In a startling demonstration of the power of linguistics and the art of misunderstanding, the African Union (AU) convened its much-anticipated Ghanaian Parley this week, where leaders gathered to discuss pressing continental issues ranging from agriculture to climate change. The halls of the conference were buzzing—though mostly with echoes, as the delegates ardently debated solutions that never managed to escape the walls of their echo chamber. This year’s theme, “Together We Can, Even If We Can’t Understand Each Other,” was a clear nod to the diverse linguistic tapestry of the continent, where more than 2,000 languages are spoken. Delegates, equipped with an arsenal of translators and dictionaries, seemed determined to communicate, but instead created a cacophony that could only be described as an elaborate game of broken telephone. For instance, discussions on sustainable resource management devolved into a heated debate over the merits of pineapple pizza, with one delegate from Madagascar earnestly arguing that the secret to agricultural success lies in embracing toppings rather than policies. The voice of reason—a lone economist from Uganda—attempted to steer the conversation back to renewable resources but was promptly interrupted by a passionate monologue on how the climate crisis can be solved by sending all the world’s politicians on a permanent holiday to the Bahamas. Meanwhile, the self-proclaimed savior of African unity, a South African politician known for his fervent speeches and charming anecdotes, quickly turned his time at the podium into a rehashing of his recent trip to the statue of Nelson Mandela, dramatically reciting lines from his favorite biography. Unfortunately, a significant portion of the audience, lulled into a state of blissful confusion, began contemplating the wisdom of arranging a day dedicated to celebrating local public transit systems instead. As if to enhance the levels of absurdity, a proposal for a pan-African committee to address education standards turned into a brainstorming session for a new learn-to-dance initiative, which proponents argued would stimulate youth engagement across demographics. However, when it was revealed that a dance-off would be required to finalize delegates' decisions, the debate quickly dissolved into an impromptu cha-cha contest, all while the clock ticked away on an agenda that had become as irrelevant as yesterday’s news. Frustrations mounted as the summit, which was initially scheduled to last two days, stretched into a fourth week with little more than a consensus on hosting a quarterly “Hang Out and Share Snacks” event. Participants exchanged business cards adorned with motivational quotes and left with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, having further enriched the echo chamber rather than addressing any actual continental crises. In response to their evident success, an AU spokesperson joyfully announced plans to make the Ghanaian Parley an annual affair, proclaiming, “If we can’t resolve basic issues, at least we’ll have more time to perfect our group selfies.” This revelation inspired a newly formed committee focused entirely on improving selfie angles, complete with a designated “Instagram Ambassador” whose sole job will be crafting the perfect hashtags. As the delegates filtered out, glued to their phones in a post-conference flurry of social media engagement, the rest of Africa held its breath, hoping perhaps that by next year, they would find one small nugget of coherent, actionable resolution buried somewhere in the echoes of laughter and confusion that characterized the grand event. For now, the continent is left questioning whether solutions can indeed be just an echo chamber, resonating endlessly and effectively solving nothing.