The Experience of Internal Exclusion Within the Context of Education in Africa: A Scoping Review of the Views of Philosophers of Education and Educationists

Abstract

Although philosophers of education and educationists in Africa recognize that individuals can experience exclusion while included, the various ways this occurs have not been synthesized. Additionally, little consideration has been given to how the experience of internal exclusion can influence a more targeted inclusion work and strategies that respond to the quest to decolonize. This review adopts the scoping review extension of the Preferred Reporting Items for Systematic Reviews and Meta-Analyses (PRISMA-ScR) that fills this gap. Sixty-six articles published between 2000 and 2024 met our inclusion criteria. Our review identifies physical activities, othering, epistemic de-rooting, language of competence or standard, policies, and space as six key sites of internal exclusion within the education setting in Africa. Our review also demonstrates that the inclusion that responds particularly to the quest to decolonize education would be informed by who (or what) is targeted for the inclusion, the site of internal exclusion, and the context and level at which the inclusion work is being undertaken. This review also highlights gaps in the literature and outlines recommendations. Particularly, future studies are required to deeply explore how context can influence individuals’ experience of internal exclusion.

1. Introduction

Decolonization entails the attempt to identify and dismantle colonial legacies that persist in any context. It (decolonization) is described as the effort to attend to the material and immaterial aspects of coloniality. The material aspects include the destruction of the environment and the killing of lives, while the immaterial aspects refer to the silencing of knowledge systems [1]. One way decolonial scholars have responded to the quest to decolonize is through a greater emphasis on inclusion [2], although this is not the only way. For example, some scholars [3,4,5,6] recommend that the inclusion of ignored knowledge systems and the recognition of individuals in discussions about them are important ways of realizing epistemic justice in advancing towards decolonizing knowledge production.

However, inclusion and exclusion are not binaries [7]. They intersect in the phenomenon known as internal exclusion. Although we provide an in-depth description of internal exclusion later in this study, it is worth noting that it is the experience of exclusion whilst included. For example, in health research and research collaborations involving foreign partners in Africa, some scholars have pursued inclusion through gender diversification and racial representation [8,9]. Internal exclusion can still occur despite gender diversification and racial representation. Notably, following the end of the apartheid regime in 1994, South Africa witnessed many tangible efforts to change demographics in many schools. Staff at many institutions of learning became more racially and linguistically diverse. Equally, to enable diversity in student enrolment in the post-apartheid period, some faculties devised alternative strategies for admitting students since the standardized South African matriculation examination processes for post-secondary admissions failed to correctly estimate the capacity of black people, particularly black students, for success [10]. Despite these efforts, features of inequalities and discrimination in society continued to play a vital role in influencing progression within these institutions [11,12]. Diversity strategies did little, if anything, to impact the culture—not limited to the combination of the values, knowledge systems, and social relationships—within these schools, but instead sustained them [13].

For inclusion work and strategies to be effective, that is, for them to respond to the quest to decolonize, it is worthwhile to interrogate internal exclusion as a useful first step towards understanding what must be done to decisively end exclusion in advance towards decolonizing. In the absence of this, gender diversity and racial representation (for example) risk becoming means of instrumental accommodation that merely broadens the demographics rather than a means of substantially countering instances and effects of racism, stereotypes, and discrimination in different contexts where inclusion is pursued through this means [14].

Philosophers of education and educationists in Africa have contributed a wealth of information on internal exclusion that can be used or extrapolated to think about more effective inclusion work and strategies which respond to the quest to decolonize. This insight is worth synthesizing. Some studies have described the ways education systems produce and perpetuate internal exclusion, for example, through tracking or grouping learners based on their perceived abilities [15,16]. As these studies demonstrate, such practices can produce unequal learning outcomes and opportunities for learners, keeping unjust social hierarchies in place. Other studies have also explained how internal exclusions are caused within the education system, such as through the curriculum, practices of instructors or their non-inclusive attitudes, school policies, and disciplinary measures [17,18,19,20,21]. In Africa, philosophers of education and educationists have equally dedicated some time to studying the various ways internal exclusion manifests, as well as the historical and economic factors that enable this phenomenon. One historical factor is Africa’s colonial history and how that history continues to shape/perpetuate unjust inequalities even in the post-colonial African educational system, such as through the subordination of minority groups [22] and educational policies that are implemented [23]. Equally, philosophers of education and educationists in Africa have dedicated considerable effort to outlining and explaining the impact and harm of internal exclusion [22,24,25,26]. However, what is still missing is a synthesis of how these philosophers of educationists in Africa understand internal exclusion within the educational context in Africa and how this can inform more targeted inclusion responses. It would be important to synthesize their thoughts on internal exclusion into a coherent body of knowledge that is informative and useful enough to influence a more targeted inclusion work. Additionally, very little consideration, if any, has been given to how their description of internal exclusion can shape inclusion practices that respond to the quest to decolonize, for example, education. These are critical gaps. To fill these gaps, this article undertakes a scoping review of how philosophers of education and African educationists conceptualize internal exclusion. As Zachary Munn and colleagues [27] observe, scoping, rather than systematic, reviews are preferable when the goal is to “clarify concepts” (as is the case with this article’s objective) or “identify knowledge gaps”.

2. Materials and Methods

This scoping review adopts a scoping review extension of the Preferred Reporting Items for Systematic Reviews and Meta-Analyses (PRISMA-ScR) to enhance transparency and replicability. Andrea Tricco and colleagues [28] have published a detailed description of the PRISMA-ScR. The extension has many benefits since it reflects recent advances for developing search strings, retrieving relevant materials, and reporting scoping reviews. The literature search procedures were informed by a research question that chronologically preceded them. To formulate the research question, the authors adapted PCC (see Figure A1), a widely suggested tool for developing insightful research questions [29].

This tool consists of three components: population of interest, concept, and context. Our population and concept, as well as context, are the reported experiences (in published works of philosophers of education and educationists) of internally excluded persons within the education context in Africa. Hence, the scoping review’s key research question is, “What is known about the experience of internal exclusion within the context of education in Africa in published works of philosophers of education and educationists?”.

2.1. Search Process

To answer the research question, we developed different search strings that are also informed by the research question. The search string was relatively uncomplicated since it connects relevant synonyms like “exclusivity”, “internal exclusion”, and “exclusion, using Boolean connectors (AND and OR). We also used opposites of search terms, like “inclusion” in the search string, to avoid bias. We developed various search strings with which we conducted our search in relevant databases (see

Table A1. Literature search.

