tag:theconversation.com,2011:/fr/topics/rafiki-66817/articlesRafiki – The Conversation2023-09-26T12:12:46Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2130072023-09-26T12:12:46Z2023-09-26T12:12:46ZQueer film in Africa is rising – even in countries with the harshest anti-LGBTIQ+ laws<p><em>A recent book, <a href="https://www.nisc.co.za/products/111/books/queer-bodies-in-african-films">Queer Bodies in African Films</a>, studies the growing LGBTIQ+ output from film-makers around the continent, from Morocco to South Africa. In the process it analyses what queerness is and means within the context of African countries. Its author, Gibson Ncube, is a lecturer and <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?hl=en&user=M5o4S3EAAAAJ&view_op=list_works&sortby=pubdate">scholar</a> who focuses his research on queerness in African cultural production – from literature to films. We asked him four questions.</em></p>
<h2>Is there a growing queer representation in films from African countries?</h2>
<p>Yes, the last decade has seen a proliferation of these films. <a href="https://theconversation.com/from-nollywood-to-new-nollywood-the-story-of-nigerias-runaway-success-47959">Nigeria’s Nollywood</a> has produced a <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/nollywood-lgbtq-movies/">considerable body</a> of films portraying queer lived experiences. Although most of these experiences remain largely formulaic and moralistic, there have been films like the 2020 lesbian love story <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/style/article/ife-queer-film-nigeria-intl/index.html">Ife</a> which offer positive images of queerness in Nigeria. </p>
<p>With its long history of queer representation in film, South Africa continues to produce work that highlights the diversity of LGBTIQ+ experiences. Christiaan Olwagen’s coming-of-age war musical <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8595480/">Kanarie</a> appeared in 2018. The following year saw <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt10699362/">Moffie</a> by Oliver Hermanus, set in the <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/history-apartheid-south-africa">apartheid</a> army. And Bonnie Sithebe’s 2022 lesbian drama <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt21437200/">Valley of a Thousand Hills</a> is set in traditional rural South Africa.</p>
<p>Importantly, there have also been features from countries that previously had not produced such themed films. For example, the 2015 <a href="https://www.tchindas.com/">Tchindas</a> is about a queer carnival in Cape Verde. <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt14154538/">Kapana</a> is a 2020 gay love story from Namibia. A documentary about being gay in conservative Sudan, <a href="https://www.theartofsin.movie/about">The Art of Sin</a>, appeared in 2020. </p>
<p>Also, there have been films from countries with some of the harshest <a href="https://theconversation.com/being-queer-in-africa-the-state-of-lgbtiq-rights-across-the-continent-205306">LGBTIQ+ laws</a>, such as Nigeria (<a href="https://www.pulse.ng/entertainment/movies/pulse-movie-review-hell-or-high-water-starts-a-necessary-conversation-about/9t7nfeg">Hell and High Water</a>), Uganda (<a href="https://pearlofafrica.tv/">The Pearl of Uganda</a>) and Kenya (<a href="https://www.watchiamsamuel.org/">I am Samuel</a>). </p>
<p>But film-makers still have to contend with diverse forms of <a href="https://theconversation.com/banning-african-films-like-rafiki-and-inxeba-doesnt-diminish-their-influence-162315">banning and censorship</a>. This does not, of course, diminish the films’ growing influence.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7M_-ucSaFpU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>African queer films often navigate unique social, cultural and political challenges – such as deep rooted homophobia and colonial legacies. They explore the complexities of being both queer and African, and often incorporate traditional cultural elements. These films contribute to a broader global discourse on queer issues while offering distinct perspectives and narratives.</p>
<h2>What is the book’s main argument?</h2>
<p>The main argument is in two parts. Firstly, I argue that the body is central in understanding queerness in African film. I first watched some of the films in their original languages and without subtitles. Although I did not understand languages like Afrikaans, Arabic or Kiswahili, I found that the visuality of queer bodies told stories. The bodies told stories in a language that wasn’t verbal or oral. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2LnqvjL7JZM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>Secondly, I contend that it is important to think of how queer bodies come into being in different parts of the continent. I undertake a pan-African reading of films from various regions to emphasise not only the differences in how they depict queer bodies but also the shared experiences that transcend regional and cultural differences. </p>
<p>One of the main differences between films north and south of the Sahara is the openness of depicting queerness. In north African films, queerness exists in silence and is expressed through suggestive language. In sub-Saharan films, there is a move to more unconcealed representations. But the films capture the cultural and social realities of the societies being portrayed. </p>
<h2>Please tell us about a few of the films you studied</h2>
<p>Some were better known than others. I examined contemporary films like <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1922721/">Skoonheid</a> (Beauty) by Oliver Hermanus, the 2011 gay drama set in a conservative Afrikaans community, and the 2013 Moroccan coming-of-age drama <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3016266/">Salvation Army</a> by <a href="https://theconversation.com/abdellah-ta-a-is-moroccos-first-openly-gay-writer-his-work-reimagines-being-muslim-queer-and-african-205574">Abdellah Taïa</a>. I also looked at the gay 2017 Xhosa initiation school drama <a href="https://theconversation.com/no-the-award-winning-film-inxeba-isnt-a-disrespectful-gay-sex-romp-92462">Inxeba/The Wound</a> by John Trengove and the 2018 Kenyan lesbian romance <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8286894/">Rafiki</a> by <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-kenyan-film-director-taking-on-the-world-with-positive-stories-of-black-life-149689">Wanuri Kahiu</a>. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Q4PHTUM9o9s?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>These films have <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=skoonheid&btnG=">attracted</a> <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=salvation+army+film&btnG=">considerable</a> <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=inxeba&btnG=">academic</a> <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=rafiki+wanuri+kahiu&oq=rafiki">attention</a>. But I reread them by focusing on the representation of the queer bodies. </p>
