WHAT to make of the events of the last week, in which the mega-star Madonna was given a slap in the face by Malawi, the country she has chosen as her chief charity benefactor?

The saga is so muddled it's almost farcical, a "they said, she said" followed by a "she said she never said", which has left the singer smarting – and perhaps deservedly so.

In the past, Madonna has been criticised (by writer Mick Hume) for treating Africa like an "orphan in need of adoption". This latest episode began when she was stripped of her VIP status on the way out of Malawi and made to line up with all the other nobodies in the normal airport queue. Last Wednesday, the Malawian government delivered a statement which suggested Madonna's acts of kindness smacked of blackmail, accused her of bullying state officials, and said she seemed to want "Malawi to be forever chained to the obligation of gratitude".

In response, Madonna expressed disappointment at what she dismissed as lies. Then on Friday, we learned that the country's president was "incandescent with anger" about the statement which she did not herself issue. It wasn't quite a retraction or an apology, but it was certainly some sort of climb-down.

Nevertheless, the words were out. Whoever had composed them, a feeling of discontent had been expressed by some Malawians at a celebrity's activities in their country.

In some ways this was refreshing. It reflects what some of us feel when we see certain celebrities jetting around the globe, pitching up at poverty-stricken villages and orphanages to crowds of smiling, waving children. It suggests that we might not be so very wrong when we detect a whiff of the colonial there. But also, it was a message that every celebrity, politician, gap-year volunteer, would-be African baby adopter, or general do-gooder should attend to: that, though it's good to give, we must beware of being patronising. We must not get caught up in the idea of "saving" Africans.

Madonna is far from the only star to have gone to Africa to donate some of her millions, or to have adopted an African child. The American magazine website Mother Jones shows a map of how celebrities have carved up the continent, each taking their own patch to help. Madonna's publicist, we learn there, once said: "She's focusing on Malawi. South Africa is Oprah's territory."

Oprah, of course, is something of a charity queen. The opening of her girls' academy in South Africa was attended by Quincy Jones, Tina Turner, India Arie, Chris Rock, Mary J Blige and Mariah Carey. Students got uniforms designed by Oprah and pillowcases embroidered with the letter "O".

More recently, Angelina Jolie has made the world her cause and, in doing so, she's managed to rub a few people up the wrong way. When she decided to have her baby in Namibia, because it was "the cradle of humankind", a massive security operation followed, a no-fly area was created, and the passage of non-Namibian journalists into the country was restricted. Officially, Namibia was enjoying her visit. But one local human-rights organisation accused her security team of "heavy-handed and brutal" tactics.

Writing in the race and culture magazine Colorlines, Adam Elkus argues this kind of celebrity behaviour "warps the power dynamics of the countries they visit". All too often, these celebrities appear to be as oblivious to the African people's own thoughts and feelings as the missionaries of yesteryear. Madonna may well believe she has listened to the people and is in tune with the poor, and that her charity, Raising Malawi, has been the victim of a corrupt establishment which doesn't do things her way.

But that is not what comes across. This is not the only time it has appeared that Madonna has thought she can have things just as she likes in Malawi. Let's not forget that she managed to bypass the stringent adoption laws that force foreigners to stay 18 months in the country to be assessed, by lobbying the Malawian court.

We in Scotland have our own special relationship with Malawi. The Scottish Government currently funds numerous projects: some in sustainable farming; as well as the Mary's Meals programme, which delivers food into primary schools.

And I do believe there are people working in Africa who are not out to change the people, but to work with them. John Riches, whom I met recently, operates a fair-trade organisation, Just Trading, which aims to help farmers get better seed and obtain a better price for their rice. Not being a celebrity, however, he does it quietly and without fanfare.

Of course, there will be those who would defend Madonna and her fellow celebs, pointing out that they are well-meaning and that giving away their time and millions is far more than many of us do. But there is a dark side to this star-studded aid. It does not really come to these countries entirely for free.

Truly helping Africa is not just about Live Aid-style glamour and feel-goodery: it's also about politics. It is about the points the current "If" campaign to end hunger is trying to make in the run-up to the G8. It is about challenging governments to tackle land-grabs and tax havens. Before we rush to be Africa's rescuers, we should tackle these.