Moving Africa

Etalon d’or goes to Senegalese filmmaker

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Tue, 05 Mar 2013 08:40:23 +0100

Fespaco
by Anita Afonu

On our final day we were taken on an excursion to a place called Opera Village which was created by German theatre director Christoph Schlingensief. The Opera Village essentially is a place for artists to showcase their work which also has a school and hospital to cater for the surrounding villages. On our way I saw vast lands of deserts and dryness. The ground obviously had not seen water in such a long time and the air was dusty. I wondered how the trees managed to stand in defiance of the weather. At that point I began to appreciate my county for not being landlocked. The dryness seemed to eat into my soul and all I wanted was to just see water.

What stunned me about the Opera Village was the architecture. The buildings were made from brown bricks butt the roofing was done in such as way that the air that blew in the room had a cooling effect. We were showed around the classrooms, kitchen and the hospital which was still under construction. There were also a large number of stones, some of which had been carved into statues of rabbits. It reminded me of a place in Ghana called ‘Bongo’. Bongo is full of rocks and there is even a rock shrine there where people go to pray.

After about an hour and a half of touring we got back into the town where we had lunch. I ordered rice and fish and I was glad to have had my favourite fish (tilapia). The seasoning tasted different and the difference for me was in the quantity of pepper. In Ghana, great seasoning means a lot of pepper and spices. After lunch I went to the FESPACO market to buy a few souvenirs. The closing ceremony was just about to start and the weather was beginning to dehydrate me. The rest of us all felt the same and so we decided to watch it live on TV.

Blaise Campaore, the President of Burkina Faso gave the highest award; Etalon d’or to Alain Gomis from Senegal for his film Tey/Aujourd’hui. I was happy the highest award was taken by an African and it really inspired me to push my career as a filmmaker.

Later in the evening, all of us from Moving Africa gathered at the Institut Francais where there was a mini jazz concert; the ambiance was great. Personally it felt good to be amongst my colleagues for the last time. I was going to miss everyone most especially Matrid, Richard and Jorge de Palma. I never really realized how close I had gotten to all these people…sharing my interests and love of film and cinema with them. I was going to miss the funny mannerisms of Jorge de Palma, the Angolan guy who was always trying to catch up with the world and really didn’t care what anyone thought about his quirks, Richard, the calm, humble and intelligent young man from Rwanda and Matrid, the crazy fun loving lady from Kenya.

Strawberries from Burkina Faso and Ghana Man Time (GMT)

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 08:44:24 +0100

Fespaco
by Anita Afonu

I was upbeat on the second day and had breakfast at the hotel after which I headed to Cine Burkina to watch some films. I watched five short films, some of which were very good and some got me asking why they were selected for the festival. Cine Burkina is probably the main cinema hall in Ouagadougou and it had a recreation place where people can just spend time and wait for the screening of a film. After the screenings I got outside only to realize there was a mini party happening amongst the filmmakers. I tried to blend in but just couldn’t, probably because everyone had someone to talk to and I seemed not to. Not feeling up to the socialization I decided to walk to the hotel and rest and watch the next film in the evening.

As I walked around I made a few observations. Unlike Accra, Ouagadougou seemed to be sparsely populated. Most of the people transported themselves via scooters and bicycles. There were the vendors in the streets who were bent on giving me a hard time so I could buy their wares, but of course I am an Accra girl who has mastered the art of bargaining so I showed them the stuff I was made of. I was also stunned by the fact that strawberries were grown in Burkina Faso considering how hot the weather is. There are absolutely no strawberries in Ghana and so at that moment, I decided I was going to take some back to Ghana. At about 15:00hrs the rest of the Moving Africa Participants arrived and I met them for the first time. I met Didas from Uganda, a quiet and seemingly deep thinking young man, Richard from Rwanda who had an air of friendliness about him, Moses from Uganda, a very ‘serious’ journalist but also very intelligent and interesting man to chat with, Jorge de Palma from Angola who seemed to be trying to catch up with the whole world, Matrid a young fun loving lady from Kenya and Simon a very laid back and cool young man from Mozambique.

Later that evening I watched How to Steal two million by Charles Vundla Cine Neerwaya. Although I enjoyed the film, I felt that too much attention was paid to the main plot such that the subplot was not well treated. Much later my film Skin Canvas was screened at the Goethe Institut where the feedback was great. It was a totally new experience watching it again as I haven’t watched it in the past two years. I also watched some other short films from the other Moving Africa Participants and it was great to see other people’s work.

