‘Economic incentives are limited’: What does Russia really offer Africa?

In 2019, I travelled to Berengo Palace, outside Bangui, to interview Russian mercenaries.

Once the home of Jean-Bedel Bokassa, the Central African Republic’s self-crowned emperor, it was now occupied by fighters from the Wagner Group. One of the first things they told me was not about the country they had come to defend, but the country they had left.

Seven years later, Wagner’s founder, Yevgeny Prigozhin, is dead.

In the Sahel, Wagner has given way to Africa Corps, controlled by Russia’s Ministry of Defence. Moscow is fighting a war in Ukraine, where Africans have been recruited, some under false pretences. An investigation by Journalists for Justice documented 502 African deaths by June 2026.

In Douala, Cameroon, I met Mama Regina, her eyes bloodshot as she held back tears. Her son Moses had gone to Russia to fight. His portrait hung on the wall.

“So handsome,” she whispered. Like so many families, she is waiting for his body. Once again, Africans are mourning men lost in someone else’s war on another continent far away from home.

In grief, some have turned to a small but growing Russian Orthodox church. Its Cameroonian pastor was trained in St Petersburg. He says he is here to preach the “good news”.

African leaders are gathering in Moscow for the Russia-Africa Summit. In 2019, 43 African heads of state or government attended the first summit in Sochi.

In St Petersburg in 2023, after Russia invaded Ukraine, only 17 heads of state came. Putin offered free grain to six African countries, which Russia later delivered. This year, the Kremlin expects delegations from 48 countries, including 22 heads of state.

“The economic incentives to go for the Russia summit are much more limited,” says Beverly Ochieng, a Dakar-based analyst.

Compared with United States-Africa and China-Africa summits, she says, Moscow offers fewer large investment commitments.

“The political incentives for attending are the primary reasons why these countries are there.”

For the military governments of Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, Russia offers something more immediate: Support to remain in power.

France was pushed out; Russia stepped in. Yet armed groups continue to attack, and Human Rights Watch has accused Africa Corps forces in Mali of killing civilians and torturing detainees.

The Soviet Union trained generations of African officers, politicians and students during decolonisation.

Ochieng learned Russian at the embassy in Kenya. Moscow, she says, can still play the card of “we didn’t colonise you.”

But Russia is facing Western sanctions and looking for economic opportunities in its relationship with African nations.

In Mali, construction has begun on a gold refinery backed by Russia’s Yadran Group; the Malian state holds a 62-percent stake. In Guinea, Russian aluminium giant Rusal operates bauxite mines and an alumina plant. In Niger, Rosatom subsidiaries are discussing uranium projects with the government, after the takeover of a mine formerly operated by France’s Orano. A separate attempt to sell existing uranium stockpiles remains in dispute.

Earlier this month, Putin said Russia’s aim was not to “steal something from Africa” but to “develop together”.

Russia’s trade with Africa was about $28bn in 2025, compared with China’s $348bn. The European Union exchanged nearly 355 billion euros ($395bn) in goods with Africa in 2024.

Sergey Eledinov, a former Russian officer and security analyst, sees a trap in Russia’s military bargain in Africa. By securing governments, Moscow may give them room to look elsewhere. “Survival doesn’t create loyalty,” he says. “It creates options.”

Ochieng also cautions against mistaking Russian flags at demonstrations for widespread support. They do not mean “all Africans are just sitting around being pro-Russia,” she said.

For Moscow, she says, the summit is a chance to demonstrate its continued “political relevance”, even if the West increasingly regards it as a pariah state.