India Meets Africa: A Journey Begins

A train ride, a stranger, shared history, and the spark of a connection that refused to stay just coincidence.

I didn’t expect a random metro ride to turn into a global conversation. But last week, somewhere between Rajiv Chowk and Green Park, I met a student from Kenya. What started as a casual complaint about Delhi’s brutal summer slowly turned into a conversation about identity, culture, development, and how our countries see each other. In just five minutes, the small talk dissolved and what replaced it was something meaningful, something that made me think.

I wasn’t expecting the conversation to go anywhere, but the longer we spoke, the more something clicked. India and Kenya didn’t feel like two far-away places anymore. There were similarities, shared stories, even shared struggles. It made me realize that our countries aren’t as distant as the map makes them look.

As the train kept moving, the conversation moved with it. At one point, I asked how they ended up here, all the way from Kenya to Delhi. When they began talking about education, another question quietly slipped into my mind: What does education look like in Africa? And how does it compare to ours in India? The most important factor after all .That one question didn’t stay small. It opened doors. Soon, we weren’t just talking about college life. The conversation drifted into history, culture, identity, and how our countries have grown . Sometimes differently, sometimes almost exactly the same. When I say ‘exactly the same,’ I don’t mean identical, but familiar almost parallel. The moment they mentioned Nelson Mandela, I found myself talking about Mahatma Gandhi. Different countries, different eras, different journeys… yet somehow the same fight: dignity, independence, and the right to shape their own future

As the train switched tracks, so did we. History faded, and suddenly we were talking about culture, not the textbook kind. The real one, music, food, festival jobs. They spoke about Kenya’s rhythm and free food, and I laughed because it felt exactly like us, obsessing over Bollywood songs and spicy chaat.

Different country, different language, but somehow the same energy. Culture wasn’t a distance, it was a reflection. As the train slowed and finally stopped at the next station, reality ruined the conversation before silence could. I had to leave. We exchange Instagram handles in rush, the way strangers do when they know the moment was too unexpectedly meaningful to lose. While stepping off, one question looped in my head like a stubborn alarm, will I ever meet that person again? There was something oddly refreshing about meeting someone so far from home, someone who belonged to a different continent, entirely yet felt strangely familiar. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was the timing, maybe fate was bold. I don’t know what it was , but what I know it was something .But by the time I reached home, I convinced myself the moment was over, but there was a weird pull, like an unfinished sentence, that made me open my laptop before I knew it. I was typing Indian-Africa relation, culture exchange between India and Africa, and Indian-African collaboration. And the more I searched, the more surprising it became. Indian-African were not just two places sitting far apart. On map, they shared something deeper, almost like an old friendship. Most people forget it existed.

What I discovered was more than just history or culture. Economically, India and Africa are deeply connected in 2024–25, bilateral trade crossed USD 100 billion, with India exporting pharmaceuticals, textiles, engineering goods, and technology, while Africa supplies critical minerals, oil, and raw materials. Indian investments in Africa have surpassed USD 75 billion since the 1990s, funding infrastructure, healthcare, education, and technology projects. Politically, the relationship is formalized through platforms like the India–Africa Forum Summit, first held in 2008, where leaders meet to plan sustainable development, capacity-building, and strategic initiatives. Reading all this, it became clear that my brief metro conversation was a small reflection of a larger story one where history, culture, economy, and politics intertwine, connecting people and continents in ways I had never imagined.

The more I read, the more it felt unreal that something so big could start from a random seat, in a random coach, on a random Tuesday afternoon. That conversation didn’t feel accidental anymore. It felt like a reminder that the world isn’t as divided as borders make it seem. Maybe that’s the funny part about life: sometimes you learn more from a stranger in 20 minutes than you do from textbooks in 10 years.

Somewhere between laughter about food, serious talk about freedom fighters, and curiosity about education systems, something shifted in me. I realized that India and Africa aren’t just two regions with occasional diplomatic handshakes. They are two stories growing side by side sometimes in sync, sometimes separately, but always aware of each other. And maybe that’s what partnership truly means: not competition, not convenience, but continuity.

As I closed my laptop that night, I caught myself smiling at a thought I wasn’t expecting: maybe I wasn’t supposed to meet that Kenyan student again. Maybe they were just a bridge a living reminder that the world is connected in ways we don’t notice until we slow down and listen.

Still… part of me hopes our paths cross again.

Not because of the conversation we had.

But because of the one we never got to finish. Maybe partnerships aren’t built in conferences, speeches, or treaties first.

Maybe they start in places like metro compartments, between strangers who realize they aren’t strangers at all.

And maybe… just maybe… this wasn’t the end of a random encounter.

Maybe it was the start of a story.

A personal one.

And a global one.

At the same time.

By Manpreet kaur