I have to say that the currency conversion in my head was very challenging because we were spending in the thousands unlike in Ghana where a thousand is a lot of money. We drove by a place called Kwame Nkrumah Avenue and at that point I couldn’t help but feel proud that someone from my home country had made so much impact that an avenue had been named after him. Another thing that got me stunned was the adherence to time. Film Screenings were on time and the people worked with time. I was stunned because Ghana is full of indiscipline and a lack of adherence to time is probably what we are most notorious for. We have gone as far as to even rename GMT as Ghana Man Time. When a Ghanaian tells you to see him at 2pm, he most probably means 4pm. So just imagine a wedding that is supposed to start at 12:00.

The Moving Africa participants and I decided to sit by the pool and get to know each other and it was a very interesting experience getting to know them.

Brakina in Ouagadougou

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 08:36:03 +0100

Fespaco
by Anita Afonu

I arrived in Ouagadougou on February 25 at about 15:00. I was met by the director of the Goethe Institute in Burkina Faso. Since I was the only one that had arrived, I spent the rest of my day with her and she drove me around showing me the city of Ouagadougou.
I watched a film that evening by Gudrun Widlok titled Adopted at the Hall of residence of the University of Ouagadougou and then continued to Cine Burkina where I met other filmmakers from Germany, Sweden, France, USA, Senegal, Mali, Tunisia and Algeria. Being amongst a large number of Germans, it was a beer night. There was plenty of beer and kebab and I helped myself to a bottle of Brakina (Burkina Faso’s locally brewed beer) and I must say it wasn’t bad at all.

I was intrigued by how the people of Burkina Faso had so much appetite for film and cinema and I wished it was the same with my country. All over Ouagadougou there were film posters and it was just one film screening after the other.
I found the weather a bit harsh as it was so hot. The weather was fluctuating between 39-45 degrees and it was just painfully hot. The breeze was equally dry and hot which didn’t help much either. In Ghana, my home country, it is a bit better as we have the sea breeze and our temperatures were between 22-30 degrees and also if one felt hot, one could just walk to the beach and enjoy the cool breeze under the coconut trees and maybe have a cool coconut juice!

For dinner, I had fried plantain and fried potatoes which were a little bit different from how it is made in Ghana. In Ghana, the potatoes are cut into large sizes and also they are sweet potatoes. Plantains are salted unlike in Burkina where no or very little salt is added.
I could speak some French to get by so it wasn’t so difficult blending in. My Hotel room was quite big as I had a living room and a bedroom. I tried to watch some of the programmes on the TV and comprehend but they were speaking the French a bit too fast for me and it was difficult catching up so I retired to bed looking forward to the next day.

Countdown to Fespaco

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 16:48:02 +0100

Fespaco
by Anita Afonu

It´s another four days until I leave for Ouagadougou and I am quite excited. Attending FESPACO to me is almost like a pilgrimage for every African Filmmaker.

I have never been to FESPACO before because during the period that I could have gone, I was tied up with school work and so couldn’t make the time for it. Now, the opportunity has come for me and I am really looking forward to it. The Moving Africa platform essentially is a platform for artists such as myself to meet other artists from the continent, meet and share ideas.

I am looking forward to meeting other young filmmakers, watching some good films and most of all experiencing a different culture. I think that experiences of that nature broaden one’s general understanding and perception of life and also inspire new ideas for new films.

One Day I will Write About this Place

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 09:33:50 +0100

Kwani Litfest
by Dzekashu MacViban

I haven’t totally recovered from Nairobi—in a way, I don’t think I ever will. How does one recover from such a nice town and such awesome people? How can I ever forget the friendly and funny Moving Africa participants? When will I see them again? They are still as lively in my memory as they were in Nairobi— Kojo Laing’s famous talks about mutation and later religion; Feling Capela, constantly behind his camera; Ntone Edjabe, always philosophizing; Chuma passionately talking about his goal of reading his work in as many cities as possible, Sylvia and her interesting alternative fiction and humor; Kivu, with his love for Tusker and good movies; Joseph, who is highly concerned with the growth of south Sudan and wants art to shape the nation.

Kwani is undoubtedly the most influential journal to have emerged from sub-Saharan Africa, and if anybody doubts this fact, the biennial Kwani literary festival is enough to shut them up. The 2012 Kwani literary festival was full of people from all walks of life and the venues were usually full (at the premier screening of Nairobi Half Life, the Goethe-Institut in Nairobi was full and had our (the Moving Africa participants and I) space not been reserved, we’d have had to stand up — this is how we measure a culture-conscious country.