Literature Search
PubMed	1st Search
Search Date: 12 August 2022 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Filters selected: Best Match Search String: (((Inclusive OR inclusivity OR inclusion) AND (exclusive OR exclusivity OR exclusion OR “internal exclusion”)) AND (education)) AND (African OR Africa OR ubuntu). (((Inclusive OR inclusivity OR inclusion OR “forms of inclusion” OR diversity OR access) AND (exclusive OR exclusivity OR exclusion OR “forms of exclusion” OR “internal exclusion” OR excluded)) AND (“higher education” OR “university education” OR education OR school OR tertiary)) AND (African OR Africa OR ubuntu) Hits: 220 Selected after title and abstract screening: 61 Selected: 48
PubMed	Additional Search
Search date: 12 July 2024 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Filters selected: Best Match Search string: (((Inclusive OR inclusivity OR inclusion) AND (exclusive OR exclusivity OR exclusion OR “internal exclusion”)) AND (education)) AND (African OR Africa OR ubuntu) Hits: 45 Selected after title and abstract screening: 2
PhilPapers	1st Search
Search Date: 18 August 2022 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Search Mode: Default mode: sort by relevance Search String: ((Internal exclusion) AND (education)) AND (Africa) Hits: 4 Selected after the title and abstract reading: 2
PhilPapers	2nd Search
Search Date: 18 August 2022 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Search Mode: Default mode: sort by relevance Search String: ((exclusion) AND (education)) AND (Africa) Hits: 13 Selected after title and abstract reading: 2
PhilPapers	Additional search
Search Date: 12 July 2024 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Search Mode: Default mode: sort by relevance Search String: ((exclusion) AND (education)) AND (Africa) Hits: 22 Selected after title and abstract reading: 3
Google Scholar	1st Search
Search Date: 22 August 2022 Selected Restrictions: no restriction selected Search Mode: Best Match Search String: ((Internal exclusion OR inclusion) AND (education)) AND (Africa) Hits: 310 Selected after title and abstract reading: 47

Table showing search strings and dates of search in relevant.

). Retrieved materials were exported to EndNote (version 20). The first author was generally responsible for retrieving the literature from the databases and the selection was subsequently revised by the second author. The authors have expertise in inclusion and equity issues, have conducted scoping reviews in the past, and have terminal degrees in their relevant fields. They equally have experience working within an educational context.

We considered PhilPapers and PubMed to be relevant databases. Both databases were supplemented with a search using Google Scholar, which is an academic search engine rather than a database. To increase the robustness of our search and the credibility of our findings, we used this academic search engine to find literature in databases other than PhilPapers and PubMed. PhilPapers is likely the database with the most extensive collection of philosophical papers. The database boasts more than 400,000 registered users and 2.8 million entries, including books, conference papers, and journal articles in over 5000 categories (Epistemology, Critical Race Theory, Moral Philosophy, etc.) and houses many philosophical papers. PubMed also boasts more than 36 million entries on life sciences (including issues on human relations like race, equity and inclusion) and biomedical topics. Finally, Google Scholar provides access to millions of entries that cut across many disciplines (including education) and publication types (book chapters, books, conference proceedings, etc.). Different search strings and key search terms were used to accommodate the search requirements for each platform (see Appendix B). Furthermore, we considered grey literature and recommended articles from other experts we consulted.

2.2. Inclusion and Exclusion Criteria

The search in the identified databases yielded 614 materials, including journal articles, conference proceedings, book chapters and sections, books, electronic articles, theses, dissertations, and research reports. These materials were screened to eliminate articles which failed to meet the inclusion criteria. In the first instance, we excluded materials based on publication type. Given available resources and timing, one book and eight theses and dissertations for academic degrees were excluded. We included only peer-reviewed journal articles, book chapters and sections, review articles, editorials, commentaries, electronic articles, and conference proceedings that clearly described internal exclusion or inclusion within an education setting in Africa, regardless of publication dates. Additionally, four articles were excluded because they were unavailable.

Since we limited the focus to an African educational setting, studies that focused on non-African settings were excluded. Only materials published in English were included in this review. Therefore, we excluded materials based on language, title, and abstract in the second instance. In the third instance, we excluded materials based on their target field or contextual focus. Consequently, studies that describe the experiences of these individuals’ parents or spouses were excluded from this review if they are neither employees, students, nor administrative staff at an education institution in Africa. Studies were included if they also described key stakeholders and their experience of internal exclusion, working in an education setting in Africa. Both empirical studies and theoretical publications that meet these conditions were included.

Searches were initially done in 2022. Additional searches were carried out in July 2024 to retrieve any new articles following system updates. Since issues around exclusion broadly have been explored from various disciplines, we did not exclude based on discipline. This stage necessarily involves reading the title and abstracts. A total of 104 texts met the inclusion criteria and were exported to EndNote, where we screened for and removed 38 duplicates. A full-text reading of 66 relevant texts was undertaken (see Figure A2 for the selection process).

2.3. Data Organization, Extraction, and Content Analyses

Disagreements about whether an article should be included for review were resolved through consensus. All articles that met the inclusion criteria were identified by a unique number between 1 to 66 and reviewed independently by the first author. To extract data from included texts, we adopted a narrative synthesis approach. This allowed us to code iteratively retrieved documents in Atlas.ti (7.5.7). The coding process consists of assigning codes to common ideas or ideas throughout all relevant and heterogeneous materials, implying that the codes were generated from the texts. The coding process relied on the coder’s reading of the text but was verified by the second author. Subsequently, generated codes were sorted into different categories based on what they share in common.

The coding process focused on key objectives relevant to the research question. We queried whether and how the primary, secondary, and tertiary educational settings impact the experience of internal exclusion. We also queried if and how gender and race will equally impact discussions around inclusive power structures at different layers of the educational setting (see Figure A3). Our analyses equally explored whether and how academics and administrative staff experience internal exclusion differently and whether and how the employees and learners or students in certain groups like LGBTQAI+ experience internal exclusion. We interrogated what more needs to be done to foster authentic inclusion or inclusive space at the primary, secondary, and tertiary levels. What areas ought to be targeted? What barriers are there to overcome?

To make sense of our findings and link these findings to established theoretical models, we adopted an education philosophy theoretical framework that combines many established methods for fostering social justice, developing pedagogical approaches that are culturally sustaining, ensuring the practical relevance of education and incorporating participatory approaches to education content creation [30,31,32]. Notably, this theoretical framework consists of: (i) social context, emphasizing the importance of taking seriously the contexts and background of key individuals impacted by education guidelines, policies, or standards; (ii) informed educational practices, insisting that more inclusive pedagogical multidisciplinary approaches, educational frameworks, and curriculum be informed by these contexts/background; (iii) ethics and responsibility, requiring all actors to be equally accountable and genuinely committed to the overall well-being and development of one another; and (iv) social relevance, querying the worth and relevance education contents’ and procedures’ capacity to contribute to the broader societal quest for transformation and development [30,31,32].

