Malibamatso River Bridge, Photographer: Motikoe Khiba

After exploring different models of diaspora councils, diaspora youth intern Zeline Dennis reflects on what these institutions mean for her, why representation matters and what her perfect Basotho Diaspora Council would look like.

When I first began researching and comparing councils, I did not expect the work to feel so personal. The task was simply to map different institutional councils and assess their differences. However, as I began to cluster the institutions and find out more about their priorities, I realized how important these institutions are for diaspora who have a deep desire to still be connected to home – including me.

As someone who has lived, studied and worked away from home, I have come to realize that the way countries understand and value the contributions of their people abroad plays a big part in how they choose to engage their diaspora and how willing they are to listen. When countries create institutions, policies, frameworks or programmes to engage the diaspora, it demonstrates appreciation and affirms that these communities are an integral part of the development of the nation. Diaspora councils are one expression of how governments formalise diaspora engagement and reinforce ongoing connections with their nationals overseas.

What are diaspora councils?

Diaspora councils are advisory or consultative bodies that help connect nationals abroad to their home country. I identified 13 different councils from three continents. Their institutional diversity reflects different political contexts, diaspora sizes and policy priorities. In the report, you can find information on the legal statuses, funding mechanisms, membership structures and thematic priorities of these councils.

Yet, as I researched these structures, from Mali’s federated council to Uruguay’s autonomous civil society model, I realized that when you take away all the formal categorisations, what remains is that humans desire belonging, connection and representation. Beneath the legislation and the formalities, the different council models all aim to offer a structure via which the diaspora can communicate with its government and maintain a connection with home.

The voices we miss

There was one burning question that kept arising throughout my research: who gets included and who doesn’t?

Many councils take measures to ensure geographic diversity, but very few take steps for gender, youth, disability or professional diversity. I also see that association-based councils can unintentionally exclude unaffiliated individuals, whilst councils whose members are state-appointed risk underrepresentation of the diaspora and politicisation.

My dream diaspora council

I come from Lesotho, a small country, and with 95% of the diaspora residing in South Africa, I have found that those of us who live in other places, struggle to connect back home apart from through family or friends. Aside from consular services, there are no major institutions that engage with the Basotho diaspora on a regular basis.

Seeing the diaspora councils of other countries made me more aware of the importance of representation and inclusion because I saw myself in the gaps – in the missing youth voices and in the absence of gender-inclusive mechanisms. This reflection has shaped my view of what inclusion should mean in practice.

Taking the case of Lesotho and the features of a diaspora council, I would propose the following features for my dream Basotho Diaspora Council, drawing heavily on inspiration from the hybrid models that Senegal, Algeria and Tunisia have put in place. I believe the combination of diaspora-elected members and state-appointed members will ensure that institutional follow through will be more likely.

• Geographic representation and membership: Regional constituencies to ensure geographic coverage, enabling the government to understand diaspora needs and interests based on location. Geographic representatives would be elected by the diaspora, while state appointed professionals could chair specific thematic committees to ensure technical expertise guides areas such as citizenship and consular affairs . The council would include additional reserved seats for youth, women, and other underrepresented groups to guarantee structural inclusion rather than relying on volunteers from such groups. These additional seats would be diaspora elected from organizations and associations.
• Thematic priorities: Determined by the mixed-type of members in so far as the state appointed members would bring forward national priorities and policies of relevance, whilst diaspora elected members would bring forward community needs, lived experiences, and issues that matter to Basotho in their respective regions. The dedicated thematic committees would help operationalise the priorities. As a starting point, I would suggest to have a youth and education committee focusing on the mobilization of young professionals and students and a citizenship and consular affairs committee to work on implementing voting from abroad mechanisms.
• Legal status and funding: A council with independent legal status that is formally recognized by the Government of Lesotho would provide sustained diaspora engagement, whilst a hybrid funding model combining membership contributions and government funding would help ensure that the council is not totally reliant on the government and can retain autonomy for day-to-day activities.

For me this project was more than just desk research. It was a reminder that diaspora engagement is ultimately about people: their stories, their identities, their expertise and their desire to remain connected to home. And if councils are designed thoughtfully with inclusion at their core, they can become powerful spaces where those connections grow stronger. Hopefully this will be the case for the Basotho diaspora one day soon.