The literary festival was full of writers, journalists, photographers, students, tourists, bloggers, fashion designers, literary enthusiasts, and disc jockeys, just to name a few. Talking about DJ’s, I met so many talented DJ’s in Nairobi — DJ Zelalem, Raphael & Sharon (from the World’s Loudest Library) and Ntone Edjabe, whom I consider to be an iconoclastic icon, one of a kind.

The theme of the festival, Conversations with the Horn, is a laudable choice cognizant of the tribulations of the region and the growth of new nations, and it attests to the fact that Kwani is concerned with the evolution of the region and the role culture can play in bridging divides and borders (the Chimurenga Chronicle’s editorial bemoans the fact that everyone who can is building a wall [border]).

The social media does not seem to have any secrets for Kwani. Kwani did not fail to make sure that those who couldn’t make it to the festival could follow it on the internet. The whole festival was streamed on Kwani’s website and highlights were posted on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. But it was on Twitter that Kwani had a mammoth presence during the festival. The hash tag #kwanilitfest was all over Twitter, and it wasn’t only @kwanitrust that was tweeting, because their numerous followers were sharing their thoughts on Tweeter and it was as if there was a mini festival on Tweeter given people kept tweeting late into the night, long after the events of the day were over.

Networking was the order of the day during the festival and I didn’t miss an opportunity to promote Bakwa Magazine (a magazine of art culture and photography which I started about a year ago).
We had an amazing tour of the Goethe-Institut and the Kwani Trust venues. The folks at the Goethe-Institut and Kwani are fabulously friendly and kind— thank you. I had the most awesome time in Nairobi (no close encounters with Nairobbery) and there is so much about this city that I fell in love with. These days, my muse has been in Nairobi mode, and there is some fiction and poetry in the pipeline.

Nairobi On My Mind

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 16:37:27 +0100

Kwani Litfest
by Dzekashu MacViban

There comes a time in our lives when we wish we could turn back the hands of time, but then, we get confused because there are many lovely experiences littered over the years and we don’t know which one to choose. At this point of my life I feel like turning back the hands of time, but contrarily to my preamble, I know exactly what week I need to go back to. 8.12.2012. That is the date I’d choose if I could go back in time because it was a unique week— mark that unique is an understatement here, because words cannot do justice to the ineffable time I had in Nairobi. Kojo Laing says you cannot live in a place without that place having an impact on you, so in a way, Nairobi has left an imprint on me.

I must confess that my sojourn started in a somewhat murky manner. After a lot of bureaucracy which ended in “missing” documents and last minute authorization, I boarded an airplane to Nairobi. Before I boarded the plane, a guy at Kenyan airways said I looked more Kenyan than Cameroonian, and it reminded me of the fact that some time ago I was told that I looked like an Indian. When I reached Jomo Kenyatta Airport in the morning, I waited for two hours and I was told by immigration that they hadn’t received their copy of my authorization, and given that it was a weekend, they weren’t sure when it’d come, so the Goethe-Institut in Nairobi had the original copy delivered to the airport. Things were cleared up and I was given a visa. The guy behind me gave his passport and the lady at the immigration said “you have a Cameroonian passport, please stand aside.” I felt disturbed by her utterance. What was wrong with having a Cameroonian passport? and it got me thinking about the mental and physical boundaries that we create and estrange one another.

The first thing I notice in Nairobi is that taxis are not colored yellow as in Cameroon, and that the steering wheel is on the right. Simiyu, the taxi driver tells me to put on my seat belt and I am surprised. No taxi driver in Cameroon has ever told me to put on my seatbelt. He is so kind and friendly and tells me everything I want to know, and this hospitability is as well shown by most of the people I meet in Kenya. As we head to the Intercontinental Hotel, I realize that Mombasa Road looks like some streets in Douala. The only difference being that there are no potholes on Mombasa Road.

The security and orderliness in Nairobi is really commendable and it would be nice if Cameroon could emulate some of it. On several occasions during the festival, many people told me that they thought that Cameroon was a French speaking country and they were surprised by the fact that I spoke English, and it is a sad issue because it attests to the way Cameroon sells her image internationally. For example, while Gabon advertises her tourism industry in English on CNN, Cameroon advertises her tourism industry in French on Africa 24. Not that I have anything against Africa 24, but seriously…

Finally, I'd like to thank the Goethe-Institut in Cameroon and Kenya for giving me the opportunity to take part in this culturally enriching program.

