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Students boots a museum' workforce

AFRICAN MUSEUMS ON A MEET-THE-PEOPLE MISSION

Cynthia Guttman, UNESCO Courier journalist.
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A mobile museum visits a Botswana school.











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The royal palace museum at Porto Novo (Benin).

Plagued by low visitor attendance, African museums are breaking out of their rigid colonial moulds and courting local communities

Since he started teaching aspiring curators in the early 1980s, Emmanuel Nnakenyi Arinze has advocated a hands-on approach that even comes with a dress code. “I tell my students that ‘the African curator does not come to work in a tie because you are going to be working with your hands, on objects that are dirty, in storage, in galleries or outside, or with children who will pour ink over you.’ ”
It’s a small detail that nonetheless points towards deeper currents of change running through African museums as curators and their colleagues seek to define a model that makes sense for Africans today. The process, initiated in piecemeal fashion in the 1980s, received a galvanizing thrust forward after Mali’s Alpha Oumar Konaré, the first African to preside the International Council of Museums, sounded the alarm by declaring in 1991 that “it is time, high time . . . to kill the Western model of museum in Africa.”
A crisis had been brewing for years. Besides acute cutbacks in financing and training, excessive bureaucracy and political interference in museum leadership, the most glaring sign of trouble was simply that African people, just about everywhere, were shunning their museums. In many cases, they were discarded as “places for tourists or museums for whites” as Alexis Adandé, director of the West African Museums Programme puts it.
All museums, even those founded after independence, were forced to address the crisis. Across the continent, directors have started to shake up their institutions, develop more outward-looking attitudes and tune into the lives and concerns of local people. This starts with a novel approach to exhibitions that involves consulting communities from the outset–not only to spark their interest, but also because they own objects deemed of higher symbolic value in their eyes than those gathering dust in museum showcases.
In Bulawayo (Zimbabwe), the local community was asked to bring in old photographs for display in the local art gallery. “The exhibition proved very popular as it rekindled past memories of people’s lifestyles,” recalls Francis Musonda, chairman of SADCAMM, an association which groups museums from the southern Africa region.
In an experimental-style exhibition in Ouidah (Benin) in 1985, families were encouraged to display objects relating to local festivals and family heritage. The exhibit, staged with artifacts ranging from portraits and masks to statuettes representing female divinities–which until then had been passed down within the same families for several generations–was warmly greeted by the population who for the most part were viewing these precious pieces for the first time. It created such interest that a small family museum was eventually opened in the city.

Appealing to an elite
In Nigeria, Arinze, who has held a number of prominent positions in the field of museum development, organized a crowd-drawing exhibition on drums, during which musicians from selected villages were invited to a city museum to share their know-how and traditions with visitors. “People in our communities must be part of the process of exhibiting objects that come from them. We should give them a chance to talk to us about those objects and how they want to see them shown to a wider audience,” he says. “When an object is put here in isolation from its true meaning, communities feel distanced from it and slightly offended.”
All these types of initiatives enhance communities’ pride in their heritage and stimulate awareness about the value of safeguarding objects, while often shedding new light on local history. They break the Western stereotype of a museum as a place where people come to look at objects on display. With some rare exceptions–such as Niamey’s “arts and crafts” style concept with architectural models linked to the country’s ethnic groups, parks explaining the country’s fauna and flora, and pavilions presenting different dress styles and customs–African museums were created to satisfy the curiosity of an elite, almost to the total exclusion of the locals. Despite post-independence efforts to make them vehicles for encouraging nationalism and fostering unity, the fact remains that collections were constituted by foreign powers, and mostly for their interest alone.
“The great problem for ethnographic-style museums is to think about new ways of using objects which for the most part have ‘died’,” explains Adandé, referring to the intricate ‘living’ relationship between an object, such as a mask, and the role it plays in a given cultural context. In the case of the palace-museum in Abomey (Benin), artifacts belonging to rulers of the former 17th-century kingdom are brought out during ritual ceremonies linked to the cult of ancestors. These objects are “charged” to regain their sacred power, and at the end of the ceremony rendered inanimate, since a fully charged object cannot be left on show for viewing by the average visitor. But this type of initiative is not feasible when objects have been collected in one part of the country for display in another.
But museum directors are still faced with the question of bringing meaning back into collections constituted during colonial times.“Should these objects be returned to populations to create local museums or be used for educational purposes, especially for youth from cities?” asks Adandé.
Shaje’a Tshiluila, president of AFRICOM, a pan-African organization of museums, insists that the continent’s museums have a critical role to play in valorizing traditional knowledge that can serve Africa’s development. “If the definition of a museum is to collect, preserve and transmit, this can be applied to a very broad range of concerns, from learning about different styles of conflict resolution to identifying the health practices of different ethnic groups,” she affirms.

