When Wisdom Rings Hollow: Reflections from 22 Years in Zambia

A personal journey towards dignity-centred empowerment

There’s a proverb many of us grew up hearing:

“Give a man a fish and feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and feed him for a lifetime.”

We nod along to it because it sounds universally sensible — practical, generous, wise.

But I remember hearing it for the very first time in Kawama, just outside Ndola in Zambia’s Copperbelt region, a little over twenty-two years ago. Instead of nodding, something inside me recoiled. It didn’t feel noble at all.

It felt… off. Slightly patronising. Mismatched to the reality I was beginning to see around me.

I couldn’t have explained why back then. I was still new to the culture, the rhythm, the remarkable everyday resilience that shapes so much of life in Zambia.

But as the years have passed — and as I’ve met and worked with Africans from a range of countries, while returning to Zambia again and again over more than two decades — I’ve come to understand exactly why the proverb grated.

It wasn’t a lack of wisdom. It was a lack of fit.

The Zambia that changed me

When I first stepped into Zambian life — its warmth, its humour, its quick wit, its astonishing resilience — nothing matched the Western assumptions I hadn’t realised I’d been carrying.

I met people running small shops, roadside stalls, and family ventures who managed their work with an instinctive, almost effortless competence. I spent time with those whose livelihoods were tied to the land, whose understanding of soil, weather and seasons was shaped by generations rather than textbooks. I saw entrepreneurs reinventing possibility daily, stretching limited resources with a creativity and ingenuity that would put many well-resourced teams to shame.

And I will never forget the young people I met — especially a group from Kansenshi secondary school in Ndola, whom I took on a day trip to Nsobe Game Park.

Even then, long before widespread internet access and long before “global connectivity” became a buzzword, they were astonishingly world-aware. They teased each other, dressed with the same sense of style and identity you’d see on any British high street, laughed at the same teenage nonsense, and spoke about their dreams with a clarity and confidence that transcended geography.

What struck me most was how recognisable they were.  This wasn’t an “other” culture.  This was youth culture — universal, vibrant, full of hope.

And in that moment, something crystallised: there was nothing these young people needed to be “taught” about how to live, or work, or dream. They weren’t waiting to be shown how to “fish”. They were already fully engaged with the world — just navigating it from a different starting point.

The proverb’s problem

So the old line — “teach a man to fish” — suddenly felt deeply inadequate.
Because it quietly assumes:

• that one side holds the knowledge
• that the other side lacks it
• that empowerment is directional
• and that the “teacher” is the catalyst for change

But what I saw, over and over again, was something entirely different: People already knew how to build, create, adapt, problem-solve, and survive. What they lacked was not capability — it was access. Access to capital. Access to fair opportunity, to wider networks, to visibility. Access to belief. Access to systems that don’t stack the odds against them.

And this is where I began to understand the proverb’s deeper flaw: it carries an outdated, untested assumption… and untested assumptions shape attitudes. Attitudes shape policies. And policies shape opportunity.

In that sense, inherited “wisdom” — however well-intentioned — can limit more than it liberates.

Skills transfer isn’t the problem — assumptions are

One thing I’ve learned across the years is this: skills transfer isn’t patronising. Assumptions are. In any workplace in the UK, if someone receives training, nobody thinks: “I can’t believe you don’t already know this.”

Training is simply a normal part of developing and expanding an already respected skill set. The same principle applies everywhere. Teaching is not the issue. The issue is whether we see people as partners or projects. Whether we assume deficiency or recognise existing strength. Whether we bring humility or superiority.

The more I’ve learned, the more I’ve realised how much I still don’t know. And that posture — of curiosity, respect, and humility — changes everything.

Twenty-two years on…

Africa has transformed in extraordinary ways. There are innovation hubs where there were once dust roads. There are global entrepreneurs where there were once unconnected markets. There is a diaspora — now recognised as Africa’s “sixth region” — whose influence, ideas and capital flow back home with growing impact.

And yet…
For all the progress, structural barriers remain stubborn. Talent is everywhere. Opportunity is not. Brilliance is abundant. Infrastructure is not. Ambition is overflowing. Support is not.

So the problem today is not that people don’t know how to fish. The problem is that the river — metaphorically speaking — is too far away, fenced off, or controlled by forces beyond their reach.

So what, then, does real empowerment look like?

Over the years, I’ve come to see that empowerment is not the act of imparting knowledge. It is the act of unlocking what is already there.

Genuine empowerment looks like:

• helping someone clarify their idea
• providing structure and strategy
• opening networks and connections
• offering tools that accelerate progress
• creating visibility where none existed
• supporting accountability and momentum
• widening opportunity
• being a thinking partner, not an instructor
• respecting the dignity of someone’s lived experience
• matching talent with fair access

This approach isn’t about teaching from above. It’s about walking alongside. It’s partnership. Not paternalism. Possibility creation. Not prescription.

And it’s this spirit that eventually evolved into AfricAspire™ — not as a programme that teaches, but a programme that activates potential.

The heart of it all

Looking back, that early discomfort with the old proverb wasn’t a misunderstanding — it was insight. It was respect, even before I had the language to describe it. Respect for people whose skills, intelligence and ingenuity were already extraordinary. Respect for cultures that held a richness of wisdom long before I arrived. Respect for the truth that real empowerment starts not with “let me teach you,” but with: “Show me what you know — and let’s see how far it can go.”

And so, perhaps the proverb needs a modern version — one shaped by dignity, partnership and reality rather than assumption. Something like:

“People already know how to fish. Our task is to help widen the river.”

For me, that line captures not only my earliest experience in Zambia, but the purpose behind AfricAspire, and the posture I hope more of us will adopt in our thinking about Africa’s future --
a future that is already bright, already capable, and already rising.

To support, collaborate with, or learn more about AfricAspire, please get in touch or visit www.africaspire.org.uk.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘
𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐀𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞™, 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝟒 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐂.𝐋.𝐄.𝐀.𝐑.𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐱™
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬’ 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐊, 𝐄𝐔, 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲.

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