KENYA has one of East Africa’s fastest-growing Jewish communities, ranking behind Ethiopia and Uganda in size. In Nairobi, the capital city, stands a synagogue established over a century, although its congregation has historically consisted primarily of expatriate and non-indigenous Jews. Beyond the capital, indigenous Kenyan Jewish communities are found mainly in the Rift Valley region, particularly around Nakuru, the 4th-largest town in the country, which has some fascinating rich Jewish history.

Traveling from the Indian Ocean coast at Mombasa through Nairobi and westward into the Rift Valley, one can find fascinating European Jewish history on different fronts. In Nakuru stands a former synagogue whose construction began in 1955 and was completed in 1956; today, the building serves as an orphanage. Nearby lies a Jewish cemetery, near the Kenya Medical College campus in Nakuru. Not far from Nakuru, the town of Elburgon became home to several European Jewish settlers who established agricultural enterprises in the fertile highlands. Further northwest, Eldoret also attracted Jewish immigrants and refugees seeking new opportunities and safety far from the growing turmoil in Europe.

While Nakuru remains the most prominent center of Jewish history in Kenya, the legacy of Jewish agriculture in the Rift Valley extends far beyond the town itself. Gustav Kramer, a German Jewish refugee who arrived in Kenya in 1938, rose to become Nakuru’s first mayor in 1955 and played a key role in facilitating the construction of the Nakuru Synagogue, completed in 1956. In nearby Elburgon and across the fertile Rift Valley, early Jewish settlers established successful agricultural enterprises that sustained their communities and contributed to the region’s development.

We can only look at some historical facts through the lens of history to understand this story. At one time, European settlers lived and farmed in the Nakuru region. Even Rothschild’s family was involved in large-scale farming in the Rift Valley. But over time, the Jews left the area. Their departures have led many local people to ask what happened to that early Jewish presence, as the baton wasn’t handed to any local people when they all left, selling the Nakuru Synagogue to the government, which eventually converted it into an orphanage.

However, today, many decades after the complete exodus, an indigenous Kenyan Jewish congregation and community have risen in the Rift Valley area, most especially in Elburgon and Molo in Nakuru County, and Kasuku in Ol Kalou in neighbouring Nyandarua County. Many of them once came from Messianic backgrounds before returning to Torah-based Judaism. The community in Kasuku has a shul, while communities in Molo and Elburgon continue to gather in homes and other informal settings. Some of the members say they received formal conversion through a Beit Din in Uganda about a decade ago.

The question posed earlier has now been answered. When the European Jews left Nakuru and the Rift Valley area, they left a religious and spiritual vacuum in the entire environment. According to Moshe Abraham, a Jewish leader in Elburgon, “The land has been calling for the return of Jewish people and Judaism. Today, we have filled that gap, both spiritually and in leadership.” He also says he serves as a local chief over more than 20 villages, and he sees a connection between his role and the earlier history of Jewish leadership in Nakuru.

The Mountain Jews of Kenya

On a trip to Kenya, starting from Nairobi, the capital, one should not expect to find any indigenous Jewish congregation in this city of more than five million people. It takes over four hours to reach the Rift Valley region, known for its vast lakes, forested mountaintops, and rocky hills. Whether in Ol Kalou, Molo, or Elburgon, one thing becomes clear: these communities are rural and isolated. While all three locations can be accessed through Nakuru, Ol Kalou is the farthest. The community sits on a mountaintop overlooking the long waters of Lake Olbolosat, home to hippos, fish, and crocodiles.

The Molo Jewish community, on the other hand, is accessible through a rugged, sloping, and meandering mountain track that leads to the highland plateau. The weather there is chilly and windy, offering endless views of grassy landscapes stretching into the distance. Yet the lack of sufficient basic amenities and the rugged terrain often make life challenging, with many interior villages depending on the small Molo town centre for most of their supplies.

The model of the Molo Jewish community is a particularly interesting one. Because of their small population and the fact that families live in scattered settlement across the mountain, they have adopted a rotational Shabbat system. Without a centrally built synagogue, each household takes turns hosting Shabbat in their home. Without a rabbi and without the luxury of trained and structured leadership, this weekly gathering from house to house has helped keep the community united as they share in the harsh realities of the terrain, the tough weather, and the poverty that affects the area.

What makes this detail even more striking is that the European Jewish settlers in the same Rift Valley region once did exactly the same thing. Before Gustav Kramer became mayor and before the Nakuru Synagogue was built, those early settlers gathered in one another’s homes to observe Shabbat, rotating from household to household as they worked to establish themselves in a new land. The Molo community is not behind; rather, it stands at a similar starting point to where its predecessors once stood, walking a path that eventually led to a synagogue, community institutions, and a lasting Jewish presence in the region.

This raises an important question: why do most Kenyan Jews live in rural areas, where life is often difficult? Survival requires hard work, and many families depend on cultivating their land to provide food for their households rather than relying on the market. Given these challenges, one might ask, if opportunities are greater in the towns and cities, why have so many remained in these remote highland communities?”

This region is where some of us came from. We are called the Mountain Jews of Kenya for a reason. We started out as Messianics, but today, as rabbinical Jews, we still find ourselves living on these highlands.” — Elder Sam Ben Abraham.

The gathering was filled with excitement and, as they told me, it was the first time they had ever received a visitor from Nigeria. As part of my speaking tour with Olam Network and its Olam in Motion program, I travelled into the Rift Valley and up the mountains to the Molo Jewish community, where I met about 20 of its members.

Poverty in the highlands does not only mean an empty pocket. It also affects the spiritual and communal life of the Molo Jewish community. The absence of a dedicated synagogue building means the community has no permanent place to gather. The community lacks Torah scrolls, has very few siddurim for prayers, and many cannot afford items such as tallitot and tefillin. There is no Jewish library with books on Torah, Talmud, halacha, and Jewish history to support learning and leadership development.

The children attend government schools with no Jewish education program, growing up without formal instruction in Hebrew, Jewish history, or Torah study. Without a rabbi of their own, the community hopes that one day it will be able to send one of its young men to a yeshiva so that he can return as an ordained rabbi and serve future generations.

These are not small challenges. For a community that embraced rabbinical Judaism with such commitment, the lack of resources makes it difficult to fully practice and develop Jewish life. Week after week, Shabbat services are held in different homes, often with limited prayer books and no central communal building. Yet despite these difficulties, the community continues to preserve its Jewish identity and look toward the future with hope.

Kenya’s Dairy Sector: A Proven Opportunity

The discussion was highly spirited as we sat with members of the community—men, women, and youth—reflecting on practical ways to support development and improve their future. Before anything can be achieved, there must be something already on the ground that can be used as a foundation. In their case, that foundation is experience—practical knowledge of cattle rearing and dairy farming. Almost every household keeps at least two cows in their compound, used for milk and basic economic support.

In their case, the answer lies in looking inward—asking what their environment can provide. The Rift Valley is rich in natural resources—fertile soil, a favorable climate, and green hills that support livestock farming. For generations, the people of Molo have kept cattle, and their experience with dairy farming is well developed. The cows thrive in this cool, lush environment, where grass is abundant. With enough land, farmers can both sustain their herds and grow improved fodder crops to increase milk production.

Moreover, the market for milk is vast. The Molo centre itself is a busy town hub with surrounding mountain settlements, each with populations of more than 2000 people, all dependent on milk for daily nutrition. Beyond Molo, the nearby town of Elburgon and the larger population of Nakuru City together create an even larger market for dairy products from these highland farms. Thus, what begins in the heights of Molo can become a lifeline, sustaining families as far as Nakuru, which is a testament to how looking inward can set them on a path to prosperity.

The broader context makes the dairy potential of the Molo community even more compelling. Kenya has the largest dairy industry in sub-Saharan Africa, producing billions of litres of milk every year. The sector supports well over one million smallholder farmers, while demand for milk and dairy products continues to grow across the country. The Rift Valley, where Molo is located, is already one of Kenya’s leading dairy-producing regions, benefiting from the same cool climate and fertile grazing lands that the community has long relied upon.