<p>For example, Inxeba has previously been <a href="https://issuu.com/849269/docs/signals_edition3_august_2021/s/13170457">analysed</a> for the way in which queerness exists within the traditional Xhosa ceremonies of <em>ulwaluko</em> (circumcision and rites of initiation into manhood). I concentrate rather on the penis and how <em>ulwaluko</em> is a process of conferring symbolic and cultural authority to this organ. I demonstrate that the penis can be a site of rethinking masculinity and also what queerness means in traditional black societies of post-apartheid South Africa. Instead of portraying the penis as virile and domineering, Inxeba considers the penis as vulnerable and feeble. Through this focus, I attempt to understand queer embodiment.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0idwRX0d6nM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>I also examine little-known films from north Africa like the 2009 lesbian drama <a href="https://africanarguments.org/2021/01/silence-and-skin-depicting-queerness-in-maghrebian-films/">Al Dowaha</a> (Buried Secrets) by Tunisian director Raja Amari and the 2006 Muslim drama exploring masculinity <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2007/sep/14/worldcinema.drama">Imarat Yácubyan</a> (The Yacoubian Building) by Egyptian film-maker Marwan Hamed. </p>
<p>Through their varied depictions, these films play a significant role in making visible marginalised gender and sexual identities. They provide a crucial visual archive that contributes to our understanding of queer lives in north Africa.</p>
<h2>What did you learn from studying these films?</h2>
<p>Studying these films has yielded a profound understanding of queer experiences within diverse African cultural contexts. They undoubtedly <a href="https://mg.co.za/thoughtleader/opinion/2022-05-25-opinion-how-film-can-shape-our-understanding-of-african-queer-realities/">shape our understanding</a> of queer lives and experiences in a continent where queerphobia remains rampant. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/g53RMlYqTMk?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>The films provide vital representation, challenging stereotypes and fostering visibility for marginalised communities. African queer cinema contributes to global discussions on important human rights questions. </p>
<p>The films also showcase cinematic innovation and underscore the role of media in social change. Moreover, studying these films chronicles the journey of queer rights in Africa. It reflects both progress and setbacks, while fostering community building and solidarity among queer individuals and allies.</p>
<p>The book highlights the rich diversity of experiences within African LGBTQ+ communities. It debunks the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/oct/02/homosexuality-unafrican-claim-historical-embarrassment">myth</a> that queerness is unAfrican and a western import and shows that queer individuals have always been part of African societies.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/213007/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gibson Ncube does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Despite harsh laws, a growing number of African countries are representing queer life in their cinema.Gibson Ncube, Lecturer, Stellenbosch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1623152021-06-17T16:10:29Z2021-06-17T16:10:29ZBanning African films like Rafiki and Inxeba doesn’t diminish their influence<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406430/original/file-20210615-3862-vfbp5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A still from Rafiki, a film by Wanuri Kahiu, Kenya (2018)</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rafiki/Big World Cinema</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Social media and internet forums function as an important space of contestation for issues relating to queer identities. This is evident in reactions to two fairly recent queer-themed African films, one from South Africa – <a href="https://www.urucumedia.com/the-wound"><em>Inxeba/The Wound</em></a> – and the other from Kenya – <a href="http://bigworldcinema.com/production/rafiki-2/"><em>Rafiki</em></a>. </p>
<p>The films were met with diverse responses, from government bannings and cultural backlash to enthusiastic viewers and international awards. On social media and internet forums, reactions differ from those of state institutions. </p>
<p>These various responses should be understood against the <a href="https://ilga.org/downloads/ILGA_World_State_Sponsored_Homophobia_report_global_legislation_overview_update_December_2020.pdf">background</a> that in many African countries, with the exception of South Africa in this case, queer sexualities are <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/us-nigeria-lgbt-lawmaking-idUSKBN27C2XQ">criminalised</a> and deemed ‘unAfrican’. Many <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/oct/02/homosexuality-unafrican-claim-historical-embarrassment">argue</a> that <a href="https://news.trust.org/item/20200611080955-8e3gb/">homophobia itself is unAfrican</a> and a relic of colonial laws and mores.</p>
<p>In <a href="https://www.ajol.info/index.php/eia/article/view/203848">my research</a>, I have explored the fact that African queer lives are complex and don’t tell a single story. By viewing these films as popular social texts it became clear that government censorship has been unable to stop support for them or the kinds of discussions they generate, especially online.</p>
<h2>Films as popular social texts</h2>