Five days in Nairobi

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 14:58:26 +0100

Kwani Litfest
By Sylvia Schlettwein

I have five days in the city of Nairobi

• to enjoy as much as possible of the KWANI Litfest
• to get to know the six other authors in the Moving Africa group
• to engage in “conversations with the horn” (of Africa)
• to see what KWANI trust is all about
• to get a taste of the soul of Nairobi and maybe Kenya
• to forge literary and friendly bonds at every opportunity
• to dance, to eat, drink, be merry and look terribly intellectual at the same time

On my first “real day” in Nairobi the fear in face of this tall order becomes relative. We’re supposed to attend the opening mingling event of the KWANI Litfest at Kifaru Gardens in Lavington. After about thirty minutes of what seems like pretty aimless driving and turning back to me (the taxi driver’s sense of direction is worse than mine, which is infamously bad), fellow Mover of Africa Féling Capela from Mozambique produces a piece of paper from his pocket:
“I have a map!”
You see, I think, direction will come in due time.

When I find myself locked in the toilet, which is called “washroom” in Kenya, at Kifaru Gardens a bit later, I am totally zen about it. There are six million people in Nairobi. One of them will hear me and help me out, right? Somebody does and over the next days I do get to experience much more than I have mapped out in my tall order list.

• We attend panel discussions, lectures, film screenings, readings and performances.
• I discover the literature and authors of the horn of Africa.
• We swap, buy and plan books.
• I get to read some of my own stuff to an attentive audience.
• We get stuck in Nairobi traffic.
• We get lost and stuck in Eastleigh, so actually get to see from outside the taxi.
• I dance at an exclusively exclusive decadent party in Westlands.
• We get to be part of an unexpected but priceless group discussion on mutants and mutations with Kojo Laing.
• We mingle with the local literature, arts, music and culture scene.
• I touch a living legend, poet Hadraawi from Somalia.
• I enjoy the privilege of having a male harem, my fellow Moving Africans Chuma, Charles, Féling, Kivu, Ntone, Kojo. When and where shall weseven meet again?
• I experience too many special moments with too many special people to mention here.
• I taste Kuku and Mbuzi Choma. (I’ll have to come back for the famous Nyama Choma)
• I drink Tusker and decide Namibian beer is still the best.

Five days were not enough because at the end of each of these five days I was up to another five days like that. The experience was exponentially enriching and so the number of stories I have to tell back home in Namibia has increased exponentially too.

Revisiting the Temple

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 14:41:26 +0100

Kwani Litfest
By Josheph Eluzai

I would love to revisit the temple of Kwani Litfest, courtesy of Goethe-Institut. Iam glad the Institute had looked no further.

It is now almost a month past the days of my stay in Nairobi for the Kwani Litfest. I will recount my experience at the festival and try to cut it down to the size you need. It has exceeded my expectations.
Iam writing this piece to save the left-over bits for another day. I hope I won’t forget to put back in the drain plug! I love you Goethe-Institut. You are the first ever to grant me such space at a key literary event. For that, and for your warmth and thoughtfulness, Iam ever indebted.

Now, allow me to climb out of this. I was one of 8 fellow writers booted from their homes to attend a litfest organized by Kwani Trust in Nairobi. I think we laid to waste a sizeable chunk of Goethe-Institut’s budget. What a treasure of a cultural centre it is! I think it is only fair to add that we are also in debt upto our eyballs to Kwani Trust for its sustained attention to us and for organizing the serial event. It was a basket of literary goodies at which we threw our small change. My hat is off to whoever was responsible for the feat at Kwani Litfest. It was a team thing, though.

I met a mob of seething book-worms at the festival. I played up the close ties alot. There was Chuma Nwokolo from Nigeria with his epic humor. Feling Capela from Mozambique was busy climbing over the backs of others with his inevitable camera. There was, too, Dzekashu Mac Viban of Cameroon in the final stretch of his Masters on Commonwealth Literature. Kivu Ruhorahoza from Rwanda was part of the brotherhood. And then there was sylvia Schlettwein whose name does not go away quickly. Because she was the only female redeeming grace in our midst. Ntone Edjabe from cameroon was a thrill. The renowned Ghanian writer Kojo Laing was inspiring. At a sitting, he fought for every inch of ground for that which was whimsical and metaphysical in African Writing. I would love to rerun the attack!