Across Kenya, smallholder dairy cooperatives have proven to be one of the most effective tools for rural economic development. When farmers pool their resources, share veterinary services, and work together to secure better prices for their products, household incomes can increase significantly. The Molo Jewish community already possesses many of the qualities that make such initiatives successful. Through their rotational Shabbat system and other communal activities, they have developed a culture of cooperation, shared responsibility, and mutual support. In many ways, the social foundation needed for a successful dairy cooperative is already in place.

The human capital needed for this dairy project is already in place. During our discussions, members of the Molo Jewish community expressed a strong willingness to contribute their time and skills. Men, women, and even younger family members are ready to play their part, helping to care for the cows, milk them, and manage the day-to-day operations of the farm. This spirit of volunteerism provides a strong foundation, allowing the project to grow from within the community.

To move the project forward, land will first be leased, providing a cost-effective way to begin operations immediately. A fertile and relatively flat piece of land near the foot of the mountain, with access to natural water sources, has been identified as a suitable location. By leasing the land for an initial period of five years, the community can reduce upfront costs while retaining the option to purchase it in the future.

The next step will be the construction of a secure cattle shelter using locally available materials. Designed to protect the cows from cold nights and harsh weather, the structure will provide a safe and comfortable environment for the herd. With proper security, lighting, and access to water, the farm will create the conditions needed for healthy cattle and steady milk production.

What Investment Would Unlock

The Molo dairy initiative does not require enormous capital to get off the ground. Its greatest assets are already present within the community. What outside investment and partnership would unlock is the ability to move from subsistence to scale. Additional funding would allow the community to expand beyond the two or three cows that most households currently keep and build a coordinated communal herd capable of producing enough milk to serve larger markets, including Nakuru. It would also make it possible to acquire basic milk cooling and processing equipment, helping to reduce spoilage, improve quality, and secure better prices.

Beyond the farm itself, improved earnings would provide something equally important: opportunity and choice. Today, poverty keeps many members of the Molo Jewish community tied to the mountain interior. With a sustainable source of income, families could establish small businesses, participate more fully in the wider Kenyan economy, and create new opportunities for the next generation. For young people especially, such a change means access to education, employment, and a reason to invest in the future of their community.

And it would mean something more. It would mean the ability to build a synagogue, acquire siddurim and other religious materials, establish a Jewish library, and provide children with a stronger Jewish education alongside their secular studies. Investment in the Molo dairy initiative is therefore more than an investment in agriculture. It is an investment in the future of Jewish life on a Kenyan mountaintop.

In conclusion, the story of the Jewish people throughout history has often been a tale of endurance and of starting from scratch. Whether in Europe, North America, the Middle East, or Africa, they share a similar pattern. They rose from poverty, displacement, and hardship to build prosperous lives and strong institutions. They never waited for an opportunity to arrive but did so by identifying the resources around them and working together to create a better future.

Today, the Molo Jewish community stands at the beginning of a similar journey. Rooted in the highlands of Kenya, they are looking inward at what they already have: land, knowledge, faith, and a spirit of working together to create a better future for the next generation.

The post Scaling Dairy Dreams: How Cattle Rearing Can Lift Remote Kenyan Jewish Communities Out of Poverty first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

EVERY MORNING at four o’clock, long before Lagos wakes up, Nathan Uwaoma, a chazan and father, climbs to the bimah of Adat Yisrael Synagogue and begins to chant Selichot. He has done this ritual every morning, at the same time, apart from Shabbat. Selichot, which is known as the penitential prayers, and depending on the custom one is following, is recited daily from the first of Elul through the eve of Yom Kippur, pleading for forgiveness ahead of the Days of Awe.

But this year too, his voice doesn’t stay in the building.

Besides him on the bimah sits his android phone, quietly streaming the prayer live to a Telegram channel created by the synagogue, under the leadership of Kish Onyia, for exactly this purpose. The moment the cantor is ready to begin, a link goes out to the group, and members wherever they are click in to join him.

What’s striking is the math: the Telegram group now has about one hundred and fifty members, a number that outstrips the synagogue’s own physical membership. People who may never set foot in the building on a given morning are logging in from home, from other parts of Nigeria, mostly in the East, and even from other countries such as the United Kingdom, to pray together in real time.

The arrangement solves a problem as old as Selichot itself: the prayers demand an early hour that many people, especially those with jobs, families, or long commutes, simply cannot keep in person. For a working parent or someone living far from the synagogue, attending at four in the morning every day for weeks is often unfeasible, and attending at four in the morning every day for weeks is often out of reach. The Telegram broadcast removes that barrier entirely.

While leveraging an online tool, it also solves something more structurally important—parts of the Selichot service require a minyan, a quorum of ten, for certain responses to be said. Even remotely, members respond “Amen” together as the chazan reaches those points, turning what could be a solitary act of listening into something closer to communal prayer, even at a distance.

This is the second year Adat Yisrael has run the broadcast. A Telegram group existed last year too, but nowhere near as prominent or well-organized as this year’s effort. The synagogue has clearly taken it upon itself to make the prayer as accessible as possible, every single morning of Elul. The synagogue is ensuring that congregants approach and prepare for the High Holidays in the most halakhic ways possible.

The channel has, in effect, become a small act of decentralization for Jewish life in Nigeria: allowing people to join Selichot from the east, from the west, and from communities abroad, each tuning in according to their own time zone. Praying together in this way, even scattered across such distances, has helped bring a sense of kavanah, the focused intention that the High Holiday season calls for.

The Challenge: Network, Not Will

Not everything runs perfectly. Rivka, wife of the cantor, says the main challenge has been network reliability. Even when Nathan continues chanting without interruption, poor connectivity inside the synagogue can cut off listeners who are furthest away.

At times, Rivka says, her husband has had to step outside the building mid-prayer, phone in hand, walking around in search of a stronger signal, hoping the brothers on the other end remain connected while he continues leading Selichot. It’s a small, almost unnoticed act of devotion. To be chanting ancient words of repentance while pacing outside in the dark, the phone held up like a lifeline to a congregation he cannot see.

“The problem might also be about the gadget being used,” Rivka said, suggesting that a dedicated router powering the broadcast could offer a more stable connection. Despite the challenges, a 4G or 5G router could ensure a significantly more stable and uninterrupted Selichot experience, even for those joining from outside Nigeria.

In the meantime, the synagogue has built in a workaround. Kish, who doubles as leader and Telegram admin, typically records the prayer as it happens, whether or not the live stream makes it to the end without dropping. Once Selichot concludes, the recording, whether the full session or just the portion where the connection faltered, is posted back to the group. Someone who wakes at five can simply open the recorded version and pray along on their own time from their phone, even after the live prayer has ended. In addition to joining the Telegram channel, members also have a copy of the Selichot prayer on their phone to follow the live or recorded prayer session.

Are you finding it challenging to keep up with the Selichot prayer? Add your “Amen” to ours. Join the Adat Yisrael Selichot broadcast every morning of Elul — click below to join us on Telegram and be part of the minyan: https://t.me/+YkBoTdlJdAoyNmY0

In conclusion, the solution Rivka points to is a simple one: a dedicated router and WiFi at the synagogue to stabilize the connection for listeners whether in Lagos or beyond. It’s a small, practical upgrade, but one that could be the difference between an interrupted broadcast and a truly uninterrupted, worldwide Selichot minyan.

For now, though, the model is already working. Whether from the bimah, where six Sifrei Torah rest in the ark, or from a phone screen hundreds of miles away, the members of Adat Yisrael are managing to pray as a small congregation in Lagos, quietly reaching well beyond its walls. as we approach the much-anticipated High Holidays.

The post FROM LAGOS TO THE WORLD: How One Synagogue Is Taking Selichot To Telegram first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

FOR MONTHS, Elder Abashal, a member of the Beth Ha’arachman Jewish community in Akwa Ibom State in his early 70s, had stopped asking for healing. He asked for something else instead: to be taken.

His sight had faded until faces became shapes, and shapes became nothing he could name unless a voice came with them. He could no longer read the Torah he had spent many years with. He could no longer walk to synagogue, most of the time, without a hand to guide him. What is a life, he wondered aloud to those around him, when the world you love has gone dark? He prayed, community members recall, not for a cure but for Hashem to take him.

That prayer went unanswered and in its place came another.