<p>In Africa, films have become popular social texts. They are readily accessible and easily distributed, thanks to the internet and hand-held screen devices as well as the large-scale sale of <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-who-and-how-of-pirates-threatening-the-nollywood-film-industry-56952">pirated DVDs</a>. The informality of circulation, coupled with the affordability of pirated films, has ensured that film has overtaken literary or text-based genres in influence in many parts of Africa.</p>
<p>Films like <a href="https://theconversation.com/no-the-award-winning-film-inxeba-isnt-a-disrespectful-gay-sex-romp-92462"><em>Inxeba</em></a> (2017) and <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-kenyan-film-director-taking-on-the-world-with-positive-stories-of-black-life-149689"><em>Rafiki</em></a> (2018) can function as popular social texts in that they can ask questions about social issues – in this case queer lived experiences on the continent. Popular social texts appeal to large audiences. It is against such sociocultural and political backgrounds that the reception of the films <em>Inxeba</em> and <em>Rafiki</em> should be understood. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0idwRX0d6nM?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Inxeba is set in a rural circumcision school.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>Inxeba</em> was directed by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1626716/">John Trengove</a> and was released in 2017. It tells the story of how queer sexuality is negotiated within the cultural space of <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0081246316678176"><em>ulwaluko</em></a>, the Xhosa people’s rites of initiation into manhood. Two young minders engage in a gay relationship and a love triangle develops. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/no-the-award-winning-film-inxeba-isnt-a-disrespectful-gay-sex-romp-92462">No, the award-winning film Inxeba isn't a disrespectful gay sex romp</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Rafiki</em> was directed by Kenyan filmmaker <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1393967/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">Wanuri Kahiu</a>. It centres on two young women who fall in love in Nairobi after meeting because their fathers are contesting the same election. </p>
<p><em>Inxeba</em> presents picturesque images of the natural world. <em>Rafiki</em> offers a kaleidoscopic depiction of urban spaces. These vibrant and picturesque depictions contrast with the gloomy lived experiences of the protagonists. </p>
<h2>State bannings</h2>
<p>On its release, the South African Film and Publication Board <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-africa-returns-to-apartheid-era-censorship-with-the-banning-of-inxeba-92850">banned</a> <em>Inxeba</em>. The reason given, through a series of <a href="https://twitter.com/FPB_ZA/status/963667216435765248?s=20.%202018">tweets</a>, was “the perceived cultural insensibility and distortion of the Xhosa circumcision tradition (and) strong language in the film”. </p>
<p>Rafiki met a similar fate when it was released. The Kenya Film Classification Board said in a <a href="https://kfcb.co.ke/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/RAFIKI-BAN-1.jpg">statement</a> banning the film that its ending was “not remorseful enough, (making) it seem as if LBGT people can be accepted in Kenya”. The films were perceived as socially incorrect.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7M_-ucSaFpU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Rafiki is set in urban Kenya.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The reactions of these state boards highlight a reproduction of nationalist ideas that queer sexuality threatens African values. In thinking of these homophobic institutional reactions, it is important not to dismiss Africa as homophobic and primitive especially in relation to the West. In his book <a href="https://www.psupress.org/books/titles/978-0-271-08380-3.html"><em>Kenyan, Christian, Queer</em></a>, theology scholar Adriaan van Klinken explains that by considering Africa as backward and conservative there is a failure to <a href="https://theconversation.com/book-review-kenyan-christian-queer-is-a-powerful-departure-from-despair-130901">reflect on</a> the complex sociopolitical realities on the continent.</p>
<p>The upshot is that the legal measures of banning the films affected their circulation – both low budget films with seemingly limited distribution channels.</p>
<h2>Viewers and festivals</h2>
<p>Although <em>Inxeba</em> and <em>Rafiki</em> were banned in their home countries, they have received <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/apr/26/the-wound-review-raw-pain-and-challenge-of-male-circumcision-drama">critical</a> <a href="https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-rafiki-review-20190509-story.html">acclaim</a> and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8286894/awards">numerous</a> <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt6333070/awards">awards</a> at film festivals the world over. In the case of <em>Inxeba</em>, there were vociferous <a href="https://www.news24.com/citypress/trending/death-threats-attacks-lead-inxeba-producers-to-lay-human-rights-complaint-20180207">threats</a> and demonstrations, mainly by Xhosa-speaking men, who felt the film divulged the secrets of a sacrosanct ceremony.</p>
<p>The comments posted on social media platforms also make it possible to examine the reactions of viewers to the films. I illustrated this by focusing on the reactions expressed on Inxeba’s <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thewoundthefilm">Facebook</a> page. here’s a sample:</p>
<p>Reaction 1: “This is a disgrace to our culture…”</p>
<p>Reaction 2: “I didn’t like the story shame, I didn’t see the relevance. Sorry for being a party pooper.”</p>
<p>Reaction 3: “Thank you Lord … you have shown that you love us all regardless of what people are painting others to be, as if they do not belong or are just nothing.”</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A young man sits, contemplative in Western clothing in a forest; behind him a young man in traditional clothing with white body paint looks at him." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=373&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/406482/original/file-20210615-3738-cq9q9g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=469&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Star of Inxeba, Nakhane (front), received death threats for the role.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Inxeba/Urucu Media</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Using its YouTube page, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IKYOMEkSH8">Tuko TV Kenya</a> interviewed Kenyans about <em>Rafiki</em>. Here is a sample of the diversity of views canvassed:</p>