There was a way back out. During the lectures and talk sessions, I battled at the plate for an understanding of the Horn and its legacies that are shaping the narrative of this vital region of Africa. It is not a limping weak wreckage as portrayed by the media. The Horn is not an hungry octopus. Of course, we are used to it calling in sick all the time.

But as a big uppercut to East Africa, it has some nice perks, if you like. It is just one of those perils of being past political menopause. I see a bright literary future for the Horn and the whole of East Africa. Time will come when we will not hold the shirt tails of West Africa and elsewhere in the continent. Our writers are a force on the side of change and hope. We will get rid of wars and atrocities. Fleas do not own the dog they live on. I can see somebody flashing the V-sign for victory!

That is cool. It is even so when you peer out over the streets of Nairobi and catch a glimpse of the vigil of song and dance. It lines our region up closely with the spirit of being. That, I think, is our narrative in the Horn and around.

Don’t tell me this is a big fat lie. Don’t even bother to let me know if that may well be just diaper rash. We are grown-ups. I want to get that stir out of you, people. I can still remember Somali youth in Eastleigh giggling at Hadarawi’s poignant poetry. One thing you should know about Eastleigh is that it does not have the feel of a tidy surburb, to say the least. There was alot of blah about Helon Habila and Binyavanga Wainaina. The aroma of El Poet’s poems was hovering around the festival.

I took a bite of Meaza Barok’s play performance. She is a young playwright from Ethiopia. I was struck by her humbleness. You don’t get to find a person like this on almost every street, alley or lane in our world today. God, I love this continent!

Fortunately, nobody was hospitalized for a bad cough. Nor did anyone left by the back door. One thing about my trip to Nairobi was staying up late. We choked on it. Nairobi nights never really run low on people. Fun is always in the air. We had plenty of that. I had my cushion of sobriety to glide over, though. I was a bit battered by fellow writers participating in the Moving Africa Program. I told them abstaining from hard drinks was a choice, not grasping at the straws of a cult or religion. I had no energy to fight over the carcass of looking ‘normal’.

I had plenty to talk about and hear from many others over bowls of soup across Nairobi. We peeled back the layers of the emerging narrative of what may be dubbed African writing. Will it be another account midwifed in violence, poverty, fatalism and self-pity and apologetics? Or will it be rolled up the ladder of keeping Africa green, robust and diverse? Which of these accounts will writers wait out, if any? What I know now is this, somebody will one day capture Jerusalem for the pope.

I miss our conversations! I am confident that the discourse started under the Moving Africa Program will continue to cause head-scratching in the halls of contemporary African writing. The skeptics may collapse over this. Misadventure hardly squares with our nature. Proponents of this push have just got the next best thing: staking out their territory in today’s world literature. But they will have to climb over the backs of those critics in hysterics. The pot is on the verge of boiling over. It is my fervent hope that this will not go right down the toilet. At least, until such time I revisit the temple in Nairobi, Kwani.

Mes impressions du Visa2Dance festival

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 14:05:53 +0100

Visa2Dance
Ecrit par Saroy Rakotosolofo

Le Moving Africa Programme joue un rôle important dans des activités de danse; c’est très enrichissant comme programme, fait en sorte que l'échange et les collaborations avec d'autres participants y prennent place.

Par contre, pour le festival VISA2DANCE, riche en matière d'échanges, d'atelier de danse, de film et tant d'autres, bref un festival en couleur, promouvoir la diversité de la danse en général contemporaine. Comme quoi VISA2DANCE privilège les jeunes danseurs. Pour moi, VISA2DANCE est un festival international d'où des différents spectacles présentent des grands moments émotionnels et réfléchis tels que la création de Norvège: « I wish her well », les jeunes Tanzaniens et la chorégraphe Espagnole en travail de collaboration préserve et illumine des recherches chorégraphiques. Avec une création osé et bien présentée par la Compagnie venant de l'Israel; « Force majeure ».

Dar Es Salaam est une capitale où l'on peut découvrir plusieurs talents en danse, en sculputre et l'art en général, beaucoup de jeunes ont des potentiels, des motivations pour évoluer, améliorer. Donc, je constate que les organisateurs donneront des bénéfices pour les talents Tanzaniens d'un travail en amont être staff durant le festival, une présentation d'exposition de la richesse culturelle du pays en accueil et durant le festival.