Abba Otu Ori, a member of the community moved by the elder’s condition, stepped in to fund what the family could not: a full course of eye surgery, one eye and then the other, performed by visiting doctors from the United Kingdom. Between the two operations, corrective lenses, consultations, and follow-up medication, the cost climbed to nearly ₦3 million. Ori covered it in full.

Today, Elder Abashal sees. He reads Torah again. He rises early for synagogue and prays alongside the community he had once feared he would leave in darkness.

He was not the only one in Beth Ha’arachman to walk that road. Two years earlier, Elder Eliazar faced a similar decline—a time, community members remember, when he could no longer dial a phone number without asking someone else to do it for him. His family raised the funds for his surgery themselves, and he too regained his sight. The two men’s stories, separated by one year and by who paid the bill, now sit side by side in the community’s memory: one man restored by his own children, another by a member of his congregation who owed him nothing at all.

It’s that second fact that has moved people most. Ori and the elder he helped were not close relatives. There was no family obligation pulling him toward that hospital bill. Community members describe it simply as gratitude finding an outlet. It was a decision to give simply because he could, and because a fellow congregant needed it.

Ori’s giving did not stop with the surgery. In the same season, he funded construction of a new gathering space for Beth Ha’arachman: a marble-floored, pillared sitout, built into the earth in a semi-submerged style community members compare to a citadel, with careful attention to airflow and light. The space now hosts kiddush and community events that don’t take place inside the main synagogue hall, giving Beth Ha’arachman room to gather, celebrate, and pray.

For a community that has weathered its share of hardship, the two gestures have landed as more than isolated acts of charity. They’ve become, in the words of members who’ve watched both unfold this year, a kind of restoration: of sight, of space, and of hope. An elder who once prayed for death now prays daily in a hall built partly through the same community that gave him back his eyes.

Beth Ha’arachman’s leaders say the lesson they draw from Ori’s giving is not really about him. It is about what becomes possible when a community chooses to see its most vulnerable members: quite literally, in this case—and acts before it’s too late. For an elder who once asked only to be taken, that choice made all the difference.

The post Sight Restored, Hope Rebuilt: One Man’s Gift to Beth Ha’arachman first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

On July 6, 2026 in Israel, the Yakir Maccabi Award, the highest honor awarded by the Maccabi World Union (MWU) was awarded to the Chairman of Maccabi South Africa Cliff Garrun, in recognition of his many years of dedicated leadership in the Maccabi Movement and the Maccabiah. The award was presented at MWU’s “More Than a Leader” event, with Maccabi South Africa leaders publicly recognising the honour as a fitting tribute to his commitment, vision and dedication.

Kol Hakavod and Mazal Tov, Cliff!

Garrun’s recognition arrives at a meaningful moment for African Jewish sports: one where the continent’s place within the wider Maccabi world is actively taking shape, even as some of the more ambitious plans for this Sukkot look different than first anticipated.

Regular readers will recall the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance’s (SAJA) earlier vision for this Sukkot: alongside the SAJA Sukkot Games, Akwa Ibom (Southern Nigeria) was set to host the formal establishment of the Maccabi African Confederation (MAC)—a new continental platform intended to organize and empower Jewish athletes across Africa and open pathways toward future Maccabiah participation. Details of this were covered in my previous article: Maccabi FC Nigeria Triumphs in Passover Friendly, Eyes SAJA Sukkot Games.

That vision remains alive, but the process is following a different, and arguably more deliberate path than originally planned. Nigeria Maccabi’s application to become a Territorial Organisation of MAC was formally submitted to the Maccabi World Union on February 4, 2026, and presented in person by Garrun at an MWU leadership conference in Israel later that month. The application was well received, and MWU’s Executive has since requested further information about Jewish practice and observance within the community as part of its standard review process.

Why the Sukkot Games and Leadership Conference Could Be Standing Down This Year

The SAJA Sukkot Games were conceived specifically to celebrate the formation of the Maccabi African Confederation (MAC). The planned football tournament featuring Maccabi FC Nigeria, Harachaman FC, Mehamizrach FC, and the National Youth Team was timed to coincide with the scheduled arrival of MAC coordinators in Nigeria for the grand occasion. They were expected to arrive from South Africa, Cameroon, Ghana, Uganda, Kenya, and Ethiopia, joining their counterparts in the host country. Most of these coordinators also serve as SAJA’s country representatives in their respective nations, which made their anticipated presence in Nigeria a natural opportunity to host a SAJA gathering as well. The proposed SAJA Leadership Conference followed that same logic: with those leaders already gathering in one place, it was a strategic opportunity to convene the rest of SAJA’s leadership team for the first time in years.

With MAC’s formation now tracking toward the MWU Conference rather than an event in Nigeria, that anticipated convergence of traveling leaders will not materialize this Sukkot—and with it, the natural occasion for both the Games and the Leadership Conference.

What hasn’t changed is the Sukkot observance itself. Across the country, communities will joyfully celebrate Sukkot in their customary ways, marking the seven-day festival and observing Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah. The same for the Beth Ha’arachman Jewish community in Akwa Ibom who has marked the festival in its most traditional form, in which for over a decade, dwelling in a dedicated Sukkot village of more than 35 structured shelters. That tradition, which is now a near-permanent fixture of community life, continues this year exactly as it always has, independent of any wider SAJA or a MAC event as initially envisioned at the beginning of the year.

Football Still Finds Its Way onto the Pitch

However, even without a continental tournament this Sukkot, Jewish football in Nigeria has a busy August ahead.

Camp Sarah, the country’s Jewish summer camp now in its fourth year at Tikvat Israel Synagogue in Kubwa, Abuja, will once again welcome Maccabi FC Nigeria—who fielded a team for the first time last year, defeating Legacy FC 2:1 in what campers called a historic match. This year, Maccabi FCN will feature in two matches during the camp: the first against Independent FC on August 9 in Kubwa, followed by a second fixture on August 16. This will be the club’s first-ever back-to-back games.

At the same time, Southern Nigeria will host the National Youth Seminar, which was first held in 2019 and revived last year and is now intended to be taking place annually if funding allows. Unlike the camp friendlies, the seminar is centered on religious learning rather than sport, but this year’s edition will include its football competition, track and field events, and possibly a female volleyball debut. As usual, in the area of football, we expect to see the National Youth Team facing a team drawn from Jewish players in the host state.

Taken together, that single week in August: two Camp Sarah matches in Abuja and a youth football and female volleyball activities in the south—offers a small but telling picture of just how active Jewish sporting life in Nigeria has become, the very kind of grassroots detail the Maccabi World Union’s management have been asking to understand better as they consider the shape of a future confederation.

Building Toward a Bigger Stage

Speaking ahead of the club’s Camp Sarah fixtures, Shlomo Yaakov, the Maccabi FCN’s technical director shared his excitement about a new chapter for the team:

We’re excited to announce a formal training and temporary camping agreement with Xriso Sporting FC, which will help us train and compete more actively, the way other clubs do. This partnership is a big step for Maccabi Nigeria, and we’re grateful to African Jewish Voices, the media, and the authorized spokespersons of both clubs for their support in making this agreement happen.”

The coach also credited African Jewish Voices’ official mouthpiece representation and media coverage with playing a real role in building the club’s profile internationally—coverage that has, over time, reached readers around the world and given Maccabi FC Nigeria fans who first came to know the club through what they read online.

The club has faced some internal challenges in recent months, and there is hope that the original founding members who first conceived the idea of a “Maccabi Nigeria” will find the opportunity to meet soon, work through those matters, and set the club on solid footing going forward.

It’s also worth noting that Maccabi South Africa itself has a busy Sukkot period ahead, hosting the Maccabi Junior Games in Johannesburg over those same dates. More than 300 juniors across age groups from Under 12 to Under 18 are expected to take part in a range of sporting and cultural events. Ultimately, the situation is a reminder that, even without a joint continental gathering this year, Jewish sport across Africa remains very much in motion.

