Ivory Coast renames streets to remove colonial links

Ivory Coast has launched a sweeping campaign to strip away the last vestiges of French colonialism from its streets, schools, and public institutions. In a country where independence came in 1960, the names of colonial governors and French cities have long remained etched into daily life. That era is now being deliberately and symbolically erased.

The government’s bold initiative, launched formally in 2017, is in full motion. Over 14,000 streets across Abidjan’s 13 municipalities are being renamed to honor Ivorian figures—politicians, artists, scholars, soldiers—who helped shape the nation. It’s a cultural recalibration, a strategic effort to rewrite public memory in a way that centers national pride and sovereignty.

Among the most notable changes: Boulevard de France is now Boulevard Marie-Thérèse Houphouët-Boigny, named after the country’s first First Lady. Boulevard de Marseille, once a nod to the French port city, has been renamed Boulevard Philippe Yacé, in honor of the first speaker of the Ivorian parliament.

The shift goes beyond symbolic gestures. It’s a decolonial act with generational significance. More than 75% of Ivory Coast’s population is under 35. For these young people, the names that shape their geography also shape their worldview.

“A young person walking past a street named after a colonial governor will not have the same feeling as someone who lived through colonization,” said urban planner Wayiribe Ismail Ouattara. “It is important for Africans to identify with the city’s development.”

This identity shift is happening not just in signage but in sovereignty. Ivory Coast has reclaimed the Port-Bouët military base from French forces—an emblem of lingering colonial presence—and renamed it after General Thomas d’Aquin Ouattara, the country’s first army chief. After six decades of independence, this marks the first time Ivorian names and leadership visibly replace colonial symbols on such a large scale.

The campaign involves not only government mandates but consultation with civil society groups and traditional chiefs, ensuring the process reflects the people’s voice. New names are selected with care and meaning: honoring national heroes, preserving indigenous language, and re-centering African values.

For many Ivorians, the changes are long overdue. “The names of the streets in Ivory Coast should belong to Ivorian revolutionaries, Ivorian politicians,” said Franck Herve Mansou, a 31-year-old technician. “In the future, we can explain to our children who is who.”

Jean Bruce Gneple, a salesman, echoed that pride. “President Félix Houphouët-Boigny was and will remain in the memory of all Ivorians. This is a tribute to him, and we are proud of it.”

Ivory Coast’s campaign to decolonize its public space is not just about names—it’s about reclaiming narrative power. It’s about who gets remembered, who gets honored, and what that says to the generations walking those streets today.