3. Results

This section reports the results of the review.

3.1. General Characteristics

A total of 66 studies met our inclusion criteria (see Appendix E). These include one conference paper, five book chapters, and sixty journal articles. A total of 36 articles employed empirical approaches, and 30 are conceptual papers. The reviewed articles were published between 2000 and 2024, with a majority published between 2015 and 2022. Many of the reviewed articles focused on the experience of internal exclusion by learners and academic staff within the education system in Africa at different levels, from primary to tertiary, including higher education, health sciences education, medical fellowships, and vocational studies. Six reviewed articles explored this question within the education system in sub-Saharan Africa, including Rwanda, Tanzania, Kenya, Botswana, and Sierra Leone. In comparison, three reviewed articles studied these experiences across multiple countries, including non-African countries like Brazil, Canada, Cyprus, and Finland, to name a few [10,33,34]. We included five studies [35,36,37,38,39] describing the experiences of exclusion by black people and Africans, although in a non-African education context.

3.2. Internal Exclusion, External Inclusion and External Exclusion

Reviewed studies differentiate internal exclusion from related terms: external inclusion and external exclusion. Our reviewed studies generally agree that external exclusion refers to the inability of different groups or individuals to access mainstream discussion spaces, leading to non-diversity in those spaces. Such denial of access may be imposed through cultural or political prejudices like ableism. Contrarily, external inclusion refers to practices of inclusion, such as gender diversification and racial or numerical representation, through enhanced recruitment efforts or employment equity policies that facilitate access to mainstream discussion spaces for groups and individuals previously excluded. As one study notes, in South Africa, employment equity frameworks and the national reorganization of schools in 2001 enabled black people, particularly black learners and teachers, to migrate to historically Indian, Coloured, and white Schools. As a result, many of these historically racialized schools have become ostensibly integrated [14].

Finally, internal exclusion is the intersection between inclusion and exclusion, demonstrating that included persons are not more heard by being included. Internal exclusion precisely explains how included persons can fail to participate in existing structures, despite having access to mainstream discussion spaces [11,14,40]. Equally, as an erosion of inclusion, internal exclusion enables values, ideologies, and knowledge systems to interact and intersect “in often highly unequal relations of domination and subordination” in presupposed contact zones and zones of respect for diversity.

3.3. Sites of Internal Exclusion

Reviewed studies identify six intrinsic and extrinsic sites of internal exclusion. They include physical activities, othering, epistemic de-rooting, language of competence or standard, policies, and space. The sites are locations where subtle practices of exclusion persist. They are extrinsic when they are externally imposed on the internally excluded persons. However, they can also impact intrinsic qualities and, in this way, impair the development of internally excluded persons.

3.4. Physical Activities

Reviewed studies note that sporting activities have been used to sustain the historical nature of an institution, stunt learning progress, and enact and re-enact normative ideas about the body and athleticism that sometimes force individuals to abuse steroids or develop stereotypical ideas about disabled persons. However, our reviewed studies provide different accounts of the sporting activities that are used, or how they are used, to reinforce inequality. For example, one reviewed study describes how inter-varsity sporting competitions at the University of Cape Town were perceived by black people as maintaining the historical whiteness of the institution [12]. Sometimes, this inequity is sustained through the non-provision of sporting activities that learners can participate in. Precisely, although many institutions in South Africa have made significant efforts to create learning environments that meet the specific needs of adolescents (learners) with cerebral palsy and overcome the exclusionary past, paradoxically, they also contribute to their exclusion from activities that can positively impact their learning. One study confirms that these persons often find themselves in liminal space since sporting activities that cater to their needs are habitually unavailable or overlooked [11,25]. As a result, they are, in most cases, forced to spectate on the sidelines while others engage in these activities. Watching from the sidelines while others participate further damages their psyche since it enfreaks them, forcing them to hide in corners, even in classrooms where their learning and whole human development are further hampered.

Similarly, one study [12] mentions that stratifications and inequalities are also sometimes reinforced through rugby in some ostensibly integrated historically white schools, since participation in this sport appears to be reserved for white people and Afrikaners while many black people, particularly black students, look on. Summarily, as a site of internal exclusion, physical activities reveal that participation in certain activities can be denied to others whose progress and development are thus constrained due to such denial.

3.5. Othering

Othering is a way of treating people as intrinsically alien to oneself. Our reviewed studies differ on how othering occurs. First, some reviewed studies confirm that othering can take the form of placement. This is a situation whereby separate instruction methods are “adapted to students’ levels but not necessarily adapting curriculum content” itself [34] (p. 532). This allows internally excluded persons to be treated based on beliefs about their characteristics: poor, black people, disabled, etc. Evidently, placement allows included persons to access and connect to a previously inaccessible space. However, it also gives rise to a new form of disconnection. As one study explains, treating individuals based on their specific characteristics likely allows the majority, non-disabled persons, non-black people, and non-members of the minority groups to deem them as worthy of their respect not because they are competent but “on the basis of their disconnection [or difference] from the majority” [41] (p. 357). This construction of difference enables the creation of labels that produce an affirmation of deficit. This affirmation is the conception of internally excluded persons as individuals to be rescued or changed [42]. Precisely, labels are harmful because they focus on the labelled as an object rather than a person [43]. Learners, teachers, and faculty can all be victims and perpetrators of othering.

Two studies also contend that strategies that emphasize placement sometimes fail to have a significant impact on the internal play of power relations from whence exclusion derives [43,44]. Notably, although they enable vulnerable individuals to access physical space with regular students or teachers, placement fails to allow realms of power to be contested by internally excluded persons who are often encouraged to be thankful for being tolerated by the dominant group [45]. As one author [34] (p. 534) remarks, “Such school practices [placement] have societal implications in that by perpetuating the status quo, they fail to contribute to the recognition of cultural and structural causes of inequality”. Additionally, placement also shifts focus to the included person rather than on the Centre, which renders internally excluded persons powerless, excluded, and isolated, even in an inclusive setting.

