealthy, yet remains home to the largest concentration of the world’s extreme poor.

Those in the West have a preferred narrative about Africa. It is a story of scarcity, of a continent perpetually in need of their aid, their advice, their intervention. It is a comfortable story for them, one that casts them in the role of saviors. But Dr. Jonah’s portrait, and the truth it represents, tells a very different and deeply uncomfortable story: one of systematic extraction, where the global economic order is not a ladder up, but a siphon out.

Think about it. The Democratic Republic of Congo, which holds the minerals critical to the west green energy revolution and their digital world, is one of the poorest nations on earth. It exports the raw, unrefined cobalt and coltan. What does it import? The finished smartphones and electric cars built with those same minerals, priced far beyond the reach of most of its citizens. This is the core of the injustice: the system is designed to reward the processor infinitely more than the producer.

The wealth isn’t just in the ground; it’s in the people. And that, too, is being exported. I think of the brilliant Ghanaian doctor trained at the University of Ghana, now working in a London hospital. Or the Nigerian engineer educated in Lagos, now building infrastructure in Dubai. This “brain drain” isn’t an accident; it’s a continuous subsidy of the developed world’s talent pool, paid for by the nations that can least afford to give it.

So, if Africa is exporting its mineral wealth and its human capital, what is it importing that constitutes this “poverty”?

It imports their debt. To build the roads and power grids that the extractive economy demands, African nations take on colossal loans from international lenders. The result is a debt-servicing treadmill, where governments spend more on interest payments to foreign creditors than on the health and education of their own people. This is poverty, imported in the form of spreadsheets and austerity mandates from Washington and London.

It imports their instability. By being tethered to the volatile prices of raw commodities, the national budgets of resource rich countries rise and fall with the global market, making long-term planning impossible. This boom-bust cycle is a recipe for political and social turmoil.

And for too long, it has imported their economic dogma the rigid, one size fits all prescriptions of privatization and deregulation that have often served to weaken public institutions and entrench inequality.

This is not to ignore the real and corrosive impact of corruption and poor governance within many African nations. But to focus solely on internal failures is to willfully ignore the powerful, external architecture that makes those failures so catastrophic. It is a system that benefits a powerful few across the globe, while millions pay the price.

The way out, as visionaries like Dr. Jonah have long argued, is not more aid, but a fundamental renegotiation of this relationship. The African Continental Free Trade Area is a monumental step, creating a single market to foster internal trade and resilience. The focus must shift with ruthless determination from extraction to processing. Africa must move down the assembly line, capturing the value that has always been rightfully hers.

The JoyNews artwork was more than a portrait; it was a diagnosis. It forces us to see Africa not as a passive victim, but as an active participant in a rigged game. The path forward is about changing the rules of that game, moving from a narrative of helplessness to one of agency. It’s about a continent finally, and rightfully, deciding to keep its wealth and export its prosperity instead.