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1 How Free is FREE? Reflections on Freedom of Creative Expression in Africa IN THIS COMPILATION Albie Sachs, Boris Boubacar Diop, Chenjerai Hove, Lauren Beukes, Michelle Rakotoson, Saad Elkersh, NOT Sami Tchak, Yewande Omotoso FOR and more. SALE How Free Is FREE? Reflections on Freedom of Creative Expression in Africa All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author. © Arterial Network, 2016 ISBN: 978-0-9922252-1-6 Published by Arterial Network 4th Floor, Harrington House 37 Barrack Street Cape Town 8001 www.arterialnetwork.org Cover designer: Wim Rheeder Cover Image: Mohamed Abusabib Typesetting & eBook Design: Book Lingo Set in 11 point on 14 point Minion Pro Contents Freedom of Expression - How Hip Hop changed the Course of history in my Country By Aisha Dème Free Spirits and Ravaged Souls By Albie Sachs Is Art a Weapon of War? By Ayoko Mensah Art, Freedom of Expression and then the Power Goes Off By Azad Essa A Day in Paris By Boubacar Boris Diop Beautiful Words are Subversive By Chenjerai Hove Go and See, Go and Listen By Edgar Sekloka An Inconvenient Cow By Elana Bregin “If You Pay It Will Show” – The Role and Relevance of the Arts in Zambia By Ellen Banda-Aaku Don’t blame it on Voltaire! By Gael Faye Artistic freedom and Cultural Creation in Burkina Faso By Hamadou Mande A Sense of History: Media, Academic and Artistic freedom two Decades into Democracy By Jane Duncan Freedom of Artistic and Creative Expression in Zimbabwe: A Survey of the Legal and Policy Frameworks By Jesmael Mataga Mountain By Koleka Putuma Riding with the Dream Patrol By Lauren Beukes Culture or Identity, the Fundamentals of the Question By Michèle Rakotoson Art and Artists in Sudan: A History of Harassment By Dr. Mohamed Abusabib Freedom of Creative and Artistic Expression in the Performing Arts: A Critical Reflection By Prof. Patrick J Ebewo Phase 2.0: How Digital and Social Tools Empower Storytellers Today and Enable Modern Day African Conversations By Phiona Okumu This Is Not Another Appeal for the Arts By Raimi Gbadamosi Revolting or Writing? – The Impact of Turbulent Times on Writers By Saad Elkersh Graveyard of Dreams By Sade Adeniran The Children of Norbert Zongo By Sami Tchak Free To Be Me By Sylvia Vollenhoven Cupboards in the Dark By Yewande Omotoso 6 Aisha Dème (Senegal) Miracle du Hip Hop au Sénégal isha Deme is a Senegalese cultural activist. She has a degree Ain Computer Science from the Ecole Polytechnique de Dakar. Passionate about culture, in 2009, she decided to create a web platform dedicated exclusively to the promotion of art and culture in Senegal: www.agendakar.com Today she is a consultant and is involved in several local cultural projects. Aisha is also the Vice President of Music In Africa. 7 Photo Credit: Antoine Tempe Aisha Dème (Senegal) Freedom of Expression – How Hip Hop changed the Course of History in my Country isha Dème is a Senegalese cultural activist. She has a degree Ain Computer Science from the Ecole Polytechnique de Dakar. Passionate about culture, in 2009, she decided to create a web platform dedicated exclusively to the promotion of art and culture in Senegal: www.agendakar.com Today she is a consultant and is involved in several local cultural projects. Aisha is also the Vice President of Music In Africa. 8 Freedom of Expression – How Hip Hop changed the Course of History in my Country Aisha Dème IT’S GREAT WHEN artists write History. It’s great when these artists are young, when they carry with them not only their dreams, but also the voice of a nation. These young people are the products of urban culture, where it teems, palpitates, vibrates, suffers, rumbles and lives – the place where you speak with your guts. In Senegal, one can therefore confidently say that urban culture won ITS struggle for freedom of expression. From the arrival of hip hop to political change… I grew up with hip hop, like most of the young people of my generation. We are the children of the true hip hop that arrived in Senegal in the mid-eighties. Hip hop having swept across the United States and France, it was now our turn. I’m a child of that hip hop that found me – a young, gullible teenager comfortably ensconced in my bubble, far removed from the realities of my country. They arrived with their wide baggies and their sneakers, and possessed of that incredible verve only granted to rappers. And they plucked me from my bubble by the power of their words and the strength of their conviction. I suddenly discovered the ills afflicting my country and our youth, urban and rural alike … disillusioned. To me, and to thousands of other young people from