The BBC's "Why I love Africa" spot encapsulates everything that drives me crazy about attitudes to the continent

I've never been an early riser, but these days my mornings start with a bang. "And now . . ." intones the relentlessly chirpy BBC World Service presenter, and I lurch across the bed, index finger extended. If I'm lucky, I'll hit the "Off" button first time. If I'm unlucky, I'll be forced to take in the first five seconds of my least favourite radio moment: the "Why I love Africa" spot on Network Africa, flagship morning programme for the continent.

I'm convinced that at precisely the same moment, in homes in sweaty Lagos and dusty Accra, on the chilly hillsides of Kigali and in bustling Kampala, other listeners are performing an identical rugby-tackle manoeuvre. Certainly, when I mention "Why I love Africa" to friends, eyes roll to heaven. "Like dragging a fingernail down a blackboard," pronounces one.

The format, for the uninitiated, runs as follows: Network Africa's listeners are invited to send in a composition of less than 300 words, explaining why they love their continent. The day's winner gets their entry read out and a Network baseball cap. The rest of us (I suppose this is how the thinking at Bush House goes) set off for work with our spirits that little bit lighter.

Now bear in mind that this is a continent about which National Geographic magazine, in a special Africa edition this month, lists the following useful facts: "Average life expectancy: 46 . . . number of refugees: 15 million . . . number of democratic governments: 19 out of 53 . . . number of firearms: 30 million". You will then appreciate that listeners bent on sporting that BBC baseball cap have their work cut out.

A few - all right, I admit it, I do occasionally listen - opt for sarcasm, praising their leaders and governments for their incompetence and sleaze. Most simply invent a parallel universe, having worked out that the more surreal the entry, the more hyperbolic the praise, the greater their chances of winning. "A continent of peace and tourism," raved one recent contributor, "breadbasket to the world . . . a steady place to live." Come again? I suspect others compose their entries after a long smoke, and I'm not talking tobacco. What else could explain the contributor who waxed nostalgic for the dripping fir trees and spongy moss of his home country? That's Norway, mate, not Nigeria.

All rather silly, but surely harmless enough? On the contrary, I've decided that "Why I love Africa" encapsulates everything that drives me crazy about attitudes to the continent. In those brief moments lies a world of condescension and latent prejudice.

It is simply impossible to imagine the Today programme running a "Why I love Britain" spot or French radio featuring a "Pourquoi j'adore la France" competition. Why? Because, however superficially cynical, a British or French audience is so profoundly convinced of its superiority, so certain that it inhabits a blessed land, that stating it aloud would be both tasteless and superfluous.

The strong can take the buffeting of scepticism. Only the lost and troubled need the over-hearty reassurance offered by the "Why I love Africa" competition. Far from bolstering its audience's fragile egos, Network Africa's well-meaning presenters - all, bizarrely, African nationals - reinforce their continent's nagging inferiority complex. "Africa is so utterly buggered that we must all be really, really nice about it," they inadvertently inform their depressed audience.

This is the exaggerated applause that rings out at a sports competition for the handicapped. Behind Network Africa's happy-clappy approach lie the same scaled-down expectations revealed by western monitors whenever they cheer flawed and violent African elections because they mark, at least, an improvement on the old ("Good enough for Africa"); the pitying condescension of the western pop star who raves about "brilliant" musicians from some remote Malian village before resuming his

international tour. It's the affirmative action practised by Blair's

Commission for Africa when it invites African leaders to make token appearances on a body dreamt up in Downing Street.

Confronting serious issues by urging people to feel better about themselves verges on the offensive. That's why I've never had too much sympathy for the oft-voiced complaint about "negative" media coverage of the continent. The western media do indeed do Africa a huge disservice, but that is not because of what they include, but what they omit, which is any hint that Africa contains an urban middle class, for example, or any suggestion that Africans trade, laugh, philosophise, joke or fall in love. But arguing that the media shouldn't dwell on the atrocities of Darfur or the blight of Aids because it creates a downbeat impression requires a special kind of Panglossian perversity.

In the days when African radio stations were in the hands of the state, Network Africa was required listening for listeners who couldn't stand the crude propaganda. But almost every capital now boasts a bevy of FM stations, fronted by lippy presenters who are too busy complaining to bother with feel-good campaigns. If Network Africa doesn't raise its game, its listeners will soon be leaving in droves for the stations where, rather than waxing rhapsodic over "Why I love Africa", they can get stuck in to the issue I'd like to hear addressed: "What needs fixing".

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