Having seen the effort and dedication Cliff Garrun continues to bring to the Maccabi Movement, there is a shared hope across the community to realign behind his vision for MAC and, in time, a full MAC tournament. With the SAJA Sukkot Games no longer likely on the calendar this year, attention is turning more fully toward that goal. It’s worth noting, too, why that focus matters: participation in a MAC tournament offers a genuine pathway toward future Maccabiah Games in Israel, whereas the SAJA Sukkot Games, meaningful as they would have been, never carried that same route forward. For a club and a community with eyes on the global stage, MAC remains the corridor worth building.

The post A Yakir Maccabi Award for Cliff Garrun—SAJA Sukkot Games and Other Sports Updates. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

ACROSS SUB-SAHARAN AFRICA, Jewish communities are increasingly asking one same question: how does a synagogue become part of the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA)? The question has become more urgent as the organization continues to grow beyond its original founding members and expands into new countries and communities.

As Secretary of SAJA, I believe it is important to provide a clear answer.

Upon its formation, SAJA had nine founding countries: Nigeria, Uganda, Zimbabwe, Cameroon, Tanzania, Ethiopia, Madagascar, Ghana, and host Cote d’lvoire. Since then, the alliance has continued to expand, with members now also in Kenya, Gabon, Congo DR, and South Africa. More recently, there has been outreach from Angola and Somaliland, both of which have made enquiries about how to join the growing alliance.

SAJA was created to connect Jewish communities across Sub-Saharan Africa through cooperation, representation, cultural exchange, sharing of resources, and mutual support. As regards the reason for its formation, it was never intended to function as a gatekeeper controlled by a small circle of individuals. Instead, it was designed as a continental network where communities could participate through transparent structures and recognised national leadership.

That distinction matters

SAJA IS NOT A POLITICAL ORGANIZATION.

It is worth stating plainly: SAJA is not a political body, and it was never built to serve political ambition. The alliance exists for religious life, promoting unity, and community development—not for the pursuit of office, influence, or personal standing. No individual holds authority in SAJA because of who they know or what title they claim; authority rests in recognized structures, agreed upon by its pioneering member communities, and open to review.

This matters because networks that are built around shared faith and shared history are only as strong as their resistance to eventually being repurposed for other ends. When politics enters a religious alliance, communities stop being partners and start being constituencies. SAJA’s founders understood the importance of this principle, which is why the alliance was built around national representation and continental cooperation rather than around any single office or personality. The moment the alliance is treated as a stepping stone for personal or political advantage is the moment it stops serving the ultimate purpose it was created for.

A DECENTRALIZED MODEL, BY DESIGN

Recently, a worrying trend has begun to emerge in some quarters, where communities are encouraged to view SAJA membership primarily as a pathway to grants or financial assistance. This misunderstanding risks creating expectations that no organization can responsibly guarantee.

In reality, joining SAJA does not automatically qualify a synagogue or community for grants, funding, salaries, or financial support. Donor decisions remain independent and are based on their priorities, project evaluations, number of members in the beneficiary community, and approval processes. Communities should therefore join the alliance because they believe in its mission of African-Jewish cooperation, and not because they have been promised money.

The strength of SAJA lies in its decentralized model. For example, the current SAJA president serves from Zimbabwe, while the vice president serves from Uganda. In Nigeria, the secretary and treasurer also hold continental responsibilities. These officers, together with other national representatives and heads of working committees, have the authority to help expand the network within their respective countries through established procedures rather than personal control. No single figure sits at the center of the alliance, but instead, responsibility is spread deliberately across countries and communities so that no one voice can speak for all of SAJA, and no one gatekeeper can decide who belongs.

This approach has already produced tangible results. During my visit to Uganda in November 2025, both the Kwania Jewish Community in the north and the Nalubembe Jewish Community in Eastern Uganda said they had heard about the organization and wanted to become part of the SAJA network. The vice president, the top-ranking principal in the country, fully informed, confirmed their appeal and interest, and their application was approved.

In Kenya, following my visit during Passover, two mountain communities joined the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance in a historic celebration. Thus, the Kehilat Yisrael Synagogue and the Elburgon Jewish Community become the first ones to join the alliance in Kenya more than two and a half years after the creation of SAJA. In the Molo Jewish community, another location in the Kenyan Rift Valley, community members hinted at their willingness to join the growing alliance during one of my speaking tours at Hanukkah of 2025.

Nigeria provides another example. Although nine communities attended the inaugural SAJA 2022 conference that helped launch the organization, additional Nigerian synagogues have since started joining through the recognized continental leadership structure. This demonstrates that the organization continues to grow beyond its founding membership and remains open to eligible Jewish communities across the continent.

TRANSPARENCY AS PRACTICE, NOT SLOGAN

The organization’s website reflects this same philosophy of transparency. Because instead of concentrating information in a single office, SAJA provides dedicated web pages for each member country, documents ongoing food security projects and activities, and allows members and intending communities to access information about the alliance, its working committees, and even a WhatsApp link to request to join some of these departments. The goal is to make participation more accessible, not less.

For communities interested in joining, the process is straightforward. Synagogue leaders and Jewish organizations should contact the appropriate SAJA representative in their country or the continental principal leaders. Membership is based on participation in the alliance and commitment to its goals, not on financial promises or personal relationships with any leader.

To date, there has been no recorded instance of a synagogue leader reaching out to an authorized SAJA representative and being refused. Every community that has approached the alliance in sincere faith, through the recognized structure, has been welcomed.

IN CONCLUSION: A GATEWAY, NOT A GATEKEEPER

A gatekeeper decides who is deemed worthy to enter, right? However, a gateway simply opens the way through. SAJA was never intended to become the former. It was designed to become the latter—a passage, not a checkpoint.

The future of African Jewish unity will not be determined by who controls access to opportunities, nor will it be shaped by political manoeuvring dressed up as leadership. It will be determined by whether SAJA remains faithful to the principles upon which it was founded: transparency over secrecy, cooperation over competition, decentralization over centralization, democracy as opposed to dictatorship; and shared purpose over personal ambition.

Haven travelled to Jewish communities in Uganda, Kenya, and across Nigeria while helping expand the alliance, I remain convinced that Africa’s Jewish future depends on building networks of trust rather than a system that encourages manipulative politics. I think that members deserve accurate information, open participation, and a fair, transparent membership process—from the first expression of interest to final approval.

Just as it was envisioned at its founding in Abidjan, SAJA belongs to every Jewish community in Sub-Saharan Africa. Its mission is not to concentrate authority in one office, but to unite communities around a shared vision of cooperation, mutual respect, and collective progress

The post Understanding SAJA: What It Is, How to Join, and the Principles That Unite Us. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

Maccabi FC Nigeria delivered an impressive performance last week as they secured a 2–1 victory over Success Football Academy in a spirited friendly match held at the Sports Complex Stadium, Phase 5, Army Housing Estate, Kurudu, Abuja. The match, played during the Passover period, offered both entertainment and a moment of unity for players and supporters in the spirit of the festive season.

From the opening whistle, Maccabi FCN, flying in its home blue colors, showed clear intent and attacking confidence. The visiting team was forced into a defensive mood in the first few minutes of the game. Nonetheless, the Maccabi dominance paid off in the first half, when a brilliant team effort saw one of their forwards skillfully dribble past a defender before calmly slotting the ball into the net. The goal set the tone for what would be a strong first-half performance. Shortly after, the home team doubled their lead through a well-taken free kick, demonstrating both technical precision and composure under pressure.

Success Football Academy responded in the second half with renewed energy and managed to pull one goal back, increasing the intensity of the match. The visitors continued to apply increasing pressure throughout the remainder of the game. However, Maccabi FC remained disciplined and organized, holding their shape and resisting further pressure to preserve their lead. The final whistle confirmed a hard-earned 2–1 victory for the home side.

Beyond the action on the pitch, the match carried added significance as it took place during the period of Passover. For many involved, it served as a festive football encounter—blending sport with celebration. Supporters, including members of Tikvat Yisrael Synagogue and Gihon Hebrew Synagogue, and the club’s management, were present in strong numbers, cheering passionately and contributing to a lively and uplifting atmosphere.

The victory not only reflects Maccabi FC Nigeria’s growing strength and cohesion as a team but also sets a positive tone as they look ahead to future competitions. Of particular importance are the upcoming SAJA Sukkot Games, scheduled to take place later this year. With the current unstable situation in the Middle East and predictions of another Maccabiah postponement, the debut edition of a Maccabi Pan-African Tournament (MPAT) likely will be adjusted too, giving way to an alternative tournament where athletes can entertain and feature in a football competition during the proposed SAJA conference this Sukkot. The tournament is expected to bring together teams and athletes from across the host country, promoting unity, progress, and sportsmanship.