different backgrounds, they revealed a Senegal we hardly recognised. That was 25 years ago, and our journey of discovery is not yet over. So far, the journey has been beautiful, insightful and tumultuous. But above all, it has left an indelible mark on our country’s history. Rap had arrived in Senegal, the land of “Maslaa”, where most 9 things are better left unsaid. It was towards the end of the 80s that hip hop dance had been making waves for several years. This was the social context in which rap music became the mouthpiece of a disenchanted youth who had at last discovered in this art form a means of expression that suited them. It became a message-bearer. It observed, analysed, and commented the political and socio-cultural problems of the country. Inevitably, it became militant and accusatory, gradually influencing the growing collective awareness. It’s the year 2000. The Socialist Party has been in power since the country became independent in 1960. After 40 years of this regime, the country is running out of steam. The gulf between the people and their government keeps growing wider, and hopes of a better life for the Senegalese are gradually crumbling. We were about 20 years old then, and had never known any other president than President Abdou Diouf, who had taken over from Senghor. In fact, he also seemed to be locked up in his tower, unaware of the problems faced by the country’s youth – the same youth he had referred to as “unsavoury”, demonstrating a monumental lack of judgement. A lack of jobs, persistent school stay- aways, an economy kept afloat through World Bank reforms and the misappropriation of public funds had finally landed the country in a deep social crisis. The Senegalese were hungry for change. We, the youth, were angry. The rappers, who’d been lauded and worshipped from the very beginning, became more and more virulent. The indignant cry of Xuman and the PEE FROISS, “In whose name?” (“Luy Ndeyu Lii?”) still resounds in our ears, like that of their predecessors, the Positive Black Soul, precursors of Senegalese rap: “This is not right!” (“Du Deug Du Yoon”). Yatfu warned: “The country is burning!” (“Deuk bi tak na!”). The FROISS confirmed:” There will be hell to pay!” (“Ca va péter!”). As to the compilation Dkill Rap, it exploded like a bomb over the heads of the politicians in 1999, crystallising all the disillusions and resentment of the Senegalese youth. BMG 44, Rapadio, Sen Kumpe were not to be outdone. We were passionate and more committed than ever to the cause of the rappers. Concerts proliferated. Even basketball tournaments had turned into not-to-be-missed hip hop gatherings, with “Rapattak” concerts being organised after the matches. Rap was associated with everything that had to do with the youth. The rappers had realised how powerful they were and continued raising awareness 10 through militant lyrics that became hugely popular among Senegal’s youth. They vehemently denounced the abuses and failings of the State and exhorted the youth to register en masse and to vote. The press entered the fray and increased the pressure. The media became a channel for the messages of these youngsters representing the mindset of the people. And so we joined forces, relaying the message of our young idols. It had come full circle. The majority of Senegal’s youth, influenced by these leaders of the streets, voted massively and felt that they had taken their destiny into their own hands, at this historical moment which led to the first political changeover in the young history of the country. It was a first great victory for the hip hop movement, in spite of all the obstacles, all the dangers and all the risks that had been placed along its way, as some of them can testify. Didier Awadi, founding member of the Positive Black Soul, forerunner of Senegalese rap: “We encountered problems of tax adjustment, threats, intimidation. They sometimes descended on our homes to carry out searches, alleging that we hadn’t paid taxes for years. Sometimes they sent people to make trouble at the PBS concerts. The RTS (editor’s note: national Senegalese television, the only existing television channel at the time) demonstrated its zeal by refusing to broadcast some of our songs. But President Diouf himself, I have to admit, allowed us to express ourselves. He wasn’t into censorship. He even asked to meet Positive Black Soul in 1997 and told us, “You have things to say, speak your mind. (Didier Awadi, October 2014) Xuman (the Gunman), one of the big names in Senegalese rap, and founding member of the band, Froiss: “I didn’t realise how dangerous it was.

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