Inversement pour les artistes du pays de creuser dans la culture, faire des recherches, de se ressourcer et surtout de s'entraider aux organisateurs pour le prochain festival, voudrait dire, rechercher dans des archives au fur et à mesure des temps -début de la danse jusqu'en ce jour – pourquoi pas?

Finalement, le fruit de ce festival de danse comme tel est toujours enrichissante et primordial à tout le monde (participants, organisateurs, etc.).

Enfin Ouaga ! Enfin l’Afrique?

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:53:18 +0100

Récréatrales
Ecrit par Fabien Honoré Kabeya Mukamba

Le rêve va-t- il enfin se réaliser ? Il y a douze ans, que je mettais sur pieds une structure théâtrale le CATHEL, Centre d’Animation Théâtrale de Lubumbashi, qui avait pour objectif de désenclaver l’art dramatique de ma province natale du Katanga, et de l’ouvrir à l’Afrique et au monde. Avec le partenariat de la Coopération française en R.D.Congo, nous lancions, avec Gilles Roussel, la première édition du Festival à vocation internationale « LE TEMPS DU THEATRE » en 2001, à Lubumbashi, capitale cuprifère de la R.D.Congo.

Pour favoriser l’échange aux moyens des rencontres nous invitions pour ce faire le dramaturge Kossi Efoui, pour nous parler de la « magie des mots », Alain Ricard pour témoigner de l’écriture des écrivains Wole Soyinka et Amadou Kourouma et la directrice de la Compagnie Collectif 12, Catherine Boskowitz pour un atelier de direction d’acteurs. En face de nos invités, nous avions aligné des compagnies de théâtre en provenance de différentes villes de la Province : Lubumbashi, Kipushi, Likasi et Kolwezi.

Dès lors, l’envol était définitif, bon an mal an, édition après édition, « Le Temps du Théâtre » cheminait vers l’atteinte de son objectif, à savoir le désenclavement du théâtre katangais. Un réseau se tissait peu à peu, mais résolument tourné vers l’Europe ! (Belgique, France, Italie). Et l’Afrique ? Elle demeurait géographiquement proche mais concrètement lointaine ! Certes, mon festival a pu inviter quelques artistes africains tels que Tony Meffe du Cameroun, Edoxie GNOULA de la Compagnie Kala Kala et Désirs Collectifs du Bourkina Faso, cependant Kossi Effoui et Gustave Akakpo ont été invités à partir de la France. Moi-même, c’est vivant en France que j’ai eu l’occasion de découvrir le Mali (Bamako et Tombouctou) à travers le programme – Université 5 Continents en 2005.

Aussi mon rêve a toujours été celui d’entrer en contact direct avec les festivals et les structures artistiques d’Afrique, ce rêve est sur le point de se réaliser grâce à Goethe Institute, à travers son programme MOVING AFRICA qui m’invite à la septième édition des RECREATALES. C’est donc avec beaucoup d’attentes et d’espoir que je prépare mes valises pour Ouagadougou ! Confiant le démarrage de la douzième édition de mon festival entre les mains expertes de mon co-directeur artistique, Dominique MAILLOCHON.

Ainsi Wait and see…

Les Récréatrales ou Quand le théâtre redevient citoyen!

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:50:25 +0100

Récréatrales
Ecrit par Fabien Honoré Kabeya Mukamba

C’est avec beaucoup de curiosité que j’ai atterri à Ouagadougou ! Dès son aéroport international j’ai été impressionné par son accueil et son sens élevé de l’hospitalité. De Lubumbashi, ma ville natale, je suis parti sans visa car l’on m’avait rassuré que je l’aurai sans problème en arrivant à Ouaga ! C’est vrai, on ne m’avait pas menti ! Avec sourire aux lèvres, l’agent d’immigration m’accueille et m’indique les frais à payer et m’autorise ainsi à fouler le sol de Ouagadougou, la capitale africaine du théâtre et du cinéma!

Dans le hall de la salle d’arrivée, je vois de loin une pancarte avec le logo de « Goethe Institut » tenue par une charmante dame, je devine rapidement qu’il s’agit de madame Thekla Worch-Ambara, directrice du Goethe-Institut / Bureau de liaison de Ouagadougou qui s’est déplacée personnellement pour venir m’accueillir à l’aéroport ! Je suis très ému par cette marque de sollicitude et de l’efficacité du programme « Moving Africa » !

Ces deux moments de l’accueil n’ont fait que confirmer l’image que je me faisais du Burkina Faso, de ses habitants et de son amour pour la culture.