Nevertheless, as the SAJA Sukkot Games approach, Maccabi FCN is not alone in its aspirations. A few other youth football teams in the country are also getting ready to show off their skills. Harachaman FC, known for its explosive energy, is poised to make a strong impression in its home state, while Mehamizrach FC, with its youthful squad, hopes to climb the ranks. Additionally, the national youth team, representing a broad range of emerging talent, is gearing up to make its mark. Together, these teams will grace the SAJA event, forming a vibrant mosaic of Nigerian football, rich in skill and shared ambition.

Maccabi FC of Nigeria is preparing for the future Maccabiah Games in Israel, positioning themselves as Nigeria’s official representatives on that global stage. This potential is made possible by a dedicated network of supporters—Kulanu in the United States. IPJD in Abuja, ABA Foundation, and African Jewish Voices—whose commitment fuels their dreams. With such invaluable backing, Maccabi FCN is not just playing a game; they are building a legacy—one that inspires a nation and carries their hopes onto a world stage, making history in Jewish Football and inspiring other African athletes to follow suit.

In bringing together these teams, the SAJA Sukkot Games become more than just a football tournament—they are a central part of a larger, historic event. As the biggest Sukkot village in Africa lights up in Akwa Ibom, we will not only celebrate the joy of Sukkot but also host the SAJA conference—a pivotal gathering of African SAJA leaders. Within this vibrant context, the SAJA Games serve as the celebratory heartbeat, bringing together athletes and fans as a beacon of progress, unity, and faith.

The post Maccabi FC Nigeria Triumphs in Passover Friendly, Eyes SAJA Sukkot Games. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

On October 27th, it was a quiet Monday evening in the WhatsApp group of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue. A post notification popped up, with the new week’s parashah appearing on the top of the screen: Parashah Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1-17:27). Haftara (Isaiah 40:27-41:16)

Beneath it, a list of aliyot unfolds—rishon, sheni, shilishi, revi’i, chamishi: some of the lines bearing a phone number, a name, a contributed amount, and a small green checkmark, showing payment received. Within minutes, the chat lights up as the synagogue members, in response to the call to indicate interest for any of the aliyot, begin to bid and claim their Torah honors for the coming Shabbat. Already, one Yosef had chosen petach, while the Hagbaáh spot was claimed by Tehilah bat Yoshyah. Another woman bids for Gelilat, indicating a male who had volunteered to stand in for her.

From my base in faraway East Africa, I bid interest for the 4th aliya (rivi’í) and confirmed it by sending a screenshot of payment successfully made. By Friday morning, every slot has been taken and recorded. What once required in-person coordination at the synagogue now happens seamlessly through mobile messages. A sacred practice of selecting who will ascend to the Torah has now been upgraded into the language of modern connectivity in this digital age, allowing members to participate in the Torah service irrespective of their present location.

From its earliest days, Gihon has called itself a synagogue of the people. Founded in the 1990s, it is one of the oldest mainstream Jewish congregations in the country. In contrast to numerous Nigerian synagogues that are established and headed by an individual or groups, Gihon has flourished thanks to the consistent generosity of those who pray within its walls.

Basically, the offerings realized by being called to the Torah—and the tzadaka, as well as other charity contributions—have long sustained the community. These contributions power the synagogue’s daily life: keeping the lights on, maintaining the sanctuary, and supporting Shabbat and festival observances such as meals, challah, religious materials, and symbolic food. Members are aware that each contribution, however small, helps sustain the house of prayer they call home.

For several years, Gihon’s stability and reputation have drawn wider recognition. And due to its long-standing presence in Nigeria’s capital, it has not only been visited by many foreigners but also attracted support from Jewish and Israeli organizations in the country. Through this network of goodwill, the synagogue has been able to undertake major community projects—including its kiddush hall, guest room, and kitchen space. Its perimeter fencing and water borehole were also built through donations from a well-wisher through the Chabad centre in Abuja and community support.

Furthermore, it’s notable that inclusivity has always defined the community. Women, too, have long participated in the aliyah allotment. Under Orthodox custom, a male congregant ascends the bimah on their behalf, yet the woman’s Hebrew name is pronounced during the blessing, ensuring her spiritual presence is honored. Hence, clearly, the WhatsApp Aliyah system that Gihon now employs simply continues this tradition of openness and shared responsibility—preserving the synagogue’s communal spirit while it gracefully transitioned into the digital age.

Prior to leveraging the WhatsApp mobile application to transform the ritual, aliyot bidding at Gihon was scheduled for moments before the Torah service. As the scroll rested on the bimah, congregants would raise pledges aloud in a lively, if sometimes hurried, exchange. Others, knowing they might be absent, reach out to the gabbai a day or two earlier to reserve a slot.

It was an authentic, spirited procedure, but also a bit messy, especially when some members were absent or showed up late to the synagogue. The system favored those physically present, left little room for certainty in filling up the list of aliyot on time, and created occasional overlap in pledges. The record keeping was manual, sometimes plagued by unforeseeable delays in fulfilling payment, and for members abroad, impossible.

However, the limitations of an on-site system became clear as Gihon’s network of friends and families expanded across the country and as the recent astronomical rise in inflation due to the removal of subsidies in petroleum caused transportation expenses to the shul to soar beyond the reach of a few. The desire to preserve transparency, ensure order and flexibility, enable instant payment to secure aliyot slots, and promote inclusion gave rise to an idea that would transform not just logistics but the very meaning of connection.

The WhatsApp Model, a repetitive weekly protocol, usually resets after each Shabbat. Once the candles have been extinguished and the community rested, the gabbai, beginning on Tuesday morning, posts a message announcing the week’s parashah. The message lists the Torah portion, the haftarah, and all aliyah categories, including other synagogue honors such as petach, hagba’ah, gelilat, and tzdaka.

Members reply directly in the group chat or message the coordinator privately to claim their aliyah. Payments are made through bank transfer to the synagogue bank account indicated, and receipts are shared as screenshots. The post is then updated with verification marks indicating confirmed pledges. A simple reminder reads: It’s important to note that aliyot isn’t given on pledge but payment; payment confers the allotment.

Without doubt, the process is fully transparent: everyone can see which aliya has been taken, by whom, and at what bidding entry level. Now, just imagine how a few minutes of online interaction replace the once-hectic and mostly uncertain allotment moments that occurred before Torah reading. More importantly, the new system opens the doors of the bimah to members far beyond Abuja.

“Even though I have recently relocated to Port Harcourt (Southern Nigeria, about 690 km from Abuja), I am still a member of Gihon in my innermost heart, as always. I will continue to support the running of the synagogue, which has been important to me. It has helped shape my spiritual life, serving as both a place of worship and a centre for learning. I understand that this is one of the ways I can contribute to getting things up and running; I will continue to participate in bidding for aliyot from a distance and sending in my payment and donations.”

Just like ima Keleyah in Port Harcourt, I too, for the first time, participated from a distance outside Nigeria. I was in Uganda. That week, I saw the message for Parashat Lech Lecha, sent in the Gihon WhatsApp group. Without hesitation, I placed my bid for an aliyah, made the payment through mobile transfer, and sent my receipt. When Shabbat arrived, a brother in the congregation ascended the bimah in my stead. The reader called my Hebrew name in the blessing, and the congregation responded, “Amen.”

Though I was thousands of miles away, I felt the warmth of belonging. The words of Torah read in Abuja reached me across borders; my small contribution kept the synagogue alive while keeping my spirit anchored.

Since then, I have also joined from Kenya, getting the Aliya Rishon spot for the week of Parashat Vayeitzei. Each time, the experience reaffirms that distance cannot diminish devotion. This digital bridge allows me to stay connected to the vibrant Gihon community as a friend and well-wisher, actively participating in its ongoing activities back home.

