Sefi Atta hat ihren neuen Roman im Nigeria Mitte der 1980iger Jahre angesiedelt. Ibrahim Babangida hat sich an die Macht geputscht und Lagos ist noch die unbestreitbare Königin der Hauptstädte. Es zelebriert seine Gegensätze, ganz so wie die beiden Protagonistinnen. Das Einzelkind Tolani hat die volle Aufmerksamkeit ihrer Eltern genossen und versucht die ihr vermittelten moralischen Werte in das Großstadtleben zu integrieren. Sie träumt den klassischen Traum einer zukünftigen Ehe mit ihrem zaghaften Freund Sanwo. Rose kommt aus einer kinderreichen Familie, hat mehrere gescheiterte Beziehungen hinter sich und möchte ihr Glück durch einen Mann mit Geld finden.

Der Arbeitsplatz der beiden Protagonistinnen ist eine Bank auf Lagos Island. Sefi Atta gelingt es mit Witz und Satire die verschlungenen Wege der Hierarchien darzustellen. Wer wem wie begegnen darf, ist nicht nur mit tradierten, sozialen Normen verbunden, es ist eine sich wandelnde Kombination aus Geschlecht, Position und Geld. Für die Sekretärinnen Tolani und Rose ist es beschwerlicher an diesem Arbeitsplatz zu bestehen, als die Stadtautobahn in der Hauptverkehrszeit zu überqueren.

Aus der Perspektive von Tolani erzählt Sefi Atta, welchen Repressalien die beiden Frauen ausgesetzt sind. Willkür bei Arbeitsaufträgen, sexuelle Belästigung und permanente Beobachtung durch die anderen Mitarbeiter zerren an den Nerven von Tolani und Rose. Nach einem Streit mit ihrem Vorgesetzten verliert Rose ihren Job. In brillanten Dialogen skizziert die Autorin die wachsende Verzweiflung der beiden jungen Frauen. Die Lebenserhaltungskosten in Lagos sind hoch und als Tolani ebenfalls in Schwierigkeiten gerät, und ihren Arbeitsplatz zu verlieren droht, fassen die beiden Frauen einen Entschluss, der sie endgültig aus ihrer Misere befreien soll.

„Swallow“ ist der Titel des Buches im Original, der ein essentielles Thema des Romans umschreibt. Rose findet ihren Mann mit Geld und er bietet den beiden eine scheinbar einfache Lösung ihrer Probleme an, die Arbeit als Drogenkuriere. Tagelang sitzen Tolani und Rose in ihrer Wohnung und versuchen Kondome, gefüllt mit Kokain, zu schlucken.

Kurz vor ihrem geplanten Abflug nach Europa, entschließt sich Tolani, einen anderen Weg zu gehen. Sie sieht Rose nie wieder.

Sefi Atta erzählt diese tragische Geschichte mit großem psychologischem Gespür und dem grandiosen Humor, der die Erzähltradition Nigerias prägt. Die Figuren, die Tolani und Rose bei ihrem Kampf um eine würdige Existenz begleiten, sind in die realen Lebensentwürfe einer Millionenstadt eingebettet. Die alleinerziehende Krankenschwester, die in der Gewerkschaft tätig ist und seit Monaten keinen Lohn bekommen hat, der Arbeitskollege, der sich ganz einer religiösen Gemeinschaft verschrieben hat, die ehemalige Prostituierte, die einen erfolgreichen Friseursalon führt - diese Stimmen verschmelzen durch Sefi Attas Kunst zu einem Chor der Überlebenskünstler.

Durch einen geschickt eingeflochtenen reflexiven Dialog der Erzählerin Tolani mit ihrer Mutter gelingt es der Autorin, die Auswirkungen der kolonialen Vergangenheit Nigerias auf die Gegenwart aus weiblicher Perspektive in Szene zu setzen.

Sefi Atta hat ihr Erzähltempo dem der Metropole Lagos angepasst. Die Lesenden können sich diesem Sog nicht entziehen. Der Mut, die Vitalität und der Eigensinn der Figuren machen diesen Roman zu einem unvergleichlichen Leseerlebnis.

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Der Peter Hammer Verlag hat 2 Exemplare des Buches zur Verlosung zur Verfügung gestellt, Email an redaktion(at)afrikanet.info.

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Sefi Atta, It`s my turn, aus dem Englischen von Eva Plorin, Peter Hammer Verlag 2010, 272 Seiten, ISBN: 978-3-7795-0296-8

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13. August 2010 - Good evening, everybody.  Welcome.  Please, have a seat.  Well, welcome to the White House.  To you, to Muslim Americans across our country, and to more than one billion Muslims around the world, I extend my best wishes on this holy month.  Ramadan Kareem. 

I want to welcome members of the diplomatic corps; members of my administration; and members of Congress, including Rush Holt, John Conyers, and Andre Carson, who is one of two Muslim American members of Congress, along with Keith Ellison.  So welcome, all of you.

Here at the White House, we have a tradition of hosting iftars that goes back several years, just as we host Christmas parties and seders and Diwali celebrations.  And these events celebrate the role of faith in the lives of the American people. They remind us of the basic truth that we are all children of God, and we all draw strength and a sense of purpose from our beliefs.

These events are also an affirmation of who we are as Americans.  Our Founders understood that the best way to honor the place of faith in the lives of our people was to protect their freedom to practice religion.  In the Virginia Act of Establishing Religion Freedom, Thomas Jefferson wrote that “all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion.”  The First Amendment of our Constitution established the freedom of religion as the law of the land.  And that right has been upheld ever since.

Indeed, over the course of our history, religion has flourished within our borders precisely because Americans have had the right to worship as they choose -– including the right to believe in no religion at all.  And it is a testament to the wisdom of our Founders that America remains deeply religious -– a nation where the ability of peoples of different faiths to coexist peacefully and with mutual respect for one another stands in stark contrast to the religious conflict that persists elsewhere around the globe.

