In the rapidly evolving landscape of the 21st century, the promise of the digital frontier is often marketed as a panacea for global unemployment, particularly within the African continent.
However, as Adio Adet Dineka (AD) reveals in this compelling episode of In Conversation with Trevor hosted by Alpha Media Holdings chairman Trevor Ncube (TN), the reality of this "digital future" is frequently a "race to the bottom" defined by precarious labour and systemic inequality.
A political scientist, writer, and AI researcher, Dineka brings a unique, "all-rounder" perspective to the complexities of the modern technological age—a trait reflected in his very name, which stems from a blend of his Ghanaian heritage and his father's Italian influences.
Below are excerpts from the interview.
TN: Welcome to In Conversation with Trevor, brought to you by Heart and Soul Broadcasting Services.
I am in conversation with Dr Adio Adet Dineka, a political scientist, AI researcher, and writer. Looking at your name, it sounds as though you are an African from another country, not Zimbabwe. Tell us the story behind your name.
AD: I get that question almost every time I introduce myself, especially when I am in Zimbabwe, because it is a very unusual name.
I have also been told my accent does not sound Zimbabwean, though I am not sure what that means. The name was basically given to me by my dad.
There are two stories regarding how I got the name. Part of it is that we have Ghanaian heritage, although I am Zimbabwean now.
We have lost connection with the Ghanaian side of our family, so we are fully Zimbabwean.
Another part of it was that my dad was taught by an Italian, so they mixed the names Adio Adet to mean all-rounder.
When he heard me, he said, "I want my son to be an all-rounder, so I will call him Adio Adet."
TN: So Adio Adet means all-rounder?
AD: That is what I have been told, yes.
TN: The fascinating thing about your journey is where you started: hospitality management, public administration, and then a PhD in Political Science on digital labour.
That is an unusual journey. AI seems to be your focus right now. At what point did AI and digital labour become the things that pulled you in? When and how did that happen?
AD: After my Master’s at the University of Zimbabwe (UZ), I could not, for the life of me, find a job. I applied everywhere, using the "spray and pray" method—sending out as many CVs as possible and praying for an answer. I only received two interviews, one of which I knew within five minutes I would not be getting.
When this happened, I wondered what to do. I went online and found digital jobs. I am a writer in my other life, so I was writing, but I was being paid literal peanuts—perhaps three, four, or five dollars for a thousand words. That meant I had to churn out volume just to make a bit of money.
TN: What were you writing?
AD: Everything and anything. From ghostwriting biographies to writing impressive emails and love letters for people's partners. You go onto platforms like Fiverr and Upwork and bid for these gigs. The unfortunate thing is that it is a race to the bottom. Someone says, "I am paying five dollars," and you say, "Okay, I will do it for four". At the end of the day, you win the contract for two.
TN: How long did you do that for?
AD: This went on for around two years. Before that, after my Bachelor’s, I worked as a librarian in Zimre Park and then as a programme director for an organisation that ran libraries. But after my Master’s, I wanted something bigger and better, so I jumped into this online work.
I eventually realised, "No, this cannot be a future." I disagree with every politician who says this is the future. It is not, because no one can have a future where you get paid two dollars to write a thousand words.
So, I figured the only way forward was to advance my education and do a PhD. Everyone who knew me said, "Politics is your forte; do something about politics". But I felt that everyone was doing that.
Every person who has left the country to do a PhD is studying political science, specifically regarding voting and human rights. I would not find my niche there. I believed this issue of digital labour was where I would find my niche.
So, I jumped into it. I wrote my PhD proposal and applied for a scholarship with the Catholic Academic Exchange in Germany. They sat me down and said, "You are writing science fiction," because I was claiming that in the future, people would be working mainly from home.
They said, "No one likes to work from home." Then Covid came, and everyone was working from home. They called me back and said, "Actually, maybe your PhD makes sense."
TN: What was your PhD on? What was the thesis?
AD: When I began, I wanted to discuss digital labour, working from home, and how this could be influential for young Africans. But as I dug deeper, I realised where this had come from. Instead of looking at it through a lens of "digital optimism" or "techno-optimism," I wanted to unearth the negativity. My dissertation was about unveiling the techno-optimism surrounding African discourse and showing that there is no positivity there.
TN: There are a lot of young people listening and watching right now in the diaspora who are surviving basically by doing what you were doing—churning out 3 000 words and so forth. And you are saying there is no future there.
AD: Honestly, I do not see it, especially now given how AI is being used. I do not see a future there.
TN: So, AI and digital labour grabbed you. But I want to go to a point—do you remember a particular day, one of your lowest moments, as you were earning that US$2 for 3 000 words? What were the most difficult periods of doing that work?
AD: I think the main issue was knowing what I was capable of. I was sitting there with a Master’s degree in Public Administration from the University of Zimbabwe. I had written a travel column for The Herald for a bit and had published with a travel magazine in South Africa. I knew I was good, and I had already finished a novel. But this was not a life. How long could I continue with this?
One day, around 2am, I was sitting at my computer writing, and rent was due. My wife had gone to a work event, but I could not join her because I had to work.
I was looking at how much I was missing in terms of life, because I had to be on my computer morning, noon, and night. I was recently married; I had someone’s daughter in my house, but I could hardly make ends meet.