In the WhatsApp bidding system, everyone has a share. Both men and women participate, families make joint pledges, and younger members, accustomed to digital interaction, have taken on a new level of engagement. Every contribution made, however small, supports the synagogue’s daily needs, which comprise fuel for the generator, electricity bills, support for festival meals, as well as bread and wine for kiddush. That shared understanding keeps the flame of collective responsibility burning. The digital chat has effectively become a new courtyard for the synagogue, serving as a typical virtual space where generosity and faith meet, with certainty also guaranteed.

“In the old method, people bid for aliya and are allowed to ascend the bimah without prepayment, in the hope that these pledges would be redeemed later, maybe within the new week. However, there was no mandatory deadline for making these payments. Therefore, the system was flawed to an extent, especially when some unfortunately failed to meet with their payment on time.” This was according to Shlomo Yaakov, a senior chazan, making comparisons between then and now.

From a broader perspective, this is a way of opening the door to a global opportunity. Through this digital system, anyone in the world can now willingly contribute to sustaining the spiritual growth of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue in the capital of Africa’s most populous nation. Whether one lives in South Africa, New York, or Tel Aviv, it takes only a few taps to bid for an aliyah, send the offering, and have one’s name blessed from Gihon’s bimah.

The spiritual connection is real: the Torah blessing spoken in Abuja mentions the name, and the congregation answers “Amen,” linking the giver’s intent with the community’s response. In many large synagogues abroad, obtaining an aliyah can be difficult because of the sheer number of congregants competing for limited honors. At Gihon, the model of this digital procedure guarantees access and an level playing ground, ensuring room for participation to share in the blessing.

For those seeking both a spiritual merit and a tangible way to strengthen African Judaism, this initiative offers a unique path. It doesn’t just democratize a sacred ritual but also decentralizes it and turns it into a channel of global participation.

The transition from ‘brick and mortar’ to an online platform has demonstrated the effectiveness of the WhatsApp model in addressing some of the issues presented by the previous approach. Management can draw inspiration from this, then iterate and expand beyond WhatsApp, perhaps utilizing their synagogue website or a dedicated app that would automate parts of the process. A secured payment gateway with multiple options is paramount, as well as real-time updates or even an AI assistant that can send simple, heartfelt thank-you notes automatically.

Beyond aliyah allotment, the Gihon WhatsApp community has become a digital hub for African Torah life, connecting different WhatsApp groups and creating a network of shared learning and support. The same system that now manages aliyot can also integrate the Gihon Eden Academy (a mini-Hebrew class) and even drive cross-community communication, allowing Jews nationwide and beyond to be part of the system.

Standing now for over 30 years, Gihon has continued to hold the status of being a community-owned house of prayer. Its openness and freedom of expression among members have helped it grow into one of the largest congregations in town. Its devotion is fervent, and even without a physical rabbi in their midst, the love and practice of Judaism are things many have admired and can attest to.

The community is guided by a group of elders and its founding fathers, who recognize the innovative mindset that their youthful generation brings to the table, striving to identify better ways to grow together in strength and purpose. Gihon’s experiment is part of a larger wave reshaping Jewish life on the continent as we see communities turning to digital tools for education, communication, and worship.

Technology, once viewed by some as a threat to tradition, has become its ally. How fascinating to see Gihon stand at the forefront of this digital revolution. Its aliyah system proves that innovation need not dilute faith; it can deepen it, preserving the Jewish heritage while mastering modernity.

The post Aliyah in the Digital Age: The Gihon Hebrew Synagogue Model first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

EDUCATION has transcended beyond the walls of the classroom. While its power as a transformative tool remains undiminished, its evolution has presented a dual reality: vast new opportunities alongside options of flexible directions. The essence of education has not changed, but its compounding effect—when applied across disciplines and contexts—has produced outcomes that are both remarkable and far-reaching. Today, being able to use available knowledge is not only a strategic move; it’s a powerful way of applying multiple forms of understanding simultaneously to achieve timely and practical results.

True education embodies a vast range of knowledge, which is tailored to every facet of human endeavor. This knowledge—the very components of education—provides the essential framework for solving countless underlying societal issues. The essence of true education lies in cultivating the ability to identify a challenge, understand the required response, and implement solutions that transform chaos into purposeful, favorable patterns.

History consistently demonstrates that many of humanity’s most pressing problems already have workable solutions. This reality makes it unnecessary to perpetually seek entirely new approaches or attempt to reinvent the wheel. As the saying goes, there is “nothing new under the sun.” The smart way to go forward is to look at the success pathways of others, figure out what worked for them, and then carefully adapt and copy those techniques, which have been shown to make a real difference.

The journey to success, whether beginning from scratch or from a midway point, is invariably defined by time and deliberate action. Moving from one’s present reality to a desired future requires an honest understanding of the current position at any given moment. A lot of the time, we are where we are now because of what we’ve done in the past, and the decisions we make now will affect what happens in the future.

This understanding is very important for African Jews, especially those who live in Sub-Saharan Africa. It is not enough to admire Jewish communities in other parts of the world or hope to mirror their achievements without doing the work first. There is still a big divide between African Jewish communities and those in more developed locations. This gap includes things like economic empowerment, organized community settlements, established synagogues, access to Jewish education, and representation in important aspects of the secular world. There is, undeniably, significant ground to cover.

Nevertheless, it is an optimistic and clear truth that these diaspora communities, which are currently doing well, were formerly weak and unstable. Through sheer determination, they organized, invoked deep reservoirs of knowledge—both sacred and secular—and ultimately steered their collective destiny forward. Their journey from being limited to having an impact is a strong example.

The strategic use of various forms of education for African Jewry must now be channelled into concrete, transformative pillars. This means focusing on certain areas where information is the main driver of long-term progress and self-determination. Let me take you through the following areas, which represent not mere aspirations, but actionable frameworks for building a resilient and prosperous future for many indigenous African Jewish populations.

Education is essential for the training and ordination of African rabbis who can serve, lead, and advocate for their communities. In Judaism, having a rabbi is required in every community, as their role as spiritual leader is a fundamental part. Unfortunately, most African Jewish communities rely on visiting rabbis or online external guidance, which, while helpful, cannot fully replace locally grounded face-to-face leadership and guidance. Through structured rabbinic education— combining Torah study, halachic training, pastoral care, and community administration— African Jews can raise rabbis who understand both Jewish law and the lived realities of their people. Education ensures that leadership is not only learned but also sustained from within.

When African rabbis are educated and ordained, they become an important part of the community and its history. They ultimately fill in the gap of what has been an endless vacuum over a couple of decades. Just like other professions, trained rabbis are equipped to teach, resolve religious questions, guide youth, and engage government and international Jewish institutions with confidence. It’s a position that requires maximum community service. and the ability to help others. Additionally, these leaders command authority and safeguard authenticity by preserving traditions and adapting them responsibly to local and modern contexts. Education gives rabbis the tools they need to speak up for the needs of their communities, build collaborations, and inspire togetherness. The result is a strong foundation for spiritual growth and institutional stability in African Jewish communities. All of these are not rocket science, but a path many have followed and many are still following.

Understanding the importance of local rabbis should lead to increased efforts to identify ways to direct individuals toward this goal. Having an African-born and ordained rabbi is far more than having a religious functionary; he or she is not only a spiritual head but also a pivotal community architect and advocate. Another crucial point is the fact that such leaders can represent their communities with authority in global Jewish dialogues, make pleas to secure essential resources, and guide congregants with a resonant, authentic voice. By adapting the successful models of rabbinic training from the global diaspora to local realities, we ensure spiritual guidance is both deeply rooted and forward-looking. This helps us become less dependent on outside leaders and builds a strong, self-sufficient religious infrastructure that can support Jewish identity for generations to come.

In the field of agriculture, it is crucial to apply both ancient and modern wisdom. This is because food security has remained a critical concern for many African Jewish communities, especially those in rural settlements. Our agricultural heritage, embodied in laws like the sabbatical year (Shmita) and historical farming practices, provides a timeless framework for sustainable land stewardship. Teaching our communities these ideas along with modern agro-science gives us a powerful set of tools.

Through learning modern farming techniques—such as crop rotation, soil improvement, irrigation systems, and climate smart practices—communities can increase yields and reduce vulnerability to weather changes. Agricultural education transforms farming from a survival-based activity into a structured and productive system capable of feeding families and supporting economic independence.