Second, some reviewed studies also confirm that othering can occur through creating boundaries of imagined borders—self or externally imposed social identities like special students vs. normal students, us vs. them, poor black people vs. rich white people, immigrant students and faculty vs. citizens, etc. [34]. One visually impaired participant in a reviewed study articulated their frustration with existing in a sighted social world as a situation of “us—the visually impaired persons” against them—the sighted [25]. Creating such boundaries enables the other—positioned within this context as the outsider—to be distanced, facilitating their stigmatization or promoting negative implicit attitudes (that further their disadvantages) to be directed towards them [36]. In this way, othering produces “negative representations of difference” [42] (p. 326).

Some institutions, such as the historically white-Afrikaans-medium University Northern University, and teachers have sought to bridge this distance by creating dual learning structures, opportunities, and educational practices for learners [12,46]. However, as some reviewed studies explain, creating additional and different spaces for some learners also makes it impossible for every learner “to participate fully as part of the whole group in all…activities” [46] (p. 6), “achieve friendships across racial divides”, or have equal opportunity to be “admitted to certain courses” [12] (p. 492). Moreover, when a separate learning structure is created for a student because the student is special, this risks harming the student’s self-esteem since the student could begin to believe what the label signifies. For example, a student who is called special might think that they are not normal [47].

3.6. Epistemic De-Rooting

Epistemic de-rooting is a way of disconnecting individuals from their knowledge systems or cultural basis. Although many reviewed studies agree that epistemic de-rooting is a site of internal exclusion, they sometimes differ on how this occurs. First, some reviewed studies mention that epistemic de-rooting occurs at the level of knowledge production that informs educational systems, curricula, policies, or pedagogies. Such knowledge production could fail to draw on the internally excluded persons’ prior knowledge [48,49], philosophies [49], their experiences of existing in the “matrix of domination” [50,51], modes of being, contexts, or ethnic or racial identities [52,53]. This is problematic since knowledge production often shapes education pedagogies or policies, classroom practices, learning, and human development [46]. Externally included persons’ success, belonging, or continued presence in that space or within the education environment may be determined by their capacity to assimilate hegemonic learning and developmental instructions [35]. The inability to internalize and assimilate could potentially cause these individuals to exist on the fringe and, thus, be internally excluded [10].

Some studies describe other implications of knowledge production that fails to draw on the internally excluded persons’ knowledge systems. Precisely, epistemic de-rooting can facilitate the imposition of hegemonic identities [48]. This point has been explained in the previous paragraph. In addition to the imposition of hegemonic identities, epistemic de-rooting can also prevent internally excluded persons from telling their stories in familiar ways [51]. Additionally, epistemic de-rooting occurring at the level of knowledge production may also allow the experiences of internally excluded persons to be negated or misrecognized. This has many implications. It could force internally excluded persons to define reality by dominant norms or learn about their history from the group whose knowledge systems dominate in the knowledge production. In this regard, what cannot be defined by the dominant ideology risks being discredited, dismissed or ignored [54]. As one reviewed study [41] (p. 365) reveals, “the real risk of epistemic de-rooting remains that not only are internally excluded persons… exposed to only one idea of who and what, for example, an academic is, they are also constrained in relation to their own ideas and hopes of what is possible for themselves”. Epistemic de-rooting of this type is even more critical because they determine the range through which knowledge is constructed, justified and validated.

Second, other reviewed studies mention that epistemic de-rooting can occur at the level of the disciplines or subjects that are not recognized or spotlighted within an academic structure. For example, one reviewed study describes how African philosophy has not been recognized adequately in the academic curriculum [49]. Epistemic de-rooting could equally occur at the publication level, for example, through the dominant culture that gives greater importance to articles published in Web of Science accredited journals. In South Africa, as one reviewed study [53] observes, research incentives or funding for articles published in Web of Science and International Bibliography of the Social Sciences accredited journals tend to be higher than other journal-accrediting databases like Scopus. The country’s National Research Foundation equally tends to give greater significance—in determining an academic’s international standing and rating—to their publication records in Web of Science and International Bibliography of the Social Sciences accredited journals. Institutions of higher learning equally consider publications in these journals for promotions to associate professor and full professor. However, very few of these journals exist for philosophers of education in the country, and most appear to prefer publishing empirical projects. The implication is that philosophers of education and their conceptual work are either constantly misrecognized, prejudiced against in promotion and funding, or are not given adequate opportunity to be featured nationally [53].

Third, some studies observe that epistemic de-rooting also occurs through modes of exchanging knowledge that are rendered irrelevant. For example, the elderly are often considered gatekeepers of indigenous knowledge and play critical roles in transmitting knowledge. A disconnect from cultural roots undermines this role since it means that the elderly can no longer transmit local customs and traditions to the next generation as they have been rendered irrelevant by new education pedagogies that fail to integrate this mode of knowing [48]. As some reviewed studies observe, this form of epistemic de-rooting facilitates the overrepresentation of the Centre’s or dominant group’s values or the imposition of hegemonic identities that render the values and beliefs of internally excluded persons irrelevant, illogical, inferior, or to the periphery [49,55,56]. It may also further alienate them from their roots, causing the emergence of a generation that is more in touch with the Centre’s interest, values, or culture, rather than their own communities [50,51,54].

Finally, epistemic de-rooting occurs through epistemological distancing in various ways. This may be due to the absence of deliberate efforts to assist internally excluded persons in engaging with the educational content. For instance, although faculty and students’ migratory patterns have significantly changed historically white schools, one study contends that teacher-to-learner ratios and learning structures continue to enable white persons and students from wealthier backgrounds to engage educational content better than others [14]. The distance to educational institutions also facilitates epistemological distancing. Some studies observe that many communities in Cape Town remain mostly segregated by race and economic status. With poor public transportation, the implication is that wealthier students have easier access to participate in school activities that sometimes run till late in the evening [10,11]. Additionally, epistemological distancing occurs through the failure to timeously make learning resources or resources vital for one’s epistemological benefits available [47]. These include a failure to timeously provide adequate (academic) support for hard-of-hearing persons [57], a physical environment accessible by wheelchair [58], and the absence of necessary (ICT) infrastructures in rural areas [59] to enable students, faculty members, and individuals with disabilities participate in mainstream academic activities, as well as adequate pay or professional support vital for the development of academic and administrative staff [34]. Epistemological distancing can also occur through the failure to see how internally excluded persons are discriminated against or see the same distortedly [60].

3.7. Language of Competence and Standard

Our review shows that language of competence can function as a site of internal exclusion in two ways. First, it may be used to disproportionately task externally included persons with responsibilities, often to the detriment of their career progression. One reviewed study describes this as a minority tax [39]. Notably, “the minority tax…is the burden of extra responsibilities [placed] on faculty of colour to achieve diversity and inclusion and contributes to attrition and impedes academic promotion” [39] (p. 2753). In this way, the internally included person’s competence is exaggerated, enabling the authorities to require them to perform more tasks than they can manage.