Now, that's not to say that religion is without controversy. Recently, attention has been focused on the construction of mosques in certain communities -– particularly New York.  Now, we must all recognize and respect the sensitivities surrounding the development of Lower Manhattan.  The 9/11 attacks were a deeply traumatic event for our country.  And the pain and the experience of suffering by those who lost loved ones is just unimaginable.  So I understand the emotions that this issue engenders.  And Ground Zero is, indeed, hallowed ground.

But let me be clear.  As a citizen, and as President, I believe that Muslims have the same right to practice their religion as everyone else in this country.  (Applause.)  And that includes the right to build a place of worship and a community center on private property in Lower Manhattan, in accordance with local laws and ordinances.  This is America.  And our commitment to religious freedom must be unshakeable.  The principle that people of all faiths are welcome in this country and that they will not be treated differently by their government is essential to who we are.  The writ of the Founders must endure.

We must never forget those who we lost so tragically on 9/11, and we must always honor those who led the response to that attack -– from the firefighters who charged up smoke-filled staircases, to our troops who are serving in Afghanistan today. And let us also remember who we’re fighting against, and what we’re fighting for.  Our enemies respect no religious freedom.  Al Qaeda’s cause is not Islam -– it’s a gross distortion of Islam.  These are not religious leaders -– they’re terrorists who murder innocent men and women and children.  In fact, al Qaeda has killed more Muslims than people of any other religion -– and that list of victims includes innocent Muslims who were killed on 9/11.

So that's who we’re fighting against.  And the reason that we will win this fight is not simply the strength of our arms -– it is the strength of our values.  The democracy that we uphold. The freedoms that we cherish.  The laws that we apply without regard to race, or religion, or wealth, or status.  Our capacity to show not merely tolerance, but respect towards those who are different from us –- and that way of life, that quintessentially American creed, stands in stark contrast to the nihilism of those who attacked us on that September morning, and who continue to plot against us today.

In my inaugural address I said that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness.  We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus —- and non-believers.  We are shaped by every language and every culture, drawn from every end of this Earth.  And that diversity can bring difficult debates.  This is not unique to our time.  Past eras have seen controversies about the construction of synagogues or Catholic churches.  But time and again, the American people have demonstrated that we can work through these issues, and stay true to our core values, and emerge stronger for it.  So it must be -– and will be -– today.

And tonight, we are reminded that Ramadan is a celebration of a faith known for great diversity.  And Ramadan is a reminder that Islam has always been a part of America.  The first Muslim ambassador to the United States, from Tunisia, was hosted by President Jefferson, who arranged a sunset dinner for his guest because it was Ramadan —- making it the first known iftar at the White House, more than 200 years ago.  (Applause.)     

Like so many other immigrants, generations of Muslims came to forge their future here.  They became farmers and merchants, worked in mills and factories.  They helped lay the railroads.  They helped to build America.  They founded the first Islamic center in New York City in the 1890s.  They built America’s first mosque on the prairie of North Dakota.  And perhaps the oldest surviving mosque in America —- still in use today —- is in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

Today, our nation is strengthened by millions of Muslim Americans.  They excel in every walk of life.  Muslim American communities —- including mosques in all 50 states —- also serve their neighbors.  Muslim Americans protect our communities as police officers and firefighters and first responders.  Muslim American clerics have spoken out against terror and extremism, reaffirming that Islam teaches that one must save human life, not take it.  And Muslim Americans serve with honor in our military. At next week’s iftar at the Pentagon, tribute will be paid to three soldiers who gave their lives in Iraq and now rest among the heroes of Arlington National Cemetery. 

These Muslim Americans died for the security that we depend on, and the freedoms that we cherish.  They are part of an unbroken line of Americans that stretches back to our founding; Americans of all faiths who have served and sacrificed to extend the promise of America to new generations, and to ensure that what is exceptional about America is protected -– our commitment to stay true to our core values, and our ability slowly but surely to perfect our union.

For in the end, we remain “one nation, under God, indivisible.”  And we can only achieve “liberty and justice for all” if we live by that one rule at the heart of every great religion, including Islam —- that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us.

So thank you all for being here.  I wish you a blessed Ramadan.  And with that, let us eat.  (Applause).

END                        
8:47 P.M. EDT 

Source: THE WHITEHOUSE

This is a question that may surprise many and indeed many may consider it wiser to leave unanswered rather than hazard untenable answers.  Michael Kaput has some views on this issue which he expresses in an article entitled, “Whose Heritage? Repatriating ancient treasures seems like a noble cause, but history might end up the loser.” The article has been reproduced in Elginism, a leading website devoted to the question of restitution, especially, the restitution of the Parthenon/Elgin Marbles. (1) 

Kaput does not give us any definition of history. If we take history as record of events and developments within a time framework, it becomes difficult to see why  the return of the bust of Nefertiti from Berlin to Cairo should be a loss to history. Did history suffer when the Egyptian queen was moved from Egypt to Germany? Or does history only suffer when artefacts are returned from their present locations in the West to their countries of origin? 

Following the well-known thesis of James Cuno and co, Kaput argues that the present contending States did not exist when the artefacts were made and transferred: 

“The war over antiquities is waged between modern nation states, which didn’t exist at the times the artifacts were created or removed. Many of the artifacts in question were taken across the borders of defunct political bodies, Ottoman-administered Egypt in the case of the Rosetta Stone, and Ottoman-administered Greece in the case of the Elgin Marbles. Though cases can be made for their return, it is logically and legally impossible to hold modern-day states accountable for the actions of past governments, regimes and empires.”