<p>Reaction 1: “I think we are over exposing our children and our community … As a country, we are not ready for this.”</p>
<p>Reaction 2: “It’s a movie trying to include everybody into the society and bringing inclusion and diversity.”</p>
<p>Reaction 3: “I feel like the argument that it is influencing or promoting homosexuality to me feels ridiculous because that is not something that can be promoted.”</p>
<p>These reactions show that audiences are more complex than governments admit. Moreover, the reactions – and many others like them – prove that the films are popular social texts which operate to shape queer life and responses to it. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-kenyan-film-director-taking-on-the-world-with-positive-stories-of-black-life-149689">The Kenyan film director taking on the world -- with positive stories of black life</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The screening of the two films (both were ‘unbanned’ on appeal – <em>Rafiki</em> for a brief period) has been important in initiating overdue conversations. Both films gesture towards the need for open discussion of queer sexualities and genders in Africa. They demand viewers to rethink not what it means to be queer in Africa, but what it means to be human.</p>
<h2>Asking questions</h2>
<p><em>Inxeba</em> and <em>Rafiki</em> are invaluable additions to the <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/lgbt-african-movies-moonlight-black-gay-identity/">growing</a> corpus of African films courageously depicting queer lived experiences. Although initially banned, their reception by viewers in and outside Africa has shown that they can start conversations on diverse social issues relating to non-normative African gender and sexual identities.</p>
<p>Through evoking emotions of discomfort, the films compel audiences to question their own views and biases on gender and sexual identities. The films thus have the capacity to subvert homophobic tendencies embodied in state responses.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/162315/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gibson Ncube does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Discussions about the films on social media and online forums show that African queer lives are complex and don’t tell a single story.Gibson Ncube, Lecturer, Stellenbosch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1496892020-11-25T14:36:33Z2020-11-25T14:36:33ZThe Kenyan film director taking on the world – with positive stories of black life<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368548/original/file-20201110-15-1pzluqu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Big World Cinema/Afrobubblegum</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In a 2017 <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/wanuri_kahiu_fun_fierce_and_fantastical_african_art/up-next?language=en">TED Talk</a>, the Kenyan film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1393967/">director</a> <a href="https://time.com/collection/time-100-next-2019/5718796/wanuri-kahiu/">Wanuri Kahiu</a> shared her mission to make what she called “Afrobubblegum” art. The aim is to contribute to a world where African audiences see themselves reflected in ways that capture a full range of human experiences. To go beyond agenda-driven single stories of war, famine and HIV that have characterised much storytelling about Africa. </p>
<p>Put simply, to tell stories where Africans are “loving and thriving and living … beautiful, vibrant lives” with the aim of creating among audiences a feeling that African lives are “worthy of more happiness”.</p>
<p>In 2018, Kahiu took Afrobubblegum’s aim and queered it in the form of <a href="http://bigworldcinema.com/production/rafiki-2/"><em>Rafiki</em></a>, a vibrant film that tells the story of two young Kenyan women who fall in love. </p>
<p>Same-sex sexual expression is <a href="https://theconversation.com/homosexuality-remains-illegal-in-kenya-as-court-rejects-lgbt-petition-112149">prohibited</a> in Kenya. The legal framework continues to deny the possibility of queer existence. In addition, <a href="https://africasacountry.com/2015/08/why-obama-blundered-by-speaking-out-on-lgbtq-rights-in-kenya">government officials</a> as well as religious leaders uphold a discourse of anti-homonationalism – to exclude queer-identifying people from the imagination of the nation. <em>Rafiki</em> was accused of promoting homosexuality and swiftly <a href="https://kfcb.co.ke/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/CEO-STATEMENT-ON-RAFIKI-RESTRICTION-27-4-2018.pdf">banned</a> by the Kenyan Censor Board.</p>
<p>Much of the international media focus has been on <em>Rafiki’s</em> ban in terms of the law and <a href="https://globalfreedomofexpression.columbia.edu/cases/kahiu-v-mutua/">human rights</a>. What has received less attention is the fact that, in telling an upbeat story of two women in love, Kahiu successfully achieved in 83 minutes something the Kenyan government remains unwilling to do: include queer Kenyans in the national imagination.</p>
<p>There’s a <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/lgbt-african-movies-moonlight-black-gay-identity/">growing body</a> of African films that tell queer stories, but <em>Rafiki</em> is one of the first feature-length films that fully celebrates queer love while also offering a glimpse of a future through the film’s happy, hopeful ending. This, I <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/13696815.2020.1816931">argue</a>, gives the film radical worldmaking potential. And as Kahiu’s star rises, she brings with her a more hopeful narrative for Black life.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7M_-ucSaFpU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption"><em>Rafiki</em> is the first Kenyan film to screen in competition at the Cannes Film Festival.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Queer worldmaking in <em>Rafiki</em></h2>