Second, the language of competence can also be non-specific in ways that allow variables like race, gender, and class to be built into an institution’s conceptions of standards, interests, remits, policies, students’ admissions, or teacher employments, giving institutions greater power to negotiate and implement their agendas uncontested within the ambit of the law. As some reviewed studies observe, this site of internal exclusion normatively exists in an institution’s pre-determined conception of how teaching ought to be done, how an institution should be organized, who can teach, what to teach, or the models of learning that should be implemented on campus [12]. An institution could implicitly invoke race or gender—under the guise of competence or standard—to query the pedagogical authority of a black person, female, lesbian, or transgender lecturer (for example, to teach sexual education) or ask them to resign for failing to meet up to the non-negotiable and vague standards [14,61]. As one reviewed study [41] (p. 362) remarks, “practices of exclusion [justified through a language of competence and standards] are not only defined by race. Instead, what one witnesses are intersections of identity constructions, which, in turn, are used to feed into more intricate forms of marginalization…and rendering of incompetent”.

For instance, one reviewed study comments that although South Africa’s School Bill of 1996 emphasizes a student’s right to be taught in a familiar language, an institution could still deny such student admission on the basis that they are a predominantly Afrikaans institution [62]. They could de-legitimize an internally excluded person’s membership in an institution for failing to conform to standards [50]; or control academic staff employment by denying employment to others for failing to be fluent in Afrikaans, which is widely used by their students [52]. As another reviewed study [14] (p. 170) also observes, “The use of standards, therefore, should not be understood as a judgement of excellence; it is about fitting in and assimilating to a pre-existing norm of being and acting”. In this way, the language of competence can intersect with epistemic de-rooting. In fact, although many historically white schools claimed to be zones of respect for diversity, black people, particularly black students, must assimilate the historical norms of white persons to fit in [12]. These supposed zones of respect for diversity are already lived in ways that are innately embodied and subjective, and those who fail to conform may experience being out of place. As a result of this, many black people (students) abandoned (aspects of) their own culture to exist in these zones, thus further ensconcing Eurocentrism [55].

The reviewed studies identify the language of standard or competence as an important site of social justice. This is because such language replaces rather than uproots the meaning of classism, gender discrimination or racism. As some studies explain, when internally excluded persons are rendered incompetent or unsuitable on a basis other than what “speaks to their professional qualifications, then they experience….non-recognition…misrecognition…or status subordination” [14] (p. 173). Practices of misrecognition of the internally excluded persons’ true capacities create habitus clivé, which is a situation whereby internally excluded persons doubt their own competence, believe themselves to be inferior and develop an imposter syndrome [50,61]. As one reviewed study remarks concerning the experiences of science, technology, engineering, and mathematical students: “The racialized, gendered and class habitus of the STEM-HWU field generates practices of “symbolic violence”…in that it provides young [black people, particularly black women] access to its field but simultaneously blocks their participation and progression within the field by its rules of the meritocratic (mis)recognition game thus creating ancillary feelings of inferiority for young [black people, particularly black women] in STEM disciplines. The effects of exclusion and academic failure make these women feel like “I don’t know-that” (or incompetent) and “I don’t know-how” (or inferior, “like you’re not worth being there”)” [50] (p. 24).

3.8. Policies as a Site of Internal Exclusion

Education policies are also sites of internal exclusion. Reviewed studies explain the different ways this is the case. First, as some reviewed studies show, many nations in Africa have enacted educational policies—like the education decentralization policies in South Africa—that aim to democratize school participation by redressing the underrepresentation of historically excluded persons or disciplines (like African philosophy) in the education sector at the macro-level [26,49], and institutionalize modes of learning that are familiar to learners at the micro level. However, policies do not always translate to practice, demonstrating that policies can be compromised by the composition or nature of the agent implementing the same [26]. These policies can also be non-specific in ways that allow them to be manipulated by the implementing agents to exclude others. For example, by devolving authority to schools and institutions, the South African School Act of 1996 provided the legal frameworks exploited by racially defined institutions to preserve their privileges.

Second, when policies are not connected to the included person’s experience or mode of being, they can also be a site of internal exclusion, as discussed under epistemic de-rooting. Third, the texts of policies themselves can contain exclusionary possibilities, containing latent forms of discrimination; for example, racism by “either weakly [encompassing] consciousness of race or in other ways lend themselves to being mobilized in racially exclusionary ways [to define institutional governance, access and curriculum” [26] (p. 107). Concerning the latter, one reviewed study observes that school governing boards have used the South African School Act of 1996 and Education White Paper 6, Special Needs Education: Building an Inclusive Education and Training System, to construct an identity for themselves “independent of the State’s aim to make South African institutions welcoming to all races”.

3.9. Space as a Site of Internal Exclusion

As sites of internal exclusion, spaces signal non-diversity. Spaces are not limited to metaphorical places of congregation, like the Centre, which is conceptualized as a place of power; they also include physical places like canteens. Although merely diversifying these places is generally recognized as insufficient to foster the inclusion that responds to the quest to decolonize, some reviewed studies explain that diversifying such places can be the first step towards fostering belongingness and comfort in these zones of inclusion work [10]. This is for several reasons. Importantly, places of congregation, especially the Centre, are places of identity constructions, determining terms of significance, belonging or safety, meaning-making, and setting norms. Social control of such spaces could potentially become a tool for forcing conformity or dominance. Thus, diversity could make the difference between inclusion and exclusion: the zone of being and the zone of non-being. For example, compositional diversity and menu diversity have been found to increase feelings of significance, belonging, and safety at institutions and their canteens [35]. In the absence of diversity, places of congregation can nurture a feeling of being left out in minority students and groups.

Besides hinting at non-diversity, spaces, as internal exclusion sites, some reviewed studies contend, also point to the absence of participation and deliberative engagement [14]. These spaces can be spaces of presence while preventing participation through the rules implemented [50]. Although congregation spaces are not fixed and can be remade, internally excluded persons can and do sometimes become victims of power relations that undermine their capacity to push their interests [12]. This is because these spaces are not necessarily immune to wider social processes or injustices. As one reviewed study [63] (p. 15) observes, “the wall is what we come up: the sedimentation of history into a barrier that is solid and tangible in the present, a barrier to change as well as to the mobility of some, a barrier that remains invisible to those who can flow into the spaces created by institutions”.