This argument has hitherto been advanced by the retentionists to deprive a claimant such as Egypt of her right to the bust of Nefertiti or to the Rosetta Stone. Kaput seems to be extending this contention to include an argument that the present holding States had not been in existence at the time of the alleged illegitimate transfers. Although he does not expressly say so, he seems to be implicitly extending the notion also to Great Britain and France by declaring that “Though cases can be made for their return, it is logically and legally impossible to hold modern-day states accountable for the actions of past governments, regimes and empires.”  This can only mean that the holding States did not exist at the time of transfer. At this point, we may start wondering whether he is really aware of what he is saying since Britain, and France  did exist at the time the disputed objects were removed. Whilst Cuno and co limited their questioning of the existence of present States at the time of production  or removal to  claiming States, Kaput extends the argument to holding States.  

As for modern States not being accountable for actions of past governments, regimes and empires, one may remind Kaput that there is such a notion as State  succession. He surely must be aware that the present German State and government have assumed certain obligations deriving from the nefarious activities of the evil Nazis and that the boundaries of many States are based on agreements made by previous States and governments. Without some kind of succession to both the good and bad deeds of previous States, life in present  States would be impossible.

Kaput buys completely Cuno’s idea that present-day Egyptians have no connections with ancient Egyptians:

“It is difficult to make the case that the artifacts of ancient Egypt were made by people bearing strong similarities to citizens of the modern-day Arab Republic of Egypt, just as it would be difficult for Greek PM Papindreou to say he has a tangible link to the lineage of Socrates. Though geography and cultural identity count for much personally, they are not consistent, logical or legal foundations for creating effective mechanisms to govern the return of antiquities”.

 We have already answered elsewhere the basic argument presented by Cuno on the alleged lack of continuity or links between ancient Egypt and present-day Egypt. If the  criteria set up by Cuno were applied to present-day France, Germany, Britain, and the United States, none of them would be able to hold artefacts found in their territories.(2) 

(…)

THE ENTIRE ARTICLE IN THE BELOWED ATTACHED DOCUMENT

NOTES:

1. 1. http://www.elginism.com

The article was first published at http://www.egypttoday.com  and has been mentioned in Egyptology News http://egyptology.blogspot.com

Ethiopian Review http://www.ethiopianreview.com

Lawyers Committee For Cultural Heritage Preservation http://www.culturalheritagelaw.org

1. 2. K. Opoku, “Do Present-Day Egyptians Eat the Same Food Tutankhamun? Review of James Cuno’s Who owns Antiquity?” http://www.modernghana.com

Die Autorin Marie NDiaye hat drei Geschichten über drei Frauen zu einem fulminanten Roman verwoben. Für „Trois femmes puissantes“, wie der Roman im Original betitelt ist, hat sie 2009 die höchste literarische Auszeichnung Frankreichs, den Prix Goncourt, erhalten. Die mediale Aufmerksamkeit hat sie unter anderem genutzt, um die Immigrationspolitik von Nicolas Sarkozy zu kritisieren. Ein Regierungsbeamter forderte daraufhin die „Pflicht zur Zurückhaltung von Prix Goncourt-PreisträgerInnen“ ein. Wie ihre Figuren, lässt sich Marie NDiaye, die seit 2007 mit ihrer Familie in Berlin lebt, nicht von den Insignien der Macht einschüchtern.

Die drei Protagonistinnen Norah, Fanta und Khady Demba ermächtigen sich, ihre Lebensentwürfe selbst zu gestalten. Schritt für Schritt, in Würde und Stolz treffen sie ihre Entscheidungen.

Norah wächst mit ihrer Schwester bei ihrer Mutter in Frankreich auf, während ihr Bruder Sony im Alter von fünf Jahren vom Vater in den Senegal mitgenommen wird. Der Schmerz dieser Trennung, die Wut auf den Vater, die Freude über die Ferien im Senegal, das Unvermögen des Vaters eine liebevolle Beziehung zu seinen Kindern aufzubauen sind die Hintergründe der nach außen hin perfekt organisierten Alleinerzieherin Norah. Der Vater bleibt unnahbar, sein scheinbar einziges Streben gilt der Freilassung seines Sohnes Sony, der beschuldigt wird, seine Stiefmutter getötet zu haben. Norah übernimmt die Verteidigung ihres Bruders und wird Zeugin der Geheimnisse ihres Vaters. Letztendlich bestimmt sie, wann und wie sie ihrem Vater nahe sein möchte.

In der zweiten Geschichte begegnen wir Fanta, die ein Geheimnis vor ihrem Mann Rudy zu bewahren versucht, das dieser bereits kennt. Marie NDiaye erzählt die zweite Geschichte aus der Perspektive Rudys. Er weiß um das Unglück seiner Frau, die er aus dem Senegal in ein Dorf in Frankreich bringt. Seine Versprechen, sie werde ein erfülltes Leben haben, sind bevor er sie zu Ende sagt, zu Lügen geworden. Ein Gescheiterter, der mit Unverständnis auf seine Frau, seinen Sohn und sich blickt. Erst als er in Gedanken zurück kehrt in seine Kindheit, in den Ferienort Dara Salam, löst sich der Knoten seiner Befangenheit. Und Fanta winkt aus ihrem Garten zum ersten Mal nach vielen Jahren ihrer Nachbarin zu.

Fanta ist eine entfernte Cousine des verstorbenen Mannes von Khady Demba. In der dritten Geschichte wird Khady Demba von ihrer Schwiegermutter nach Europa geschickt. Instinktiv entscheidet sie sich, aus dem desolaten Boot zu springen. Die Verletzung an ihrem Bein bemerkt sie am nächsten Morgen. Dieser Schmerz begleitet sie auf ihrem Weg nach Europa. Sie findet einen Reisebegleiter, der sie in eine demütigende Situation bringt und bestiehlt. Khady Demba lässt sich nicht beirren und entschlossen läuft sie am Ende auf die, die Kontinente trennende, Mauer zu. „Ich bin Khady Demba“ denkt sie zuversichtlich im Kugelhagel.