Reaching a youthful audience
Pointing to conflicts that have torn so many African countries apart in the past decade, Tshiluila insists on the potential of museums to bring about greater understanding between ethnic groups. In this regard, Tanzania’s Village Museum has drawn attention well beyond its borders. In 1994, the museum launched an annual event during which one or two ethnic groups (out of about 140) show their culture to others. They build or rehabilitate traditional houses, explain to visitors the purpose of various cultural artifacts used, organize seminars about their history and culture, and share food and music. Because they are involved in the event from its inception, communities are given the chance to reflect upon what they value most about their heritage, and to find the most stimulating ways of presenting it to others.
The idea of getting messages across can extend to a broad range of concerns, from health or agriculture techniques to urbanization. In Swaziland for example, curator Rosemary Andrade has opened up the doors of the national museum to exhibitions on HIV-Aids prevention, in partnership with local NGOs. On another occasion, noticing the talents of Mozambican refugees at recycling materials, she staged an exhibition showcasing their skills, to promote greater tolerance between these recent arrivals and the locals.
It could be argued that every exhibition is an educational endeavour, but if there is one audience that museums feel they have to reach, it is children and youth. “Museums and heritage sites provide an education resource that has been devastatingly underutilized by teachers, education departments, universities, NGOs and museums themselves,” says Dammon Rice, head of the Museum Ambassador Programme in South Africa. This initiative trains young people to teach their peers about museums in the Cape Town area by giving presentations in schools and running museum tours.
A number of other museums now organize workshops for teachers, who are encouraged to link issues in the curriculum with collections in the museum. In Benin, the national heritage school runs training aimed at increasing the ability of museum educators across the continent to design programmes for schools and local communities.
The Botswana national museum, although created after independence, was among the first to realize that its prime role was educational. “Even though we started from scratch when we built our own museum, we realized that we could be doing much more to let people know that we existed. And we wanted to catch people at an early age, in primary school,” explains the museum’s director Tickey Pule.
In one of the longest running outreach programmes in Africa, known as the Zebra on Wheels, staff from the national museum set out once a term with a van filled with artifacts to organize daylong exhibits in rural schools, along with talks and slideshows and movies on the country’s environment and cultural heritage. Besides bringing the museum to the village, the programme exposes children to crafts and customs from different parts of Botswana, fostering a sense of national pride.
Encouraging children to take pride in their heritage is an investment that curators know has long-term payoffs. In Zimbabwe, a programme involving school students aims to limit vandalism around archaeological sites. In Tsodiolo, Botswana, on a site where there are over 1,000 rock paintings locals are involved in the opening of a museum and are being trained as guides. They are also sharing with museum professionals their knowledge of this ancient site, which is up for world heritage status nomination.

A museum without walls
This process however, has to be nurtured, especially when it comes to turning sites into cultural attractions. “It takes a lot of time to strike up a dialogue with communities, especially rural ones. In fact, it’s always what people don’t say that is important,” says Malagasy museum director and archaeologist Jean-Aimé Rakotoarisoa. For the past several years, he has been working with villagers on a 14th-century fortified site that is still considered sacred. His aim: to create a “museum without walls or collections”–an itinerary around the site, the village, the surrounding rice fields and an adjacent “sacred” forest harbouring rare plant species that have remained untouched for centuries. He would like to see children from the city visit the site as part of their school programme, be guided through it by the villagers and encourage the revival of lost craft techniques.
Given the number of venerated cultural and historical sites around the island–and throughout Africa–there is potential for this kind of approach to flourish, provided communities feel they have a hold on the process.“All too often this type of operation dies off within six months because an outsider turns up with the money, and when it runs out, the project dies.” Rakotoarisoa cautions against making calculations based largely on the economic viability of such projects, expressing reticence over some of the World Bank’s cost-benefit approaches to exploiting cultural heritage. The risk, he warns, is that culture will only be on show for outsiders–just as it was when African museums started out.