Après l’installation à Ran Hôtel et un repos de quelques heures, viendra le moment de nous rendre au village du Festival. Une navette entre l’hôtel était prévue et assuré par un bus du Ministère de Tourisme et Culture et Arts. En un quart d’heure, me voici en plein cœur du village de Récréatrales : une rue non asphaltée, dans la pénombre, mais longée par des installations scénographiques géantes, par des échoppes des habitants offrant aux festivaliers des brochettes de viandes épicées, des poissons braisés, des arachides et des boissons rafraîchissantes à même de soulager contre la chaleur vespérale du mois de novembre.

Une fois de plus, l’accueil des jeunes du quartier, les volontaires ; ne passera pas inaperçu à mes yeux curieux. C’est à partir de cet instant que j’ai compris que le théâtre était redevenu citoyen aux Récréatrales comme à sa naissance en Grèce antique. Une fête du village où chaque habitant devait apporter sa part ; j’ai beaucoup aimé ce concept des Récréatrales. Les spectacles se déroulent dans les cours des parcelles des riverains, comme dans ma tendre enfance ! Quand mes amis et moi imitions certains soirs le théâtre radiodiffusé de Mufwankolo ‘figure majeure du théâtre au Katanga RDCongo), dans les parcelles des voisins. A la seule différence qu’ici c’est du sérieux, du professionnalisme dans la simplicité.

Tous les jours du festival, ça sera le même rituel, l’hôtel, la navette et le village du festival, mais chaque soir c’était une nouvelle expérience que je découvrais dans les spectacles, dans les rencontres professionnelles et dans la découverte de la ville et tout ceci à été rendu possible grâce à Moving Africa !

I LIVED, BREATHED ART IN OUAGADOUGOU

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:47:05 +0100

Récréatrales
By Rehema Nanfuka

I had never been to Burkina Faso before the moving Africa programme and I hadn’t heard much about it in the news. So when I was contacted by the Goethe Institut in Uganda to attend the 7th edition of the Récréâtrales in Ouagadougou the first thing I did was Google search Burkina Faso and there was a BBC country profile “ Burkina Faso - A poor country even by West African standards, landlocked Burkina Faso has suffered from recurring droughts and, until the 1980s, military coups…”

Undauntedly I searched my country’s profile and it wasn’t very flattering either- these were cold facts that did not capture the spirit and the beauty of the Ugandan people. So I made a vow to make my own conclusions about Burkina Faso. Once I was there, I came to a conclusion that Burkina Faso might be a poor country, but it is very rich in art and the Burkinabe have big hearts.

I got my visa on the very day I was travelling, boarded Ethiopian airways and it was like sitting in a bus from Uganda to Ouagadougou, but that is fine, I was high on expectations. When we landed I knew I should have done a weather s earch because I wasn’t ready for the heat in Ouagadougou. I was told by the locals that it gets as hot as 50°C!... So off the plane, there was a moment of panic when we couldn’t see our Goethe contact…and then she came for us. Thekla was very welcoming. It was a 15 minute drive from the airport to our hotel, I noticed that the cars we consider luxurious in Uganda like Mercedes Benzes are used as taxis in Ouaga yes they are in a dilapidated condition, but still… and there are more motorcycles on the roads than cars… there was a moment of hope, in Uganda our “bodabodas”- motorcycle taxis can get you anywhere, well in Ouaga, the motorcycles are private property and the conservative Ugandans would be shocked that the women ride them too!

We checked into the hotel and anxiously went to the festival village, there was little activity at 3pm as it was hot and the performers were getting ready night performances, but the village was beautifully transformed with contemporary art pieces in the street, people’s backyards were transformed into theater stages. At night the street is lit up, the locals sell spicy foods on the street and with different performances all around you, there is a lot to choose from.

I watched performances that left me breathless..., Shakespeare with a contemporary touch, Greek mythologies other contemporary pieces, two men and one woman shows, the actors were so amazing, they had so much passion! I lived, breathed art in Ouagadougou it spoiled me for ordinary life and inspired me. Thanks to the Goethe institute I met beautiful people from Ghana, Cameroon, Congo, Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, France and the Burkinabe are so friendly! I got contacts for future co-productions, potential funders and learnt a lot about the world of theatre.

My first theatre festival

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:45:54 +0100

Récréatrales
By Otako Williams

Moving Africa gave me an opportunity to network in the theatre industry all over Africa and shared my theatre experience with different theatre professionals all over the world.