Mit virtuosen langen Sätzen, Bildern, die hoffnungsvoll und bitter zugleich sind und dem Wissen, dass die Welt nicht aus Schwarz und weiß besteht, zeichnet Marie NDiaye ein zeitgenössisches Triptychon aus Worten. Ihre Frauenfiguren sind Reisende, die jenseits der Grenzen von Nationen unterwegs sind. Mit diesen Lebensentwürfen, in ihrem Eigensinn und ihrer Selbstermächtigung, entwirft die Autorin fiktive Psychogramme einer weiblichen Realität. Ein Roman voller Zärtlichkeit, Schmerz und Zuversicht. Dieses Buch ist ein Geschenk, das sich erst in der Erinnerung vollkommen entfaltet.

Marie NDiaye: Drei starke Frauen, aus dem Französischen von Claudia Kalscheuer, Suhrkamp Verlag 2010, gebunden, 342 Seiten, ISBN: 978-3-518-42165-9, Euro 23,60

Sprache ist kein neutrales Medium, sie verändert sich ständig. Sprachliche Handlungen schaffen eine gesellschaftliche Wirklichkeit, die nie die oft zitierten „Objektivitätskriterien“ erfüllt. Durch gewählte Formulierungen werden Anschauungen und Wirklichkeitsvorstellungen aktiv hergestellt. Diskriminierung beschränkt sich nicht nur auf eindeutig rassistische Sprachhandlungen oder Schimpfwörter. Sie kommt weit häufiger verschleiert und versteckt vor.

Die vielen Formen der Zusammenhänge zwischen Rassismus und Sprache haben die beiden Wissenschafterinnen Adibeli Nduka-Agwu und Antje Lann Hornscheidt veranlasst, AutorInnen aus unterschiedlichen wissenschaftlichen Disziplinen einzuladen. Entstanden ist ein umfangreiches kritisches Nachschlagewerk zu rassistischen Sprachhandlungen in deutschsprachigen Gesellschaften.

Am anschaulichsten lassen sich die Veränderungen in der Bedeutung von Worten und Begriffen in deutschen Wörterbüchern nachlesen. Hier wird deutlich, dass die kritische kontinuierliche Auseinandersetzung mit rassistischen Begriffen, die Benutzungspraxis keineswegs verändert. Das Konzept von Macht und Sprache, in dem die Dominanzgesellschaft sprachliche Diskriminierung festschreibt und reproduziert, manifestiert sich in Wörterbucheinträgen. Wer im Duden unter dem N-Wort nachschlägt – wobei allein die Tatsache, dass dieses Wort in einem Wörterbuch zu finden ist, schon gesellschaftspolitisch relevant ist – wird mit der Möglichkeitsform konfrontiert: „wird häufig als diskriminierend empfunden“. Etwa 30 Jahre Sprachkritik führen letztendlich zu einem diffusen Eintrag. Es liegt in der Verantwortung der Sprechenden, ständig reflexiv ihren Sprachgebrauch zu überdenken.

Die Analyse von Begriffen wie „Tropenmedizin“, „Schwarzafrika“, „Ausländer_innen“, „Eskimo“ u.v.a., die in Medien, Schulbüchern, Liedern, kurzum im alltäglichen Sprachgebrauch gängig sind, diagnostiziert eine strukturelle Verankerung von Rassismus in den deutschsprachigen Gesellschaften.

Deutlich wird diese Tatsache in der ausführlichen Thematisierung von Begriffen, die nicht eindeutig rassistisch konnotiert sind, wie z. B. „Weltreligion versus Animismus“. Hier wird unterschwellig die „höher“ entwickelte europäische „Zivilisation“ transportiert. Aufgrund einer stereotypen Zuordnung werden Menschen vereinheitlicht.

Die gegenwärtig von politischen Handlungsträgern geforderte „Integration“ von zugewanderten Personen impliziert diese unbegründete Sehnsucht nach Vereinheitlichung in anderer Form. Im Grunde wird eine uneingeschränkte Anpassung an die kollektiv suggerierte „überlegene“ Gesellschaft gefordert. Paradoxerweise entsteht durch die Konstruktion eines „Wir“ und des „Anderen“ eine Differenz, die der als „anders“ konstruierten Person unterstellt, Defizite an „deutschem Wissen“ zu haben.

Alle Beiträge in diesem Buch vermitteln die unbehagliche Tatsache, dass jedes Wort eine Bedeutung hat, die über die „Gemeinte“ und „Gesagte“ hinausgehen kann. Es liegt in der Verantwortung des individuell Sprechenden, aus welcher Perspektive und in welchem Kontext wir sprachliche Handlungen setzen. Es gibt immer sprachliche Alternativen.

Im letzten Beitrag des Buches beschäftigt sich Adibili Nduka-Agwu mit der Macht der Bilder. Nicht nur Worte reproduzieren in ihrer konkreten Verwendung Rassismus, „unterschiedliche Bilder reproduzieren und tradieren rassistische Vorstellungen“. Sie plädiert, basierend auf dem Konzept „look back“ von bell hooks, für ein widerständiges Sehen - jenseits der tradierten Normen. Widerständiges Sehen und widerständiges Sprechen müssen täglich trainiert werden. Dieses Buch begleitet diejenigen, die die vielfältigen Formen des täglichen Wider_Redens und Wider_Sehens benennen wollen.

Rassismus auf gut Deutsch: Ein kritisches Nachschlagewerk zu rassistischen Sprachhandlungen von Adibeli Nduka-Agwu und Antje Lann Hornscheidt. Verlag Brandes & Apsel, 560 Seiten, ISBN: 978-3-86099-643-0

Washington DC, 30 July 2010 - A fortnight of memorial services to celebrate the life and to salute the work of veteran Cameroonian journalist Pius Njawe culminates this weekend and early next week in Washington, DC, with church services and the departure of his remains for its final resting place in Cameroon. How fitting that Njawe came to the Washington, DC, Metro Area - the city with the most journalists per square kilometer - to die! How fitting that he came to the land of freedom to be freed from the shackles of sin and flesh, but how sad that God’s time means we must suffer such loss even if it also reminds us that some, like Njawe, will never ever die. Njawe is death. Long live Njawe!

