GIC director Josine Overdevest reflects on a striking work of art by Congolese artist Maurice Mbikayi, whose Techno Dandy challenges us to look beyond access and ask deeper questions about digital justice, environmental responsibility, and human resilience. Drawing on two decades of experience working to bridge the Digital Divide, she explores how true inclusion begins not with devices, but with dignity, ingenuity, and a redefinition of what it means to belong in a digital society. You can read the original here and we also publish it below.
On my recent visit to the Norval Foundation in Cape Town, I came across Bilele: Dressing up for an Occasion by Congolese artist Maurice Mbikayi. I was struck by the elegant figure dressed in a fascinating costume made from discarded keyboards and computer cables. Reading more about this contemporary artist, I learned that he collects and re-appropriates e-waste, imagining a world in which it isn’t just dumped but refurbished and recycled[1].
He expresses himself through sculpture, installation art, and performance, like the Techno Dandy, as he calls the figure in this piece.
The impact of his Techno Dandy, positioned in the Cape Flats, has stayed with me. It holds within it two questions that I’ve been grappling with for some time:
Firstly, how do I re-imagine my work, and my role, in bridging the Digital Divide?
When I first got involved in digital inclusion in South Africa’s basic education system, my “why” was clear: to use technology as a tool for young people to gain access to information, to connect with others, and to unlock learning and working opportunities. In short: to be included.
Two decades later, the reality is that the Digital Divide is only widening. Technological development is accelerating, while the pace of integrating digital tools into teaching and learning remains painfully slow. This delay is a result of many, interlinked factors: limited access to reliable connectivity, devices, funding, lack of curriculum alignment, and, crucially, the absence of real will to drive meaningful integration.
And this only covers the layer of access to technology, and learning how to use it.
Mbikayi’s Techno Dandy confronted me with a deeper, less acknowledged reality. In many developing countries, like the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), not only is the access to technology scarce, but these countries also bear the environmental and economic brunt of the digital world. The DRC, for instance produced 74% of the world’s cobalt in 2023[2], an essential mineral in rechargeable batteries. They export low value-added raw materials, without any local processing, and have to import high value-added devices, along with increasing volumes of digital waste.
E-waste is one of the fastest growing waste streams globally. It increases by 2.6 million tonnes every year, projected to reach 82 million tonnes by 2030, a 33% increase from the 2022 figure[3]. The sad fact is that many developed countries dump their digital waste, often illegally, in developing countries with inadequate e-waste management systems, resulting in severe environmental and health consequences.
For me this adds an environmental and economical dimension that deepens the Digital Divide.
Maurice Mbikayi views this as a circular journey: “from the continent where humanity began, out into the world through extraction and innovation, and back again through technological waste.”
Which brings me to my second question:
What would our digital society, and our efforts to bridge the divide, look like if we placed human values and capabilities at the centre?
Mbikayi’s Techno Dandy is inspired by the tradition of the Sapeur. Sapeurs hail from Brazzaville and Kinshasa in the Congo. These stylishly dressed gentlemen, and women, the Sapeuses, belong to La Sape, La Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes : the Society of Ambiance-Makers and Elegant People.
La Sape began during colonial times, influenced by European fashion and the dandy tradition[4]. It became, and remains, a form of self-expression that affirms dignity and identity in the face of oppression, poverty, and dictatorship.
In the Techno Dandy, I see the same ingenuity, pride and resilience that I’ve encountered in the pan-African inner city of Johannesburg, like the waste reclaimers who collect paper and glass and transport their loads to recycling hubs on the most ingenious carts.
In my work too, I’ve seen that digital integration succeeds most sustainably in schools where what I call the “human infrastructure” is strongest: where school leaders, teachers, parents and learners work closely together for the common goal of equipping young people to thrive in our digital society. Motivation, commitment, and accountability are the key values that drive the projects, which often require creative interventions to make the physical infrastructure work.
And now I believe my two questions begin to merge into one:
What would bridging the Digital Divide look like if we began not with the technology, but with human dignity, creativity and connection?
Perhaps, like the Techno Dandy, we’d find ourselves dressed not only in discarded cables, but in pride, reclaiming our roles, reimaging our tools, and redefining what inclusion truly means.
The IFIP IP3 Global Industry Council (GIC) serves as the principal forum for employers and educators to engage with IP3 and shape the global ICT profession. Each month, they feature relevant and insightful ideas in IFIP Insights.
Artwork: Bilele: Dressing Up for an Occasion, Maurice Mbikayi, 2016
[1] Maurice Mbikayi: https://mauricembikayi.com/
[2] Digital Economy Report 2024, UN Trade & Development: https://unctad.org/publication/digital-economy-report-2024
[3] Global E-Waste Monitor 2024, ITU and UNITAR: https://ewastemonitor.info/the-global-e-waste-monitor-2024/s
[4] Sapeurs: Ladies and Gentlemen of the Congo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOd3cmrGlt0