3.10. Antidotes to Internal Exclusion

The reviewed studies position the inclusion that matters as the antidote for internal exclusion. The inclusion that matters is the inclusion that responds to the quest to decolonize (education). Beyond facilitating access, inclusion work should enable participation (i.e., deliberative and iterative, allowing included persons to talk back and effectively shape conversations), integration, recognition, and being relevant and transformative to matter [41]. As one reviewed study describes, “Inclusive education is about why, how, when, where and the consequences of educating all learners. It involves the politics of recognition and is concerned with the serious issue of who is included and who is excluded within education and society generally” [64] (p. 4).

Additionally, it would also be targeted at specific zones, understood as specific persons or issues, since these targets would require different needs for their emancipation. The targets can vary from language to social or gender diversity, power relations, and policy reforms. Finally, what is required for inclusion that matters would also depend on the context and the level at which the inclusion work is being undertaken.

3.11. Addressing Policy as a Site of Internal Exclusion

To be effective, our reviewed studies recommend that inclusion work that targets education policies in Africa needs to (i) recognize how inequities and inequalities are produced and reproduced through them (these policies), (ii) reduce barriers to learning, (iii) redress inequalities of the past, for example, by instituting quota policies for female and black people representation in departments, management positions, and at levels where they are under-represented, and (iv) establish accountability mechanisms that make the reporting of the experience of oppression or failures to implement equitable policies possible [25,26,64,65].

3.12. How to Address Epistemological De-Rooting

Inclusion work that targets epistemological de-rooting in education in Africa should aim for cultural and epistemological inclusivity at different levels. The social world is not uncontested or neutral but informed by different ways of being, ideologies, and identities (to varying degrees) [14]. Our reviewed studies—that explore this question—are in agreement that cultural and epistemological inclusion is important for epistemic justice. They are also essential to enable included persons (i) primarily embrace their own culture (knowledge systems) while gaining cultural (knowledge) competence through awareness of their own biases to cultural differences, (ii) interrogate how these biases prevent respectful encounters with other knowledge systems, modes of generating knowledge, or democratic participation in what counts as knowledge, (iii) improve their knowledge of other practices by developing cultural and epistemic generosity instead of defensiveness that only reinforce hierarchies, and (iv) integrating this knowledge in their actions [13,54,55,66,67,68]. As one reviewed study [49] (p. 86) explains, cultural and epistemic inclusion is necessary to “correct historical misfortunes…enhance democracy, racial equity and cultural freedom so that people can choose to learn, speak their languages, practice their philosophic beliefs and participate in shaping their destinations and be able to choose who they want to be internationally”.

Our reviewed studies—that explore this question—also generally agree that cultural and epistemological inclusion has implications for how knowledge infrastructures within the education system are established. Notably, for education in Africa to be African, the learning strategies, pedagogies or curricula, mode of instruction, or education facilities would primarily speak from Africa by embracing the continent’s diversity of knowledge paradigms informed by ethnographic archive and integrate included person’s epistemologies and history of “their marginalization and painful memories” since this would allow black people and Africans “to come to themselves” and assert their being-ness [51] (p. 8). Such pedagogies or learning strategies would also cultivate interest in African culture, its proverbs, and its traditions, as well as enable the cultivation of the included person’s capacity to theorize their conditions and develop competence to participate in and promote the local way of life and its history, values, or customs, whilst not preventing the possibilities of learning divergent cultural experiences to facilitate global belonging [13,48].

3.13. The Antidote to the Language of Competence and Standard

As some of our reviewed studies note, language of competence is more challenging to render ineffective. Nonetheless, these reviewed studies make some recommendations. As a critical site of social justice, establishing structures that promote the development of all persons and entities within an educational institution would be vital in countering this form of internal exclusion [44]. Democratic participation in the governance of an institution, racial equity, and the cultural freedom to communicate or practice one’s beliefs within an organization are other suggested ways of responding to the language of competence as a site of internal exclusion [49]. Equally, reviewed studies indicate that the burden of extra responsibilities that often undermine the career trajectories of included persons could be leveraged, for example, to develop connections and expand their network in ways that advance their career advancement. For example, the extra burden of developing curriculum and course contents may usefully become an opportunity to learn how to develop a successful “educational research grant proposal” [39] (p. 2753). Institutions may also be mandated to transform their rules, policies, and critical organs that historically prevented black people or women from flourishing [67].

3.14. Countering Other Forms of Internal Exclusion: Agency

Although the reviewed studies did not discuss agency as a separate site of internal exclusion, they suggest that enhancing agency could enable participation in physical activities, reorganize space, and counter the language of competence as sites of internal exclusion. Unjust power hierarchies within institutions of learning do not cease with having access. Systemic practices and hegemonic structures, the reviewed studies note, may continue to hold in place mechanisms implicated in inequitable power relations that (i) position certain disciplines as more important than others and (ii) facilitate specific individuals’ (from a particular race or gender) easy access to institutional hierarchies [14]. For example, within the faculty of health sciences, medicine is often accorded primacy over other disciplines like physiotherapy. There are also hierarchies within medicine itself, with cardiology sometimes referred to as real medicine [56].

Additionally, systemic practices and hegemonic systems that inhibit an internally excluded person’s progress within an institution can hardly be dismantled, assuming the infrastructure of thinking (expressed through binary thinking) and models by which institutions are organized are not inversed. To recentre such structures, first, reviewed studies call for pluriversality rather than replacement. Pluriversality is understood as the “braiding together two distinct knowledge systems so that an individual can have a comprehensive knowledge base to understand one-self (the local) in relation to “other-selves (the global)” [55] (p. 902). As a process of knowledge production, it (pluriversality) is open to the diversity of knowledge and modes of being.

Second, space is also implicated in maintaining unjust structures [35]. Some reviewed studies contend that enhancing the agencies of included persons in these spaces can be one way of devolving them (spaces). Spaces are not immune to social control and the politics of belonging that sometimes render persons invisible or feel unwanted in a place [35]. As the reviewed studies note, invisibility is of different forms. Sometimes, it is about who belongs or is heard. Other times, it manifests through a non- or inadequate representation of certain groups, like women in senior positions where they can influence policy and decisions (for example, about the institution’s culture) [40], black people (fellows) in medicine [37,38], women in clinical surgery practice [61], or repression of modes of learning and disciplines like Theology and African philosophy [69,70].

