'Welcome to Lagos' and other adventures

Wole Soyinka’s ‘attack’ on the BBC in response to the portrayal of Lagos in the three-part television documentary Welcome to Lagos has been widely reported. Since then commentaries have been circulated on ‘Nollywood’ and ‘Animated/Artistic Tanzanian Love Story – Is this A Reflection of Reality?’ about an animation by a European filmmaker.[1] I do not know if the animation was screened in Tanzania, or even Africa for that matter, but on the Internet it was posted one year ago.

All of this for me is very interesting, with equal portions of frustration, and indeed déjà vu. Not long ago the Tanzania Bunge stopped its usual business to discuss Darwin’s Nightmare – a film released some three years earlier and which virtually no one in Tanzania had seen, but which the Bunge was asked to ban, and even arrest the director. In all of this I find some reconciliation in the words of the late Tajudeen Abdul-Raheem, ‘Don’t agonise! Organise!’

So my first comment on the Soyinka ‘attack’ is coated with a sense of irony. My immediate question is: What does Soyinka or any African expect of the BBC? Are we not aware that the BBC, like Al Jazeera, Sky, CNN et al, are doing what they are set up to do? That is to make programmes for their audiences; programmes that they can sell within the global television market. Ultimately, they make programmes that conform to and reflect their preferred editorial position. That is not always bad or derogatory, sometimes it is simply informative. Here however, two issues come into being. One is about perspective and the other is about ownership. Interestingly, Soyinka’s response addresses the former and ignores the later.

The three films in the Welcome to Lagos series looked at the lives of marginalised slum-dwellers (the contemporary, urban ‘swamp-dwellers’) and informal entrepreneurs who make up a substantial part of Lagos life. The films look at the lives of specific people against the background of the initiative to transform Lagos into an efficient modern city comparable to London or New York, as was the wish expressed by one of the interviewees. This person happened to be the commander of the paramilitary force charged with moving the squatters, their illegally erected structures and the undesirables from the streets to make way for the planned urban renewal.

Nothing wrong with that, except that the methods used are the usual wreck-and-destroy tactics carried out with the usual familiar zeal. Ironically the commander is a trained dancer and choreographer who conducts classes in traditional dance in his off-time. Equally ironic are the various characters that live under the cloud of a threat that will arrive at anytime. There is the graduate in agricultural science who scavenges blood from the abattoir and processes it into fertiliser. There is the would-be hip-hop star who scavenges on the rubbish dump to get money to record his music, make a music video, and take his publicity photos. And there are others.

What is most significant is the intelligence of these people, their resilience and their irrepressible optimism. Is this what is referred to by Soyinka as ‘noble savagery’? Perhaps that could be a reading, but in my view the idea of noble savagery can only be sustained if the individuals being portrayed are seen as victims without any sense of social agency. This is not so in these films. In fact, all of the people featured are self-assured and articulate.

In Soyinka’s BBC interview about the programmes, his main contention seemed to be that the title ‘Welcome to Lagos’ gave the impression that the programmes were about Lagos as a whole. A reasonable point, but that is what a title should do. It should invite irony, interest and provocation. So what really is the contention? Should it not really be about ownership?

In the last few months the BBC has featured a significant number of programmes about Africa. This was not some benevolence, but part of the planned schedule leading up to the World Cup in South Africa. As a result, British audiences were able to view a range of programmes: ‘Lost Kingdoms of Africa’, ‘The [Desmond] Tutu Talks’, ‘Building Africa: Architecture of a Continent’, ‘Hugh Masekela: Welcome to South Africa’, ‘The History of Safari’, and ‘African Railway – TAZARA’; and there may have been others. All of these programmes would have been at least two years in the making. How many would be screened by any African broadcaster? More importantly, where in Africa are comparable programmes being made?

This of course brings us to the comments on ‘Nollywood’ and the issues of the animation programme. If Nigeria can boast making 200 films a day, and virtually none are worth seeing all the way through, what good is that to Nigeria or Africa? Well, before it is construed that I am an enemy of Nollywood, my provisional response is that Nollywood proves the need (if proof was ever needed) for African images and stories. By its own ‘success’, it also demonstrates some of the critical requirements for a viable and productive film/media industry. Piracy and low quality reinforce inferiority, and in no way offers a viable alternative to the BBC et al. Yes, Nigeria can produce Amistad, and it can be a success, but there are certain preconditions that have to be met.

In this regard, Femi Osofisan, the Nigerian writer, is implicitly appealing for a respect for excellence and professionalism, not cheap celebrity and glamour money. His is the recognition of the need for broadcasters and governments to stop pillaging creativity. Rather, to invest in and to nurture intellectual and creative resources. If this were to happen there would be no need to worry about the producer of ‘Tanzania Love Story’ turning up as ‘the manager of a grants project for theatre arts in Tanzania’.

In the end, global exchanges are a necessary part of human activity. It is the terms and conditions that matter. Hollywood owes much of its success to the work and innovation of ‘foreigners’. Bollywood owes its global influence to the Indian Diaspora. Nollywood’s persistence is in its appeal across the African continent and among Africans across the diaspora. What distinguishes Hollywood and Bollywood is their underlying professionalism and their insistence on excellence and responsive institutions. There are no miracles, just hard work and vision.

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* Imruh Bakari is a lecturer in media, film and communication at [email protected] or comment online at Pambazuka News.

NOTES

[1] wanazuoni