Veganism vs. Tradition — When Modern Diet Trends Clash with African Food Heritage
In a Lagos café, a young woman orders tofu suya with almond milk latte. Just down the road, her grandmother pounds yam and cooks egusi thick with goat meat and palm oil.
Both women are African. Both are proud of their roots. Yet their plates couldn’t be more different.
Welcome to the new cultural debate where veganism meets African tradition, and the question isn’t just what we eat, but who we are becoming.

The Rise of Afro-Veganism: A Modern Movement or Western Import?
Over the past decade, Africa has witnessed a slow but noticeable rise in veganism from Nairobi to Lagos to Johannesburg. Afrocentric chefs, influencers, and wellness coaches are advocating for plant-based living, often linking it to health, sustainability, and compassion for animals.
Social media pages filled with smoothie bowls, chickpea stews, and dairy-free dishes celebrate this as the future of food.
But not everyone is clapping.
Many traditionalists argue that veganism is a foreign concept, imported from Western diet culture that does not fully understand African realities poverty, cultural rites, or food symbolism.
In Nigeria, meat isn’t just a dish; it’s a statement. It represents abundance, hospitality, and respect. To serve a guest soup without meat is often considered offensive or a sign of hardship.
So when young Africans begin to say, “I don’t eat meat,” it’s not merely dietary — it’s revolutionary.

The Historical Irony: Africa Was Once Naturally Plant-Based
Here’s the irony: long before “veganism” became a global trend, many African societies were already living plant-forward lifestyles.
Traditional African diets relied heavily on grains, legumes, vegetables, and fruits not by moral choice, but by natural design.
Millet, sorghum, beans, yams, plantains, leafy greens, and nuts formed the backbone of ancient diets.
Meat was reserved for special occasions, rituals, or guests.
So, in many ways, the ancestral African diet was far closer to veganism than today’s meat-heavy lifestyle.
What’s changed isn’t the food it’s the meaning.
Where plant-based eating once symbolized wisdom and balance, it’s now framed by some as deprivation or Western mimicry.

The Religion of Meat: Symbolism and Celebration
In African culture, meat isn’t just nourishment it’s ritual.
It connects to spirituality, masculinity, and wealth.
From the Eid ram sacrifice to Yoruba chieftaincy feasts, from Igbo traditional weddings to Christmas goat killings, meat carries symbolic weight.
It represents presence, celebration, and power.
A plate of jollof without meat feels incomplete because our traditions wove food and festivity into one identity.
So when veganism enters this space, it’s often seen as an act of rebellion or worse, disrespect.
Older generations ask, “What kind of woman refuses to cook meat for her husband?”
Religious elders ask, “Why reject what God gave us?”
And friends joke, “So you’re eating leaves now?”
These reactions reveal something deeper our food choices are tied to our social belonging.
The Western Wellness Influence
Much of Africa’s modern vegan wave is driven by the global wellness movement documentaries like What the Health, the rise of fitness influencers, and growing awareness about climate change.
But this has created tension. Some critics argue that African veganism often mimics Western ideals rather than reconnecting with indigenous food wisdom.
Instead of celebrating ewa riro (beans stew), okro soup, or ofe onugbu (bitter leaf soup), we now glorify quinoa, kale, and almond milk foreign foods with imported prestige.
The problem isn’t plant-based living.
It’s forgetting that our ancestors already mastered it.

Health, Environment, and Class Divides
There’s no denying the health and environmental benefits of eating less meat reduced cholesterol, better heart health, lower carbon footprints.
But in Nigeria and much of Africa, veganism still carries a label of elitism.
The average person struggling with food inflation sees “veganism” as something for the rich or the foreign-educated.
How do you tell a market woman feeding four children with ₦3,000 that she should buy almond milk instead of cow’s milk?
Or a herdsman that raising animals for food is unethical?
This is where the African context must be understood: our food debates are not just ethical they’re economic.
Cultural Evolution: The Rise of Afro-Vegan Identity
Despite the tension, something beautiful is happening.
A new wave of African vegan voices is redefining what it means to eat compassionately without losing cultural roots.
Chefs like Tomi Makanjuola (The Vegan Nigerian) and Rachel Ama (UK-based Afro-vegan influencer) are proving that jollof rice, egusi, and moimoi can thrive without animal products.
Their mission isn’t to “Westernize” African cuisine it’s to decolonize it.
To remind us that African food can be both ancient and forward-thinking, ethical and spiritual, traditional and trendy.

Beyond Diet: The Spiritual Side of Veganism in Africa
Interestingly, veganism is finding a spiritual echo in African thought.
Some traditional healers and Afro-spiritualists view it as a way to purify the body and reconnect with nature.
They reference ancestral practices of fasting, herbal cleansing, and moderation long before “detox culture” existed.
This merging of veganism and spirituality may be the bridge that unites both worlds the modern and the ancestral, the ethical and the cultural.
Finding Harmony between Roots and Reform
The vegan vs. traditional food debate doesn’t have to be a war.
It can be a conversation about identity, sustainability, and pride.
Africans don’t need to copy the West to eat consciously we just need to remember.
Our ancestors already practiced mindful eating, seasonal cooking, and respect for the earth.
Perhaps the future isn’t “vegan Africa” or “meat-loving Africa,”
but a continent where we eat with awareness not shame.
So whether your plate holds tofu or turkey, egusi or efo, remember this: food is a story. And as Africans, it’s time we start writing that story ourselves.