I had wanted to attend theatre festivals before but I could not because most of the theatre festivals were for paying but moving Africa enabled me to attend my first time theatre festival, this made me to start thinking bigger in theatrical work as an actor and assistant creative director.

I was planning to start a street theatre festival in Uganda and this was the right time for me that I shared experiences and ideas from different theatre festival directors on how to run a festival.

A Mixed Blessing in Nairobi

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:39:43 +0100

Kwani Litfest
By Josheph Eluzai

I cannot compete with the religion of money. But I know of a better form of god, writing. I love it to bits. It is a very welcome thing to be able to turn up at Kwani? 2012 Litfest, courtesy of Goethe-Institut Johannesburg. This powerhouse of cultural exchange programs has made me look unsettlingly happy. Over the last few weeks, I have been snooping through emails because of this truly beautiful idea floated by Goethe-Institut or whatever floats their boat.

I can’t wait to be at Kwani? Litfest! Yes, it is a pretty decent guess that Iam like a teenage girl at her first boy band concert. I like to stand by quotes. I know I cannot make it without this stitch of help. Infact, i don’t recall ever hearing of South Sudanese taking a smoke break behind the scenes of a grand litfest in their continent Africa and elsewhere around the globe.

The paradox is, we have been around for a long time! I could not for the life of me understand why the then Sudan dedicated years to doing bad things while Africa was really crawling with writers from Nigeria, Kenya, Uganda, South Africa, Ghana, Egypt and others.
We were far behind in the run. As a South Sudanese, I deeply feel that we have missed a whole episode of catching the pack of letters in the clubhouse between rounds. I can only wish that we could catch the re-run!

That is why Kwani? 2012 is a mixed blessing. I hope somebody will spare a thought for us as we are returning from the literary wilderness. We will carry our cross of infirmity with your pat on the back. This is easier said when you are trying to make a clever joke.
For those of you who remained outside the fray, remember that peace is priceless. Don’t take it for granted. Do not be tempted to gain infamy for civil wars. It will thin out as you go up. Like us before, you would grow tired of your nuances and fart to a standstill. You would bore your neighbors out of their minds and remain something of a hired gun.

When others are basking in the mild sun, you would call in sick. The whole of Africa would be sipping a mug of tea while you waste your time killing a housefly with bazooka. You would poke and prod each other to no end while Mama Africa dances around its literature. Yours would be the tale of a hard-luck dog.

As South Sudanese, we have come out on the other side and folded our laundry. We will write this one off to experience. It is pretty much for all eyes to see behind the curve. We will get a grain of satisfaction to see others in Africa flicking the fly away. War is unwelcome at all times.

To prove a point, I will spend a ton of my time at Kwani? 2012 Litfest filling places till the small hours to learn from others. I know it is going to be a full house. I expect to see writers like cans, all lined up. Iam going to chill out and just get a grip. I trust they will also be happy to watch me playing in the shallow end of the pool! You already know, I will have not strayed far from mommy’s house!

"Moving" to Nairobi

nospam@example.com (Miriam Daepp) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 18:35:05 +0100

Kwani Litfest
By Dzekashu MacViban

It is hard to visualize what a literary festival is all about when one is from a country that hasn’t had an international literary festival for more than ten years, and my knowledge of literary festivals is limited to what Google spews out from YouTube videos to Tolu Ogunlesi's blog. Nevertheless, it will be exciting to experience Kenyan culture which is known worldwide for its multiple types of music and over forty regional languages, as well as various ethnicities. I cannot help but wonder how different or similar Kenyan culture is to Cameroonian culture. I also wonder what the Kenyan art scene looks like. Thanks to the social media, news and pictures of the monthly Kwani Open mic poetry sessions reach me and I cannot help but wonder how similar it can be to the monthly poetry café organized here in Yaoundé, in which I’ve been guest poet.

It will be interesting to discover the notion of how one loses time as one travels eastwards into a different time zone; how one’s watch will show time that is different from what one observes in the sky.
As the Kwani Literary Festival draws closer, I realize that its choice to focus on the horn of Africa is very timely given that it is a region full of conflict and the role of writers from regions of the horn (as well as from every other place) is to seek ways forward, or ways of reinventing themselves and their countries, that is why the inherently social function of art cannot be ignored.

Finally, I’d like to thank the Goethe-Institut, especially Raphaël Mouchangou, Franziska Lukas and Anna Theodor for the opportunity they’ve given me to join the Moving Africa Programme.