Learn how Web3 Mirrors Africa’s Indigenous Governance Systems.
Photo by Laura Allen on UnsplashYears ago, my grandmother used to say: “No one person owns the land; the land owns all of us.” Honestly, I didn’t understand the true meaning of the saying until recently. It unraveled fully when I started writing about Web3, the evolving technology that belongs to no one, yet serves all of us.
In my previous post, I shared how I stumbled upon crypto and blockchain technology by chance — How a writing gig turned into a career in crypto and Web3. Now, where I previously saw code, I see culture. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that Africa has long lived by an unwritten rule of decentralization.
While our ancestors knew nothing about consensus algorithms, they had consensus hearts. Therefore, it makes sense that decentralization is not just an innovation for us — it is a homecoming. The goal is to help Africans recognize what we have and how to take full advantage of it.
Luckily, I was born in my village and spent the first seven years of my life there. While I can’t easily narrate our way of life in my earliest years, I know that power was not held arbitrarily but shared. To settle a dispute, every voice was heard. To this day, we have communal palm plantations tended by everyone, and when it is time for harvest, no one eats alone.
So, before the advent of decentralized autonomous organizations, we had decentralized African organizations. While we knew nothing about smart contracts, we built strong communities founded on trust. From Umunna – the extended family bound by shared ancestry — to village assemblies and farm clusters, our societies ran on distributed governance before it became a term in the Web3 space.
In my opinion, centralization was introduced into Igbo communities through colonial influence. From strange political systems to imported religion, our culture and value systems were drastically altered. Control was mistaken for coordination, yet, our essence never left. Now with Web3 and decentralization, the African spirit is awakening once again.
As a practicing Christian, I understand the importance of faith. At its core, it denotes believing in something unseen yet real. Obviously, there is a strong parallel with blockchain technology. While invisible, the evolving technology is verifiable. Like faith, it demands trust and can reward patience.
There is no denying the fact that we Africans understand faith deeply. Before trusting the systems we could see, we’ve trusted in things we couldn’t. With Web3, it is easier to trust in working systems. The only challenge is getting people to understand new technologies and what they offer.
Blockchain technology and Web3 introduce a new kind of technology. Even without prophets and priests, we can believe in protocols and our peers. They demand that we believe in humanity’s ability to self-govern with integrity, given that transparency reigns supreme.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not trying to dismiss organized religion in Africa. Decentralization doesn’t eliminate the need to commune with God. On the contrary, it teaches us to approach the maker directly instead of relying on middlemen who claim to speak for Him.
Writing about blockchain has opened my eyes in many ways. It helps me reflect positively on the African spiritual system, which prioritized community and not hierarchy. A system where everyone is both participant and priest, having direct relationships with their gods.
While reflecting on our lost opportunities, we must understand that Africa didn’t become centralized by choice. We were practically reorganized not for collaboration, but for control. And the impact has been enormous. We, the current inhabitants of this rich planet, inherited bureaucracies designed to extract not empower.
When we discuss things like corruption, we forget to mention the deprivations that must have forced people into betraying their own values. Our immediate ancestors were forced to trade consensus for compliance, and the generational impacts still loom large. It feels like we’ve forgotten that governance starts from the ground up and not top down.
Understandably, we have to do away with victim mentality. But then, it is important that we understand who we are and how we got here. That way, we can adapt to the changing world. The spirit of decentralization never died in Africa. It was disrupted, and Web3 feels like Africa remembering itself.
Sometimes, we mistakenly view destiny as a straight line. Meanwhile, it is more like a loop, returning to what was once forgotten. That is definitely the case with decentralization in the African context.
A concept like peer-to-peer, for instance, echoes the spirit of Ubuntu — I am because we are. When we talk about banking the unbanked, it feels more like restoring dignity to the underrepresented in our communities. Transparency in governance mirrors the ethos that kept village councils honest.
If you understand these, you will understand why decentralization resonates so deeply in Africa. You will understand why Nigeria leads in crypto adoption. Decentralization speaks our mother tongue, though it uses digital grammar.
So, decentralization is familiar. Previously, we were forced to participate in systems designed elsewhere by foreigners. Now, we have the chance to build systems that mirror our souls. Web3 gives us the canvas, and we are willing and ready to build sustainably.
While the transformative powers of evolving technologies like blockchain and AI cannot be overemphasized, we must understand that they are never enough. Codes can be helpful, but only culture can save us. Morality, empathy, and virtue cannot be forked or programmed. Even when trust is encoded into working systems, humans are still the heartbeat.
I strongly believe that Africa can lead the world in Web3 adoption. However, there is a strong need to merge digital innovation with ancient wisdom. We must understand that decentralization is more about distributing authority responsibly and not escaping it for any reason.
With the kind of growth we’ve witnessed in the blockchain universe within the past decade, it’s safe to say that our major challenge is not technical but ethical. We have to build systems that honour community over profit and economies that reward contribution, not just speculations. This is the clear way to fulfil our destiny.
With decentralization, kings and temples aren’t necessary, as long as we have networks, nodes, and genuine participants. But faith remains critical. It reminds us that transparency can heal corruption. That collective ownership can rebuild broken nations. With faith, the current and next generation of Africans will not ask for permission to innovate.
To be honest, writing about web3 has been empowering. By drawing parallels between faith and decentralization, I see a better future for Africa. I believe that with the tools we have now, we can build sustainably and reconnect with our ancestors morally and spiritually.
A hundred years from now, I hope that when historians are documenting our era, they can boldly say that Africa did not only adopt Web3 but completed it. From what I’ve learned, decentralization was never a concept to learn; it was a memory to recover.
So yes, Web3, to us, feels like destiny. It may seem like a new thing to other people, but it is our ancient culture. Our communities were shining examples of thriving decentralized organizations and we can make them great again.
About the Author
Michael Kalu is a Nigerian writer, content strategist, and Web3 Storyteller. He’s been in crypto since 2020 and has been involved in various projects, including his latest experiments, Crypto-Crazy Football Fans and the Ekuke memecoins. His short story collection, The Book of Ekuke: Breakthrough and Other Stories, is based on these new projects. You can follow him on Linkedin and X.
Web3, Faith, and the African Spirit: Why Decentralization Feels Like Destiny was originally published in Coinmonks on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.