<p>Queer worldmaking describes the many ways in which heterosexual social structures have been challenged with the aim of creating a more equitable world in which queer people might thrive.</p>
<p>For some years in Kenya, a number of artists, writers and scholars have been engaged in worldmaking processes. Artists such as <a href="https://www.irex.org/people/neo-musangi">Neo Musangi</a>, for example, whose performance art <a href="https://kauru.co.za/neo-musangi-kenya-close-featured-artist/">challenges</a> gender normativity. Writers like <a href="https://www.pri.org/stories/2014-02-17/kenyas-gay-community-comes-out-one-story-time">Kevin Mwachiro</a> and the late <a href="https://africasacountry.com/2014/01/i-am-a-homosexual-mum/">Binvavanga Wainaina</a> whose writings on their experiences of being gay have effectively, in the words of <a href="https://time.com/70795/">Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie</a></p>
<blockquote>
<p>demystified and humanised homosexuality. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Like Kahiu with <em>Rafiki</em>, they have created a visual affirmation of queer existence that is often considered an important step in the worldmaking process.</p>
<p>There are several scenes in the film that are particularly significant for the way that Kahiu brings together hope and horizon in the plot and narrative. </p>
<p>In one, the lovers Kena and Ziki are alone on a rooftop discussing their plans for the future. Kahiu weaves together dreamy visuals with lingering glances as the young women gaze both at each other and at the horizon in ways that signal to queer-identifying audiences that there is hope for the future.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An urban street scene where two men on a stationary motorbike chat to a young woman standing in front of them and another young woman with pink hair extensions comes down some stairs towards them in the background." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=255&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=321&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=321&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/368544/original/file-20201110-21-1gusxl9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=321&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kena chats to friends as Zika approaches - their paths cross when their fathers become political rivals.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Big World Cinema/Afrobubblegum</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In another scene I analyse, the lovers are in a park, having fun in a paddleboat on a lake – showing queer-identifying people occupying public spaces around the neighbourhood. The Kenyan state’s official stance around homosexuality – that it is <a href="http://www.rci.uct.ac.za/sites/default/files/image_tool/images/429/feminist_africa_journals/archive/02/standpoints_-_unnatural_and_un-african-_contesting_queer-phobia_by_africagcos_political_leadership.pdf">“unnatural” and “unAfrican”</a> – together with the continuing criminalisation of queer bodies, makes this scene an important tool for queer visibility. It’s followed by the lover’s first date, in a nightclub. Here queer love and desire take centre stage in terms of visibility as they share their first kiss.</p>
<p>In the film’s final scene we see Kena standing on a hilltop. She’s just received news that Ziki has returned after being sent overseas by her parents as punishment for her lesbianism. In the closing scene, therefore, when we see a hand on Kena’s shoulder, we deduce from the smile on her face that this hand belongs to Ziki. In this way, <em>Rafiki’s</em> viewers are left with a glimpse of a happy ending that, to date, remains rare in the global queer film canon. </p>
<p>This, I argue, is truly Afrobubblegum in action.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/nigerias-queer-literature-offers-a-new-way-of-looking-at-blackness-133649">Nigeria's queer literature offers a new way of looking at blackness</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>My analysis is not confined to scenes from the film. The <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/rafiki-kenya-banned-her-film-for-its-corrupt-lesbian-romance-so-she-showed-it-off-to-the-world">banning</a> and later unbanning of <em>Rafiki</em> by the Kenyan courts also created a situation where the Afrobubblegum effect could be observed in action.</p>
<h2>Beyond the cinema screen</h2>
<p>Kahiu <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2019/apr/12/kenyan-director-wanuri-kahiu-rafiki-lesbianism-african-art">sued</a> the Kenyan authorities and won the right to screen <em>Rafiki</em> for a period of seven days. This is a prerequisite for eligibility for entry into the best international film category at the Academy Awards. Following the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-45605758">lifting</a> of the ban, <em>Rafiki</em> was shown to <a href="https://mg.co.za/article/2018-10-03-banned-kenyan-film-rafiki-film-tops-kenyas-box-office-in-limited-screening-run/">packed</a> cinemas in the Kenyan cities Nairobi, Mombasa and Kisumu.</p>
<p>I gathered data from media coverage of the screenings. A good deal of this was from interviews with queer cinema-goers who had gone to <a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2018/09/28/652302785/rafiki-the-lesbian-love-story-that-kenya-banned-and-then-unbanned">watch</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/a_avBsX60-s?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Director Wanuri Kahiu’s talk introducing Afrobubblegum as a creative vision.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A pattern emerged of queer viewers describing their excitement at seeing themselves reflected on the screen positively. But beyond this, they described how, by the very act of attending the screenings, they felt a sense of community, friendship and belonging in a state where they are commonly excluded from the national conversation. </p>