A fortnight of memorial services to celebrate the life and to salute the work of veteran Cameroonian journalist Pius Njawe culminates this weekend and early next week in Washington, DC, with church services and the departure of his remains for its final resting place in Cameroon.

I learned of Njawe’s passing in Kinshasa (DR Congo), where I was on mission. An email from my World Bank colleague Francois Gouahinga to Eric Chinje (then in South Africa) and I informed us of the accident. Francois said he feared the worst. As I write these lines, I am still in disbelief that “Grand Frère et Beau- Frère Pius”, as I called him (he was my professional senior and my spouse is his “sister” from Cameroon’s Haut Nkam Division) is, indeed, gone from us. Disbelief is the mood to be in, because Njawe is not dead. You don’t die when you are Njawe. Not from where I come. As with the kings in most parts of Grassland Cameroon from which we hail, Njawe has gone missing. Like royalty, he is not only to be mourned. He is to be found and replaced.

We should mourn for one reason, though. Njawe died before he had the chance to write the series of articles that should have been published had his trip to the USA not also been his last. For someone who, in the absence of pen and ink, could have used his own blood and – in the absence of paper – could have used even wasted toilet paper - to complete his article, not writing those articles has to be one of Njawe’s unfinished business. Leaving work for generations of journalists unborn is a masterly act in passing the baton on a life of service to peers, friends, colleagues, family and country.

In the last agonizing and painful moments on that highway to Norfolk just before he died, we can imagine Njawe asking God for one opportunity to do one thing: write one last article. The scene of his accident should carry a memorial plaque that reads: “Here, once lay the remains of a man who endured everything: Soviet-like newspaper censorship; the barbarism of one-party dictatorship and oppression; the mockery of some colleagues who felt you needed university-issued diplomas not self-education in journalism”. Hard work, focus, and iron discipline made Njawe successful, and developed his insatiable appetite for improving Cameroon’s ghettoized journalism.

Njawe endured and survived a lot more: numerous arrests; solitary confinement; jail; the savage beating of his pregnant wife and the loss of their unborn baby. He suffered the scorn of those in power who claimed they can democratize Cameroon without democrats; who rigged elections for breakfast; and mocked those like him who sought change by claiming they were already the change our country seeks. Almost with the same energy with which he was celebrated, Njawe was bashed by many in opposition who promised plenty, delivered little and grew furious as his newspaper – true to its mission - decried their inconsistency; their scheming and endless sell-out deals.

With anti-democratic forces apparently scoring so many wins, the question to ask is: did Njawe’s life make a difference? My answer to that is “hell, yes!” Njawe and Le Messsager did not stop Ahidjo’s and Biya’s misrule of Cameroon, but they called it out for history. Thanks in large part to his work, the sins of corruption, anti-democratic practices, violations of human rights, civil liberties and freedoms committed by those regimes are well documented. As numerous editorials and obituary columns in newspapers as renowned as the Washington Post and the New York Times have made clear since his passing, Njawe was an eminent and fearless journalist of world class status. I am thankful that freedom, as we will ultimately know it in Cameroon, will be a product of Njawe’s tireless energy, obsession with democracy, justice and human rights.

Njawe and I were not only “grand frère, petit frère”; not only “beau frère -beau frère”, but also friends. After quitting state-owned radio and television, I did a short stint at the rival newspaper to Njawe’s… at La Nouvelle Expression, and had a chance, from a front row seat, to witness the healthy competition that exists between the Douala newspapers. As reporters, we jokingly demonized each other. We teased Njawe’s newspaper with a play on its name, calling it “Le Mensonger” (literally the bearer of lies). They pulled our leg about our working for “La Nouvelle Repression” (the new repression). Together, we made fun of CRTV, citing Charly Ndi Chia’s grandiose intro of anchorman Eric Chinje as, in fact being “… and now ‘lies’ from CRTV…” Deep down in our heart of hearts, though, all of us – public and private media journalists - we knew the business of seeking out and telling the truth united us. When Dikalo newspaper was born out of one of the ugliest breakaways from Le Messager, the founders of the new newspaper left half of their hearts and souls at Le Messager.

Njawe took his trail-blazing championing of journalism to another level when he launched the English language version of Le Messager. Rivals soon followed his lead. There was no stopping Njawe. The creativity of Le Messager Popoli not only brought us news with a healthy dose of humor and satire. It has coined words meriting a place in any revised French dictionary. Imagine French without the word “nyagalement” (meaning with style, and coined from the pidgin word ‘nyanga’ and the French adjective forming suffix). Take the expression “ecraser le pistache” (the masked wording for love making) which the paper found to protect the innocence of its youthful readership. The outstanding brilliance of Njawe’s work and the success of his newspaper made it easy to speak up on his behalf within the Union of Cameroon Journalists. Even haughty, diploma-holding colleagues admitted Njawe was one of Cameroon’s finest journalists. His likes are, alas, few.

As much as he loved the trade, journalism was only Njawe’s part time job. It gave him the funding, platform, and channel from which to do his full time job: clamor for democracy, equal opportunity, liberties, human rights, justice, and freedom. As journalists who stood shoulder to shoulder in the trenches fighting for those ideals, I must admit few of us ever matched his bravery and sense of sacrifice. Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments, coming as close to an Obama moment for Cameroon, was when several journalists, Njawe along with them, showed Ni John Fru Ndi to the people of Cameroon from outside the Bepanda Omnisport Stadium, as the man of change. The truth, though, is that change turned out to be a mirage and some of us moved on to other jobs… you would say, to greener pasture. Njawe stayed put, tending to the unfinished business of unseating dictatorship, waiting to enthrone democracy and fighting relentlessly to bring about a free and fair Cameroon.