Beyond the field, education unlocks access to technology and capital. Training community members to draft compelling grant proposals can secure funding. With proper training, communities can adopt technologies such as solar-powered irrigation and water management systems. When knowledge, technology, and planning are combined, food security becomes achievable, dignified, and scalable, ensuring long-term resilience for African Jewish households.

These results can be seen in the ongoing food security grants to members affiliated with the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance, SAJA. This association, formed over three years ago, was established to unite African Jewry and assist in rebuilding their communities. In an unprecedented move, the organization has been able to secure agricultural grants for more than 31 communities across 10 countries. To get the grants, the communities had to join SAJA for free and write a proposal explaining what project they would do with the money, showing their plans and how they would manage the project until the harvest and its finances.

Economic development and participation in key sectors is a new mentality that needs to be grown with everything in our arsenals. All through history, Jewish communities across the world have used education to identify practical opportunities and went ahead to propose solution in adequate measures. By acquiring special knowledge in business, finance, and management, they positioned themselves in sectors that drive nationwide economic growth. Education enabled them to match community needs with market solutions, creating wealth not only for individuals but also for communal institutions such as schools, synagogues, tech companies, and welfare programs.

We must groom a generation that understands not only how to run a business but also how to identify and fill crucial gaps in the marketplace, transforming community needs into viable, scalable enterprises. Jewish communities in Africa can draw important lessons from the pages of history. While many communities remain in rural areas, education can prepare individuals to participate in urban economies and national markets. Learning entrepreneurship, financial literacy, and vocational skills creates pathways into commerce, manufacturing, and service industries. Strategic relocation or economic engagement in capital cities allows communities to generate sustainable income, reduce poverty, and fund long-term development initiatives.

It is undisputed that education facilitates a necessary shift from rural subsistence to urban economic participation. Through vocational training, financial education programs, and networking mentorship, community members can fulfil long dreams of relocating to capital cities and commercial hubs. Here, they can establish businesses, engage in large-scale commerce, and integrate into the formal economy. Emulating the global Jewish model of creating mutual-aid loan funds (gemachim) and robust business networks can provide the essential seed capital and mentorship to launch more endeavors, creating a virtuous cycle of reinvestment and communal uplift.

Quality education must be inclusive, reaching men and women, children and adults alike. To make sure that both our boys and girls grow up to be knowledgeable Jews and exemplary citizens, we need to push for and build great Jewish day schools that offer a strong dual curriculum, with both secular academic excellence and deep religious study. These schools are the incubators for future professionals, thinkers, and community leaders.

Adult education is just as important. Many community members were denied formal schooling due to historical and economic constraints. Literacy programs, vocational training, and continuing education help adults gain confidence and participate more fully in economic, religious, and civic life. When education lasts a lifetime, communities gain more leaders, have less dependence, and have a sense of progress that lifts up every generation.

This dual-focused educational investment is the engine for penetrating and influencing key societal sectors. A young lady who has a good background in law and is guided by her Jewish principles can do great work while working for her community from inside powerful organizations. Educated community members can also leverage international opportunities, studying and working abroad to acquire skills and resources that they can repatriate. The idea is to establish a virtuous cycle in which education leads to opportunity, which then leads to more investment in the community’s intellectual and institutional capital.

Technology runs the modern world, and education is the key to being able to take part in it in a meaningful way. Imagine young African Jewish children learning coding, digital design, or problem-solving skills and developing a mobile application valued at over five million dollars? Such achievements are already happening globally. Education makes it possible for people to be creative, converting their curiosity into solutions that have actual effects on the economy and society. The capital and expertise generated from such a venture could revolutionize community infrastructure, fund schools, rebuild the welfare system, and support several Jewish-owned startups.

The possibilities go far beyond computer apps to include innovations in renewable energy, medical diagnostics, or fintech tailored primarily to the African continent. By leveraging online learning platforms, coding boot camps, and global tech networks, we can position our youth at the forefront of the digital economy. A single major success story might be a compelling example that motivates others and attracts funding support. Furthermore, technology education enables the global marketing of African Jewish creativity—whether through a world-best-selling digital novel, an online archive of unique traditions, a blockbuster documentary, or a consulting firm solving tech problems. These ventures share our voice with the world while creating sustainable revenue streams for communal rebuilding.

In conclusion, as has been emphasized throughout this article, almost nothing entirely new is being created on the surface of the earth today. Most new ideas, discoveries, and solutions that change the world don’t come out of nowhere. Instead, they come from carefully putting together ideas that are already out there, knowledge that has been tested, and real-world experience.

This reality places a tremendous responsibility on those called to leadership. It should be known that transformation—whether social, economic, or spiritual—does not happen by chance. It is driven by informed decisions. Leaders who understand how to connect ideas, interpret knowledge, and apply learning strategically are far better positioned to guide their communities toward progress.

A leader who lacks the capacity to combine existing ideas, resources, and opportunities may unintentionally hinder the growth of their community. Leadership is not defined solely by expertise in one area or by maintaining what already exists. True leadership lies in vision—the ability to look inward, to assess available tools, and to coordinate people and knowledge toward practical solutions. When leaders recognize where educational resources exist, how knowledge can be accessed, and how ideas can be applied locally, they place the future firmly within their hands.

Idealy, shaping tomorrow is a conscious act. It is the result of deliberate choices made today—choices guided by learning, insight, and responsibility. Through education, communities gain not only skills but also agency. They gain the power to decide, to direct their development, and to shape a future that is sustainable, dignified, and firmly grounded in both heritage and possibility.

The post Shaping The Future Through The Power Of Education. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

OVER the past three years, Jewish sporting activity in some parts of Africa has experienced a remarkable transformation, which is marked by a rise in youth participation and the steady growth of organized friendly competitions. In Nigeria, for example, what was once limited to occasional football matches during periodic youth Shabbat gatherings has evolved into regular sporting programs led by Jewish-owned and community-based clubs. Teams such as Maccabi FC Nigeria and Harachman FC have emerged as pioneers of this movement, helping to place structured Jewish sports back on the communal agenda.

Beyond football, other disciplines have also gained visibility. Athletes are now participating in relay races, volleyball, swimming, and table tennis, particularly among Nigerian Jewish communities. Outside Nigeria, women’s netball teams in Uganda and various sporting initiatives in Eastern Africa, like long-distance racing in Kenya, further demonstrate the territorial expansion of Jewish athletic activity on the continent. Together, these developments reflect a growing recognition of sport as a tool for youth development, discipline, and communal pride.

The Maccabiah has been organized by the World Maccabi Union since its inaugural tournament in 1932. The Games, often referred to as the “Jewish Olympics,” occur every four years and have seen more than 20 editions. They currently attract Jewish athletes from around 80 countries worldwide. Although there are long-established indigenous Jewish communities in Africa, the continent has historically experienced limited participation. This narrative is starting to evolve as African Jewish athletes increasingly position on the path towards international competition, including prospective participation in future Maccabiah Games.

Competing at this Olympic level requires consistent training, professional skills, and physical fitness. In response, a structured football initiative was launched in Nigeria to provide players with access to organized coaching, and regular football activities for youth development. Based in Abuja, Maccabi FC Nigeria was created as a national platform for Jewish footballers residing in the region, and eventually became one of the first African Jewish teams to prepare for potential participation in the Maccabiah, thereby hoping on making history in Jewish football.

Last year, during the build-up to the Maccabiah, their chances of participating in the football activities in the group stage became slimmer due to certain underlying factors and timing. But, by the time the Maccabiah postponement was announced on the 16th of June, 2025, something bigger was taking shape in the continent. It was like an awakening, and we saw inside the formation of the Maccabi African Confederation, Africa’s biggest Jewish sporting revolution.

Through networks such as the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA), Jewish athletes from several African countries and potential teams ready for organization came into the limelight. Much of this momentum has been inspired by the consistent advocacy of the Maccabi Nigeria Union, which has pushed for greater inclusion of African athletes in international Jewish competitions. To support this vision, country representatives and regional coordinators have been identified across sub-Saharan Africa, laying the administrative and managerial foundation for broader participation.

