Can You Be Human but Not a Person?
Not Every Human Is a Person
Imagine you are sitting under a mango tree in a small Akan village. Someone points at a neighbour and says, “Onnye onipa.” You know that person is clearly human. Yet the phrase means: “He is not a person.” What could they possibly mean?
That puzzle lies at the heart of much African moral thought. The Nigerian philosopher Ifeanyi Menkiti (1940–2019) put it this way: “The various societies found in traditional Africa routinely accept this fact that personhood is the sort of thing which has to be attained, and is attained in direct proportion as one participates in communal life…” In other words, being a biological human being is just the starting point. Personhood — the status of being a full member of the moral community — is something you earn.
If you treat others cruelly, cheat, and never show compassion, you are still a human being. But the community may say you are not a person. That judgment is not about stripping away rights or kindness. It is a judgment that you have failed to develop a good character.
Character Is Everything
Why would character matter so much? Because in many African languages, the word for “ethics” or “morality” is the same as the word for “character.” An Akan speaker does not say, “He has no morals.” They say, “Onni suban” — “He has no character.” The same pattern appears in Yoruba, Igbo, Shona, and many other languages. Morality is not mainly about following a list of rules. It is about what kind of person you are becoming.
Character is not something you are born with. The Akan say, “One is not born with a bad head, but one takes it on from the earth.” Your character grows out of the actions you repeat. If you persistently tell the truth, honesty becomes a habit — a settled part of who you are. If you keep taking what is not yours, dishonesty hardens into a trait. As one Akan thinker put it, “Character comes from your actions.”
This means every human baby starts out morally neutral — neither good nor bad. That neutrality opens up real moral choice. You are not a puppet of a god or a fixed nature. You build yourself through the deeds you choose.
Good, Without God
A lot of people assume that African morality is tightly tied to religion. After all, the continent has often been described as “incurably religious.” But many African philosophers argue that moral rules are not handed down by gods.
Why? Because traditional African religions are non-revealed. No prophet ever claimed to receive a complete moral law from the Supreme Being. The gods might be powerful, but they do not provide a ready-made ethical manual. So moral values do not come from divine commands. They come from human experience — from learning what helps people flourish and what harms them.
The Ghanaian philosopher Kwasi Wiredu (1931–2022) insisted that “the Akan moral outlook is … logically independent of religion.” Among the Lovedu people, the Kriges observed that “conduct that promotes smooth relationships … is good; conduct that runs counter to smooth social relationships is bad.” The standard is human welfare, not supernatural will.
Because morality is anchored in our shared life, it is profoundly humanistic. Humanism here simply means that human needs and interests are the basis of right and wrong. The good is what makes community possible.
One Big Human Family
If morality is about how we live together, then it must reach beyond the people who look like us. African thinkers often express this through the idea of a universal family. An Akan proverb says, “Honam mu nni nhanoa” — “Humanity has no boundary.” A farmer’s field has an edge where they must stop digging. But there is no edge to the cultivation of friendship and care.
Another proverb declares, “A human being’s brother is another human being.” In many African cultures, there is no word for “race.” People are simply people. A person with mixed parentage is still a member of the one human family. This is not just a nice slogan. It is meant to guide action. The Scottish explorer Dugald Campbell (1862–1925) wrote of Bantu societies: “A native will give his best house and his evening meal to a guest, without the slightest thought that he is doing anything extraordinary.”
Generosity and hospitality are not extra credit. They are what being a good human — a person — demands.
Two Heads, One Stomach
A famous Akan symbol shows two crocodiles with separate heads but a single shared stomach. The stomach represents the common good — the basic things every human being needs to flourish: peace, security, dignity, fairness. The common good is not just a pile of individual wants. It is more like a meal that nourishes everyone at the table.
Because we all need the same fundamental goods, the community and the individual are not enemies. When the common good is secure, each person’s well-being is also secure. That is why African morality is strongly communitarian — it puts the life of the community at the centre, without crushing the individual.
This shows up in everyday sayings: “The right arm washes the left arm, and the left arm washes the right.” “Man is not a palm‑tree that he should be complete.” “Life is mutual aid.” You are not supposed to be a lone hero. You are supposed to lean on others and let them lean on you.
Because the common good is everyone’s business, African ethics does not draw a sharp line between duties you must do and good deeds that are “beyond the call of duty.” In Western ethics, a supererogatory act is one that is praiseworthy but optional — giving away all your clothes, for example. African humanistic morality finds this idea strange. If an act truly helps another person, why would it not be a duty? To treat human needs as optional is to fail at being a person.
Why This Still Matters Today
Maybe you grew up thinking morality is about obeying a list of rules, or believing in a certain god, or claiming your individual rights. The African traditions presented here offer a different lens. They ask: What kind of person are you turning yourself into, right now, through your habits and choices?
You are not a finished product when you turn ten. Your personhood is a project. Every time you help a struggling classmate, refuse to spread a rumour, or share something even when it is hard, you are carving out a better character. In the Akan view, you are becoming more of a person.
That thought can be both heavy and hopeful. It says that every small moral action matters — not because it ticks a box, but because it shapes who you are. And it says that anyone, anywhere, can earn personhood by living in a way that feeds the common stomach.
Think about it
- Imagine a child who never shares and is often cruel. According to African ethics, is that child still a person? Why might the answer matter for how we treat them?
- The common-good idea says your wellbeing is tied to other people’s wellbeing. Can you think of a real situation where helping someone else actually strengthened you?
- If you could pick one character trait that would make you a better “person” in the African sense, what would it be? What small habit could you start today to grow that trait?