<p>Nor does the worldmaking potential of <em>Rafiki</em> and its director end there. The <a href="https://www.indiewire.com/2019/04/rafiki-interview-wanuri-kahiu-afrobubblegum-1202127697/">success</a> of <em>Rafiki</em> has helped Kahiu <a href="https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/heat-vision/disney-tackling-adaptation-broadway-musical-once-island-1305121">land</a> <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/10/on-the-come-up-wanuri-kahiu-set-to-direct-feature-based-on-the-hate-u-give-author-angie-thomas-book-1234599674/">projects</a> in the US, where she is set to <a href="https://deadline.com/2020/01/the-black-kids-movie-wanuri-kahiu-director-gotham-group-1202843336/">direct</a> an adaptation of Christina Hammond Reed’s novel <em><a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Black-Kids/Christina-Hammonds-Reed/9781534462724">The Black Kids</a></em>. She is also <a href="https://shadowandact.com/wild-seed-viola-davis-developing-adaptation-of-octavia-butler-novel-at-amazon-scripted-by-nnedi-okorafor-and-wanuri-kahiu">adapting</a> Octavia Butler’s book <em>Wild</em> <em>Seed</em> into a film. </p>
<p>In this way, her aim to tell positive stories about African and Black lives continues to inspire hope in audiences. Her work is particularly inspirational to African, African American and Black women.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/149689/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lyn Johnstone does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>It wasn’t just the film Rafiki - a joyful lesbian love story - but also the experience of going to watch it after it was unbanned that created a new kind of freedom.Lyn Johnstone, Research fellow, Royal Holloway University of LondonLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1133932019-03-18T13:33:49Z2019-03-18T13:33:49ZAfrica’s top film festival celebrates 50 years: what’s to celebrate, and learn<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/264120/original/file-20190315-28492-lcvjfq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The entrance to Fespaco's main venue, Cinema Burkina.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pier Paolo Frassinelli</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>There is no better place to assess the state of “auteur” African cinema than at its premier showcase, the biennial film festival in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. Popularly known by its acronym, Fespaco, the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-47348906">Festival panafricain du cinéma et de la télévision de Ouagadougou</a> recently celebrated its 50th birthday.</p>
<p>Fespaco and the 1966 Journées cinématographiques de Carthage in Tunisia were the earliest concrete steps towards the idea of African cinema on African soil. These two film festivals were the first major African events entirely dedicated to showcasing movies from across the continent. </p>
<p>In the words of former director of the Ouagadougou festival Michel Ouédraogo, Fespaco</p>
<blockquote>
<p>was created in a context in which the African states had recently acquired their independence and they wanted to express their sovereignty and their identity.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>To mark its half century, this year’s edition was themed “The Memory and Future of African Cinema”. In addition to the competitions for the various prizes, the organisers curated a retrospective of classic African films that were shown at pop up outdoor cinemas throughout the city.</p>
<p>Watched by festival goers and Burkinabés sitting on their scooters or plastic chairs, screenings included Souleymane Cissé’s <em>Finye</em> (1979) and <em>Baara</em> (1983), Med Hondo’s <em>Sarraounia</em> (1987), Idrissa Ouédraogo’s <em>Tilaï</em> (1991) and Gaston Kaboré’s <em>Buud Yam</em> (1997). More recent works such as Zola Maseko’s <em>Drum</em> (2005) and Alain Gomis’s <em>Tey</em> (2013) and <em>Felicite</em> (2017) were also shown. </p>
<p>But if the canonised past of African cinema was ripe for celebration, its present and future looked distinctly uncertain.</p>
<h2>A special table</h2>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/264125/original/file-20190315-28512-ub0w7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Ouagadougou statue of Ousmane Sembene.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pier Paolo Frassinelli</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Ouagadougou festival is the place historically associated with the African auteur filmmaker. The city is where <a href="https://theculturetrip.com/africa/senegal/articles/why-ousmane-sembene-is-considered-the-father-of-african-cinema/">Ousmane Sembène</a> and the other doyens of African film used to congregate at a special table at the Hôtel Indépendance before it was set aflame in 2014. </p>
<p>But who are Sembène’s heirs now?</p>
<p>Veteran Cameroonian filmmaker <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0067464/">Jean-Pierre Bekolo</a> was at Fespaco 2019 with <em>Les armes miraculeuses</em> (Miraculous Weapons). The film is set in the small Free State town of Vrede in 1960s apartheid South Africa. Two French women, the black female owner of a bed and breakfast and a political prisoner, discuss freedom, Sartre and the poetry of Negritude under the watchful eye of apartheid state security. It won the Ecobank Foundation’s Ousmane Sembène prize.</p>
<p>Otherwise, it was emergent filmmakers who got the lion’s share of awards and grabbed audience attention. The top prize, L'Étalon d'or de Yennenga for the best film, was deservedly awarded to young Rwandan director <a href="http://www.neonrouge.com/en/joel-karekezi">Joel Karekezi</a> for <em>La miséricorde de la jungle</em> (The Mercy of the Jungle). A beautifully shot, gripping story, it brings the audience deep into the jungle on the border of Rwanda and Congo where two soldiers battle for survival during the Second Congo War. </p>
<p>The film also clinched best actor for co-star Marc Zinga. The prize for best actress went to <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/fespaco-2019-samantha-mugatsia-best-actress-rafiki/">Samantha Mugatsia</a> for her nuanced performance in Wanuri Kahui’s Kenyan lesbian romance <em>Rafiki</em>, which has already made history for being selected at Cannes after being banned in its home country.</p>
<h2>Young filmmakers</h2>
<p>The fact that these young filmmakers and actors are bursting onto the scene no doubt bodes well for the future. But questions still linger about the future of the festival and its packaging of African cinema.</p>