Thanks to his persistence, few of Cameroon’s high and powerful have not felt the anger and justice-seeking pen of Njawe, clawing away at their conscience, reminding them of broken promises; of stolen elections; of swindled wealth; of the misrule of our country; and of a Cameroonian people “trampled to death at bullet point”. All the way to death, he stood in sharp contrast to his so-called co-fighters for democracy, who have become indifferent to human rights; who have turned megalomaniacs, with all power revolving around them. That leaves journalists, like Njawe, as the only real opposition to a relentless consolidation of economic and political power by a selfish elite in Cameroon.

Lies and a total rejection of democracy are the only clothes a “naked” regime in Yaounde is now clad in and uses to fight against collapse. Njawe was seen as a threat to the state when he stood trial alongside Celestin Monga, for criminal libel. I remember the judge in that case being so horrified by the details the BBC was providing on the proceedings that the judge singled out and pointedly threatened the BBC correspondent with contempt of court. Njawe and Monga have remained unimpressed by the intimidation. Threats did not change my reporting on the BBC. Throwing Njawe into jail, as the regime did on a number of occasions, only helped to create a spicy, gossipy column out of New Bell Prison, adding to what may be Cameroon’s best-written column, pen-named Daniel Rim.

Le Messager has also survived persecution by its first printers, the state-owned SOPECAM. It survived the “financial starvation” imposed by lack of access to advertisements from state-owned corporations, and even private companies, too afraid to be perceived as doing business with a person and newspaper seen as a symbol of opposition. Le Messager has outlived makeshift printing arrangements at an outfit ran by fellow journalist, Benjamin Zebaze, in Bonaberi and expeditions to Nigeria to print and smuggle in the newspaper.

Njawe can pound his chest and accept victory for surviving censorship; for overcoming the chains of detention cells; for surviving the wet floors, giant mosquitoes, and monster rats of New Bell Prison. After years of trying, and failing, in every way possible to break him, Njawe stood alone on that highway to Norfolk, looking into his destiny. He stood solid against the fierce fatal force of a truck on an American highway… killed but not death; gone from and missing to us, but with us forever… his body crushed, but his spirit alive… crying out in every one of us to follow his example.

How fitting that Njawe came to the Washington, DC, Metro Area - the city with the most journalists per square kilometer - to die! How fitting that he came to the land of freedom to be freed from the shackles of sin and flesh, but how sad that God’s time means we must suffer such loss even if it also reminds us that some, like Njawe, will never ever die.

Njawe is death. Long live Njawe!

Basil Davidson, path-breaking historian of Africa, dies at 95

by Dennis Laumann

Basil Davidson, the radical journalist whose books introduced a mass audience to Africa's history, died on July 9 at the age of 95.

Davidson was a participant in, witness to, and chronicler of people's struggles against imperialism, fascism, and racism. He battled alongside partisans in Europe during World War II, traveled with guerrillas fighting for independence in Portuguese colonies, and campaigned against apartheid in South Africa. Davidson was a true scholar-activist who was as determined in the combat zone as he was behind a desk.

Born in Bristol, England, Davidson left school at 16 to pursue a career in journalism. He worked as a foreign correspondent for notable London publications such as the Economist, before joining Britain's anti-Nazi Special Operations Executive in the late 1930s. Multilingual, imposing, and daring, Davidson coordinated resistance activities in several countries. He parachuted into Yugoslavia, where he joined Tito's Communists in 1943-44, then led a band of partisans who liberated Genoa in neighboring Italy.

After the war, he returned to reporting, based in Paris and writing for leading British newspapers, and he was active in labor causes. In the 1950s he traveled to Africa, the continent to which he devoted his research skills, literary talents, and political militancy for the remainder of his life.

Inspired by the anti-colonial movement sweeping Africa and committed to the Pan-Africanist program of Africa's new leaders, Davidson immersed himself in writing about Africa's present and past. His early, now classic, studies of Africa were published at a time when much of the continent was under colonial occupation, Jim Crow racism prevailed in the American South, and most Western intellectuals dismissed African history as nonexistent.

Davidson highlighted the magnificence of Africa's distant past, from the ancient city of Meroe to the powerful empire of Mali, in award-winning books such as Lost Cities of Africa (1959). In his effort to counter Western ignorance and stereotypes about Africa, Davidson emphasized its role in world history, educating readers about the invention of iron-working in sub-Saharan Africa, for example. An Afrocentrist, he rejected colonialist scholarship which separated ancient Egypt from the rest of the continent, showing that Egypt was an African civilization. His books also explored the negative consequences of Africa's more recent engagement with Europe, most notably in The African Slave Trade (1961), one of the first comprehensive studies of the subject.

Davidson covered current events in Africa, too, especially the fight for self-determination. His articles and books written on the front lines of the anti-colonial struggle in Africa helped raise awareness around the world. He shaped British public opinion in favor of decolonization and his publications were devoured by civil rights activists and proponents of ethnic studies in the U.S.

His first African monograph, A Report on Southern Africa (1952), was an eyewitness account of the implementation of the newly enacted policies of racial segregation known as apartheid. His 1951 trip was arranged by the Garment Workers' Union of South Africa and during his visit he met with Nelson Mandela, Oliver Tambo, and other leaders of the African National Congress. Later he was deemed a "prohibited immigrant" by the apartheid government and denied entry to South Africa and other white-ruled colonies. Unbowed, he continued to speak out about the crimes of apartheid and he served as vice-president of the Anti-Apartheid Movement in Britain from 1969 to1984.

