Fathers of pan-Africanism such as the late Kwame Nkrumah, who wished for the day when Africa would be truly united, must have been pleased as they witnessed from the Great Unknown the coming into being of the Pan-African Parliament back in 2004.

But they must be turning in their graves, following the unseemly scenes at the body’s Midrand, Gauteng, seat a couple of weeks back, when disagreement among representatives from the various regions of the continent – which culminated in bitter verbal exchanges and scuffles – prevented the election of new office bearers.

In contention was whether the principle of rotation should be adhered to. A bloc of Parliamentarians from Southern Africa, including Economic Freedom Fighters leader Julius Malema – no surprises! – argued quite robustly that candidates from West Africa, a region that provided the last two presidents, should not run. But the West Africans and their counterparts from Central and East Africa would have none of that. That’s how the mayhem ensued, prompting the suits at African Union (AU) HQ, in the Ethiopian capital of Addis Ababa, to order a halt to proceedings for an indefinite period.

The question being asked is: Do we really need this AU appendage? This question is bound to arise, especially from South Africans, who host the institution and have bankrolled its operations since its inception those many years ago, with financial support also coming from foreign donors and the African Development Bank. Reportedly, Mzansi’s taxpayers pick up a tab of about R250-million each time delegates from across the continent roll into town.

Back in the early 2000s, we were told that the Pan-African Parliament, as the legislative body of the AU, would play an oversight role and have advisory and consultative powers. A noble objective indeed, although one would have preferred a body modelled along the lines of the European Parliament, which has binding powers and whose members are directly elected.

But what has been the Parliament’s record? Even keen Africa-watchers find themselves at a loss when this question is put to them. South African political analyst Lesiba Teefu, for instance, had this to say recently: “I wish I could be more positive about this entire saga, but I can’t. The idea behind this type of body has not been realised. Instead, we have regional blocs working for self-interests instead of working together. The Pan-African Parliament represents a costly and worthless talk shop.”

The institution – or at least its top official – has been synonymous with scandal in recent times. As some will recall, the outgoing president, Cameroonian Roger Nkodo Dang, had his first brush with scandal in 2018, when reports emerged that he was refusing to release an audit report on the state of the Parliament’s finances. It was also reported at the same time that he had refused a Ministerial-level residence offered to him by the South African government, choosing to book himself into the Michelangelo Hotel, in Sandton, at much greater expense.

He is also the person against whom staff staged a protest, saying they wished to highlight his multiple misdemeanours, including bulling, harassment, favouritism, disregarding AU rules and regulations and illegally swearing in Parliamentarians from Côte d’Ivoire.

It is clear from the foregoing that it is individuals – the Parliamentarians themselves – who have scored from the Pan-African Parliament rather than the ordinary people of Africa. It is the Parliamentarians who get to earn hefty per diems and stay in posh hotels. And those who serve in senior positions also see their diplomatic stature increase. It would not be far-fetched to say that the shoving and pushing we witnessed on the days of the aborted elections – there was more than one attempt – had more to do with self-interest than principle.