Migration in Africa is a pressing issue that resonates with the continent's key social problems: citizenship, development and mobility. In addition to the overseas migration, reflected in academic debates on themes such as new cosmopolitanism and imagined communities, there is a considerable migration within Africa too; in fact, most African migrants are unlikely ever to leave the continent. Bruce Whitehouse's book documents the lives of one such group of intra-African migrants, West Africans in Congo-Brazzaville. Based on ethnographic fieldwork, it argues that despite an extended history of migration and settlement, West Africans have developed few social ties with the Congolese community, participate minimally in Congolese cultural practices, and frown upon Congolese–West African amorous liaisons. But does that mean that the West Africans are strangers, as Whitehouse argues?

One part of the book says: yes. It uncovers a social world that is very much on its own, inward-looking, and seeking to distance itself from Congolese society. West Africans live between the Congolese in Brazzaville rather than among them. This manifests itself especially in the way in which migrant parents deal with their children. Migrants' social life is permeated by a discourse of purity, and children raised abroad are called tabushi, indicating their lesser command of West African languages and cultural practices (p. 183). In order to avoid this stigma for their children, parents often send young children to their fathers' natal villages rather than expose them to Congolese society. This is expensive, however, and in everyday practice it is an option open mainly to better-off migrants. There is one notable exception to this practice: the children of established West African traders and landlords (in the sense described by Abner Cohen) mix with a heterogeneous circle of West African guests. These children are immersed in West African culture and language, and they are therefore not considered tabushi back home.

Another part of the book says: perhaps. It looks at the West Africans as a group defined by shared business interests, mostly the import and retail of goods. Here the author argues that the migrants are successful precisely because they maintain their status as outsiders. A problem with this interpretation is that the book offers contradictory evidence for it. The following two quotes underline this: ‘I was constantly astounded at the capacity of these immigrants – especially the women – to gain fluency in Lingala and interact with Congolese with what seemed like complete comfort and ease’ (p. 20); and ‘In Brazza, [Yacoubou] cultivates contacts with the Congolese and political elite that are essential for his business affairs’ (p. 152). Likewise, the author notes that, after a Malian migrant was shot dead by the Congolese police, West African shop owners went on strike in protest and ‘Other immigrant entrepreneurs, such as Lebanese and Chadians, closed down in solidarity with their West African colleagues’ (p. 181). Thus, the activities and interests of many West African migrant traders in Brazzaville appear to be shaped by more complex factors than those associated with their existence as a relatively distinct group of ‘strangers’.

Looking at the West Africans' migration background can help to unravel this complexity. The book shows that many of them are ‘young, male, and often single – so-called aventuriers – at or near the beginning of their migratory career’. Also, ‘many of the young migrants had … been on their way to [the diamond mines of] Angola overland when difficulties forced them to earn some money and regroup for another attempt’ (p. 153). Others had Europe on their minds but could not make it and ended up in Brazzaville. In other words, few of them are there because they actually want to be there. They identify as sojourners, not as settlers, and they think of themselves as being on their way to more prestigious destinations. They try to distance themselves from Congolese and others living in Brazzaville in an attempt to live up to their own expectations. However, as the evidence above suggests, in working out solutions for practical everyday problems, they engage with Congolese too. Hence their relations might ultimately have to be understood situationally, rather than as representative of a structural category, the stranger.

Even though the book does not conclusively resolve the ‘stranger-ness’ of West African migrants in Brazzaville, it uncovers fascinating aspects of migrant social life that often remain outside the limelight of academic attention. In addition to uncovering major ambiguities in the migrants' relations with the Congolese host society, the book makes a case against the idea of African cultural and religious solidarity that underpins the more optimistic interpretations of migrant networks that emphasize the social capital of migration ties (pp. 75–8). It also has an eye for conflict that many conventional migration studies lack: ‘I knew many business owners in Brazzaville who had been betrayed by someone close to them whom they had trusted.’ These insights, coupled with an extensive literature review, make the book an interesting read for students of African Studies as well as those interested in broader socio-economic transformations on the African continent.