Davidson celebrated the independence of Ghana in 1957 and the policies of its president, Kwame Nkrumah, who welcomed liberation fighters from throughout Africa to study and train in his country. In 1964, Davidson taught at the University of Ghana and later he published a biography of the Ghanaian leader entitled Black Star: A View of the Life and Times of Kwame Nkrumah (1973).

Davidson was the first Western journalist to travel to the liberated zones of the Portuguese colonies of Guinea-Bissau and Angola. Amilcar Cabral, the leader of the African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde who in 1967 invited him to the freed areas of Guinea-Bissau, wrote that Davidson "accepted every risk and fatigue that could bring him into personal touch with the way our people live now." Davidson later recounted his trip in the book No Fist is Big Enough to Hide the Sky (1981).

At the height of the armed struggle, Davidson walked 300 miles on foot to eastern Angola to visit the zone liberated by the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola. His account of this epic journey, called In the Eye of the Storm: Angola's People, was published in 1972.

In more recent years, Davidson explored the problems of postcolonial Africa which he principally attributed to the imposition of Western institutions such as multiparty liberal democracy. His most important work on this topic was titled The Black Man's Burden: Africa and the Curse of the Nation-State (1993), in which he argued the solutions to Africa's troubles must come from Africans themselves rooted in a keen sense of their own history and cultures.

Although Davidson was never a member of any communist party, he often was labeled a "communist" and at times he was blacklisted like many leftists during the Cold War era. A decorated military veteran, his own country nevertheless vetoed his appointment as an editor at UNESCO, as punishment for his radical politics. 

But, Davidson remained true to his principles. He once described his work as "obviously anti-imperialist." He championed Marxist organizations and leaders - including Nkrumah and Cabral - who fought against colonialism and apartheid. And he condemned the hypocrisy of Western liberals who turned a blind eye to the crimes of imperialism.

Davidson is remembered for the sacrifices he made and the role he played in liberating Africa. The MPLA, which now governs an independent Angola, issued a statement this week mourning his death. "At this moment of grief and sorrow," it reads, "the Politburo, on behalf of all party members, bends before the memory of so eminent personality and forwards to the bereaved family and the Mozambique-Angola Committee, of which he was a member, the deepest condolences."

At the presentation of an honorary degree from the University of Bristol in 1999, Davidson was recognized as "one of the great radical figures of the 20th century." The presentation continued, "He has pursued, throughout his life, a just cause, without fear for his own personal safety. He has provided an inspiration for millions, through his books and television work, and by his academic writings gave us African history, when many denied there could be any African history."

Davidson's impact is evident in the high school and university classrooms across Africa and beyond where his textbooks, such as West Africa before the Colonial Era: A History to 1850 (1998), as well as his acclaimed eight-part documentary series, Africa: A Voyage of Discovery (1984), are required learning materials.

Enter any bookstore or library with a section devoted to Africa, and you certainly will find several of Davidson's works on display. Pay homage to this great scholar-activist by reading one of those books, and follow his example by committing yourself to the struggle against imperialism in its many forms today.

*Bois-Caiman-Redaktion

 27.07.2010

As a tribute to his legacy we thought we would share some of his thoughts from an essay he wrote for the World Association of Newspape

I have been a journalist since the age of 15. I started as an errand boy at a newspaper called Semences africaines, in the city of Yaoundé, Cameroon. Over the past 34 years, I have been arrested 126 times while carrying out my profession as a journalist. Physical and mental torture, death threats, the ransacking of my newsroom etc, has often been my daily lot in a situation where repression and corruption, even within the press, have become the norm. Woe betide the slightest dissenting voice in this context, for it attracts all kinds of wrath, even from so-called colleagues.

longest detention lasted 10 months. I was arrested on December 24th, 1997, for daring to wonder about the president’s health after he had experienced heart problems while watching the Cameroonian football cup final. On January 13th, 1998, I was sentenced to 24 months in prison. Four months later, the sentence was reduced to 12 months under pressure from national and international public opinion. But that was not enough to remove the pressure, and after 10 months, the president resigned himself to pardoning me, a pardon I had never asked for.

 While my many detentions have largely contributed to confirming my convictions about certain democratic and human values, my long stay in prison above all stimulated my sense of solidarity with others, particularly the poor and the outcast. It strengthened my determination to use journalism as a weapon against all kinds of abuse. For there is no better weapon than words for restoring peace and justice among people, although it depends how those words are used.  

To have the privilege of writing taken away from you overnight feels like being a victim of a crime. The prison governor called me into his office one day to warn me that as a prisoner I did not have the right to write, and that my persistence would land me in solitary confinement. I immediately started to think about what my long days would be like in a cell I was sharing with more than 150 detainees, almost all of them crooks, if I could not write. So I decided to defy the governor’s ban by stepping up my bi-weekly column, Le Bloc-notes du bagnard (The Convict’s Notebook), in my newspaper Le Messager.

 I entered journalism the way you enter a religion; journalism is my religion. I believe in it, and a thousand trials, a thousand arrests, a thousand imprisonments and as many death threats will never make me change job. On the contrary, the harder it is, the more you have to believe in it and cling to it. Respecting ethical standards is of fundamental importance for anyone wishing to be a journalist. It protects you against all kinds of people who would like to teach you a lesson. When you are facing a judge who is being manipulated, it is your irreproachable professional defence that makes that judge examine his or her own conscience. It is what wins your colleagues over to your cause when you are in difficulty. Doing your job properly therefore seems to be the best advice anyone can give a journalist operating in a context of constant harassment.  

And doing your job properly also, and above all, means avoiding “gumbo journalism”, a practice becoming increasingly widespread in our profession, where people write what they are paid to write instead of giving real information and the truth. While journalists have the right to earn a decent living, even in emerging nations, honest journalists never need pockets in their shrouds.

 Journalists perform a social function, which gives them not immunity, but the right to look critically at the way a nation is being run. While playing this crucial role, it is important for them to be protected by the law, but also by the whole of society for which they work. Mobilisation is therefore essential every time a journalist is thrown into prison, or threatened with arrest or death. Because every time a journalist is silenced, society loses one of its watchdogs.