Our reviewed studies make different recommendations for devolving spaces. For example, control of spaces can be devolved through promoting voices at three levels in an institution: “governance and management, classroom engagements and research” [71] (p. 116). Precisely, control of spaces ought to be devolved through enabling included persons to develop the confidence to contest governance structures that disadvantage them. Space can also be devolved by adapting curriculum contents (in ways that do not compromise the institution’s academic integrity) to meet the specific needs of internally excluded persons [10,41]. In research and publication, control of spaces can be devolved by embracing alternative modes of doing research as equally valid (beyond methods employed by medicine or social scientists) [54].

The reviewed studies also observe that an included person’s agency will be undermined if structural and professional support necessary for flourishing in the space they now occupy are not strategically provided [72]. Depending on who is targeted for the inclusion work, this may include providing electronic notes for hard-of-hearing students or providing special materials to learners with disabilities to navigate their context uninhibitedly or engage freely in physical activities that impact their learning [52,57]. Additionally, it may also include providing peer support, affording included persons the opportunities to use the possibilities of the space where they find themselves to realize their own interests, recognizing voices through funding structures that are specifically directed to them, intentionally seeking out internally excluded persons and the way they are internally excluded or conducting needs assessment to discover what internally excluded persons require to fully participate in the space they find themselves [34,50,52,65,72,73].

Finally, inclusion work that focuses on supporting included persons must be done in consultation with them to matter [58]. This is because internally excluded persons can see how they are internally excluded better than others. Thus, consultation with them is vital to disrupt their experience of internal exclusion [60].

4. Discussion

This review identifies physical activities, othering, epistemic de-rooting, language of competence or standard, policies, and space as six key sites of internal exclusion within the education setting in Africa. These sites of internal exclusion, in many ways, demonstrate how institutions can fail to implement socially contextual education, ethically and responsibly foster the wholistic development of all actors present in the field, and contribute to society’s development quest. These are core components of the education philosophy framework that this review adopts. For example, epistemic de-rooting does violence to an individual’s social context by—for example—ignoring that context or failing to incorporate it in pedagogical approaches. Reviewed studies also position inclusion that matters as the inclusion that responds to the quest to decolonize. This is the antidote for internal exclusion. Beyond facilitating access, the inclusion that responds to the quest to decolonize will equally enable participation, integration and recognition of included persons. It is also consistent with the education philosophy framework that this review adopts.

This finding has implications and matters for broadly pursuing inclusion in education. For example, the review has implications for implementing effective inclusion strategies and the education philosophy framework in the social sciences and humanities education. These implications are worth highlighting since internal exclusion is experiential rather than theoretical, and merely increasing the number of underrepresented groups in previously inaccessible spaces may not guarantee that included persons will feel at home in this new space. Here, we suggest practical steps that can be taken to ensure that the depth and nature of the inclusion strategies and initiatives enable included persons to enjoy a sense of belonging, pursue excellence, and feel heard. To this end, how the inclusion strategies are developed matters for countering internal exclusion and fostering a sense of ownership or belongingness in included persons. It is important to adopt participatory approaches that involve the array of institutional actors that will be impacted by the inclusion strategies in the development of such strategies [32]. As we note in the Limitations section, the experiences of support staff and cleaners are often missing when discussions about effective inclusion strategies and policies are had. So that inclusion strategies are impactful and targeted, it would be necessary to include all actors that would be affected by such strategies. This may be through town hall meetings or deliberative democracies that are designed for that purpose. Furthermore, it would be important to keep developing institutional actors’ inclusive skills, including social and cultural skills, particularly of teachers, lecturers, administrators, etc., through internal exclusion awareness programs, cultural awareness, and professional training [24]. This will foster respect of another’s diverse culture/social contexts and enable meaningful and respectful interactions among all institutional actors. Equally, investing resources in effective inclusion and equity initiatives, creating support systems and developing, as well as implementing, equity and inclusion policies that prohibit unfair discrimination, clarify channels for seeking justice by victims of unfair discrimination, and target systems and structures that keep inequitable practices in place, would also be useful in ensuring that included persons feel at home and are respected within institutional walls. Also, it would be important to periodically monitor and audit the progress of these inclusion strategies and initiatives. This may be through surveys that seek the perspectives of included persons on questions relating to their own experience/views of these inclusion strategies or initiatives. The survey should also be extended to the broader society. This way, society can contribute insights for developing inclusion strategies that are actually socially relevant.

Equally, this review also has implications for medical education in Africa. One implication of this finding is that practical and intellectual contributions are required to establish the inclusion that matters at different levels in medical education in Africa. For this context, inclusion must be sought utilizing multilevel strategic methods to enable different actors in medical education in Africa to enjoy a continuous, durable, and lasting sense of belonging, being there, and comfort [39]. It must be forged at the epistemic level, that is, in the knowledge production that informs the medical education curriculum. The emphasis on the epistemic level is not merely a request to go to the margins but to do medical education in Africa from that space. As Charles Odongo and Kristina Talbert-Slagle [74] have observed, medical education in Africa does not yet reflect African realities and experiences, including values. Kevin Behrens previously made this claim [75]. Doing medical education in Africa from Africa might require tremendous effort to construct medical education in Africa anew from that positionality. For instance, medical education ought to emanate and speak from Africa by emphasizing the exploration of African remedies and approaches to health. The justification for integrating such remedies would also be grounded in African values and modes of experiencing the world. Medical education in Africa would also aim to produce a medical professional that is fit to practice in Africa.

Besides its implications for pursuing inclusion in education broadly, the outcome of this review also has implications for responding to the quest to decolonize beyond the education context. Notably, this review can increase our understanding of how projects that aim for inclusion could create new forms of exclusion. For example, medical research and medical research collaborations involving foreign partners in Africa have increased in the last decade. Many African scientists now lead these projects. Medical research funding agencies are beginning to shift research workshops to African institutions. Our review emphasizes the importance of interrogating the extent to which these African scientists can set research agendas in such partnership or the nature of the credits they receive from collaborating [73]. Whose values are prioritized or taken for granted in medical research collaborations? Where are the epistemic and geographical locations of medical researchers doing research in Africa? Although collaborating in medical research partnerships, African medical researchers can still experience dislocation and misrecognition while participating in collaborative ventures that are discursively positioned as inclusive.

Medical research partners collaborating with African medical researchers would need to be morally committed to and accountable to transforming themselves (or their institutions) and willing to implement more inclusive medical research collaborations that enable African medical researchers to have greater control over research circumstances in Africa. The preceding could necessitate building capacity (in Africa) or transferring technology (to Africa) necessary for conducting research in Africa. It might imply that African medical researchers would occupy first and senior author positions in papers that report research in Africa.

