Guest Post by Oluwaseun Babalola
Creative content, like film or television, is integral to identity and cultural preservation. Have you ever heard of “Cool Japan”? It’s a reference to Japan’s quest to become a cultural icon. The idea was to export their pop culture to other parts of the world in hopes of rebuilding their reputation and boosting their economy after World War II. Now we have anime and J-pop. Thank you, Japan.
Content can also serve as a time capsule: In Hollywood, the 1940s saw an increase in war movies post-WWII, while the ’70s had a slew of films experimenting with sex and violence, due in part to the activity surrounding the Vietnam War.
Whatever you’re watching, the storytelling you’re consuming helps you make sense of a culture and an era.
I’m a filmmaker, born and raised in Brooklyn, New York to a Sierra Leonean mother and a Nigerian father. Looking back at old music videos, a rerun of a ’90s TV show, or a favorite film from an awkward phase, I’m transported to a certain space. This space informs me of who I was, what drew me to the content, and how it led to defined life choices — like trying to rock an Aaliyah “swoop” bang or my emo stage, spurring multiple viewings of “Garden State”. These favorites helped me gain insight into my own experiences. No matter the genre, they all served their purpose. Unfortunately, there was a gap in my content consumption: authentic African stories.
When I say authentic, I mean from an African perspective. To be honest, that’s my only qualification. Growing up, you could bet that any content stemming from Africa was focused on a white savior or an animal — or both. What purpose did Djimon Hounsou really serve in “Blood Diamond,” other than to be saved by Leonardo DiCaprio? The film could have focused on Hounsou’s journey as a Sierra Leonean man in the midst of a civil war, but instead, he was a plot device. In “Out of Africa,” we were all too distracted by a great performance from Meryl Streep to notice that Africans were just background noise. Background noise — in a film with “Africa” in the title.
At the time, I brushed it off as normal, but as I got older I realized how much film and television is lacking when it comes to the African point of view. I had few experiences with movies or TV that could validate or contextualize the experiences I had as a young woman raised in an African immigrant family. I wanted to see reenactments of my parents’ stories of home, to see the cities they spoke of so often, or even stories from my diaspora experience. I felt like my life experiences were relatable — the first day of school when no one could pronounce my name correctly, the quizzical looks I received when bringing traditional food for lunch, the task of explaining to high school friends that I’m wasn’t allowed out of the house to hang out because I needed to be back by 4 pm — but I didn’t see characters with lives like mine on-screen.
These days, the content creation playing-field is leveling. Storytelling is becoming more accessible on a technical level, equipment and training made easy with a smart phone and the internet. However, if we want to talk about reach and what gets the spotlight, there are only a few identities that get to be preserved in the mainstream, and those identities are usually white. I created “ṢOJU” in an attempt to do my part in filling that gap.
“ṢOJU” is a project very dear to me. When I sum up “ṢOJU,” I say it’s a documentary series that showcases diverse youth culture in Africa. That’s true, but the goals for it are so much more. I’ve traveled in between the U.S. and eight African countries with camera gear on my back, shooting stories in support of African women, African youth, and African identity. It’s building awareness for initiatives on the ground, such as Codetrain, a Ghana-based coding school, or MamaRocks, a food truck in Kenya preserving Swahili cuisine and celebrating African gastronomy.
“ṢOJU” is a time capsule for this period in black thought — it’s documentation for analysis in the future. When I think of what I want people to see when they look back at the project, it mirrors the things that drive me: our confidence, our stories, our culture, our people. I’ve featured death metal enthusiasts who hold an annual metal festival in Botswana where proceeds go to local youth, surfers in Sierra Leone who strive to turn their fishing village into a surf town that goes to the Olympics, and a gay human rights activist fighting for equality in Nigeria, where homosexuality is illegal. These are all young people looking to build community in order to push their country forward.
When first starting “ṢOJU,” the journey to cultural preservation and alternative representation for Africa was tiresome, time-consuming, and costly. It led me to create in a silo, or often, not create at all. I realized that I couldn’t do it alone. You can’t have culture without a community, and you can’t build community within a vacuum. Thankfully, that vacuum doesn’t need to exist, and so my quest to “do my part” has been coupled with a sense of urgency.
I urge African filmmakers — women especially — to dive in, fearlessly. Collaborate with one another. If you can start it, you can finish it. Two years after “ṢOJU’s” initial launch, after traveling to Nigeria, Kenya, Ghana, Botswana, Namibia, Sierra Leone, Ivory Coast, and Morocco, I’m ecstatic about the response. Many young people told me that it inspired them to do their own documentaries about social causes they hold dear. It’s thrilling to keep this project growing, and it needs to grow with all of us.
I get excited seeing Michaela Coel’s “Chewing Gum,” Lupita Nyong’o and Danai Gurira teaming up for Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s “Americanah,” and Yvonne Orji and Issa Rae on “Insecure.” I know there’s more where that came from and they show that the landscape is shifting. The arrival of modern day African storytelling is now, and I assure you that there’s space for you to make a mark and preserve your piece of culture and history.
Oluwaseun Babalola is a filmmaker and entrepreneur. She has produced projects with her production company, DO Global Productions, across the U.S as well as the Caribbean, Africa, and Europe. Her directorial debut, “ṢOJU,” is a documentary series showcasing the diversity in youth culture and entrepreneurship across Africa. It won “Best Documentary” at Black Cinema Chicago’s Afrofuturism Festival, Best Achievement in Short Documentary at Silicon Valley African Film Festival, and has screened globally. Oluwaseun is also partner of BIAYA Consulting, a consulting firm serving Pan-African creatives and cultural industries.
You can check out “ṢOJU” at www.sojuafrica.com or on YouTube.