Reprinted with permission from the World Association of Newspapers.

Source: publicintegrity

Wien, 17. Juli 2010 - In dem Bericht zur Lage Schwarzer Menschen in Österreich wiesen die AutorInnen schon im Juni auf die Existenz des Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus in Europa und in Österreich hin. Dass Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus eine Realität ist bestätigt nun auch die Europäische Kommission gegen Rassismus und Intoleranz (ECRI) in ihrem aktuellen Jahresbericht.

Die VerfasserInnen des ECRI-Berichts geben an, dass Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus besonders durch die Wirtschaftskrise zugenommen hat und immer extremere Formen annimmt. Das beinhalte etwa organisierte Attacken gegen Schwarze Menschen, sowie Beleidigungen während sportlicher Veranstaltungen. 

Diesjähriger Schwerpunkt des Berichts zur Lage Schwarzer Menschen in Österreich war der Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus. Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus zeigt sich sowohl auf struktureller Ebene als auch im täglichen Leben Schwarzer Österreicher. Schwarze Menschen sehen sich in allen Lebenslagen mit Anti-Schwarze-Rassismus konfrontiert. Diese spezielle Form von Rassismus richtet sich gegen die Betroffenen, allein aufgrund des physischen Merkmals – der schwarzen Hautfarbe.

Der Bericht zur Lage Schwarzer Menschen in Österreich wurde im Juni 2010 herausgegeben. Er wird zukünftig jedes Jahr erscheinen. Herausgeber sind simon INOU (Afrikanet.info) und Beatrice Achaleke (AFRA). Der Bericht erschien im Black European Publishers Verlag c/o AFRA, Pelzgasse 7,1150 Wien und ist um 8 Euro zzgl. Versandkosten erhältlich.

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Bericht zur Situation Schwarzer Menschen in Österreich (Deutsch)

Black People in Austria - Annual Report 2009 (English)

Einer Familienüberlieferung zufolge, gab es eine Person, die ihr Großes prophezeite. Bei ihrer Geburt 1938, besuchte ein weiser, alter Mann die Familie und prophezeite der kleinen Ellen, dass sie einmal ganz nach oben kommen werde. Immer dann, wenn Ellen Johnson Sirleafs Leben aus den Fugen geriet, wurde diese Geschichte mit Gelächter in der Familie erzählt. 

Kurz nach ihrem High-School-Abschluss heiratete sie und bekam innerhalb weniger Jahre vier Kinder. In dieser Zeit traf sie eine Entscheidung, die eigentlich nur die Familienfinanzen aufbessern sollten. Sie nahm eine Stelle als Buchhalterin an und entdeckte ihre besondere Begabung im Umgang mit Zahlen. „Es sind oft die kleinen Entscheidungen, die ein Leben verändern.“ Ihre Studien der Wirtschaftswissenschaften in den USA sind auf diese kleine Entscheidung zurückzuführen, die Ellen Johnson Sirleafs Leidenschaft wurde, und sie unter anderem an die Spitze des Finanzministeriums Liberias führte. 

Die erste Präsidentin Afrikas hat ihre Karriere nicht unbedingt so geplant, wie es in den zahlreichen Karrierenachschlagwerken steht. Sie hat ihre Chancen und ihr Potential optimal genutzt, auch wenn sie dafür schwerwiegende Entscheidungen treffen musste. Während ihrer Studienjahre in den USA bleiben ihre vier Kinder in der Obhut der Familie in Liberia. Die schonungslose Offenheit der Beschreibung dieser Trennung von ihren Kindern  lassen die LeserInnen tief in die Persönlichkeit dieser außergewöhnlichen Frau blicken. 

Zielstrebigkeit, Unerschrockenheit, ein hohes Maß an sozialer Intelligenz und der Mut immer wieder von neuem zu beginnen, sind die Ingredienzien des Lebensweges der Präsidentin von Liberia. Wie eng sie sich mit dieser Nation verbunden fühlt, wird in ihren im Buch zitierten Reden sichtbar. Ihre politischen Visionen sind geprägt vom Kampf gegen Armut und soziale Ungerechtigkeiten.  

 „Die komplexe Dynamik des politischen Systems in Liberia“ holte sie mehrmals ein. Während ihrer Jahre im Exil, ihren Tätigkeiten bei der Citibank, der Equator Bank und den Vereinten Nationen hielt sie den Blick auf ein von Bürgerkriegen und Leid geprägtes Liberia gerichtet. 

Sie nutzte die erste Gelegenheit, um in ihre Heimat zurückzukehren, um schließlich 2005 für das Amt der Präsidentin zu kandidieren. In der Bevölkerung war das Wahlplakat, auf dem Ellen Johnson Sirleaf  mit einer zur Faust erhobenen Hand zu sehen war, am beliebtesten. 1986 wurde sie unter der Regierung Doe verhaftet und hielt bei ihrer Entlassung aus dem Gefängnis eine Rede, bei der sie in dieser Pose fotografiert wurde. 

Heute finden sich keine Schreckensmeldungen über Liberia in den Medien, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf arbeitet an ihrem Projekt. Sie ist international gut vernetzt und ihre Verbündeten sind Frauen. Munah Sieh, die erste Polizeichefin des Kontinents, Julia Duncan-Cassell, die Gouverneurin von Grand Bassa oder Mary Broh, die Bürgermeisterin von Monrovia. Nicht zu vergessen die vielen Frauen, die „Ma Ellen“ gewählt haben und ihre Hoffnung auf sie setzen. 

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Ellen Johnson Sirleaf: Mein Leben für Liberia. Die erste Präsidentin Afrikas erzählt.

S. Fischer Verlage, Krüger 2009, ISBN 978-3-8105-1940-5