For decades, major France-Africa summits were almost ritualistically hosted in former French colonies — Dakar, Abidjan, Libreville — places where Paris already understood the language, politics, and power networks. But this time, something changed. For the first time in history, France chose an Anglophone nation with no colonial ties to host one of its biggest Africa-focused gatherings: Kenya.
And according to P.L.O. Lumumba, that shift is not diplomacy. It is a strategy:
“France remains the same. It may wear a different mask, but the reality is they want to dominate the African continent.”
Strong words. But in a period where France is being pushed out of West Africa, expelled militarily from the Sahel, and increasingly rejected by younger African populations, Nairobi’s sudden importance begins to look less symbolic and more geopolitical.
So why is France suddenly looking East? And is this a genuine partnership — or simply a new mask for an old ambition?
To understand the weight behind Lumumba’s statement, one must first understand how France has historically operated in Africa long after more than 20 African countries gained independence from French colonial rule. Because according to many Pan-African thinkers, colonialism never truly disappeared. It simply evolved.
One of the clearest examples is the CFA Franc.
Established in 1945 and still used by 14 countries in West and Central Africa, the CFA Franc has long been defended by France as a tool for economic stability. Supporters argue that it protects weaker economies from inflation and currency volatility.
Critics, however, see something far more political.
For decades, member states were required to deposit a significant portion of their foreign reserves into the French Treasury, effectively giving Paris enormous leverage over their economies. To Pan-Africanists, this was never merely about currency stability. It was economic supervision disguised as “partnership”.
Then comes the military footprint.
France maintains military bases across the continent in countries such as Djibouti, Senegal, Gabon, and Côte d’Ivoire. Officially, these bases exist to support regional security, counterterrorism operations, and military cooperation.
But critics argue that the reality often looked different from the official narrative.
From operations in the Sahel to repeated political interventions over the years, France has frequently been accused of protecting pro-French governments and securing strategic resources rather than safeguarding African sovereignty. Uranium in Niger. Oil interests in Gabon. Influence dressed up as security cooperation.
And then there is business.
For decades, French influence in Africa has also operated through elite networks, diplomatic ties, and corporate monopolies. The system became so entrenched it earned its own nickname: Françafrique — France’s unofficial political and economic backyard in Africa.
Major French corporations secured preferential access to infrastructure deals, mining rights, telecommunications, and energy projects across former colonies. To critics, the colonial administrator was simply replaced by the multinational corporation.
The boots became suits.
But perhaps the most important story today is not how France operated in Africa. It is how rapidly that influence is collapsing.
The geopolitical shifts of recent years have transformed Lumumba’s warnings from academic commentary into a visible continental reality.
Across the Sahel, France is facing what can only be described as a historic rejection.
In Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, French troops have been expelled after years of rising anti-French sentiment and frustration over insecurity. Massive protests in cities like Bamako and Dakar have targeted French businesses such as TotalEnergies and Orange, symbols many protesters now associate with modern economic extraction rather than partnership.
At the same time, conversations around abandoning the CFA Franc and reducing dependence on French institutions have intensified. The old “private backyard” France maintained in West and Central Africa is slowly slipping away.
And France knows it.
Which brings us back to Nairobi.
Hosting a major France-Africa summit in Kenya was not random. It was strategic.
Unlike many West African nations, Kenya does not carry the historical scars of French colonialism. France enters East Africa without the immediate baggage of being the former occupier. That gives Paris an opportunity to rebrand itself — not as a controlling power, but as a modern development partner focused on green energy, infrastructure, innovation, and technology.
A new mask.
East Africa also offers something France urgently needs: strategic relevance.
As influence weakens in West African ports, projects like the Port of Mombasa and the LAPSSET(Lamu Port and Lamu-Southern Sudan- Ethiopia Transport) corridor become increasingly important. Anchoring itself in Kenya gives France a foothold along the Indian Ocean, one of the world’s most critical trade and security routes.
And there is another factor driving this sudden pivot: competition.
Africa is no longer operating in a one-player geopolitical game. China has aggressively expanded its economic footprint across the continent through infrastructure financing, while Russia has steadily increased its military and political influence in several African states.
France is no longer the uncontested power it once was.
So the pivot to East Africa is also an attempt to remain relevant in the new global scramble for influence on the continent.
But according to Lumumba’s argument, the core objective has not changed. Only the methods have.
Today, dominance no longer arrives through colonial governors and military occupation alone. It arrives through debt agreements, technological systems, trade dependency, digital infrastructure, and political alignment.
Influence has become more sophisticated.
Debt diplomacy can tie national budgets to foreign financial interests. Technological partnerships can create long-term dependency on European systems and standards. Diplomatic relationships can shape how African nations vote and align themselves in global institutions like the United Nations.
The language may now be “partnership.” The strategy, critics argue, remains power.
And perhaps that is the warning East Africa should pay attention to most.
France’s growing interest in Kenya should not simply be viewed as a compliment or diplomatic breakthrough. It may also represent a geopolitical pivot — a search for a new sphere of influence after losing grip on the old one.
That is the “mask” Lumumba is talking about.
Because from a Pan-African perspective, true independence is not just about removing colonial flags. It is about dismantling the systems that allow foreign powers to maintain influence decades after independence.
And whether one agrees with Lumumba or not, one thing is becoming increasingly clear: Africa is once again at the center of a global power contest. The only difference now is that the players have changed their language, refined their strategies, and learned to wear softer masks.