At the funding level, funded medical research projects on the continent would be led by Africans and primarily benefit Africans and African communities. This can significantly reduce the likelihood of helicopter research or ethics dumping on the continent [2].

Evidently, the medical research and research collaboration landscape would require daily activism to recognize internal exclusion and challenge its intrinsic and extrinsic sites of internal exclusion. Such activism can be strengthened by government-led responses that mandate foreign partners in medical research collaboration in Africa to end inequitable partnerships within their regions and make restitutions for historical research inequities by ensuring that host communities in their regions can benefit from successful research projects.

Finally, for more impactful inclusion work within education and outside of the education contexts, it would be important to develop inclusive (education) policies informed by the antidotes to internal exclusion, as well as informed by the practical suggestions for pursuing qualitative inclusion described in this section. Here, we make some recommendations and actionable insights (on how to do this) for policymakers and educators. Like the practical suggestion for pursuing inclusion within social science and humanities education, the involvement of key actors would be required to develop effective inclusion policies that undermine internal exclusion. Although many studies have recommended different antidotes to internal exclusion, it would still be important for policymakers to engage educators and all those who would likely be affected in the development of such policies [76]. For example, inclusion policies that aim to create an environment where persons with disabilities can feel safe ought to involve this group in the policy development process. In addition to fostering a sense of ownership, this will also ensure that such policies incorporate the needs and perspectives of those they aim to serve. Furthermore, it would be important to ensure that policies that take seriously the point in the preceding sentence are implemented and complied with. For this purpose, implementation and compliance regulatory mechanisms would be required. To develop such mechanisms, cooperation between policymakers and educators would also be essential. Implemented policies should also be monitored and audited to assess their effectiveness. This way, less effective inclusive education can be identified, adjusted, and improved.

5. Limitations

This review has limitations. Many of the reviewed articles focused on education in South Africa. Thus, it is possible that these sites of internal exclusion are not representative of the views of all philosophers of education and educationists on the continent. Equally, the experiences of internal exclusion by support staff like cleaners and security personnel operating in educational institutions in Africa are missing in published studies. Additionally, it is also possible that the thinking about internal exclusion may have evolved since the most recent reviewed studies were published in February 2024. Equally, there are ongoing educational reforms in many African States. Thus, it is worth interrogating the impact of these reforms on the experience of internal exclusion in future studies. Finally, one other limitation worth highlighting is that the exclusion criteria we applied may imply that many important voices and views on internal exclusion would have been excluded. The alternative strategy would be not to exclude based on publication type or language, as we did. However, this is not likely feasible or manageable. Nonetheless, we do not think this is problematic since a key objective of the project to which this present scoping review belongs is to explore how internal exclusion is understood based on publication types. In this scoping review, we included only peer-reviewed journal articles, book chapters and sections, review articles, editorials, commentaries, electronic articles, and conference proceedings. In a current review study, we are exploring how internal exclusion is described in published philosophy and education books. We aim to conduct, in the future, a review of these reviews where we clearly outline how internal exclusion differs across different publication types. We would also explore in that future review of reviews whether the suggestions for addressing internal exclusion are the same across all publication types.

6. Recommendations

This review also yields some recommendations. Although this was an important question, our review did not observe any significant engagement with whether learners’ and academic staff’s experience of internal exclusion differs from other support staff’s experience within the education setting (e.g., cleaners, security, etc.). Hence, future studies should interrogate this question.

Furthermore, someone may query the practical relevance of our findings for other African education contexts. Precisely, how do our findings regarding internal exclusion increase the understanding of the same (internal exclusion) in other developing countries and less developed countries? Is it possible to apply the same lenses to observe internal exclusion in other African countries? These questions are important since, as we note under limitation, most studies we reviewed focused on the Southern African education context.

To answer these questions adequately, reviews and analyses that describe internal exclusion or what is implied by the term in other non-Southern African countries would be required. This is because the sites of internal exclusion in these non-Southern African countries may be different. It is also possible that these non-Southern African countries may have a different way of describing what is implied by the term (internal exclusion). We searched different databases (EBSCO, Web of Science, ProQuest, Scopus, etc.) to see if such reviews or analyses already exist, and we found none. We recommend that these reviews and analyses be undertaken. Nonetheless, during our search, we found a report that points out that disparities still occur within many so-called inclusive education spaces. This is the Report on the State of Transforming Education in Africa [77], jointly published by the African Union and UNICEF. Notably, the Report notes many disparities, like the disparity in the education of males and females in rural and urban schools, that prevent some children from feeling safe in learning environments in many African countries—similar to what our findings show. Cultural and religious factors still undermine the education of girls. Furthermore, while the number of children out of school continues to increase, the Report also notes the existence of different factors that undermine some children’s capacity to complete their education. One such factor is the near-absence of trained teachers who have the required social skills and educational background to foster a sense of belonging in children or drive the vision for an educational space where all relevant actors can feel at home.

Although the Report adopted an evidence-based approach to generate its findings, it focused mainly on primary and secondary schools in Africa, implying that studies are still required to assess the phenomenon of internal exclusion in African tertiary and vocational institutions. We now make this recommendation: It would be useful for these reviews and analyses to explore how internal exclusion is experienced across different education contexts in Africa. How do these experiences of internal exclusion differ across countries? What context-specific factors or histories shape how internal exclusion is experienced across different African countries and education contexts? Notwithstanding these recommendations, what is clear from our findings and the joint Report by the African Union and UNICEF is that to address the factors and disparities enabling internal exclusion effectively, different levels must be targeted. In addition to seeking diversity and increasing representation of previously underrepresented groups, the culture, standards, and systems that enable internal exclusion ought to be identified and dismantled.

7. Conclusions

Internal exclusion is a barrier to the inclusion that responds to the quest to decolonize as a process and an end. As a process, inclusion is a continuous activity of constructing and reconstructing truly inclusive spaces, interrogating and contesting realms of power that keep exclusive culture in place, and reducing inequities. As an end, inclusion that matters, which must be realized at different levels and contexts, ought to be the goal of inclusion work. As a barrier to the process and end of inclusion, our review demonstrates that internal exclusion manifests at six sites, including physical activities, othering, epistemic de-rooting, language of competence or standard, policies, and space. These sites are instructive for pursuing or institutionalizing the inclusion that matters in different contexts. Notably, these sites of internal exclusion provide helpful insights into what needs to be disrupted for the inclusion to be more targeted. Although this review has provided some insights into how the thinking about internal exclusion can inform practices in different contexts, future studies are still required to engage with this particular question deeply. Since context can influence how individuals experience internal exclusion, we recommend that future studies focus on other contexts beyond education.