<p>Is this the kind of venue where one comes to see what is new in film production across the continent? Is auteur cinema what African audiences are interested in? How about the videos eagerly consumed by Africans across the continent: from the phenomenon of Nollywood to the bongo movie industry in Tanzania? Are the tastes of their audiences catered for?</p>
<p>Perhaps a good way of answering these questions is by looking at how the Fespaco is changing.</p>
<p>Since 2015, films shot digitally have become eligible for the festival’s main prize, which was previously reserved for celluloid films only. At the 2019 edition, the two movies that got the warmest reception among the screenings I attended were not the kind of film one normally associates with Fespaco. One was the Ivorian film <em>Resolution</em>, an earnest denunciation of gender violence that had the audience voicing its disapproval at the physical brutality inflicted upon the female protagonist and cheering her resolution to finally stand up to her abusive husband. </p>
<p>The second was <em>Hakkunde</em> (In between). It is the first Nigerian publicly crowdfunded movie by Africa Magic Viewers’ Choice Awards (AMVCA) award-winning director and producer Oluseyi Asurf Abuwa. This Nollywood-style comic tale of a self-made man also got the audience laughing and applauding. The audible approval for both of these films was no doubt a sign of the times.</p>
<p>The other issue that stood out was the contestation surrounding how the festival’s history and present are dominated by men. After 50 years, no woman director has won the festival’s main prize.</p>
<p>This year, out of a selection of 124 films in competition for the various prizes and 79 not in competition, women represented a small portion of the directors participating: only 30 films in competition and nine not in competition. But even though they were outnumbered, women were not silent. Festival events included a meeting titled “Where are the women?” and a round table organised by the collective “Non aligned filmmakers” on the place of women in African cinema.</p>
<h2>A lack of focus</h2>
<p>But perhaps the biggest challenge faced by Fespaco has to do with the forms of attention that the seventh art requires. The festival was very well attended. The main venue, Ciné Burkina, was usually packed. However, part of the audience seemed incapable of focusing on the film they had ostensibly come to watch instead of the tiny screens of their cell phones, which kept flickering and occasionally ringing. </p>
<p>I wondered why there were no pre-show announcements asking the audience to turn off their phones. It’s possibly because these <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/11/theater/theaters-struggle-with-patrons-phone-use-during-shows.html">announcements don’t work</a> anyway. </p>
<p>Maybe, if it is to survive and thrive, African cinema must adapt to today’s audiences, digital devices and forms of distraction. The Nigerian video industry has already started producing short films and clips that are easier and cheaper to stream on phones. As Nollywood scholar Jonathan Haynes commented at a recent seminar, the “future is on Android”.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/113393/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Pier Paolo Frassinelli is the recipient of a University of Johannesburg University Research Council grant for a project titled "African cinemas: spaces, audiences and genres".</span></em></p>Fespaco, Africa’s premier film festival, celebrated its 50th anniversary in Burkina Faso. For African cinema to survive, it must adapt to today’s audiences and forms of distraction.Pier Paolo Frassinelli, Associate Professor, Communication Studies, University of JohannesburgLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1118372019-02-21T14:17:42Z2019-02-21T14:17:42ZHow young filmmakers are protecting artistic freedom in Kenya<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/259722/original/file-20190219-43281-n7svqj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Rafiki was banned from cinemas by the Kenya Film Classification Board for promoting same-sex relationships.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Supplied</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Artistic freedom was always tenuous in Kenya, but it’s become even less so since <a href="https://www.news24.com/Tags/People/uhuru_kenyatta">Uhuru Kenyatta</a> became president in 2013. The political pendulum has swung against political dissenters, intellectuals and a handful of media institutions that still believed in objective journalism.</p>
<p>Progressive gains made under the previous administration of President <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/topic/person/mwai-kibaki">Mwai Kibaki</a>(2002-2013), such as the freedom of press and speech, have disintegrated. In particular, Kenyatta and the men overseeing the country’s cultural landscape, have rolled back artistic freedom by banning films that attempted to expand identity or interpreted it differently. The most prominent <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-43922780">example</a> is <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/may/09/rafiki-review-sweet-lesbian-romance-aims-to-change-kenyan-hearts-and-minds-cannes"><em>Rafiki</em></a>, a recent Kenyan film that was banned for “promoting lesbianism”. </p>
<p>Historically, <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1057/9781137574633_5">artistic freedom</a> has always been the outcome of struggle. For example, stage actors initiated the first struggle when post-colonial administrations outlawed theatre groups because actors associated themselves with institutions such as the University of Nairobi and Kenya National Theatre (see Ngugi wa Thiong'o’s <em><a href="https://www.uibk.ac.at/anglistik/staff/davis/decolonising-the-mind.pdf">Decolonising the Mind</a></em>). By and large, the two institutions hosted the most vocal government critics. It became standard procedure for the government to ask theatre groups to submit play scripts for “assessment” before it could issue a performance license. </p>