Following extensive consultation, organizers concluded that Africa required its regional and continental competition as a stepping stone toward international tournaments. This led to the decision to plan and host a maiden edition of the Maccabi Pan-African Tournament, MPAT, designed to bring together Jewish teams from across the continent in a structured and symbolic sporting event.

At the time of the first official announcement, three football teams had already indicated interest in participating in the tournament, which is scheduled to be hosted in Nigeria. The most recent club to join this list is Xriso Sporting FC, an Abuja-based side managed by Shlomo Yaakov, a chazan at Gihon Hebrew Synagogue. His efforts have led to the establishment of a training partnership between Xriso Sporting FC and Maccabi FC Nigeria.

Under this arrangement, players from both teams share training facilities and participate in joint practice sessions, enabling increased match exposure and improved fitness levels. The collaboration is intended to create a shared football environment in which players train together, play side by side, face each other in friendly matches, and gain valuable competitive experience ahead of the Pan-African tournament.

On 4 February, two defensive players from Maccabi FC Nigeria, Shimon and Chayim, featured alongside Xriso Sporting FC in a friendly match at the Sports Complex Stadium, which ended in a 4–4 draw. Continuing a few days later, on 8 February, Xriso Sporting FC secured a 4–2 victory against the visiting Peculiar Football Academy. These matches form part of a broader schedule of weekly fixtures designed to sharpen performance and build match fitness in preparation for the proposed pilot edition of MPAT.

As Nigeria prepares to host this historic event, interested athletes and teams are now able to register through the official platform of the Maccabi Nigeria Union. The tournament is expected to feature multiple sporting competitions, including football, tennis, swimming, relay races, and other track and field events. Participation will include both male and female athletes, with delegations anticipated from more than ten African countries.

While an initial date had been proposed, organizers have since adjusted the timeline, opting to hold the tournament after the Maccabiah in Israel. The period of Sukkot 5787, corresponding to September 2026, has been identified as the most suitable timeframe. This adjustment is intended to allow sufficient time for wider participation, improved planning, and the mobilization of financial and logistical support.

With these developments, the Maccabi Pan-African Tournament is shaping up to be more than a sporting competition. It represents a continental statement of unity, ambition, and a new frontier, offering African Jewish athletes a platform to compete, connect, and contribute to the growing legacy of Jewish sport on the continent.

The post Maccabi Pan-African Tournament: Xriso FC Set to Compete, Other Latest Updates. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

Hebrew education in Nigeria remains a developing field, despite the central importance of the language in Jewish religious and cultural life. Chazanim, who read well, generally conduct prayer services at a fast reading pace, but many people in the community, especially young people and older people, still have trouble reading. They also have trouble with other parts of learning Hebrew, like writing and understanding (saying and hearing) Ivrit. In most communities, a random statistic will show that most people who learned Hebrew learned it informally from friends or family members, with limited access to structured learning materials.

But recently, a couple of learning initiatives have emerged to address this gap. One initiative is that of the Gihon Eden Academy, which, along with other synagogue-based study classes and mini-schools, is working to teach Hebrew to kids and teens in a structured way. These programs aim not only to teach language skills but also to keep students motivated and connected to Jewish learning. After quite some years of consistency, Gihon Eden, while maintaining an in-class feature in Abuja, has also leveraged the internet to reach more students anywhere they are in the country. Their work has brought to light the need for textbooks and educational resources across Nigerian Jewish communities to boost the learning rate.

A significant contribution to this effort has come from Joburg Jewish Mommies (JJM), a women’s group based in Johannesburg, South Africa. They appear to be one of the biggest women’s associations, with a dedicated Facebook group membership of over 10,000 participants. The group mobilized the donation of Hebrew learning materials to Jewish communities in Nigeria, recognizing the importance of supporting emerging and thriving centers of Jewish education across the continent. Their actions to heed this clarion call reflect a growing sense of responsibility and solidarity between Jewish communities in Southern and West Africa.

The journey of the donated books to their destination, Nigeria, took time and persistence. Individuals from South Africa, including Chaya Mokone, initially transported some materials in small batches. However, logistical challenges left a significant number of Judaica books stranded for an extended period. The delay was more than 3 years.

Through coordinated efforts involving the Initiative for Progressive Judaism Development (IPJD), the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA), SAJA Nigeria, and the Avraham Ben Avraham Foundation (ABAF), the remaining shipment was finally airlifted to Nigeria. ABAF played a key role in planning the national distribution of the materials, ensuring that they reached communities across the country.

The distribution process itself was notable for its organization and accessibility. Courier costs were mostly covered by IPJD, with the remainder covered by ABAF, and beneficiaries were not required to pay for the books. Recipients also do not need to travel out of their state; they only need to get to the main bus terminal in their state capital to collect their packages. In total, five learning centers and 31 congregations in all received materials, with priority given to communities running Hebrew education programs.

In addition to Hebrew textbooks and dictionaries, the shipment included other essential Judaica, such as Haggadot for Pesach, Siddurim, Tanach, Festival prayer books, and Chumash volumes, Jewish literature, and assorted simcha cards, including laminated cards printed with Birkat Hamazon. This wide range of materials ensured that both educational and liturgical needs were addressed across the numerous communities that benefited from the generous offer of the JJM network.

One of the most remarkable aspects of the distribution was its reach. The distribution included several locations that had never received educational or religious materials before. Among them was a remote congregation in Enugu State in Eastern Nigeria, whose representative traveled to the state capital to collect the package, which came alongside the package of another shul in the city center. After receiving the books, he shared a message of gratitude on Facebook under the name Dubem Chukwu, writing:

“On behalf of myself and all members of Igbo Jews, especially those at the Tent of the Igbos, I wish to convey our heartfelt gratitude to the Jews of South Africa and especially to you, our big sister, for the wonderful gift of books donated to us. We are overjoyed, and may the joy and blessings you brought to us be multiplied to you in good times. Toda rabah.”

This message reflects the emotional and educational impact of the donation in communities that have long lacked access to Jewish learning resources. The same goes for the Beth Harachman Community in Akwa Ibom, whose growing number is faced with a lack of praying material and got some pieces in this shipment. Together with the Brachot Yeshiva, a primary and secondary school run by the synagogue management, they expressed their profound gratitude to the South African donors and everyone whose input and support helped make this dream a reality.

Special appreciation has been expressed to Prof. Francis Duru, Caroline Rozentvaig, Chaya Rut Mokone, and the members of Joburg Jewish Mommies, as well as to Kulanu‘s logistic support that helped make the project realize its goals. Their combined efforts demonstrate how grassroots initiatives, when paired with institutional coordination, can produce meaningful change across borders. This collaboration is just the beginning, and further efforts will be made to sustain this pattern, ensuring that the broad intentions are met.

While this educational project was unfolding in Johannesburg back in August, parallel discussions were taking place about strengthening Jewish continental cooperation through sports and youth engagement. This discussion involved representatives from Maccabi Nigeria and their counterparts in South Africa. These conversations have since evolved into plans for the formation of a Maccabi African Confederation, now resulting in a pilot Pan-African Maccabi Tournament scheduled to take place in Nigeria during Pesach. The overlap between educational support and athletic collaboration highlights a broader vision of African Jewish development rooted in learning, unity, and no doubt other areas of cooperation waiting to be explored between the two countries.

Looking ahead, continued cooperation between Jewish communities in Southern and West Africa will be essential. South Africa’s long-established Jewish institutions provide excellent examples of community settings, education systems, kosher infrastructure, and rabbinic leadership. This is something many communities across Sub-Saharan Africa want to achieve: a setup of a typical community settlement pattern with Jews living side by side. At the same time, Nigerian Jewish communities will continue to aspire to grow in commitment and capacity, creating opportunities for partnership that can strengthen both regions.

The donation of Hebrew and Judaica books by Joburg Jewish Mommies is more than a charitable act; it represents an investment in the future of Jewish life in Nigeria. By placing learning materials into the hands of children and educators, the move helps build a foundation for sustained Hebrew literacy, religious practice, and communal continuity. As these connections deepen, they point toward a future in which communities, irrespective of their location in Africa, stand not in isolation, but in active collaboration across the continent.

The post Joburg Jewish Mommies Aid Hebrew Learning Across Communities in Nigeria. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.