Listening and learning

So I was listening. Good for me. But did I actually learn anything?

Over long days and nights, I asked Africans about the course of international activism. Should we just pack it up and go home, I asked? There were a few nods. But many more noes. Because most Africans we met seemed to feel the pressing need for new kinds of partnerships, not just among governments, but among citizens, businesses, the rest of us. I sense the end of the usual donor-recipient relationship.

Aid, it's clear, is still part of the picture. It's crucial, if you have HIV and are fighting for your life, or if you are a mother wondering why you can't protect your child against killers with unpronounceable names or if you are a farmer who knows that new seed varietals will mean you have produce that you can take to market in drought or flood. But not the old, dumb, only-game-in-town aid - smart aid that aims to put itself out of business in a generation or two. "Make aid history" is the objective. It always was. Because when we end aid, it'll mean that extreme poverty is history. But until that glorious day, smart aid can be a reforming tool, demanding accountability and transparency, rewarding measurable results, reinforcing the rule of law, but never imagining for a second that it's a substitute for trade, investment or self-determination.

I for one want to live to see Mo Ibrahim's throw-down prediction about Ghana come true. "Yes, guys," he said, "Ghana needs support in the coming years, but in the not-too-distant future it can be giving aid, not receiving it; and you, Mr. Bono, can just go there on your holidays."

I'm booking that ticket.

In South Africa, with Madiba, the great Nelson Mandela - the person who, along with Desmond Tutu and the Edge, I consider to be my boss - I raised the question of regional integration through the African Development Bank, and the need for real investment in infrastructure ... all the buzzwords. As Madiba smiled, I made a note to try not to talk about this stuff down at the pub - or in front of the band.

"And you, are you not going to the World Cup?" the great man chided me, changing the subject, having seen this wide-eyed zealotry before. "You are getting old and you are going to miss a great coming-out party for Africa." The man who felt free before he was, is still the greatest example of what real leadership can accomplish against the odds.

My family and I headed home ... just in time, I was getting carried away. I was going native, aroused by the thought of railroads and cement mixers, of a different kind of World Cup fever, of opposing players joining the same team, a new formation, new tactics. For those of us in the fan club, I came away amazed (as I always am) by the diversity of the continent ... but with a deep sense that the people of Africa are writing up some new rules for the game.

Bono is the lead singer of the band U2 and a co-founder of the advocacy group ONE and (Product) RED

The views in this article may not necessarily represent those of ChinAfrica; 

© 2010 Bono/ The New York Times (distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)