<p>Officials paid insignificant attention to musicians and film directors as they hardly antagonised the ruling elites and produced non-controversial items. An example was the sycophantic song, <em>Tawala Kenya Tawala</em> (“rule Kenya rule”), composed and produced by <a href="https://www.musicinafrica.net/fr/node/6327">Thomas Wasonga</a>. The lyrics exhorted Daniel Arap Moi, Kenya’s second post-colonial president, to rule eternally. Wasonga’s conservative counterparts in the film industry avoided politics, limiting their cinematic gaze to less controversial themes.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UDqlqpB3m00?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The Moi praise song.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Recently, however, a progressive group of young filmmakers has changed the contours informing cinematic themes. Ambitious and daring, they have inspired a national dialogue of what constitutes free speech as encapsulated in the country’s new <a href="http://extwprlegs1.fao.org/docs/pdf/ken127322.pdf">Constitution</a>, as well as artistic freedom, and individual and societal identity. </p>
<h2>Ambitious and daring</h2>
<p>Unlike their forebears, young filmmakers are increasingly embracing cinema as an ideal platform on which to construct a pluralistic identity that includes the LGBTQ community. This has offended the government’s sensibility. Consequently, it has brought cinema under heightened scrutiny. </p>
<p>In September 2014, the Nest Collective, a production company that produced <em><a href="http://www.thisisthenest.com/sool-film">The Stories of Our Lives</a></em>, applied for a license to distribute and exhibit the film. They received a rejection letter from the Kenya Film and Classification Board, a government agency that regulates film content, which claimed that the film had obscenity, explicit scenes of sexual activities and it promotes homosexuality which, is contrary to our national norms and values.</p>
<p>The classification board drew the producer’s attention to a piece of legislation – the Film & Plays Stage Act – that borrows heavily from the colonial government’s <a href="https://books.google.co.za/books?id=YXfMCQAAQBAJ&pg=PA103&lpg=PA103&dq=The+Stage+Plays+and+Cinematography+Exhibitions+Ordinance,+1912&source=bl&ots=x_a7cGqGcG&sig=ACfU3U3YNvf5QPngp3icFy_ovI7hW4hk3w&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiZkLOqqczgAhUiRxUIHSTrDH0Q6AEwBHoECAYQAQ#v=onepage&q=The%20Stage%20Plays%20and%20Cinematography%20Exhibitions%20Ordinance%2C%201912&f=false">The Stage Plays and Cinematography Exhibitions Ordinance, 1912</a>. During the colonial period the ordinance was used to censor Hollywood westerns to shield African audience from undesirable ideas such as kissing, sex, shooting and nudity. </p>
<p>Rather than evoke Kenya’s Constitution – which protects the “freedom to seek, receive or impart information or ideas”, and the “freedom of artistic creativity” – to sue the board, the Nest Collective retreated. It took its case to social media, where, as expected, it died.</p>
<h2>Same tactic</h2>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/259726/original/file-20190219-43261-1x9n2mj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Rafiri’ director Wanuri Kahiu, with actors Samantha Mugatsia and Sheila Munyiva at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Clemens Bilan</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Four years later, classification board officials <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-43922780">banned</a> <em>Rafiki</em> in May 2018 because, as they pointed out, it contained,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>homosexual scenes that are against the law, the culture and moral values of the Kenyan people.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It warned that anyone found in possession of the film would be in breach of the law in Kenya, where gay sex is punishable by 14 years. </p>
<p>The film’s director, Wanuri Kahiu, <a href="https://www.out.com/entertainment/2019/2/15/director-sued-kenyan-government-screen-her-lgbtq-film">sued</a> the Board. She argued in court that the ban violated her constitutional right to free speech and artistic freedom of expression. Kahiu insisted that Kenya is,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>made up of different types of people with different imaginations. There should be freedom to express these imaginations, because imagination doesn’t have boundaries.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The country’s high court agreed with her. They <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-africa-45609494/kenya-lifts-ban-on-lesbian-film-rafiki-ahead-of-oscars">lifted</a> the ban for seven days, allowing the film to be screened and become eligible to be submitted as Kenya’s entry for Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">‘Rafiki’s’ trailer.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Random act</h2>
<p>The censorship of cultural productions doesn’t happen in a vacuum, nor is it a random act designed to secure imagined norms and values. It is a calculated and premediated act of subjugation and an act of authoritarianism. In the cultural sphere this begins when the ruling class imagines and constructs a national identity that encompasses nonexistent and undefined principles — such as moral values and norms. It then moves to create competing categories of people, “us” versus “them”. Once this is complete, the chips are expected to fall in place. </p>
<p>However, young filmmakers are resisting this path. Resisting it is the only way in which artists can ensure they retain a freer artistic spaces. But that requires acts of courage. As Martin Luther King Jr <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1990/11/13/opinion/what-dr-king-wrote-and-what-he-did.html">reminded</a> the world in 1963 from a Birmingham jail:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor, it must be demanded by the oppressed. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>This, exactly, is what <em>Rafiki</em>‘s Kahiu did when she sued the government. It’s what the Nest Collective failed to do. Local artists seeking artistic freedom must follow in Kahiu’s footsteps and peel back the veneer that legitimises censorship.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/111837/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Samson Kaunga Ndanyi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A Kenyan film director sued her country’s film board and won. Local artists should follow suit and fight censorship.Samson Kaunga Ndanyi, Assistant Professor of African History, Rhodes CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.