Sankofa, Ubuntu, and the Quiet Remaking of Africa’s Cities

Indigenous African philosophies like Sankofa and Ubuntu are quietly reshaping the soul of the continent’s cities. In a time of climate crisis, cultural erosion, and deepening inequality, these ancestral frameworks are being reimagined for rooftops, parks, and digital spaces — offering not just memory, but a map for survival.

In the early light, a candle burns on a balcony. Somewhere else in the city, hands pour water into the soil beneath a jacaranda, the earth drinking in the offering. These moments are small, almost invisible to the rush of urban life — yet they are part of a quiet, determined shift. Across Africa’s concrete landscapes, ancestral practices are not fading into memory; they are finding new homes in the heart of the city.

This is not nostalgia. It is reclamation. It is the weaving of philosophies like Sankofa and Ubuntu into the fabric of modern life — not as museum pieces, but as living strategies for survival, healing, and resistance.

Sankofa: Memory as a Tool for Survival

Sankofa, an Akan concept often symbolised by a bird turning its head backwards while moving forward, carries a simple but radical instruction: retrieve what is valuable from the past to guide the present and shape the future.

In the context of African cities, this is more than a proverb. It is a counterweight to the amnesia of global capitalism and the erasures of colonial urban planning. Research from the African Centre for Cities shows that integrating indigenous knowledge into urban design strengthens biodiversity, fosters social cohesion, and deepens a sense of place. This approach — sometimes called Sankofa Urbanism — resists the idea that progress means severing ties with the past.

In practice, it can mean protecting sacred groves from development, designing public spaces that honour historical memory, or embedding traditional ecological knowledge into climate adaptation plans. It is a reminder that resilience is not only about infrastructure, but about the stories and relationships that hold communities together.

Sankofa in the City

• Core Principle: Retrieve ancestral wisdom to inform the present
• Urban Impact: Supports biodiversity corridors, heritage site protection, and community-led design
• Global Parallels: Māori kaitiakitanga (New Zealand), Andean buen vivir (South America)

Ubuntu: The Architecture of Care

If Sankofa is about the relationship between past and future, Ubuntu is about the space between people. The Nguni phrase — “I am because we are” — has been diluted in boardrooms and branding campaigns, but at its root it is a blueprint for survival in fractured societies.

In South Africa’s urban centres, Ubuntu is being re-rooted in community wellness initiatives. Trauma-healing circles, cooperative food gardens, and neighbourhood care networks are not just acts of kindness; they are acts of infrastructure. Studies by the South African Medical Research Council link such community-based support systems to improved mental health, reduced isolation, and stronger social trust.

Ubuntu in the city is not about romanticising a pre-urban past. It is about building systems of mutual care where formal structures have failed. Weekly gatherings — in living rooms, parks, or online — become spaces where stories are shared, grief is witnessed, and accountability is nurtured. In a city that often rewards individualism, these spaces insist on interdependence.

Ubuntu’s Measurable Impact

• Mental Health: Community support linked to lower depression rates (SAMRC, 2023)
• Food Security: Cooperative gardens feeding over 100 households in some Cape Town districts
• Social Cohesion: Neighbourhood trust scores rise after Ubuntu-based interventions

Rituals Without Walls

One of the most striking features of this revival is its adaptability. Ancestral rituals, once tied to specific landscapes, are now unfolding in unexpected places: a rooftop in Lagos, a public park in Kampala, a studio apartment in Johannesburg.

In Kampala, “Sankofa Sessions” blend spoken word, music, and libation ceremonies. In Lagos, herbalists reclaim traditional medicine markets, offering plant-based remedies alongside spiritual consultations. Digital platforms extend these practices further — livestreamed ceremonies, WhatsApp prayer groups, and Instagram-based herbal education connect diasporic and local communities in real time.

Anthropologists at SOAS University of London note that traditions survive not by resisting change, but by absorbing and reinterpreting it. In this sense, the city is not a threat to indigenous spirituality; it is a new canvas.

Spirituality as Resistance

Reviving indigenous spirituality in African cities is not only about personal healing. It is also a form of resistance — against cultural erasure, against the homogenising pull of global consumer culture, and against the psychological toll of modern urban life.

Sacred site protection groups in Southern Africa link spiritual revival to environmental activism, arguing that honouring ancestral land is a direct challenge to extractive development. In Ghana, community-led heritage projects have successfully blocked commercial developments on sacred groves, citing both cultural and ecological grounds.

There are tensions. Some elders worry about the commodification of rituals, the risk of them becoming aesthetic backdrops for social media. Yet others see adaptation as proof of vitality. As long as the core values — respect, reciprocity, remembrance — remain intact, innovation is not dilution but evolution.

Indigenous Spirituality & Activism

• Sacred Site Campaigns: Over 30 active in Southern Africa (2024)
• Environmental Link: Rituals tied to biodiversity conservation in Kenya, Ghana, and South Africa
• Youth Engagement: 60% of participants in urban ritual events are under 35 (Afrobarometer, 2025)

The Personal Stakes

It is easy to treat this revival as a cultural trend — something to be photographed, hashtagged, and consumed. But to do so is to miss its urgency. In cities where inequality deepens, where climate shocks intensify, and where social bonds fray, these practices are not decorative. They are lifelines.

As someone who walks these streets, I cannot watch this movement without recognising its necessity. Sankofa and Ubuntu are not abstract ideals; they are survival strategies for a century that will test our resilience in every possible way. They remind us that the past is not a weight to be shed, but a resource to be mined — carefully, respectfully, and with an eye to the future.

Looking Back, Walking Forward

The Sankofa bird — head turned backward, feet facing forward — captures the paradox of our moment. We are not rejecting modernity; we are enriching it with ancestral depth. We are not retreating into nostalgia; we are advancing with memory as our compass.

The revival of indigenous spirituality in Africa’s cities is not about candles on balconies or libations under jacarandas, though these are beautiful. It is about reimagining urban life itself: who it serves, what it honours, and how it sustains us. If we can hold on to that vision, perhaps our cities will not only survive the storms ahead, but emerge more humane, more rooted, and more whole.

Why This Matters Now

• Urbanisation: Africa’s urban population projected to double by 2050 (UN-Habitat)
• Cultural Loss: UNESCO warns that 40% of intangible heritage in Africa is at risk
• Climate Resilience: Indigenous knowledge recognised as key in IPCC adaptation strategies