Whenever I visit my family in Dakar I find myself in a discussion with my cousin about why studying abroad might not be the solution for all of his problems. Despite my very clear explanations that Europe really isn’t what it advertises to be, he is convinced that studying abroad will be the best for him. It gives me a glimpse at how many young men who are less privileged than my cousin end up actually forcing this dream, by embarking on one of the most lethal journeys towards the north.
The Film
When Niwel played the song, it evoked a profound sense of ancientness. There was something immensely old yet so vibrantly alive that it was capable of echoing through Niwel's guitar strings. At that point, I didn't even know that "Molimo" translates to "soul" or "spirit" (with "Milimo" being the plural). I was beyond grateful and excited when he asked me to create a video for it, and I immediately began scribbling out some ideas. I found myself sketching an old woman symbolizing the ocean that swallows the protagonist. When I showed this to Niwel, I was taken aback to learn that he first performed this song for his grandmother on a traditional gourd string.
From that point, I knew the story was ready to be told. Yemoja - the old woman in blue - might be a very known name to some, and new to others. In the western parts of the Diaspora, however, she not only represents the Ogun River but is probably one of the oldest known representations of water. In Brazil, she later became synonymous with the Ocean, because much of the Yoruba culture was brought over during the large-scale trade of enslaved west-Africans.
I found this to be a shockingly strong parallel to the young West Africans leaving in large quantities - again, on ships! - only to become the West's new labor force. From the discussions with my younger family members in Senegal, I can clearly say that the reasons for leaving Africa are as diverse as there are people on this planet. But sadly, the deadly journey doesn’t care about your background story. The ocean, the elements, and the larger life forces treat everyone equally, for which I referenced one of the most famous African stories which was birthed out of the predynastic Khemetic lore: The story of Maat and the law of balance. One of the oldest stories about action and consequence. Karma, if you will.
The extreme, caricature-like levels of exploitation in Africa are definitely one of the reasons people leave. More often than not, I see young Africans unconsciously facilitating these trends by wearing fabrics and symbols that are made by the very same entities that perpetuate crimes against the nature of our existence.
The music video basically revolves around a garment and the power of a traditional garment is not only the passing on of a tradition, but it is also an economic statement. I’m no fan of doing things “just because the old people say it”. Some say: “Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people.” And It deeply resonates with me, as it implies that there is also the chance of Peer support from them.
The technology of choice to re-establish a healthier relationship with passed ones would be what modern humans call “prayer”. It uses gadgets like an “altar”. Depicted in the video by the protagonist Sister. Convinced that her brother passed away, she is using the garment of her brother to communicate with him. Little does she know that her efforts are successful, infusing him with memories of the motherland's simple beauty, which somehow makes the video a bit of a cautionary tale.
Thank you Niwel!
Enjoying fatherhood, storytelling, worldbuilding, learning from mother earth. I like perfectly ripe blackberries and good brushes. Co-founder of @konduktum. Working for systemic change in the creator economy!